Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Called by Grace, Sent to Serve

 


                                       Called by Grace, Sent to Serve

Reflecting upon Pastor Joel Lissy’s ordination on July 13, I started thinking about the two tracks we took to become pastors in the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod (LCMS). To do this, I write this essay to guide you through my process of becoming a Pastor in the Synod. If I gave my reflection a title it would be: Called by Grace, Sent to Serve in three acts: Act One (Vocational Foundations), Act Two (The Turning Point), and Act Three (The Colloquy and Call).

 

Act One: Vocational Foundations

Pastor Lissy is blessed to serve two congregations at such a youthful age. He is a bright and talented man who was raised in the Lutheran Church and has a shepherd’s heart. took the more common track. After high school, he graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree, and eventually a master’s degree.[1] On the other hand, after graduating from Center Area High School in 1975, I attended Penn State for a year, then attended a technical school program where I studied HVAC, which landed me a job at Babcock and Wilcox. I worked at Babcock & Wilcox for four years while also working several second part-time jobs and taking night courses at Community College of Beaver County.

During this time, I realized that my Call was from God. In the Lutheran Church, we use the term “Divine Call.” The Call to serve God is Divine and is distinct from the Call a congregation offers a man to serve as its Pastor. Even in high school, I knew I was called to serve God, but I could not articulate it at the time.

In 1979, four years after graduating from high school, I started my studies on my path to the priesthood at St. Mary’s College in Orchard Lake, MI, where I obtained a Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy. Following that, I was assigned to study at Christ the King Seminary in East Aurora, NY, where I obtained a Master of Divinity degree. Those were required for ordination to the priesthood. I served congregations in and around Pittsburgh for seven years.

Seven years after I was ordained, Father Frank Drabiska, the Pastor of Word of God Parish in Swissvale, where I served as his assistant, encouraged me to further my education at Duquesne University where I obtained a Master of Science in Education in 2003, and subsequently a Master of Public Policy and Management for Nonprofit Management from the University of Pittsburgh in 2004. During the latter study, I began to explore other options outside of pastoral ministry.

During this time (1998-2004), I was serving as the Pastor of St. Irenaeus Parish in Oakmont. For years, the parish was stagnant. Without addressing everything, let me highlight a few successes we implemented: a Capital Campaign to eliminate the debt and improve the campus, an increased enrollment in the school which was expanded to include Seventh and Eighth Grades. We also added a number of spiritual programs and sharing groups to serve the members’ needs.

Toward the end of my pastorate, I asked the Bishop of Pittsburgh for a sabbatical to complete my degree at the University of Pittsburgh, to volunteer as a staff member at Jubilee Kitchen in Pittsburgh’s Hill District, and to make a thirty-day retreat. My request was denied, and I was assigned to serve at another parish. After a period of prayer and reflection, I chose to take a leave of absence and worked as a Development Director and Program Manager for Jubilee Kitchen in the Hill District.

Being a pastor in any denomination is not a profession; it is a Divine Call. As a priest, I was handling sacred things; reading and preaching about God’s Word; guiding people to Christ through the sacraments and in prayer. As a Development Director, my job was to raise money. As a Program Manager, my job was to guide people to success and report on that to our funders. To this day, I am still correcting people who say that being a priest or a pastor is just like any other job. It’s not a job; it’s a Divine Call.

I worked at Jubilee Kitchen for two years. In addition to serving as its Development Director, I also started a program for women incarcerated at the Allegheny County Jail. These incarcerated women were mothers of young children. My work there was eye-opening. Many people do not see the women I served as I did. They were flawed sinners, but they were also created in God’s image. I treated them with the dignity they deserved.

For instance, once I was asked to take boxes of canned food from the Jubilee pantry to a client living in a sparse apartment on the Northside. After delivering several boxes of food and paper products, I left. The woman called me within five minutes and said, “Paul, I don’t own a can opener.” I bought one and delivered it to her.

Although the work was demanding and enriching, I knew that I wanted to return to the priestly ministry, but not to the Diocese of Pittsburgh. I worked with the diocesan officials in the clergy office and was eventually accepted as a priest into the Diocese of Santa Rosa, CA.

Returning to ministry in the Summer of 2005, I served as the Parochial Vicar at St. Bernard in Eureka. I loved everything about Eureka. The church and rectory were six blocks from the bay, meaning that if there was a tsunami, we would be safe. The church was beautiful. It was constructed of native redwood trees over a hundred years ago. The rectory was well preserved in its historical setting. I settled in to begin a prosperous ministry. Then, news came.

My mother was diagnosed with multiple myeloma and amyloidosis. This diagnosis is a death sentence. That year, Christmas fell on a Sunday. Pastor Loren Allen of St. Bernard’s told me that he would be able to handle the services alone and encouraged me to spend a week with family in Beaver County. During that time, I spoke with my friend, Dr. William Katz, about my mother’s diagnosis. He told me that she had between two months and two years. I asked, “What do you think I should do?” He replied, “I don’t know what you will do, but I would return home and take care of her.”

At the beginning of February 2006, I returned home to care for my mother. I did not expect this period of my life to be so strenuous. If you lived with a parent who has a terminal illness, you understand that complexity of caring for someone who cannot care for herself and needs you but also has moments when you feel unappreciated. Cancer brings out the worst in people, but it also brings out the best. Realizing her remarks were hurtful, she soon apologized every time.

 I served as a Priest (a Parochial Vicar) at St. Frances Cabrini in Aliquippa beginning in February 2006. I lived with my mother and commuted to Cabrini when needed for Mass and visits to the homebound and hospitalized. My brother, Ed, stayed at mom’s home on the weekends. After an arduous struggle that involved countless treatments and appointments, Mom passed away around 2:00 PM on November 1, 2006 (All Saints Day). I remember it vividly. A woman from Cabrini sat with Mom during the time I led worship and preached at the church’s Noon Mass. I recall that she said, “I think she’s gone,” as we stood at Mom’s bedside. Mom inhaled and exhaled a few more breaths as I replied, “Not yet.” And then the last gasp came, and she expired.

I had no regrets serving my mother for her last year. I never shed a tear like I did when my father died unexpectedly in 2003 because I did everything that mom asked. Everything. Athletes are told to “leave it all on the field” or “leave it all on the floor.” That’s what family caregivers do.

Continuing to serve as a Priest for two more years after my mother passed, I applied for a second sabbatical, which was again denied, and I chose to take a second leave.[2] Following the advice and counsel of a good friend, and at the encouragement of my brother, John, to come to California, I did. In June 2008, I landed an enriching position as the Director of Development for Berkeley Food & Housing Project (BFHP).[3] It was an enlightening period in my life. One year after moving there, I met Cindy.

 

Act Two: The Turning Point

“God brought us together,” is how Cindy answered when people asked how we met. I too believe this. And God has kept us together for 15 years now. Not long after we married, we joined Our Savior Lutheran Church in Livermore, CA. A few weeks after I attended the new members’ classes and was subsequently received into the LCMS, I made an appointment with the Pastor. I offered him my assistance as a Sunday School Teacher or with visits to the elderly or infirmed. After a few minutes of me offering to help him in some capacity, he asked, “Do you want to be a pastor? … It’ll take two years.”

At the time, as I mentioned previously, I had an enriching position as a Development Director in Berkeley. I worked with staff to publish quarterly appeals and semi-annual newsletters. I established planned giving methods to donate appreciated stocks, estate plans and congregational giving. We also tapped into corporate, foundational and government support. I spoke at churches and synagogues. My staff and I worked at street fairs and other events. In addition to exceeding fundraising goals (and getting raises for doing so), I oversaw the 40th Anniversary events in 2010.

One of my fondest memories was working with many talented and dedicated UC-Berkeley students who developed online portals for people to volunteer to serve meals. Those digital portals opened doorways for in-person training, multiplying community involvement in ways I hadn’t imagined. My work with the Berkeley students was so successful that the UC Bonner Program awarded me Supervisor of the Year in 2011. That said, being a Lutheran Pastor was not on my radar in early 2011, but by December 2012, it was.

During that period, Cindy and I talked about her desire to both retire from her position at the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory and to move from California to North Texas where her parents lived. We did that in September 2011, and eventually ended up in Oklahoma City, 90 minutes from her parents. In each turn, it became clearer that God was leading me toward a calling I hadn’t yet named.

 

Act Three: The Colloquy and the Call

My path to becoming a pastor in the LCMS ran through the Colloquy process, which is employed by the Synod when a man ordained in another denomination chooses to leave it and join the LCMS as a Pastor. Unlike some denominations that only require a candidate to attend worship for a year or so, the demanding process established by the Synod meant two years of rigorous self-study. During this time, I read all the books assigned to me by the Synod’s 1st Vice-President, Rev. Herb Mueller, who oversaw this process. My reading included the Book of Concord and the writings of C.F.W. Walther and Francis Pieper, the first two Presidents of the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod.

Although I began the process of becoming a Pastor in the LCMS in the California/Nevada/Hawaii District, I finished my studies in the Oklahoma District. In November 2011, Cindy and I moved to Edmond, an expanding city directly north of Oklahoma City. We joined and became active members of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church. The Senior Pastor, Rev. Barrie Henke, who mentored me throughout the Colloquy process, assigned an erudite vicar to tutor me an hour weekly. In between our sessions, I read extensively when I was not fundraising for an international nonprofit and training to run a marathon. The congregation of Holy Trinity supported me with their prayers throughout this process.

On Tuesday, December 18, 2012, we arrived at the International Center for the LCMS in St. Louis. I stepped into a large conference room where Rev. Mueller introduced me to four pastors. The exam began at 10:30 AM and lasted two hours. Each pastor took a turn asking a question. As soon as I answered one, another question was asked. Near the two-hour mark I started getting a headache and was hoping the exam would soon be over. The last question came immediately after that moment. The last words of my last answer were, “ … and … I can’t remember.” The examining pastor replied, “Baptism.” I replied, “Oh yeah. That’s right.” Rev. Mueller and the others thanked me for making the trip to St. Louis and told me that I would hear something after Christmas.

At the end of December, I received a letter from Rev. Mueller stating that I had been accepted into the Synod as a pastor. On February 28, 2013, the nonprofit which employed me for sixteen months merged into a larger one, and on March 1, 2013, I assumed my new role as a Pastor at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Edmond. Rev. Henke installed me during Divine Service during that month.

 

Epilogue

My only regret about becoming a Lutheran Pastor is that I did not embark upon it earlier, but that was not God’s plan for me. I did not know anyone who was a Missouri Synod Lutheran before I met Cincy. My ongoing study of Lutheran theology helped me reframe pastoral identity and understand ministry as a divine vocation, and not merely a professional pivot. I simply did not leave one job for another. The Holy Spirit guided me throughout this process and continues to do so today.

I was recently asked what major differences I see between the two denominations. I am not bashing Catholics, but there are some differences in Sacrament and Word. In the Lutheran Church, we do not accept transubstantiation (Catholic) or symbolism (Calvinism) but believe that Holy Communion is truly Christ’s Body and Blood in, with and under the form of bread and wine. The emphasis is placed upon the act of eating and drinking Christ’s Body and Blood as Church, and not upon adoration, benediction or processions. None of these three is Scriptural.

Regarding God’s Word, I can honestly say that as a Catholic priest, my homilies were not as structured and direct as my sermons are today. As an LCMS Pastor, I begin every sermon with the same prayer and always end with Philippians 4:7. I often make three points and try to evenly preach on both Law and Gospel (or God’s commands and promises). This practice is unknown in Catholic homiletics, which leaves Catholics unsure about what God commands and what God promises. As a Lutheran Pastor, it is not my opinion of what God teaches through His Word. We claim the pulpit, but Christ calls us through His Church to that pulpit. That truth steadied me throughout the Colloquy journey.[4]

 I have come to love the Lutheran Church and to trust in God more than myself because when someone closes a door on me, He opens at least one more. So, if you want to know how I ended up being the Pastor at two congregations in the same county where I was born and have lived, I will tell them, “God brought us together.” Friends, I was called by Grace and sent to serve. May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.



[1] Pastor Lissy’s track is not that simple, but this post is not about his path as much as it is about mine and understanding the difference.

[2] I know that I did not write about my first request for a sabbatical in 2004. I’ll save that for another post.

[3] BFHP is now known as Insight Housing. Here is the website: https://insighthousing.org/.

[4] In another essay, I will explain the major differences between the two denominations and how The Rev’d Barrie Henke is the reason I preach now the way I do.

Wednesday, July 23, 2025

Teaching Prayer: A Sermon on Luke 11


God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. My sermon today is entitled Teaching Prayer: From Childhood Faith to the Spirit’s Gift in Christ, and my focus is Luke 11:1-13. Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” Now that our feet are standing within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

Today, we’ll explore how prayer shapes us—from childhood beginnings, through Christ’s instruction, to Luther’s enduring wisdom. If you have ever tried to teach a child how to pray, you know how tedious and joyful a task it is. Whether the child is your son or daughter, grandchild or a boy or girl in your Sunday school or Vacation Bible School class, teaching The Lord’s Prayer, Luther’s Morning Prayer or meal prayers can take some time, but after the child has learned the prayer by heart, you know that it will never be forgotten.

Case in point. When I visit people bound to hospital, nursing home or personal beds, when all senses have left them, I am always surprised that frail bodies and minds can still recite by heart prayers learned decades earlier. The Lord’s Prayer never leaves them. That said, let me say that the three points of today’s sermon are (1) teaching children to pray; (2) Jesus teaching his disciples to pray; and (3) what Luther teaches us to pray.

First, teaching children how to pray. Our granddaughter, Emma, stayed with us two weeks when she was younger. We chose to have her pray with us when we recited evening prayer and said meal prayers. With the latter, Emma did fine adding a person for whom we should pray. Reciting evening prayer was another matter. I noticed that she was not saying anything when we spoke the psalms and other Bible passages out loud. After a couple of days, it dawned upon me. Eight-year-olds cannot read aloud like adults can. It is a bit intimidating to read aloud if you cannot pronounce all the words. However, she did speak the Lord’s Prayer and the Glory Be. So that was a good sign.

My point in having her pray with us was to exercise some spiritual modeling. I learned this from my mother and father. When we were young boys, there were some Sundays my dad had to work at J&L. My parents owned one car, and we lived 8 miles from our church. Every once in a while, we rode to church with one of our neighbors, but occasionally we could not make it to church. On those Sundays, my mother had us recite prayers and Scripture passages with her. During Lent, she led Friday devotionals.

In addition to that, my parents alternated praying with us before we went to sleep. They would get down on their knees next to us and together we prayed aloud the prayers they taught us. There were times my dad would turn in before us, and I recall that he would be on his knees praying before retiring. As he got older, he would sit in the living room and read the Bible. After knee surgery, he did this religiously.

When we became teenagers, Dad took us to monthly devotions at church with the men’s group. It was a fantastic way to meet other men who prayed publicly. I was impressed that Monaca’s school superintendent and many other men who worked as electricians, managers, salesmen and so on gathered for prayer and fellowship. I can still picture those memories as everyone, including teenage boys, wore suits or sport coats with ties, praying aloud before worship began.

Did my parents know the impact of their spiritual modeling? Do you know the long-lasting impact that teaching your children or grandchildren how to pray privately and publicly will have on them? Generally, we do. Specifically, we do not. Teaching anything to anyone may have unexpected results. One being, that teaching someone to pray – or anything else for that matter – may humble the teacher.

Imagine being Henry Mancini’s piano teacher, Einstein’s physics professor, Pavarotti’s voice coach. Imagine being the voice coach who heard Pavarotti's first notes—and didn’t know he’d be Pavarotti! Imagine how humble Joseph and Mary must have felt at some point as they taught Jesus how to pray. Scripture offers insight after they found their son in the Jerusalem Temple. My point is: If your most successful student’s accomplishments do not humble you, take a lesson from Jesus. My guess is that in his humanity, Jesus must have felt humble that his followers were asking him to teach them how to pray. Just as prayer begins in childhood, so too did Jesus’ journey with prayer begin—and it deepened profoundly as He taught His disciples. We move to my second point, Jesus teaching his disciples to pray.

In Luke-Acts, prayer is intimately associated with the Scriptures, common life, table fellowship and hospitality. Last week, in the Gospel passage on Martha and Mary, we heard the importance of this association. In Acts 2:42, we read that the first believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” Later, in chapter 6, we are reminded that when the Church chose the first deacons to wait on tables, the Twelve said, “’We will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.’ And what they said pleased the whole gathering, and they chose Stephen” and six others and “set them before the apostles, and they prayed and laid their hands on them. And the word of God continued to increase, and the number of the disciples multiplied greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith.” So, we see that prayer is related to Devotion to the Word, common life, table fellowship and hospitality.

Earlier in chapter 3, Luke distinguished Jesus from John the Baptist and showed how the Lord received the Holy Spirit while he was praying in the Jordan River. Here again, in chapter 11, we find Jesus at prayer in the company of his disciples. Once he finishes, they ask him to teach them how to pray as John taught his disciples. Jesus’ followers needed a prayer suitable to their identity as the Lord’s disciples, and so, fittingly, they make this request by addressing Jesus as Lord, as did Martha in last week’s passage.

According to the prayer, they are to address God as Father for they share in the Lord’s divine life or sonship. Like Jesus, they too will receive the Holy Spirit, if they pray for it. In short, this passage distinguishes Jesus’ disciples from John’s, just as the baptism account in chapter three distinguished Jesus himself from John. Here, Jesus also reveals how those whom he had chosen are related to the Father, and what this relationship demands of them and what they can expect from it. In other words, this passage is not only about memorizing a prayer, but also about the life of Christians journeying to and living in the Kingdom.

The Lord’s prayer is for those who accept to follow Jesus on his journey to God. Recall at the end of chapter 9, how Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem and how several had more important duties and chose not to follow him. The disciples who followed Jesus recognized that it was necessary that he be with the Father and that they too press on in the Christian mission toward the Father. The Lord’s prayer is the prayer of those who received the promise of the Holy Spirit, verse 13 of today’s Gospel. As such, it is truly the Lord’s prayer and not merely the prayer of Jesus.

To understand that, we know that before his death, Jesus had only begun to act and teach, as the opening verse of Acts reveals. After his resurrection, when God made him Lord, he continued to act and teach – as Peter stated in Acts 2, “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” And the Lord’s prayer is the prayer of those who were taught by the experience of the Risen Lord and know that they are God’s sons and daughters. That, folks, is Gospel.

Finally, my third point, Luther teaches us to pray. Learning how to pray has always been an interest of mine. As long as I can remember, I wanted to learn how to pray in order to have a deeper, fuller, richer relationship with God. Some points about prayer I have learned from my parents and pastors, others from professors and printed books, and still others from workshops, retreats and friends. I have come to know and appreciate prayer as the necessary foundation of our work as church and individuals. It is communal and personal. Martin Luther shared this knowledge and appreciation throughout his life.

He frequently wrote and spoke about prayer and emphasized that God commanded us to pray and that God promised to hear us. For that reason, our prayer should be frequent, bold, honest and forthright. Prayer’s starting place is not the human but rather God.

By now, you should have read Luther’s Small Catechism at least once in your life. If you have not noticed, it is a book of prayer. Luther’s structure moves us from the Law of the Commandments, through the Gospel of the Creed, and finally to the Lord’s Prayer, where grace flows freely from God to us.

In A Simple Way to Pray, Luther wrote that prayer should “be the first business of the morning and the last at night. Guard yourself carefully against those false, deluding ideas which tell you, ‘Wait a little while. I will pray in an hour; first I must attend to this or that.’ Such thoughts get you away from prayer into other affairs which so hold your attention and involve you that nothing comes of prayer for that day.”

In his Large Catechism, he advocated daily prayer. “From youth on we should form the habit of praying daily for our needs, whenever we are aware of anything that affects us or other people around us, such as … neighbors.” He continued by reminding us of God’s command to pray and promise to hear us before writing, “I would like to see people learn to pray properly and not act so crudely and coldly that they daily become more inept in praying. This is just what the devil wants.”

As I was preparing this and other sermons, I had also been driving to Pittsburgh to visit my cousin, Joan. Joan and I shared a birthday, three years apart. The last time I visited her she was living in Virginia, having retired from her FBI career. She returned to Pittsburgh, and shortly after that was diagnosed with cancer that metastasized in her brain. Joan was a woman of faith. She loved attending church and worshipping God. Her spirituality was deep, and she too believed the promises of the Lord’s Prayer.

I visited Joan while she was in a rehab facility, but this time I was visiting her at a hospice facility because all treatment, including physical therapy, had been discontinued. Joan spent her last weeks and days praying and waiting. Just waiting to die and to be received into Our Father’s arms. With that, a question emerged: What would Luther have to say to her?

Friends, prayer happens in the midst of darkness, the darkness of night and despair. Commenting on Genesis 15, the story of Abraham, whose descendants were to be as numerous as the stars in the night sky, Luther wrote these words: “The fact that Abraham is commanded to look at the stars is proof that this vision occurred at night, at a time when Abraham was sighing and lamenting. It is characteristic of sublime trials to occupy hearts when they are alone. For this reason, there is frequent mention in Holy Scripture of praying at night and in solitude. Affliction is the teacher of such praying. This because Abraham was occupied with these sad thoughts, he was unable to sleep. Therefore, he got up and prayed; but while he is praying and feeling such great agitation within himself, God appears to him and converses with him in a friendly manner.”

God spoke to Abraham in a friendly manner. Such insights come only through Luther’s personal prayer time. … Back to Joan. During her last days, I spoke to her several times about her situation. She was well aware of how her life would end. While she experienced the effects of brain cancer, she was confident about how the Lord Jesus would welcome her. She was quite hopeful about salvation and eternal life. She was also more concerned about her older sister’s welfare than her own. She prayed many moments throughout the day because prayer was not new to her. Without her lifetime of prayer, she would not have handled this situation with such hope. She prayed the Lord’s Prayer as we do, and in praying through darkness, as Joan did, we echo that very plea—thy kingdom come—holding fast to the promise that death is not the end.

My friends, having said all of this, I have a few questions for you. When was the last time you reflected on when you learned how to pray? When was the last time you got up in the middle of the night, agitated about something? Have you ever been given unwelcome news about someone you love, and could not sleep? Like Abraham, did you go outside and look at the dark sky? Did God speak to you in a friendly manner? Did you turn to God in prayer? Did you pray as Jesus taught?

Four hundred seventy-four years ago, Martin Luther gave you The Small Catechism for your spiritual benefit. If you have a copy, I encourage you to prayerfully meditate upon its words. If you are teaching your children or grandchildren how to pray, turn to it for assistance. If you are reading it as your spiritual companion, let Martin Luther and the Three Persons of the Trinity guide you deeply in your life of prayer, and may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Thank You


July 14, 2025

Dear Members of Mt. Olive Congregation,

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. As I sit down to write these words, my heart overflows with a tapestry of emotions – gratitude, humility, joy and sadness interwoven as I reflect upon the years we have shared together. It is not an easy thing to say farewell to a congregation that has been my spiritual family, home and joy for five years. Yet, as I begin retirement from my role as your pastor, I am filled with a deep sense of thankfulness for the journey we have traveled together and for the ways God’s love has been revealed and made manifest among us.

Serving as your pastor has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. From my very first Sunday with you, I was welcomed with warmth and open arms. You shared with me your joys, sorrows, celebrations and burdens. Together we welcomed new members, gathered around the Lord’s table for Holy Communion and commended loved ones to God’s eternal care. We laughed together at picnics, cried together at gravesides, prayed together in homes and hospitals and sung together in worship. These moments built a foundation of trust, love and mutual care that I will treasure for the rest of my days.

I am profoundly grateful for your faithfulness and commitment – not only to me but to one another and, most importantly, to Christ and His Church. Repeatedly, I witnessed your acts of kindness and generosity: meals delivered to those in need, cards and calls sent to the homebound, volunteers gathering for outreach projects and the steadfast support for our ministries within and beyond our church walls. Through your example, I saw Christ’s hands and feet at work in the world and my faith has been strengthened by your witness.

I am also aware that, as your pastor, I have been the recipient of God’s grace. There have been times when I failed or when my words have disappointed or hurt. I ask your forgiveness and understanding. It is a comfort to know that, in the body of Christ, we are called not to perfection but to reconciliation and growth in love.

Sincerely yours in Christ,

The Reverend Paul David Cwynar

Pastor Emeritus

Rob's avatar

Thursday, July 17, 2025

Conversations


            My sermon is entitled Conversations with God and Others, and my focus is on Genesis (18:1-10) and Luke (10: 41-42). Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” Now that our feet are standing within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

Conversations mark every moment of my day. My wife, Cindy, and I engage in conversations about family, jobs, news, chores, and plans for the future. At work or school, conversations focus on accomplishing goals, executing tasks, reporting outcomes and assigning blame or credit. Conversations in public settings – as we enter and leave church or the supermarket – are friendly and short. Certain conversations with a pastor, counselor, physician or attorney are so confidential that a court of law cannot force us to reveal them.

Conversations generally involve one or two people, but sometimes more. Right now, we’re having a conversation, and most of us are holding separate conversations in our heads. You’re wondering where I’m going with this, and I’m wondering if you’re following me.

Then there are conversations with God. In those conversations, we pour out our thoughts, emotions, desires and disappointments. We cry with the psalmist, O God, you are my God—it is you I seek! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts. In the end, we admit that the Lord probes us and knows us. Conversations with God often start with, “Lord, listen to me,” while the Lord asks us to listen to Him. Let’s look at how our Scriptural characters conversed with God and how those conversations apply to our lives today.

Abraham and Sarah offered hospitality to the Lord, and are models of faith in the Old Testament. Genesis records that they believed God would make Abraham the father of a great nation; that Abraham listened to and obeyed God’s Word; and that God indeed fulfilled His promise.

From their conversations with God, we learn that in contrast to a resistant, mistrustful world, Abraham and Sarah are responsive and receptive to God’s Word. The correlation between God’s call and their response reveals God’s promise and human faith. God promises. Abraham and Sarah listen, accept and obey.

Is it as simple as God promises and Abraham listens, accepts and obeys? What does God promise and to whom? God says: “Go forth from your land and your father’s house to a land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation. I will bless you and make your name great. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you. All the families of the earth will find blessing in you.”

God promises a 75-year-old childless nomad that He will make him the father of a great nation. Abraham thinks for a moment and responds, “Two problems, God. I’m gonna need some land and a son.”

Read Genesis 12–25 and see that Abraham does not accept God’s promises blindly. He made backup plans. To spare his life before Pharaoh, he passed Sarah off as his sister. Because Sarah bore him no children, he took her suggestion to father Ishmael through Hagar, her Egyptian maid. Even when God reaffirmed his promise, Abraham, like Sarah, laughed and asked, “Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah give birth at ninety?” He then said, “God, listen to me. Let my son Ishmael live in your favor.” God replied, “Abe, listen to me. Your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you shall call him Isaac. I will make an everlasting covenant with him whom Sarah shall bear to you by this time next year.”

Abraham’s faith did not occur in a vacuum. It was not without anguish. He was not always sure and often formed backup plans. Nevertheless, the faith to which Abraham is called and for which he is celebrated demonstrates that he acknowledged that God can shatter the normal definitions of reality and bring about newness.

Abraham’s story has meaning because it is set against a fixed and settled world. Our world is no different. We are taught that the world is entrusted to us, that we can construct our own future, or that inequality and oppression run so deep that there is no power on earth or in heaven that can make real change. Our world dictates either inordinate pride or deep despair. Abraham reminds us that God did not abandon creation to us and to our backup plans. Our gracious God promises the amazing gift of life, and God always fulfills His promises.

God always fulfills His promises. Do you think Jesus said that to Mary the moment Martha interrupted Him? Like Abraham and Sarah, Martha and Mary offer hospitality to the Lord. The sisters are models of discipleship in the New Testament. We know from the raising of Lazarus that they believed that God was working through Jesus. As Abraham wanted God to listen to his backup plans, Martha wanted Jesus to listen to her, while Jesus wanted Martha and Mary to listen to Him.

We can appreciate Martha’s predicament. Jesus came to dinner. We do not know how many of his disciples accompanied him, but the passage begins by telling us that they went on their way. Earlier in the chapter Jesus sent out an additional 72 disciples. We also know that the Twelve were not among this second group of disciples. So, it’s possible that Jesus showed up with 84 disciples – the 12 plus the 72. Martha’s problem is threefold: the demands of hospitality are immense; she alone is fulfilling them; and Jesus does not notice.

Surprisingly, Jesus rejects her solution and assessment. “Your problem,” he says, “is that you are anxious and troubled. It’s not that you have too much to do. You are busy with secondary and unneeded matters. Attend to me and listen to my word.”

In the wider context, today’s passage begins with a reference to Jesus’ journey. He is not alone on his way to Jerusalem. His disciples join him, and along the way, he meets would-be followers and a lawyer before he reaches Martha’s house. Some express interest in following Jesus, but must perform important tasks – burying the dead and bidding adieu to family. Luke reminds us that would-be followers must disengage themselves from these responsibilities and relationships.

Without diminishing the importance of her duties to her guests, Martha’s fault, like the lawyer who claimed he was prepared to do his duty for his neighbor, was in not letting Jesus love her as neighbor. As Peter at the foot washing thought, she too made the mistake of thinking that she was the host and Jesus was the guest.

Now, how do these passages apply to our lives? How do we offer Christian hospitality? Are we models of faith like Abraham and Sarah? Are we models of discipleship like Martha and Mary? Do we take time to listen to God? Do we believe God’s promises to us will be fulfilled?

First, hospitality. In the Lutheran tradition, there are three elements of Christian hospitality or table fellowship with Jesus: teaching, eating and the presence of Jesus. When we gather for worship those three are present. At times as ordained ministers, elders, ushers and sacristans, we are so busy preparing and celebrating liturgy that we forget that the posture in which we receive Jesus’ divine service is not the busyness of human doing, but the stillness of listening to His words. As the Apology of the Augsburg Confession reminds us, faith is the highest form of worship. Be still and know that I am God.

Second, are we models of faith like Abraham and Sarah? Several years ago, I attended a presentation by Pastor Joel Bierman entitled Man and Woman in Christ. He challenged pastors to preach like Paul, saying, unlike the Apostle, we’re too timid to say, “Imitate me!” So, I’m going to reveal something about my life, and challenge you to imitate me.

Less than a year into our marriage, my wife, Cindy, made two announcements in two weeks. For the longest time, even before we met, she considered retiring and moving. Retiring and moving, like any change causes stress. … My life changed dramatically since I left the Catholic priesthood in 2008 after 21 years of ministry. I became a well-paid fundraising professional in Berkeley, California when I met Cindy in July 2009. Neither of us was “looking to get married,” but God brought us together, and the rest is history. History in the making.

Cindy’s desires to retire and move made me anxious about our finances. While I was in the colloquy program, I would have to find a new job in whatever city we landed. So, like any reasonable person, I made plans … but they collapsed.

Recall that in his conversations with God, Abraham created backup plans; however, God would fulfill His promises not according to backup plans, but according to His plan. I found myself in a similar situation. I made plans for employment, and God rejected them, much in the same way that the Lord rejected Abraham’s and Martha’s plans.

Has God ever rejected your plans and said something like He did to Abraham and Martha, “Listen to me!”? Listening to God means that we are not only models of faith but also models of discipleship.

Models of faith, models of discipleship listen to God. We know that God speaks to us through creation, history, Word and sacrament. Do we consider that God speaks to us through other people? Have you ever considered that God speaks to you through your spouse or other family members?

You know, the person who drew me to the Missouri Synod is my wife. Did your spouse or someone close to you draw you into a deeper relationship with God? I would like us to consider that Mary, by sitting at the Lord’s feet listening to what He said drew her sister into a deeper relationship with Jesus.

Because you love the Lord and those closest to you, what are you doing to be drawn closer to God? Some have made a Marriage Encounter weekend or some other marriage enrichment weekend. I know from presenting dozens of such weekends how they deepen a couple’s love. Some people dialogue daily on matters deeper than family and work activities. Cindy and I spend time together each day praying, journaling and dialoging. We also read a number of “couple books,” such as Couples of the Bible: A One-Year Devotional Study to Draw You Closer to God and Each Other. This keeps us focused on our relationship, on each other and on God’s plan for us. It challenges us to be hospitable to our gracious God, and to be models of faith and discipleship.

In short, imitate us. Be models of faith and discipleship. Know that God has called you into His immense love, to be attentive to His Word, and to be models of faith and discipleship to others. Today, I ask you to do just one thing. Set aside 14 minutes (the length of this sermon) to listen to God speaking to you and reflect upon His promises. Only one thing is required – that you sit and listen.

I encourage you to do this because we need a church full of people who are humble before the Lord, but bold enough to say to other people, “Imitate me.” Let the Holy Spirit speak to your heart daily, and when you do, may the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.


Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Confessions and Calls


God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. My sermon is entitled Confessions and Calls, and my focus is our Gospel (Luke 5:1-13). … Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’”  Now that our feet are within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

Two months ago, Robert Francis Prevost, a native Chicagoan, was elected to be the Bishop of Rome, the Holy Father or the Head of the Catholic Church, aka, Pope Leo XIV. I open with that statement because Leo is spiritually related to Martin Luther. Both men were prepared for priestly ministry by the Order of St. Augustine (OSA). The Augustinians were formed in 1244 but have no historical connection to St. Augustine. The Order bases its call on the teachings and lifestyle of Augustine.

St. Augustine’s writings undeniably influenced Martin Luther. Luther joined the Order of Saint Augustine at Erfurt in July 1505 and received a spiritual formation that focused on “Great Father Augustine.” Luther’s superior and confessor, Johann von Stauptiz, O.S.A., gave Augustine especial emphasis, and it is certain that Luther read, studied, memorized and cited Augustine more than any other non-Scriptural source.

Why talk about the Holy Father and the Father of the Reformation? My reason is based on a seminal book that should be read by every Christian at least once. Augustine’s Confessions outlines his sinful youth and his conversion to Christianity. If you are interested in how Pope Leo and Martin Luther were formed in spirit and in thought, read Confessions.

Confessions are also found in our Gospel today, and confession/absolution is an integral part of our Divine Service. So, it is these two confessions I will address today. In Luke, we find Simon (I shall refer to him as Peter for simplicity’s sake) confessing that he is a sinful man and that Jesus is Lord. Before we reflect on that, some background.

In chapter four, Luke tells us that in Capernaum Jesus entered Peter’s house and rebuked the fever that beset his mother-in-law. Jesus also rebuked an unclean spirit that possessed a man in the synagogue. The spirits identified Jesus as the Holy One of God and Son of God, and undoubtedly, Peter knew about these activities.

The setting of today’s passage shows us that a great crowd followed Jesus from Capernaum to Lake Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee), and pressed close to hear the Word of God. Jesus had to create space between the crowd and himself so that the Word of God could be heard. Asking Peter to borrow one of his boats so that he could preach and catechize the crowd, the fisherman obliges. In turn, Jesus generously thanks him and then requests that he and his partners do something that defies all logic. He tells them to lower their nets for a catch.

Some Church Fathers point out that it is morning, and the fishermen had been fishing through the night. Even if we do not fish, we understand that the best fishing time is early in the morning, and that time had already passed. The Fathers tell us that this is a reference to Isaiah. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shown.” (9:2) From now on, these men will always be in the Light of Christ.

Upon seeing the catch, the astonished Peter falls at Jesus’ knees and pleads, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” Peter’s confession is two-fold. He realizes how sinful he is and that Jesus is Lord. St. Cyril of Alexandria wrote this about Peter’s confession. “Peter, carried back to the memory of his former sins, trembles and is afraid. As an impure man, he does not dare to receive the one who is pure. His fear was praiseworthy, because he had been taught by the law to distinguish between the holy and the profane.”[i]

In his sermon on this Gospel, Martin Luther separates the passage into two parts. The first is what God does for us, how Christ provides not only for our bodily needs, but also for our spiritual needs.[ii] The second part is the teaching about the spiritual distress and conflict of the conscience and what true comfort it is.[iii] Peter, writes Luther, “begins to feel his own unworthiness and sin and must confess and lament that he is a poor sinner.”[iv]

That Peter sees himself as a poor sinner raises a question for self-reflection: Have you ever given thought to the kind of person you are? We like to think that we are good people, but if we thoroughly examine our lives, like Peter, we might fall to pieces and collapse before God. Peter realizes the kind of person he is, and in Jesus, God shows him how He cares for him and loves him.

In his Confessions, Augustine writes of his own awareness of sin by relating what he experienced when he reflected on stealing pears. You may dismiss Augustine’s example as irrelevant because he writes about stealing pears, but this tiny sin turns out to be the very essence of sin. Augustine was not writing about a sin but sin itself. He did not need the pears. He did not even eat all of them. He threw them to the pigs. Augustine realized that he took pleasure in doing what was not allowed. “My desire was to enjoy not what I sought by stealing but merely the excitement of thieving and the doing of what was wrong.” And yet, when we come face to face with our sin, we are like Augustine, Peter, Isaiah, or Adam. We are horrendous sinners.

Luther wrote that when Peter becomes aware of the miracle (catch) and the type of person Jesus is, he knows that he does not deserve this great kindness, but rather wrath. Luther reminds us: “Here you see how a poor, miserable conscience, when it truly begins to feel its sins, struggles, runs, and flees from God when He comes near.” The conscience “cannot endure the verdict of the Law, which shows it its sins and God’s eternal wrath.” Left alone, our conscience would leave us there ready to flee from Christ when He comes near. Yes, the Law convicts us of our sin, but we see great kindness in Jesus, when He says, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.”

We see how Jesus responds to Peter’s confession of sin – with forgiveness, mercy and love, because He does not want Peter left to mire in his sin. The same goes for us. God does not want us to mire in our sin.

This is why it is with such joy that a pastor says, “Almighty God in His mercy has given His Son to die for you and for His sake forgives you all your sins. As a called and ordained servant of Christ, and by His authority, I therefore forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Our Liturgy reminds us, as our Gospel does today, that the Law indeed convicts us and the Gospel totally frees us. That, folks, covers Confession; now on to Call.[v]

As Lutherans, we know that Scripture is divided into two parts: commandments (law) and promises (gospel). The commandments teach what ought to be done, but they do not give the power to do it. The law convicts a person of wrongdoing and sin and leads to despair. However, the promises of God set a person free, for what cannot be accomplished by works of the law is easily and quickly accomplished through faith.

In The Freedom of a Christian, Luther taught that the promises of God give what the commandments of God demand . . . so that all things may be God’s alone, both the commandments and the fulfilling of the commandments. Through faith alone without works the soul is justified by the Word of God, made a free child of God, and filled with every blessing. Faith derives such great power from God for three reasons.

First, it lives and rules in the soul. Second, faith alone truly honors God. The soul consents to be obedient to God’s will and allows itself to be treated according to God’s good pleasure. For this reason, we must cling to God’s promises, never doubting that he who is true, just, and wise will do, dispose, and provide all things well. Finally, faith “unites the soul with Christ as a bride is united with her bridegroom.” As in a marriage covenant, everything is held in common, the good and the evil, so that the soul can take glory in the goodness of Christ as though it were its own, and Christ takes the sin, death, and evil of the soul upon himself.

Through faith, Christians also become like kings and priests to God, in the manner of Christ. As kings, Christians are exalted above all things in spiritual power and rule amid enemies or oppression, because God works in all things for good to those who believe. As priests, Christians are worthy to come before God in intercession for others and to teach one another divine things. The priesthood is not for a select group of “ecclesiastics” but is for all believers, though not all are called to teach or preach publicly.

Some people are called to teach and preach. Pastor Koontz is an excellent teacher and preacher, and one I admire him for that. But if I am not called to preach and teach publicly, how do I live my call to live as a freed Christian? I am called to love my neighbor.

Luther asked, “If faith does all things, why then are good works commanded?” Because a Christian, though by faith a free lord of all and subject to none, is also a servant of all and subject to all. Good works follow faith as day follows night. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shown.” We live in the Light of Christ, and we live in the world, with its temptations and bodily enticements that hinder us.

I can tell you that as a Pastor for 38 years, it is not always easy to love other Christians. People have agendas that do not mirror the Kingdom of God. That is why we need the discipline of good works as Luther understood it. The discipline of good works can be effective in conforming the outer bodily person to the inner spiritual person, as the Christian does such works out of spontaneous love in obedience to God.

We see in our Gospel that immediately after Peter confesses his sin, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” Peter eventually subjected himself to Jesus and His teaching to the point of his own crucifixion. Subjecting himself to Jesus led Peter to catching men. Another fishing reference reminds us that when you catch a fish in your net or on your line, it dies. When you catch a person for Christ. He does not die, but lives. The sinful self must die, but through the waters of Baptism, a new person emerges.

As Christians, you are not caught up in yourself, but in Christ and your neighbor. You live in Christ through faith, and in the neighbor through love. That said, I close with St. Augustine’s prayer: “I will love you Lord, and I will give you thanks and confession to your name because you have forgiven me such great evils and nefarious deeds. I attribute to your great grace and mercy that you have melted my sins away like ice… I confess that everything has been forgiven, both the evil things I did of my own accord, and those which I did not do because of your guidance.” [vi]

Friends, as you daily confess your sin and live your baptismal call, may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.



[i] Arthur A. Just, Jr., Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament III Luke. Downers Grove IL: InterVarsity Press (2003), p. 89.

[ii] A Year in the Gospels with Martin Luther: Sermons from Luther’s Church Postil, Volume 2. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House (2018), pp. 743ff.

[iii] Ibid., p. 752.

[iv] Ibid.

[v] This is referenced from The Freedom of a Christian by Martin Luther.

[vi] Confessions of St. Augustine, Book IX.