St. Peter's Evangelical Lutheran Church, Cambridge, ON

Sunday June 7, 2026
Second Sunday after Pentecost

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/r3bCytmqDNg

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after Pentecost
Sunday, June 7, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
Our gospel story today presents us with two vignettes. In the first scene we meet Jesus at a dinner party at Matthew’s house – his new tax collector disciple, where he is confronted about his choice to hang with tax collectors and sinners. In the second scene, we jump to Jesus healing two people – one on purpose and one not. In one instance, Jesus heals the daughter of a prominent citizen who has died (or at least was believed to be dead). And a woman who simply reaches out to touch Jesus’ clothes is healed from her chronic illness.

These two vignettes seem to stand alone – and in fact, you may have noticed that we did skip over some verses in our reading. So these two scenes don’t happen directly one after the other – although close together. And even though they seem to be quite different on the surface, when we hold them side by side, they help deepen the meaning of each. So let’s begin by taking a closer look at the second vignette – these two miraculous healings.

The healing stories that show up in the Bible are complicated. They offer a beautiful promise. The promise that God desires health and wholeness for us. The promise that God has power to make health and wholeness a reality. And yet …what about those times when healing doesn’t happen in the way that we want or need it to come? Because this is too often the reality for us.

People die too young. People live with debilitating and chronic illnesses for years with little relief. How hard it is when the healing we long for, the healing we pray for, doesn’t come. It doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem fair. And then we have stories like this – of a young girl being raised back to life; or a woman being healed from her chronic illness. And we might ask ourselves – why them and not me? Why them and not my loved one who is ill?

It’s complicated. And I wish I had better answers to this question. Why some people are healed and others are not. I once heard a wise person say, “we’re all healed until we’re not.” Still not a fully satisfactory answer – but true. None of us get out of here alive. But it sure would be nice if it wasn’t so darn painful or difficult sometimes.

This is where I find myself returning to Jesus’ words in that first vignette. When the upright citizens come and confront Jesus about spending time with the outcasts, Jesus turns to them and says, “I want mercy, not sacrifice. Go and learn what this means.”

I want mercy, not sacrifice. Life is hard enough without us making it harder on each other. Without us putting people into boxes, or making rules that benefit some groups of people over others.

When Jesus met people who were pushed aside, Jesus made a point of pulling those people in. Tax collectors who nobody liked because they were the ones who helped the Roman Empire – the oppressors – stay funded. People who because of bad luck or bad choices, found themselves living on the edges – just barely getting by. People whose ill health or disability prevented them from participating in the life of the community.

And as disciples of Jesus – as followers of his way – we are asked to learn what this means. To learn what it means to embody mercy.

I’m certain that every person here – whether in the building or online – can think of something difficult you’ve overcome in your life. A challenge or a setback or a loss that upended your life, but somehow you made your way through to the other side. These kinds of life experiences are powerful. They change us. We learn a lot from the difficult times in our lives. And often, once we’re through those times, we can look back and realize how these moments have shaped us. Sometimes we might even feel a strange sense of gratitude for those hard times because they have made us who we are now.

And, we get to choose how we will weave these experiences into our lives and our view of the world. Do we allow these kinds of experiences to sow bitterness in our hearts; or can these moments deepen our compassion for one another? Do we become the person who says, well I did it, I suffered through it, and so you can too? Or do we want to be the person who says, yeah, that was really awful, and if there’s something I can do to make it so you don’t have to go through the same hell that I did, I’m going to do that.

There are many things in this world that are beyond our control to change. But there so many areas where we can make a difference.

I’m so grateful for the labour activists before me who fought for paid parental leave so that when I had my son, I could spend time caring for him in his first year of life without fear of losing of employment.

I’m so grateful for those who fought to make universal health care here in Canada a reality. I know our system is under increased pressure these days, but I’m so grateful that I can seek medical care without worrying about it putting me into debt.

I’m so grateful for the 2SLGBTQIA+ folks who fought for full equality under the law. And especially for those who stayed in the church when the church was a painful and even unsafe place for them to be. Because of their faithful perseverance, we are on a path to more faithfully live out the gospel and embody Jesus’ vision of beloved community.

Jesus shows us again and again that mercy looks like doing what we can to make life better for those around us. Unlike Jesus, we don’t have the power to heal every ill. We don’t have the capacity to right every wrong. But when someone is sick or struggling, just showing up, being present, bringing a hot meal, sending a card, making sure they know that they’re not alone – these things are huge too. Or when we see an injustice, speaking up and taking action, even if we don’t see immediate results – or even if we work for a lifetime to bring change that never comes – we know that we are following in Jesus’ steps; fighting the good fight. And we never know who might come after us to carry forward the work that we couldn’t finish ourselves.

I desire mercy, not sacrifice. Go and learn what this means. This is the work of a lifetime. A work that is never accomplished. And a work that we don’t abandon. Because this is the work that Jesus calls us into.

Gracious Spirit, give us perseverance, humility, and wisdom, to heed these words – that your vision of goodness and abundant life for all, might become ever more a reality. We pray this in Jesus’ name – who calls us to follow him. Amen.
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Sunday May 31, 2026
Holy Trinity/ELCIC Day of Action

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/DprXrs6LagY

Sermon for Holy Trinity/ELCIC Day of Action
Sunday, May 31. 2026
Video Sermon by National Bishop Larry Kochendorfer

Matthew 28:16-20

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him, but they doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Welcome to the 7th sermon series that our Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada is providing for congregations.  It is great to be with you this Sunday.  I am Larry Kochendorfer, the National Bishop. My preferred pronouns are he/him. I currently live, work, and play in the city of Winnipeg, the historic gathering place of the Anishinaabeg, Cree, Oji-Cree, and Dakota Peoples and the Homeland of the Red River Métis. 

I invite you to hold a moment of reflection for the ground under your feet where you are today, giving thanks for the peoples who have come before us and in a spirit of care for this land on behalf of future generations.

Dear church, grace and peace to you in the name of the Triune God, Three-in-One and One-in-Three.

This day, Trinity Sunday, has been called the great hinge. Trinity Sunday stands between the two halves of the church year. The first half – Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent and Easter focus on the life of Christ – and the second half, the life of the church.

While some call this day a great hinge – others call it a great pain! So much so, that deacons and pastors will go to great lengths to invite a guest preacher – even the National Bishop – to proclaim the Word on Trinity Sunday.

We all know the presenting problem: It’s the only Sunday in the church year that focuses exclusively on a doctrine of the church and, if we’re going to be perfectly honest, it’s a pretty complicated doctrine.

I’ve said for years that: 1) I don’t fully understand the Trinity, 2) I don’t expect to this side of Jesus’ return, and 3) I tend not to trust those who say they do.

And just in case we feel uneasy that we don’t really understand the Trinity let’s keep in mind that the church fought over it for a century or more.

The Rev. Dr. Kyle Schiefelbein-Guerrero, Grace Professor of Leadership and Director of Contextual Formation at Lutheran Theological Seminary, Saskatoon, preaching on today’s text proclaimed: “The Trinity is not three separate persons or three different modes of God. The familiar language that Jesus uses at the end of Matthew’s Gospel highlights that the Trinity is relational and active, not a collection of static persons…. Generations of theologians – including St. Augustine, who attempted to describe the Trinity as ‘love, the loved object, and the lover’s love for that object” – have attempted to explain the very nature of God in terms of what and how. Yet a doctrine, especially one that can be as technical and complicated as the Trinity, has no role in our faith unless it describes the why.” [1]

It’s not the what and the how…but the why. 

The early church Elders described the why – the relational and active Trinity – the Three-in-One, One-in-Three – with the word perichoresis, which means “dancing around.”  Three distinct persons moving as one in a shared, joyful dance – a dance of celebrating difference while existing as one joy-filled community – a community of love.

This is the why of the Trinity that our world longs to have revealed.  This is the good news.  All are invited to join this community of love – to join the dance – where gifts are honored and brokenness transformed, where unity and diversity exist together. This beloved community – this community of love – is our true home, our true calling, for we were created to join the beauty-making work of the triune God – we were made to dance. 

Schiefelbein-Guerrero, goes on to say: “The community of love that is the Trinity mirrors the community of love that is the Church – or at least, that is how it is supposed to work. It is no accident that Jesus’ last words recorded in Matthew’s Gospel are words of the Trinity, calling his followers to baptize, teach, obey, and remember.

These are central actions of the Christian community:

            — baptize and break down the barriers we put up to the beloved community;

            — teach about Christ’s costly grace and the free gift of salvation;

            — obey Jesus’ command to love one another as he has loved us, modeled through the            humble act of foot washing;

            — and remember—remember through partaking of Christ’s body and blood,            
                 remember the call of the Holy Spirit in our lives…remember the oppressed and
                 the outcast, those who need both spiritual and physical nourishment.”[2]

This final word from Jesus to “remember” is more than just fondly remembering – more than nostalgia. The verb means to “take hold” of something. Jesus calls those who seek to follow him – calls us – calls the ELCIC – to take hold of what he has done and taught and to go into the world.

This is what we are seeking to do together today as the ELCIC, on this Day of Action. This year marks 40 years in the life of our church! This milestone not only invites us to remember our story, but also to reflect on who we are today and how God is calling us forward as a church.   

Today’s ELCIC Day of Action is an opportunity to live out that calling together – to dance – living out God’s grace and unconditional love - to step beyond our church walls and into our neighbourhoods, joining with others across our church in acts of – in a dance of – service, compassion, and care in Christ’s name, where all are invited into the dance.

Whether our efforts are simple or ambitious, each is a faithful expression of who we are as the body of Christ. Today this dance includes:

Holy Trinity in Edson, Alberta who are making birthday party bags for their local food bank.

Evangelical Lutheran Church of the Resurrection, in Halifax, Nova Scotia who are hosting a ‘Sidewalk Fiesta’ following worship which includes food, activities, and a peace flag. 

Nazareth Lutheran in Standard, Alberta is partnering with a local group for a ‘work bee’ to care for trees in a nearby park.

Zion Lutheran in Weyburn, Saskatchewan is hosting a BBQ picnic, a classic car parade, delivering care cards and collecting items for the food bank.

Thirdspace at Martin Luther University College in Waterloo, Ontario is hosting teams at the food justice garden and student food distribution project – planting, sorting and cleaning.

Ascension Lutheran in Nelson, BC is hosting an open house offering mental health first aid and Naloxone training in response to the local drug crisis.

Trinity Lutheran in New Hamburg, Ontario is working to support homeless youth with education, laptops, and job opportunities.

St. Stephen’s and St. Bede in Winnipeg, Manitoba is participating in a spring cleanup and sharing an ELCIC 40th Birthday cake.

Grace Lutheran in Wetaskiwin, Alberta is painting rocks with inspirational messages to give out in the area and plant along walking paths.

The National Staff and our families are gathering this afternoon at a care centre in Winnipeg to be present with residents through conversation, games, and music.

And I could go on and on.

As we live out God’s grace and unconditional love our actions hope to touch and bless others as we journey together to be a diverse, inclusive community that celebrates all and upholds life-giving relationships.

Thank you, dear church, for the many ways you already serve. I look forward to the witness we will share together today through the ELCIC Day of Action.

So, dear church, dear sisters and brothers, siblings in Christ,
living out God’s grace and unconditional love,

Go –
go to your homes,
go to your places of work,
go to your neighbourhoods;
go there to begin anew,
go caring for all of creation,
go and be God’s people for the love of the world.
And as you go – you go with Jesus’ promise – take hold of it:
Remember. I am with you.
And dance, dear church, dance.

Prayer: (adapted from The Rev. Susan R. Briehl. Day 1, April 30, 2000.)

Holy God, come among us, in the good news proclaimed, in water and Word, present in loaf and cup, and in the company of others who seek to follow Jesus.
Send us, filled with the breath of your Holy Spirit,
To breathe peace into fearful lives,
To love one another as we have been loved,
To welcome the stranger and make friends of enemies,
To forgive the sins that bind others to the past,
To serve, on bended knee, all in need of care,
To be your wounded and risen Body in the world
And to enter with joy your in-breaking, startling future. Amen

[1] Schiefelbein-Guerrero, Kyle (2025) "The Triune God Spills into Creation, Calling Us to Love One Another," Consensus: Vol. 46: Iss. 2, Article 8.  DOI: 10.51644/ZRJN4443
Available at: https://scholars.wlu.ca/consensus/vol46/iss2/8
[2] Ibid.

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Sunday May 24, 2026
Day of Pentecost

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/WD-1TNmO9-s

Sermon for the Day of Pentecost
Sunday, May 24, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

Acts 2:1-21
Over the last few weeks, we’ve been hearing stories from Paul’s missionary travels through the Roman Empire. His work to spread the good news of Jesus and establish Christian churches. But today our story takes us back in time about 10-15 years. To get our heads around what’s happening in this story, we need to get ourselves back to Easter Sunday, which we celebrated 7 weeks ago. Jesus’ followers have stayed in Jerusalem where it all went down – the 12 disciples (minus Judas) plus more than 100 other disciples.

According to the book of Acts chapter 1, over a period of 40 days the risen Jesus continued to appear to them, teaching. It was Jesus who told the disciples to stay in Jerusalem. He can’t tell them exactly when, but he promised that the Holy Spirit will be coming to them here. But then one day, the risen Jesus is lifted up in a cloud and out their sight. Finally, they are well and truly on their own. And so they wait. One week, 8 days, 9 days, and then finally on the 10th day – this day, Pentecost – what Jesus had promised comes to pass.

The disciples are all gathered in one place when a howling wind fills the house. Individual flames of fire dance over each of their heads, and they are filled with the Holy Spirit and given the ability to speak all these different languages. The languages of people from across the Roman Empire who have either made their home in Jerusalem or have travelled here to celebrate the festival of Shavuot in Hebrew – known as Pentecost in Greek

The Jewish festival of Shavuot, which always falls 50 days after Passover, is when the Jewish people celebrate the day God gave the Torah – the 10 commandments – to their ancestors on Mt Sinai. It’s important for us to pay attention to these roots. What we call the birthday of the church is part of this long story of God’s relationship with creation. God is up to a new thing in this moment – but not a brand-new thing out of nothing.

For the disciples who, like Jesus, were also all Jewish, there is deep significance in God choosing this day to baptize them with the Holy Spirit. Just as God blessed their ancestors on this day all those generations ago with the gift of Torah – in the same way, on this day, God blesses them with the gift of the Holy Spirit. Both of these moments mark a shift, a transition in how the people experience and relate to Creator.

It’s also important to note that this moment marks a branching in the tradition. Those Jews who believed Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah go on to form what we now call the Christian church. And those Jews who did not believe Jesus was the Messiah, go on to form what we know today as Judaism – people who also have a living faith and relationship with God.

Following the branch that we belong to, we see that God initiates this new community of believers with a gift of the Spirit – a gift of languages. God could have chosen to make everyone able to speak the same language – it might have been easier. But that’s not what God does. God chooses to give the disciples the ability to speak all these different languages so they can share the gospel with their neighbours in the language of their hearts.

Let us sit with this for a moment because this is significant. Rather than making everyone speak one main, dominant language, God gives the disciples the ability to share the good news in a way that people can best understand and be receptive to it. In a way that makes it familiar to them. This gift of languages creates an outward, expansive movement that embraces diversity, and honours what is particular/unique about each of us.

I wonder, what languages do we need to learn so that we can share the good news of God’s love with our neighbours? It’s not a question that we probably ask ourselves very often. As the church these days, we mostly hope that people will come to us. And if, and when, they do, we expect them to learn our language. Our churchy words; our ceremonies and rituals and practices. We can forget how weird all this stuff actually is. How foreign our language, our practices are to people who haven’t grown up in the church. How do we translate what matters in ways that others can understand?

The story of Pentecost also asks that we get outside of these walls to learn the language of our neighbours. What matters to them? What are their hearts longing for? What do we have in common? To learn the languages of our neighbours asks us to listen deeply, to be curious, to build connections. This posture itself is a way of sharing God’s unconditional love with the world. And opportunities to share about God’s love with words may present themselves too!

All this and we’re only halfway through the story of Pentecost! At Bible study last week there was lots of energy around the second half of this story where Peter speaks to the crowd. We can imagine the chaos, the noise, the confusion. And good old Peter steps up to gather everyone’s attention. To help them understand what is happening. He tells them, this isn’t nonsense, this isn’t public drunkenness – this is the word of the Lord!

He goes on to preach a sermon that contains both words of hope and of doom, which is the piece that really connected for us. We feel that doom these days! It’s worth remembering that the people in Jesus’ day did too. And pay attention to what Peter does to weave the doom and hope together.

He quotes words from the Jewish prophet Joel. Words that were a part of his internal faith library – words that lived in his heart – that he can recall like that. And then he reinterprets these ancient words to give them new meaning in this moment. He says to the people, remember what God promised way back then to our ancestors? The same is true now, and in fact you’re experiencing that hope in the midst of despair right now! This chaos, this confusion, this is God’s word of hope for you.

As we here at St Peter’s wrap up another year of the Narrative Lectionary; this cycle of readings that tell the story of God’s unfolding and ongoing relationship with creation; Peter gives us a poignant reminder of the power of these stories. He shows us how telling and re-telling the stories of faith are what give us grounding in times of uncertainty and fear. These ancient stories help us make sense of what’s going on in our lives. And we, like Peter, are invited to be on the lookout for how God is still at work in the world here and now.

Where it feels like there is only doom and despair, can we offer a word grounded in hope? A word of promise and life? A word that recognizes just how bad things truly are – that doesn’t sugar coat or silver line anything – AND that says the bad thing doesn’t get the last word!

This is what the world needs, and this is what we can offer. The knowledge that God is always holding this world in love. A faith that chooses to live by the story of hope and not of fear. The promise that love is the very strongest force in the whole world and God’s love always gets the last word.

It’s a word that we too struggle to trust some days. Like those disciples waiting in that house all those centuries ago, we too need the Holy Spirit to guide us and gift us. Thankfully she is as present in this time and place as she was on that Pentecost Day. And so we pray, Come, Holy Spirit, Come. Blow among us as you did among those disciples centuries ago, enlivening and enabling us to share your love with the world. Amen

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Sunday May 17, 2026
Seventh Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/39KK21PBcGs

Sermon for the 7th Sunday of Easter
Sunday, May 17, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

The Christ Hymn – Philippians 2:1-13
Our reading this morning comes from a letter that Paul wrote to the Christians in the city of Philippi. Paul visited here on one of his missionary journeys, and we heard about some of his adventures in this city just a couple of weeks ago. Philippi is where Paul was wrongly imprisoned, after casting a spirit out of a slave girl. During his time in this city, he helped establish a church before moving on to the next place. But Paul kept in touch with this community by writing letters.

From the way he speaks about the Philippians in this letter, Paul clearly shared a special kind of connection with this group of people. In his words we can see his love and respect and care for them. Even though they were separated by distance, these folks were always close in Paul’s heart. But it would appear as though all is not well for the people in Philippi. Based on clues in the letter, there seems to a conflict in the community. Word of this conflict has made it back to Paul and so he writes this letter to encourage them and to give them some advice.

One of the things I love about these letters in the New Testament that even though they were written to these ancient Christian communities who lived in a very different time and place that we do, there is so much that is timeless – like disagreeing and getting into conflicts at church. It’s comforting to realize that even from the very earliest days, Christian churches had to deal with this. I know we wish that churches could somehow escape conflict – that we ‘should’ somehow be above this – but we can’t, and we’re not. Wherever you have two or more people gathered, there is potential for disagreement and conflict, even in a church.

And while it’s comforting to know you’re not alone, it's heartbreaking too. And that’s because when disagreements and conflicts happen in a church community the fallout can be especially damaging. We aspire to be communities grounded in love and compassion and in God, and so when a hurt or harm is done, it can make us question our faith; even question God’s goodness.

This is why as church it’s important to be honest about the fact that we are not immune to disagreements or conflicts. That there will be times when we will let one another down. To face this truth with honesty so that we can also be open about how we will work together to prevent disagreements from going too far. And so we can deal with them in a good way when they inevitably happen.

To the Philippians, Paul asks them to always keep Christ and his example of humility in the front of their minds. Christ who did not exploit or take advantage of the fact that he is God. Who not only gave up power to become human like us, but who died the kind of death reserved for the lowest of the low. Humility. This is the quality that Paul lifts up for the Philippians to embody.

Humility comes from the Latin word ‘humus’ which means earth, soil, or ground. This is the stuff that is literally below our feet, and our creation story teaches us that God formed us from this earth, this soil. So we could say that humility is recognizing that we are all made of the same stuff – no one is better than anyone else – and we are connected to one another because we’re all made of the same stuff. But it’s one thing to know something in our minds. It’s another thing to put it into practice. How do we live humbly? What does this look like?

There’s another clue for us in this letter, and this is Paul’s focus on ‘self-emptying.’ Paul tells us that Christ emptied himself to take on human form. He gave up his identity as God for a time, so that he could understand and experience what it was like to be embodied on this earth. Christ put himself in our shoes, you could say. And while we don’t have that kind of power, to transform ourselves into another body, we can still find ways to put ourselves in another person’s shoes.

Does anyone here struggle with listening? I wonder, have you ever heard yourself say, “you’re just not listening to me!” It’s not always easy to listen well. A lot of time while we’re ‘listening’ we’re actually just being silent while we think about what we want to say back. But that’s not really listening. Listening well actually looks a lot like this self-emptying that Paul talks about. When we’re really and truly listening to someone else, we empty our mind of our own agenda, our own response, and do our best to be present and attentive to what the person we’re with is saying. We set aside our agenda for a moment to really try to understand where the other person is coming from.

This kind of listening is something that takes practice – and even as we get better at it, we won’t do it perfectly. And yet the ability to listen well to each other is so important for the health of a community. And in a community – or a family – it’s something that we all need to do. So how do we practice this kind of self-emptying listening? How can we strengthen this muscle? Because it is a muscle we can strengthen.

Next month I will be concluding the certificate in ecospirituality that I’ve been doing for the last two years. Ecospirituality is grounded in the belief that the sacred – that God – is present in all of creation. That this whole world is sacred – and that God meets us in nature – or as we will call it in my program – the holy wild.

One of the practices that is central to this work is spending time on the land listening. Using all of your senses to be present to the more-than-human others who share this earth with us. To use our imaginations – and what we know from science – to consider how other creatures make sense of the world. To slow down and pay attention and be curious about their point of view.

To watch a bird soar through the air and imagine what things must look like from way up there. To stop and watch a snail slowly crossing your path and wonder how it must feel to move so slowly. Does it feel slow to the snail? To watch a salmon swim upstream and imagine what that current must feel like, water rushing past your body, at times hardly moving at all, and yet not yielding to that force.

I think that part of the reason it can sometimes be hard for us humans to really listen well to one another is because we are so similar on the surface. The fact that we are so obviously different from the more-than-human-others make them excellent partners for practicing listening. We can be curious and present and attentive to the more-than-humans others without all the same baggage we bring to our human relationships.

So I offer this to you as a practice if you want to strengthen your listening muscle. I know that it may not seem like an obvious connection, but give it a try for a few weeks – maybe over the summer – because like any practice it takes repetition. And I would love to know if you begin to notice anything shifting within you as you listen deeply to the holy wild.

We all have growing edges when it comes to listening, but it’s with this kind of mutual and curious listening that we can still be on the same page even when we disagree. In another of his letters Paul uses the image of a body to talk about how we are not all the same – that we have unique gifts and roles and perspectives. With Christ as our unifying centre, we can be different and still be on the same page about how we treat and care for one another. About our shared purpose and vision to live our God’s grace and unconditional love in this world.

Be humble. Self-empty. Do not regard yourself or your view of things or your needs as better or more important than anyone else’s. Seek to understand before being understood. Be on the same page about what matters most. It’s no small ask that Paul has for us today, but this is how saved people live. And when we fall short – and we will – take heart that it doesn’t depend solely on us. For it is God at work in each of us, who enables us to want and to actually live out God’s good purposes. May it be so. Amen

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Sunday May 10, 2026
Sixth Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/fmdRUG018mY

Sermon for the 6th Sunday of Easter
Sunday, May 10, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

Paul in Athens – Acts 17:16-34
Today we meet Paul in the Greek city of Athens. He’s still on the same missionary journey that brought him to Philippi, where we met him last week, but for the moment he’s by himself. His traveling companions have sent him on ahead and so he’s on a bit of a layover you could say, trying to occupy himself until his friends meet up with him again.

Not one to relax or take a break it would seem, Paul has been out and about in Athens. Exploring, engaging with the people, learning about their customs. And admittedly he’s struggling a bit in this diverse, cosmopolitan city. One of the things distressing Paul are all the temples and shrines around the city dedicated to various gods. I’m sure that many of you are even familiar with some of these Greek gods because these myths are still told and taught today. Paul comes from a religious tradition that believes there is only one God, and he finds himself in a city filled with people who believe that there are in fact many different gods.

But even though this distresses Paul, he seems genuinely interested in building connections, learning, and having conversations with the Athenians. He listens and he shares in the synagogues and in the marketplace, and eventually he piques the curiosity of some philosophers who invite him to come and tells them more. They take him to the place where ideas are debated – Mars Hill – and Paul is given the floor.

And in this opening, Paul – somewhat uncharacteristically – gives us a pretty great model for interfaith dialogue. Paul has a reputation for being zealous in sharing what he believes – even to the point of being rude and adversarial – but in this particular speech, he is gracious and open-hearted, and it’s worth taking a closer look at how Paul navigates this moment.

Paul begins by showing respect to the Athenians. He praises them for their religiosity – their faith and spirituality. And then he looks to what they share in common by talking about the altar to an unknown god that he came across on his wanders.

For Paul, this altar to an unknown god is an opening to say, “there is a god that you are already worshipping – you call it the unknown god – but I know this God’s name – let me tell you about who this god is.”1 Which is exactly what he goes on to do in his sermon. Notice that Paul doesn’t start with talking about Jesus (which is unique to Christians). Instead he talks about an experience of God they share in common – God who made the world and everything in it. Paul even quotes the Greek poet Aratus’s words: “we are his offspring.”2 Again, he shows that he’s taken the time to understand and learn about their traditions, and brings the focus onto what they hold in common. That they all can agree that we all come from one source of life.

Only at the very end of his sermon does Paul bring in what does set them apart: what he believes this one God desires for us. That this one God doesn’t need images or shrines. What God desires is for us is to change our hearts and lives.

In the end, Paul gets a mixed response to his sermon. Some people think he’s talking nonsense, some are still curious, and some of them right then and there decide to join him and his movement.

Throughout the ages, Christians have wrestled with how to relate to world around us and to those who are different from us. And within the Christian tradition we have examples of groups that have embraced the world and those that have separated or distanced themselves from the world.

Given the state of the world some days, I can understand the choice to distance. In this world there are so many temptations and things that can draw us away from trusting in God’s love and provision. There are so many idols in our time too – money, possessions, self-idolization. Martin Luther said, “whatever your heart clings to and confides in, that is your God.” But when we draw a line between ourselves and the world, it’s a false division. It can make us feel like there is good here and bad out there, which isn’t true. It can even be dangerous because we might miss seeing the temptations and dangers in our midst. And when we draw a line, we end up missing out on so much that is good and beautiful and of God.

Paul’s time in Athens offers a pretty great model for how to engage with the world. He models openness, curiosity, finding common ground, while also knowing what he believes and being confident to state those beliefs when he is invited to do so. There is so much beauty in the world. The diversity among human cultures is a gift. Engaging with this beautiful, diverse world helps us grow. Learning what others think and believe forces us to be clear about what we think and believe.

This first posture of openness and curiosity feels especially important in our context. The history of this land is one of colonization and disconnection. Of imposing foreign values and ways of being upon the peoples who were here first. While some of us may be able to trace our ancestry to the original peoples of this land, most of us are the descendants of peoples who came here from other places. The work of healing and reconciliation asks us to listen and learn from the indigenous peoples who live alongside us here. To learn their history, their stories. And in doing this we will almost certainly, like Paul, find points of connection and common ground.

Being in humble and loving relationship with the world will provide opportunities to share our gifts. A posture of humility and love testifies to God who loves the whole world abundantly and fully. And as connections are made and relationships take shape, we may be asked to share about ourselves. About what motivates our efforts in the world. About the love of God who we know in Jesus that grounds our faith and values.

In a world of diversity – and of idols – it’s important that to stay grounded in our faith and values. This is where Christian community becomes so important. This is where we are grounded in our stories, our teachings, our practices. Where we remember who and whose we are – beloved children of a loving God. This is where our souls can be refreshed and renewed by the Word and the Sacraments and then sent out to share this love with God’s precious world.

We are blessed to be alive in God’s world – a world filled with beauty and diversity. Thanks be to God, who is always bigger than any one person’s or culture’s way of seeing. May we always be curious, always open hearted, always grounded in the knowledge of God’s goodness and love. For in doing so, we will be blessed by the depth and love of God who is alive and active not only in our own life, but in this whole big beautiful world. AMEN.

1 Bibleworm Podcast Episode 739.
2 Footnote in Jewish Annotated New Testament, page 260.

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Sunday May 3, 2026
Fifth Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/R2T8wjAWT9A

Sermon for the 5th Sunday of Easter
Sunday, May 3, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

Paul & Silas – Acts 16:16-40
Today we meet Paul and his traveling companion Silas in the city of Philippi (an ancient Roman city whose ruins can be found in present-day Greece). After his life-changing encounter on the road to Damascus, Paul is now on a missionary journey to bring Jesus’ message of love, life, and liberation to all who will listen. And in this story, that theme of liberation – of freedom – is woven through the arcs of all the characters. The unnamed slave girl, Paul & Silas, the other prisoners in Philippi, the jailer; they all experience being freed from something that held them captive. Sometimes physically, sometimes spiritually.

There are some beautiful moments in this story. And there are other parts that are more difficult. Not every character in this story gets a happy ending. Whenever I hear this story, my heart goes out to the unnamed slave girl. For days she has been following them around, crying out to all who will listen that Paul and Silas are “servants of the Most High God who proclaim a way of salvation.” It’s important to say that she speaks truth. You could argue that she’s making a great sales pitch for these two missionaries. But her shouting gets on Paul’s nerves. In a moment of annoyance, he casts the spirit of divination out of her.

Now on the surface this might seem like a good thing. The girl is freed from the power of this spirit. But Paul does not – or cannot – free her from the bondage of slavery. The girl is still a slave; and now she’s a far less valuable slave for her owners. We never get to know her name, and she disappears from the story. We can only guess at what might have happened to her; but it’s likely her life just got a whole lot more difficult; more precarious. Her owners will still expect her to earn them money – and with divination off the table her options are limited. We know that most girls who were slaves at this time were used for sexual services.

This is the hard reality of the world we live in. Not everyone’s story has a happy ending. Not everyone gets the gift of liberation from all that binds them in this world. There are still so many in our world, and especially many girls and women, who like this nameless slave girl, are easily forgotten or taken advantage of.

This truth is particularly front of mind as we come up to Red Dress Day on Tuesday. This day of remembrance for the thousands of missing and murdered indigenous women, girls, and two spirit individuals in our own country. In Canada, “Indigenous women and girls make up less than 5% of the population but represent approximately 24% of all homicide victims. They are 12x more likely to be murdered. Over 60% of Indigenous women experience physical or sexual violence in their lifetime.”1 It’s a painful truth that there are still many places in this world where it’s not easy or safe to be a woman, and particularly a woman of colour, even here.

As we remember this unnamed slave girl, I’m also aware that Mother’s Day is just around the corner (and that during fellowship today, we’re having a Mother’s Day tea to celebrate the women in this community). Mother’s Day can be a difficult or complicated day for a lot of us. For those who’ve longed to be mothers, for mothers who’ve lost children, for those who didn’t or still don’t have a good relationship with their mother, for those who’ve lost their mothers. These days Mother’s Day is a sentimental kind of holiday, but the roots of this holiday are anything but sweet and sentimental.

The beginnings of Mother’s Day go all the way back to the 1870’s, when a woman named Julia Ward Howe wrote an "Appeal to womanhood throughout the world," which later became known as the Mother's Day Proclamation.2 Her appeal calls on women to join together to work for peace in the world, and was a peaceful response to the carnage brought about by the American Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War. It begins like this: Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.3 Julia Ward Howe understood the power women have, both as individuals, and especially when they work together. Indeed, women are a force to be reckoned with when we gather together and set our minds to something.

We never hear what happens to that slave girl after her encounter with the annoyed Paul. She completely disappears from the story never to be heard from again. Instead, the story carries on with Paul and Silas who find themselves in prison, and then miraculously released by an earthquake. God intervenes to free Paul and Silas from the walls and chains that hold them captive. And the jailer too receives this gift of salvation, when Paul, Silas, and the other prisoners give up their freedom – their chance to escape from prison – for his sake. This is where we really see God’s word of promise enter the story.

Jesus tells us that he came to set the captives free. Jesus came to bring freedom, so that all can live in peace, so that every person can have dignity and worth. The miraculous release of Paul and Silas, Jesus’ proclamation of freedom – these are calls for us to act when we see another person’s worth and dignity threatened. This is our call to speak out for all who suffer, who are lost, who are forgotten. Not only women, but all of us, we are called to unite ourselves with the voice of Christ whose life was an example of love, peace, and grace for the whole world. We won’t always do it well or perfectly or enough. While my heart will always hurt for the slave girl in this story, and Paul’s failure (or inability) to secure both her spiritual and physical freedom, I’m heartened by Paul and Silas’ other choices in Philippi… witnessing to God’s goodness as they sing and pray through the night in prison; giving up their chance at freedom to care for the wellbeing of their jailer; refusing to go free until their accusers are made aware of the injustice of their imprisonment.

Like Paul, we won’t get it right in every situation. Sometimes our well intended actions will have unintended and even harmful consequences. And still, Jesus calls us to set the captives free. To use our voices and the influence we have, to bring life and freedom for all people, and especially for those most harmed, most disadvantaged, in our communities.

This day and this month, may Julia Ward Howe’s proclamation echo in our own time: Arise, then, people of this day! Arise all you who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Arise and let your cries for justice be heard far and wide! So that everyone might know their inherent worth and dignity. So that all may live in peace and freedom. May it be so. AMEN.

1 https://amnesty.ca/red-dress-day/
2 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother%27s_Day_Proclamation
3 https://reformedjournal.com/2017/05/11/arise-women-of-this-day/

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Sunday April 26 , 2026
Fourth Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/ttrjIWzy4_E

Sermon for the 4th Sunday in Easter
Sunday, April 26, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

Acts 9:1-19a – “Called Into Christ’s Service”
“The conversion of Saul,” as this story is often called, introduces us to a very important figure in the New Testament. Saul – or Paul as he was also known – wasn’t one of Jesus’ disciples. He never even met Jesus in his lifetime. But because of this moment – this life-changing spiritual experience on the Road to Damascus – Saul becomes one of the most important missionaries in the early church. Saul was responsible for starting many new churches, and bringing the teachings of Jesus to communities around the Roman Empire in the years after Jesus’ death.

A quick aside, many of us may have been taught that Saul changed his name to Paul after this moment, but that’s not actually the case. Paul is just the Greek version of the Hebrew name Saul. So throughout his lifetime, depending on who he was with and what language they spoke, Saul would have answered to either name – Saul or Paul. But for sake of simplicity today, we will be calling him Saul.

So as I was saying, Saul is a super important figure in the New Testament. Which means his transformation – his conversion – is also hugely important. We likely would not be sitting here today if Saul’s zeal for breaking down this early Jesus movement hadn’t been redirected toward building it up! But, I would also argue, we likely wouldn’t be sitting here today either if it weren’t for Ananias who plays a pivotal part in this story.

We don’t know very much at all about Ananias. This is the first and only time he shows up in the Bible. All we know about him is that he lives in Damascus and he’s a follower of Jesus. I think we can assume that he’s a faithful man – a man of prayer – because when God speaks to him in a vision, he is ready to listen. Unlike Saul who is confused about who’s talking to him, Ananias recognizes immediately that his vision comes from God.

Ananias doesn’t seem surprised to receive a vision from God, but he is definitely surprised by the message; offended even. How can God ask him to go and help this terrible person who has been persecuting his friends; his community? How can God ask him to show kindness to this enemy?

And Ananias isn’t afraid to push back, which I love. Remember, Saul isn’t just somebody Ananias disagrees with. Saul was on his way to Ananias’ hometown to round up and persecute people like Ananias – to put them on trial and even have them killed. So this isn’t just something Ananias doesn’t want to do because it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable. This is something that puts him in a vulnerable position. What God is asking him to do is scary and dangerous.

But even as he objects, I can see Ananias’ realizing that this is one of those moments when he is being called to walk the talk. I can see him recalling how Jesus talked about how you are to love your enemies and pray for those who harass you. And so reluctantly but faithfully, trusting that God must be up to something that he can’t yet understand, he goes to the house where Saul is and does what God has asked him to do. Miraculously, Saul is healed, and immediately he wants to be baptized. In an incredible turn of events, Saul is a man transformed and ready to serve the Lord.

Where we leave off in the story today – with Saul’s healing and baptism – is where his part in God’s story really takes off. As we will see in the next couple of weeks, Saul wastes no time using his zeal to share the good news of Jesus with whoever will listen. This is where Saul’s story takes off, but this is where Ananias takes his leave. As soon as his task has been completed, Ananias disappears from the story. The only other time he is mentioned is much later when Saul talks about this moment in a sermon. Saul remembers Ananias by name, a sign to us just how much Ananias impacted Saul’s life. Ananias may not have gone on to do great things that were recorded and passed down through the generations, but for Saul, this moment was huge. Without Ananias’ faith and courage and love, Saul would not have been who he was.

As I was preparing my sermon this week, I found these words coming to mind(and I’m sure some of you will recognize this hymn): “If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul, you can tell the love of Jesus and say, “He died for all.” This is from the African American spiritual “There is a Balm in Gilead.” And Ananias inspired me to tweak it just a little bit: If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul, you can be like Ananias, and do the small piece you’ve been tasked to do.” (It doesn’t rhyme, but you get the point!)

Now if you sense a big calling in your life from God to serve the church like Saul did – a call to preach or teach or serve on church council or be a pastor – that is amazing. I would love to connect with you and heart about it. To listen together for how you might respond to that sense of call. But for all those who do not relate to Saul in this moment, we still have Ananias.

Ananias is a model of faithfulness that we can all look up to. We may or may not be blessed with visions, but we can all be faithful. Because faithfulness just means paying attention to how God provides opportunities for us to serve where we are. Those opportunities to live out Jesus’ call to love God and our neighbours.

It’s not always about the big things that are seen by lots of people. The small acts of love and kindness add up in big ways. And like Ananias, one of the most important – and not so easy – things we can do is to love and pray for our enemies.

Most Bibles will call this story “The Conversion of Saul” but the Narrative Lectionary calls this this story “Called into Christ’s Service.” Called into Christ’s service. I love this name because this story isn’t just about Saul. This is a story of two people who show us what it looks like to be called into Christ’s service.

Sometimes it looks like a bolt of lightning that totally sets us on another course. And sometimes it just looks like listening and following the Way that Jesus has already shown us. Doing our small part in God’s big story.

We are all called into Christ’s Service. God needs all of us – with the unique gifts and perspectives and abilities and experiences that each of us bring. Thank you Ananias for your witness. And Gracious Spirit, may you give us open and willing hearts to follow in Ananias’ footsteps, sharing the love of Jesus with everyone we meet. May it be so. Amen.

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Sunday April 19, 2026
Third Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/dzFBUFoKtms

Sermon for the 3rd Sunday of Easter
Sunday, April 19, 2026
Preached at St. Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 21:1-19
Although we’re now two weeks out from Easter Sunday, here in the church it’s still Easter. In fact, we have 5 more weeks of Easter to celebrate. Five more weeks to focus our attention on the resurrection. Five more weeks to figure out how to hold on to the promise that life is stronger than death, as regular life carries on. And this isn’t easy. How do we hold on to the hope and the joy and the promise of life as Easter gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror?

It seems to me that this is the question Jesus’ disciples must have been asking themselves. We don’t know the exact timing of this seaside resurrection appearance. We do know the location though – they are at the Sea of Tiberias. Perhaps better known to us as the Sea of Galilee. Which tells us that the disciples are now back home.

A three-to-five-day journey north on foot, the day of Jesus’ resurrection and first appearances are at the least several days behind them. The disciples have returned to the lives they left behind when they embarked on this grand adventure with Jesus. I can imagine them sitting around and asking themselves, “what now”? Because I can certainly think of times in my own life when I’ve asked myself that question.

I think of some of the significant spiritual experiences I had as a young person – going to the National Youth Gatherings and other church youth camps and retreats. These were formative, life-changing experiences. Times when I felt a deep and powerful connection with God and my faith. Perhaps you can think of similar significant spiritual experiences in your own life. These moments that feel life-changing, and then you have to go back home to the seemingly same life you left behind. Your routines, responsibilities. It’s hard to carry the feelings and energies of these moments forward into our everyday lives.

Which is maybe why Peter suggests they all go fishing. Because what else can they do? Nothing will ever be as significant as what they’ve all gone through these last weeks, months, and years with Jesus. But the fishing expedition is a total bust. They’re out all night and don’t catch a single thing. Until someone shows up on the beach and yells at them to trying putting their nets down on the right side of the boat. Instantly their nets fill with so many fish they can’t even pull it into the boat. And in that moment, recognition.

This is the risen Jesus, come to them yet again. It’s a joy-filled reunion. Jesus cooks them breakfast as they hang around the campfire like old times. But then the mood shifts as Jesus asks Peter “do you love?” Three times Jesus asks this, and three times Peter responds, “you know I love you.” And each time, Jesus speaks again the mission: Feed my lambs. Take care of my sheep. Feed my sheep.

The unspoken message…even though I am no longer here to lead you, the mission remains. Even though the excitement and heightened emotions of the resurrection are behind you, you can’t go back to life as it was. It’s up to you now to take care of each other and the needs around you.

Feed my lambs. Take care of my sheep. Feed my sheep. This is a huge calling. And it can be tempting to think that the responsibility for this mission is all on our shoulders. Which is why it’s important to notice the rhythm, the pattern in this story. Before Jesus asks the disciples to feed his sheep, first, he feeds them. Jesus gives the disciples what they need before he sends them out to care for the needs of others. And we are promised the same. Jesus doesn’t expect us to care for the world by our own strength alone.

Jesus promises to feed us – to give us the spiritual sustenance that we need to that we can do that work of caring for his sheep. To do that work of tending to the needs of our community – of this world. Which is why I’m glad that you are here this morning – whether you’re in the building or online by zoom (or even reading this sermon at a later time because you want to stay connected to this community).

Christian community – church – is by no means perfect. But when it’s at its best, church is where we are fed by God’s love. Love that is revealed in the story and the sacraments. In the healing waters of the font. In the bread of life and cup of salvation at Jesus’ table. In the stories of God creating and embracing this whole creation in love.

Sunday morning worship may not always give us those memorable, life-changing “mountaintop” spiritual experiences we long for. Those moments can’t be manufactured or controlled. But whether my sermon hits it out of the park or it bombs; whether we sing all your favourite hymns or too many new ones for your liking; what I know we can count on every single week is:

• Community that helps us remember we are never as alone as we might feel.

• Community where we get to practice feeding with one another – of caring for other people and being cared for in return.

• Community where we can find rest for our souls so that we can go out once again to do the work Jesus asks us to do: Feed my lambs. Take care of my sheep. Feed my sheep.

Jesus’ call to follow isn’t an easy call. There are times when it will lead us to places where we don’t want to go. We will need companions, and we will need God.

Jesus, you ask us to carry your promise of love and life into this world which you so love. Just as your love has changed our lives, we long to share that love that changes lives with others. Feed us with your love today so that we can follow in your way. AMEN.

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Sunday April 12, 2026
Second Sunday of Easter

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/rqUgTBEUuOY

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday of Easter
Sunday, April 12, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 20:19-31
Because we are one week out from Easter, I always need to remind myself that in this story it is still Easter Sunday. This is the evening of the morning of Jesus’ resurrection, and the disciples are hidden away because they’re afraid of the religious authorities. We don’t know the exact reason for their fear – whether they think the authorities will come for them next; or that the authorities might suspect them of having done something with Jesus’ body. But then Jesus appears to them in that room, just as he had appeared to Mary earlier that day. Easing their fear. Restoring their hope. Filling them with joy. What a beautiful gift in the midst of a scary and confusing time. And poor Thomas misses the whole thing!

Thomas has gotten such a bad rap over the years. In Western Christian tradition, forever remembered as “doubting” Thomas. But is it really fair for this to be the thing we focus on? Especially when all Thomas ever asked for was the exact same thing that his friends got. And not to mention, Thomas was the only one of them who wasn’t holed up and hiding! I feel bad for Thomas because we know how hard it is to believe something to be true just because someone tells us that it is. Even when it’s from a friend or source of information that we trust, until that story connects with something in our own lived experience, it’s really hard – and I would argue even impossible – to believe it fully and deeply. To believe that this thing might be true for us too!

I like to think that Thomas really wanted to believe his friends. But their story was so far outside his lived experience he had no way of believing it to be true. How do you believe in something as wild as resurrection from the dead without any evidence? It’s hard to believe something based on words alone. And this is especially true when it comes to matters of faith and spirituality.

We live in a culture that values our minds – reason and logic – as the ultimate source of knowing. And as people of faith, it can be tempting to think that if we just explain it convincingly enough that we can bring others to belief. But faith isn’t just a matter of the mind, it’s a matter of the heart and the body too.

Just last week I was listening to an interview with journalist Michael Pollan. Pollan is known for writing a lot about food and agriculture, but he has recently written another book on the topic of consciousness. Now I haven’t read the book yet, but there are some pieces from this interview that have stuck with me.1 Consciousness is that awareness of our surroundings, our thoughts, our feelings, of sensations. Consciousness is knowing that we exist. Or as Pollan says, that feeling of what it’s like to be you.

Pollan takes on an interesting question – where does consciousness reside in our bodies? Most of us would probably be quick to say our brains or our minds. Our brains are amazing organs. They do a lot of the heavy lifting you might say. But the brain doesn’t do it all, and it can’t do it alone.

Consciousness involves thoughts and feelings and sensations. And feelings and sensations are felt first by our bodies. Without our skin, our brain wouldn’t know that we’re itchy. Or without a stomach to grumble, our brain wouldn’t know that we’re hungry. And when we think about emotions like fear or anger or sadness, we feel these feelings in our bodies. A heaviness in our gut when we’re afraid. A tightness in our chest when we’re angry. A sense of longing or love that arises from our heart centre. Our minds and our bodies work together to help us make sense of the world. They are both sources of knowledge.

It’s no small thing that Jesus was resurrected in a body. Albeit a new kind of body – one that could somehow magically transport through walls and closed doors. But a body nonetheless. This is no ghost! And in a body that was familiar and recognizable. That bore the wounds and scars of his mortal life. That could breathe, and that did breathe on the disciples.

In this resurrection appearance there are so many sensory moments. The disciples get to experience the resurrection with sight and sound and touch. I even wonder, did Jesus’ resurrected body carry his familiar smell? And ultimately Jesus does give Thomas was he needs to believe. Jesus comes again so that Thomas can see, hear and touch just as the others had.

“Happy are those who don’t see and yet believe.” Jesus’ words are often interpreted as an admonition of Thomas (further cementing his reputation as ‘doubting’ Thomas). But I can’t help but think that Jesus’ words are meant more as an invitation for us than a critique of Thomas. For us, and for all those who long to believe, living in these days after Jesus has returned to God. It’s to us that Jesus says, “Happy are those who don’t see and yet believe” We do not get to see or hear or touch the resurrected Jesus. So how do we believe in something as unbelievable as the resurrection? How then do we learn to trust ever more deeply in this promise that death doesn’t get the last word?

I have preached on this story many times before and a part of the story that stood out to me this time is something I haven’t paid much attention to before. That moment where Jesus breathes the gift of Spirit upon his disciples. I mean, it’s such a weird moment – breathing on your friends. And one that doesn’t land quite the same for us who have recently lived through a global pandemic where we were afraid to breathe around one another for such a long time.

Putting all that aside, there is something powerful about Jesus choosing to breathe in this resurrection appearance. Just as the winds blew over the waters at creation, or the breath of God animated Ezekiel’s dry bones, in this moment Jesus breathes the Spirit to anoint and initiate this community as they carry on his work. “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.” Not to condemn the world, but to spread love and life and peace.

Breathing is something that we all do. Our bodies know how to breathe without us even having to think about it. Which makes this part of the story something that is confirmed by our lived experience. We are all connected by this breath of Spirit. Because this breath of Spirit flows in our bodies just as surely as it flowed in the bodies of those disciples from long ago. Every time we take a breath, we can feel the closeness of God. As long as we can breathe, we are alive, and this is a gift to celebrate and share with others. This is gift of peace and love is ours to share as freely and abundantly as Jesus did.

We may not get to see and touch the risen Jesus as the disciples did; but with our bodies and minds, we can still experience this promise for ourselves and share it with others. Our breath – this gift of the Spirit that flows in and out of our bodies continuously even when we’re not consciously aware of it – is the breath that enables us to follow in Jesus’ way to love and care for this world.

Holy Breath of God, may this gift of breath that flows in our bodies, be enough to help us trust in the promise of resurrection – that death does not get the last word. And may this gift of breath, your Spirit, give us courage and conviction to go out as your disciples to love this whole world.

Amen

1 https://armchairexpertpod.com/pods/michael-pollan-returns

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Sunday April 5, 2026
Resurrection of Our Lord: Easter Day

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/PXzjAFcEGa0

Sermon for Easter Sunday
Sunday, April 5, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 20:1-18
These last days as we journeyed through holy week, a bit of an unintended theme began to emerge. On Maundy Thursday, we remembered Jesus washing his disciples’ feet,and I invited those gathered to embody the spiritual posture of ‘depending.’ Because to be the kind of community Jesus calls us to be, asks us to practice depending on one another. Recognizing that we need to not only be willing to give help, but also to ask for help – which as we reflected, isn’t easy for a lot of us to do. For so many reasons, we would much rather be the helping hands than the hands that need help.

But even in our Easter story this morning, we see that spiritual posture of ‘depending’ show up! When Mary arrives at Jesus’ tomb early on this Easter morning and finds the stone rolled away, she doesn’t know what to do and her first instinct is to get help. She runs to get Peter and the beloved disciple who come back to tomb with her.

And when they arrive together, we can see how they depend on one another to check things out. On her own Mary couldn’t even approach the tomb. The beloved disciple is brave enough to go a few steps further up to the entrance, but doesn’t go in. And Peter, with the other two alongside him, takes that first brave step inside, where the beloved disciple finally joins him. There is power in numbers. When we are brave enough to admit we need help, friends show up, and together we can face scary things that are too much for us on our own.

On Good Friday, we sat with the painful story of Jesus’ death, and we paid special attention to the part of the story where Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus tend to Jesus’ body by giving it a proper burial. We spoke about the spiritual posture of ‘tending.’ In the face of great pain and grief, we can feel helpless because it’s beyond our ability to fix it. What we can do, however, is ‘tend’ to the pain.

To tend something means to care for, look after; give one’s attention to. In a spiritual sense, tending is a way of being present to the world – and to ourselves – with love and attention. Not with an intention to fix or change; but to honour all that is around us – the hard and the beautiful – listening for how we may (or may not) be asked to respond.

And again, in our Easter story, this spiritual posture of tending shows up. The story doesn’t say why Mary was up so early to visit Jesus’ tomb, but imagine that she couldn’t sleep because she was distressed, and so to tend to her hurting heart, she decides to visit Jesus’ grave. To take some time alone in this garden where, as poet Wendell Berry would say, she could be held by the peace of wild things. And even after Peter and the beloved disciple leave the garden, Mary lingers. Confused, crying, tending to her big feelings. If she had not done this, she would have missed the biggest moment.

Perhaps by now you’ve noticed the pattern that wants to emerge. Depend, tend…on this Easter morning what other spiritual posture – that rhymes of course – can we find in this story? There was one word that came to mind for me – and I’d love to hear if you think of something different. But for me, the word that emerged was ‘suspend.’

Suspend is a word that has some different meanings, but I’m thinking of it in the sense of setting something aside for a moment. In this resurrection story I see at least two things that the characters are asked to suspend.

The first is the invitation to suspend their fear. This is a scary moment. The stone should not be rolled away. Could there be bandits or soldiers around that might cause them harm? Mary, Peter, and the beloved disciple were most certainly afraid as they come to the tomb. But if they did not suspend their fear – set it aside for just a moment – and take that risk of investigating, they would not have discovered the truth. That Jesus’ body had not in fact been stolen – a rational conclusion – but he has in fact been raised to new life, just as he said.

The second thing these disciples at the tomb teach us to suspend is our doubts. Now I want to be clear, doubts are a normal and healthy part of faith. So many stories in the Bible defy logical or rational explanation. And it can be dangerous when we are certain we have all the answers already figured out. But something like the resurrection can only ever be received by faith because it is so far outside our own experience of what is possible.

I love how the beloved disciple models this suspension of doubt for us. When he finally enters the tomb and finds it empty, even without any physical evidence, we’re told he believes even though he doesn’t yet understand how these things can be.

And Mary, who at first could only imagine that someone must have stolen Jesus’ body, is soon asked to suspend that thought. As she lingers at the tomb, she is met by angels and then by the risen Christ himself. Two moments that defy any rational, logical, human explanation. Two moments that demand she suspend any doubts and open herself to this impossible and amazing “good news.” Jesus was dead, and now he is alive!

To suspend our fear. To suspend our doubts about God’s power to work good even in the most impossible situations. This is the Easter faith we are invited into on this day of resurrection. Again this day we are invited to place our trust in the abundant love of Christ. This love that has the power to bring hope where we see only despair; joy where we see only sorrow; life where we see only death. Today we suspend our rational explanations, knowing that only by faith can we perceive the good news of the resurrection. That Christ was dead, but now he is alive, and we can live in joy knowing this gift is for us.

This gift that promises there is more to things that we can sometimes see with our human ways of knowing. This gift promises that God is always at work, even in the most impossible situations, bringing new life and possibilities that we can’t yet imagine.

And so together we practice this posture of ‘suspending’ as we pray…

Risen Christ, as you appeared to Mary on that Easter morning, show yourself to us. Help us suspend our fear, suspend our doubts, and give us courageous faith to trust ever more each day that you are at work in this good creation bringing life and love and peace. Give us Easter faith to follow in your way that we too may witness with our whole lives your abundant love for this world. Amen.

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Friday April 3, 2026
Good Friday

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/jXkZRt9Vt8o

Sermon for Good Friday
Friday, April 3, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 19:1-42
The story of Jesus’ passion is a harsh story. A story with so many hard edges. The betrayal by the people. The crowd who just a few days ago cried “Hosanna,” now cries “crucify!” The violence of Jesus’ death. Beaten, taunted, humiliated, forced to carry the cross, nailed upon that cross alongside two others. The raw grief of his family and friends witnessed these horrors unfold. These are the visceral moments in this story that demand our attention.

And yet, when we pay close attention, there are moments of softness in this story too. Pilate’s moment of doubt. Jesus’ mother, the beloved disciple, and the other women who refuse to leave his side. And the two men, Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, who tend to Jesus’ body after he has died.

We don’t know much about Joseph of Arimathea. He doesn’t show up in the story until this moment. All that we’re told by the gospel writers is that he a man of prominence and a disciple of Jesus.

But Nicodemus is someone we’ve met before. Nicodemus first encountered Jesus three years earlier, right at the start of Jesus’ public ministry, when his curiosity led him to seek Jesus out for a private conversation. And it was to Nicodemus that Jesus first spoke what are now some of his most famous words: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but will have eternal life. God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”

Having now witnessed the living out of that unending love, Nicodemus joins Joseph in offering one final gift of love for Jesus. Together the two men take Jesus’ body and lovingly wrap it, along with burial spices in linen cloth. And in the nearby garden, they find an untouched place for Jesus’ body to be laid to rest. A bittersweet moment of softness and care at the end of a brutal and horrifying day.

As we sit on this day with the brutality and pain of the Good Friday story, this story asks us to also sit with the brutality and pain and injustice of the world. Which is no small thing. We live in a day and age where we have the capacity to hear about every terrible thing that is happening everywhere in the world. It’s often too much for us to bear. For our own wellbeing, we can’t take it all in. And yet, Good Friday asks us to pay attention to these things. To not look away. To stand at the foot of the cross and witness the harshness of this world because it matters to God when this good creation suffers.

And it is overwhelming because we feel helpless. And we are helpless. We cannot fix the world’s suffering (except perhaps for those small pieces that are in our sphere of influence). So as you honour the pain and the harshness, may you also hear another invitation in this story. The invitation to ‘tend.’

Joseph and Nicodemus tend to Jesus’ body. They honour it and show it care and love. They couldn’t fix the events of this horrific day, but they could tend to their grief by tending to their friend’s broken body.

To tend something means to care for, look after; give one’s attention to. We cannot fix the world’s pain, but we can tend to the pain – and our own pain – so that it doesn’t consume us; so that we don’t have to turn away and just pretend none of this terrible stuff is actually happening.

When I think of tending, one of the first things that comes to my mind is gardening. Now I don’t profess to be an avid gardener, but I do like to try and grow things. In gardening there is so much that is not in your control – the sun, the weather. And there are things you can do to contribute to the health of your garden – like adding compost, or watering when it’s been dry. But knowing how and when to do that well begins with noticing, paying attention. As you tend to your garden in this way, you begin to learn when an intervention is needed; or when it’s time to let nature do her thing.

Tending is also a spiritual posture. It’s a way of being present to the world – and to ourselves – with love and attention. Not with an intention to fix or change; but to honour all that is around us – the harshness and the softness – listening for how we may (or may not) be asked to respond.

And so, as we sit with this Good Friday story today, I invite you to join me in a prayer practice of seeds and soil. A practice to help us tend to the pain of this world and of our own hearts. For those on zoom (or those reading this sermon in printed form at a later date), unless you happen to have some seeds and soil on hand, I invite you to use your imaginations for this practice – and perhaps to do it with some physical seeds and soils at a later time.

Hold (or imagine holding) the seeds in your hand. These gnarled, ridged nasturtium seeds. Seeds that only exist because of a plant that has completed its life cycle and died.

As you hold these seeds, I invite you to bring to mind your prayers for those people, places, and situations whose suffering weighs heavy on your mind; and to place these prayers as they arise in your hands with these seeds. … You may want to close your eyes or focus on your gaze on the seeds in your hands…whatever feels most helpful and natural for you…

We offer our prayers for…
Those regions of our world that are experiencing war or violence…
The suffering of the earth…
Jesus’ own suffering and death, and the many people who suffer unjustly in our times…
The people you know who are hurting…
Your own hurts and struggles…

The weight of all this hurt is too much. It is too much for us, it is too much for these seeds. We cannot fix it. We cannot alleviate it. All we can do is ask God to hold it for us. And so I invite you, as you are able, to make your way forward to this table where there is soil. You are invited to plant these seeds – no more than ½in deep is what nasturtiums like.

For those on zoom/reading, you are invited to imagine a place in your own garden, or in an imaginary garden, planting these seeds….preparing the spot, putting the seeds in the earth, covering them over…

As we do this – either physically or in our imaginations – we do it with the intention of offering these prayers to God…
…
Now the work of tending begins. We know that seeds need moisture to germinate. When you go home, give your cup a little water – keep it moist. As you tend these seeds, each day, bring to mind again the prayers you infused into these seeds. Open your heart to pain and remember that this pain is not yours to bear alone. Just as the soil holds these seeds in love, so God holds you and this whole world in love…

And perhaps in time, these seeds will sprout, inviting you to find a place where they can put down roots and grow. May it be so….

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Thursday April 2, 2026
Maundy Thursday

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/xcoffBOMalo

Sermon for Maundy Thursday
Thursday, April 2, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 19:23-30
This Lenten season we have been making our way through the story of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion. Along the way we’ve had opportunities to settle into this story a bit more deeply. To really notice and pay attention to the movements, the details, of this important and impactful story. Which is how tonight we find ourselves at the foot of Jesus’ cross with his mother and disciples.

What a moment of heartbreak and helplessness. For this mother, experiencing every mother’s worst fear. For these beloved disciples and friends, unable to save Jesus and yet unwilling to leave him alone. It’s hard to imagine a more frustrating or painful feeling than being helpless in the face of great need. Helpless to change the terrible things we see happening around us. Helpless to change our circumstances or the bad things that happen to us.

But in that moment of helplessness – from the cross – Jesus offers his help one more time. A final gift of love and care for those who have stood by him. “Mother here is your son; son here is your mother,” Jesus speaks to Mary and this unnamed beloved disciple. Even in this moment of great suffering, Jesus is thinking about love and connection and family. A simple invitation to his mother and his friend to re-imagine their relationship. To recognize that after he is gone, they can rely on each other in the days ahead as life carries on.

The community – the new kind of family – that Jesus sought to create in his lifetime was a way of being rooted in interdependence. A recognition that life is better when we share it with others. That the joys are deeper, the sorrows lighter, and our needs are met as gifts are shared.

Interdependence is essential for a healthy community, but it’s something that can be a struggle for us to live into. Interdependence literally means dependence on one another. And I don’t know about you, but that word dependence can really rub the wrong way.

Our individualist society teaches us to be independent and self-sufficient. We don’t want to bother or inconvenience others. Maybe we assume other people will take advantage of us or that we’ll appear weak if we ask for help.1 We would much rather be the ‘helping hands’ – not the hands receiving help. But the thing is, you can’t have interdependence without dependence.

And as Spiritual Director Cindy S. Lee points out, “dependence facilitates communities of grace.” And isn’t that what we want to be? Communities where we live out the promise that God’s love doesn’t need to be earned. Communities where acceptance is the starting point, not a reward down the line.

We like to fool ourselves that we can manage on our own; that we can take of ourselves. But it’s only when we recognize deep down the truth that we are all dependent on God; dependent on this good creation; dependent on each other. Only then will we begin to be the kind of community Jesus invites us to be. Which means dependence is something most of us will need to practice. Thankfully Maundy Thursday gives us a chance every year to do just that.

Jesus washing his disciples’ feet is a profound example of humility & dependence. A gift to his disciples to sit down for a moment. Where Jesus says with his actions – there is no hierarchy here – you are worthy of receiving my care and attention.

When Christian communities re-enact this footwashing moment, it’s a chance for us to practice dependence. To remember not just with our minds but with our bodies – our whole beings – what it feels like to receive love and care from another human being.

This isn’t easy for us to do. It takes vulnerability to let someone else wash your feet. It’s deeply uncomfortable; at least it is for me. This is my 14th Maundy Thursday as a pastor, and the first time I’ve included footwashing in the liturgy. I’ve often just told myself, well it’s just performative anyway. What does pouring a little water over someone’s feet really accomplish? And maybe that’s partly true. That there is a part of 21st century Christian communities practicing footwashing that is performative. And yet, when I’m honest with myself – my resistance to footwashing has been about my own vulnerability. That this is kind of weird and I don’t really want someone paying attention to my feet unless it’s my doctor or I’m getting a pedicure.

A few weeks ago, I was out for my morning walk and already thinking about this service because Bonnie and I were trying to get a head start on the service planning. I knew that with our scripture text that I wanted to talk about dependence and interdependence, and I was trying to think of some kind of practice we could do together that would help us embody this idea. To make it tangible; real – not just a nice idea in our minds. And then it hit me. It was one of those “duh! Of course!” moments. Maundy Thursday already includes a practice to help us embody this very thing. I don’t need to reinvent the wheel. It’s just time to push the boundaries of my comfort zone a little!

On this night – the final night Jesus spent with his disciples – Jesus made a point of not just telling, but showing the disciples the kind of community he wanted for them by washing their feet.

If we desire to be a community in Jesus’ way, a community that both cares for one another and relies on one another, it’s good to practice what it feels like to receive care from one another.

And so if, like me, the idea of footwashing makes you feel uncomfortable, I invite you to take a moment to sit with that discomfort. Like all of our feelings, discomfort has wisdom and teaching for us. And many of us have been taught not to trust our discomfort. And you may have had people who in small ways or big ways, violated your sense of what is comfortable for your body. And so it’s important to honour and listen to your discomfort. To ask yourself – is this situation something that is unsafe for me? Or is this my ego talking?

Not everything that makes us uncomfortable is something that we should avoid. And in fact, we grow when we step to the edge of those discomforts. In the case of footwashing (or handwashing), we begin to learn what it feels like to receive the love and care and attention of another.

So tonight, let us not only remember, but practice together being the kind of community Jesus invites us to be. At the wash basin and at the communion table – in this meal we will share – we honour the ways we are connected as members of Jesus’ own family.

Mother, here is your son. Dear friend, here is your mother. As you look around you this night – as you gaze upon the faces or names in the boxes on your screen – whether these are people you have just met or people have known for a long time, may the Spirit bless you with sight to see beloved family members around you.

AMEN

1 Reflections on dependence borrowed from Cindy S. Lee “Our Unforming,” chapter 7.
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Sunday March 29, 2026
Palm/Passion Sunday

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/9oeL5suo0gY

Sermon for Palm/Passion Sunday
Sunday, March 29, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 12:12-27; 19:16b-22, 28-30
Oof…didn’t that just take the wind right out of our sails. This is the emotional rollercoaster that is Palm/Passion Sunday as we remember what is must have also been like for those who witnessed these events firsthand. So much hope. And then all those hopes dashed within the week.

Jesus’ arrival to Jerusalem starts out on such a high. Just a little while earlier he had been in Bethany where he raised his friend Lazarus back to life. This amazing miracle. News of which had already spread far and wide. Which is why people are expecting great things from Jesus. They couldn’t help but wonder, “is he the one?” The one to help them resist the Romans. To help them take back their homeland.

As Jesus enters the city, the people cry out, “hosanna.” A word that means “save us.” They are clearly ready to crown Jesus their saviour. And you really can’t blame the people for thinking Jesus might be all in with them. Jesus comes into Jerusalem riding a donkey. And while we might think this doesn’t seem particularly ‘kingly.’ In Biblical times, kings would in fact ride donkeys. Horses were for going to war. But when a king came in peace, he would ride on a donkey.

So it’s no wonder the crowd is amped up. They are ready for Jesus to be the changemaker they’ve been waiting for. Little do they know in this moment that the changemaking Jesus brings will include him dying before the week is out. But even in this moment of celebration and excitement, for those who have ears to hear, Jesus is clear about what will come in the days ahead.

He tells us, “I assure you that unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it can only be a single seed. But if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their lives will lose them, and those who hate their lives in this world will keep them forever.”

I think we can relate to the people’s desire for a saviour. That longing for a hero who will defeat the bad guys and make the world right. Someone who will bring justice and peace. This is a longing that has been told and re-told in stories throughout human history. In our time we see this story told in movies. Think Superman, the Avengers, Luke Skywalker, even James Bond. Who doesn’t love to see a story where the bad guys get what’s coming to them!

The thing about action movie heroes – when you break it down, the heroes and the villains often behave a lot alike. They both often use violence or questionable means further their cause. Often the only difference is that we’re more forgiving with the heroes because they’re on the “right” side. As long as the heroes win in the end, as long as they are victorious, we’re kind of willing to look past how they get there.

You don’t need me to tell you that the world can be a pretty grim place some days. The need for justice, peace, fairness; for everyone to have what they need; for people to be able to live freely – the need is urgent. And in this urgency, we can struggle to imagine a way to achieve these things without violence or conflict.

The people who greet Jesus with palm leaves and shouts of Hosanna want a leader who can take back power from the Roman Empire. Instead, they get a man who refuses to return hate with hate or violence with violence. Instead, they get a man who refuses to condemn or speak badly against the people who arrest and persecute him. Instead, they get a man who refuses to play by the empire’s rules and so he’s killed. Jesus is their king – and he embodies this kingship in exactly the way he knew was needed; but Jesus isn’t the king that they wanted.

Today, as we waved palms and sang hosannas we too proclaimed Jesus as our king. But we also need to ask ourselves, is Jesus the king that we want? The honest answer is probably not always. If we want someone who will beat up the bad guys, make the world right, and look good doing it than Jesus is most certainly not our guy. Jesus is our not our knight in shining armour who will lay waste to all the bad guys.

Instead, Jesus is our suffering servant. Because in Jesus (rather than battling the forces of evil in this world on their terms), in Jesus, God enters into the suffering of this world. In Jesus, God shares in this suffering and pain and violence and death; and in the end, God makes a new way – exchanging suffering for joy, pain for wholeness, violence for peace, and death for life.

Jesus may not always be the king that we want, but he is the king we need. Because the truth is, we need someone who breaks the cycle of violence. We need someone who takes away the power of hate by refusing to engage in hate. We need a god who shares in the suffering of this world. We need someone who shows the world another way.

As we enter Holy Week, God’s victory looks a lot like defeat. God’s power looks a lot like weakness. Jesus is going to die a painful death. But that is not the end of the story. There will be so much life that comes out of this senseless death. And this is God’s promise to us: that even when it seems like evil and death and sin are winning, these things do not, and will not ever, have the last word. May it be so. AMEN

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Sunday March 22, 2026
Fifth Sunday in Lent

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/fGTmlo51BHI

Sermon for the 5th Sunday in Lent
Sunday, March 22, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 19:1-16a
As Jesus is arrested and put on trial we have Pilate and the Jewish authorities caught up in a political game. There is a power struggle going on here, and Jesus is caught right in the middle. The religious leaders want Jesus put to death and Pilate wants nothing to do with any of it. And we might wonder, how did we get here? How did we get to this moment where an innocent man’s life is on the line? To answer that question, it helps to take a moment to understand a few things about the political climate of Jesus’ time.

This is the time and place of the Roman Empire, with a very powerful Emperor in Rome who exerted his power throughout the empire through leaders like Pilate (the local governor in Judea). These local leaders like Pilate helped maintain order and control, made sure taxes kept flowing towards Rome, and ensured that trade could happen easily and smoothly.

For the most part, the Roman Empire didn’t spend time or energy trying to change the local customs of people. They didn’t care what religions were practiced throughout the empire, as long as the people paid their taxes and gave their allegiance to the emperor. This meant that in every part of the Roman Empire, as long as “peace” was maintained (and to be clear, that meant peace achieved through military presence and the threat of military force) people were free to carry on with their local customs.

And so in Judea, you have the Jews trying to live their lives as best they can within this system. There were many who wanted to rebel against the Empire; who wanted to take back power and control over their own nation. Many who didn’t want to worship the emperor as a god, because they believed this was in direct conflict with their faith. This resistance is what frightened the Jewish religious leaders.

And they had good reason to be afraid; the Romans were merciless and cruel when they wanted to show their dominance. When Jesus was just a child there was an uprising in his home province of Galilee and the Roman army was called in. They quashed the uprising by destroying a city near Nazareth, crucifying 2000 Jews. This is why the religious authorities were so worried. They knew that there was a delicate balance to be maintained, appeasing the Romans so they could continue observing their own religious customs. The priests thought it was best if they all just kept under the radar.

So it makes sense why Jesus frightened them. People got excited about this man. Large crowds would gather to hear him talk about this new kind of kingdom, about being the Son of God, about this promise of a new life. All things that have a bit of a political edge to them; things that Rome might consider threats. The religious leaders were worried, and rightly so, that if Jesus’ following continued to grow Rome will crack down on all of Judea – which would just make life more unbearable than it already was for everyone. And so they’ve made a difficult decision; a compromise where they’ve come to believe that “it is better to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.”

How often have we witnessed leaders in our own time make similar decisions? Leaders who are unwilling to do the right thing because the right thing is not advantageous for them personally – because it might not get them re-elected; or because the right thing is a really hard thing to do.

I think of some of the most pressing issues of our day – like climate change or healthcare or housing. These are complex issues that require long-term planning and solutions. That require solutions that can be costly or disruptive in the short-term. So often, political leaders respond instead with watered down policies or band-aid solutions that won’t rock the boat, but also don’t bring about the kind of change that is needed to address these big issues.

Or I think of our neighbours to the south and the refusal to implement any kind of firearms reform, no matter how many innocent lives are lost to gun violence.

And we are also blessed with leaders who show us what courageous leadership looks like. Just this morning I was reading an interview with David Suzuki, the famed Canadian environmentalist who will turn 90 on Tuesday. In this interview, Suzuki speaks about the formative influence of his father, and in particular the lesson of standing firmly behind one’s beliefs, even in a polarized society.

“He recalls running for student president while in high school and giving what he now describes as a cautious ‘namby-pamby’ answer in a newspaper interview. When his father later read the story, he objected immediately. Suzuki says he tried to explain that he didn’t want to upset others in the community – a response that only make his father angrier.” Suzuki remembers his father telling him, “If you want to be liked by everybody, then you’re not going to stand for a goddamn thing.”1

There are always tough decisions to be made in life – in our personal lives and as a society. And there will always come times when we are called to take a stand that will be unpopular with some; to take a stand that may not be in our personal best interest but is in the best interest of others; to take a stand that might even put us in harm’s way.

Under threat of violence and even death, Jesus stands firm and does not bend to fear. Even though he knows what lies ahead of him, he is absolutely unwilling to fight violence with violence; to face hate with more hate. And because Jesus is unwilling to compromise, he is killed. Jesus dies because he is committed to loving his own until the end. Jesus dies because he isn’t willing to compromise with a broken system.

It’s a hard place to end the story this morning. Jesus will be crucified. But in his refusal to compromise; in his refusal to cooperate with the violence and fear that’s all around him; Jesus succeeds in doing something that is truly life-changing for all of us.

He is faithful to the end; and his faithfulness is for us when we fall short of being faithful.

He is strong to the end; and his strength is for us when we can’t be strong in the face of injustice.

He loves us to the end; and his love is for all of us when we fail to make love and concern for the welfare of others our highest priority.

We hope that we will never be called upon to put our lives on the line for the sake of another. And yet, our integrity is on the line every time we witness an injustice happen. For us, the biggest threat to following Jesus isn’t that we will fall short at times; the danger is in not trying at all.

Because what we need for living in these days is courage. Courage to do what is right, even when it’s difficult or risky. Courage to stand by and live out our values, even when it’s not the popular thing to do. Today, and every day, as we live as God’s people in this world, a world that Jesus loved to the very end, may God give us strength and courage to follow in Jesus’ way. The way of self-giving love and compassion for this whole world. AMEN

1 https://www.cbc.ca/radio/sunday/david-suzuki-memoir-life-birthday-climate-change-9.7136044

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Sunday March 15, 2026
Fourth Sunday in Lent

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/ZePIJ4D0gW8

Sermon for the 4th Sunday in Lent
Sunday March 15, 2026
Preached at St. Peter’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Guest Pastor The Rev. Monika Wiesner

John 18:28-40 “Jesus Before Pilate”
As we all know, Jesus taught more about the “kingdom of God” than anything else.  The kingdom of God that is right here, right now.  This was God’s dream for the world … and Jesus told parable after parable, painting word pictures of what that world would look like.

We also know that Jesus practiced active, non-violent resistance.  He was not a pacifist that threw up his arms helplessly and did nothing.  He didn’t leave the hierarchy unchallenged!  He challenged the power imbalance that kept his people downtrodden.  He spoke out against Roman oppression and the economic injustices of his day.  He challenged the religious leaders time and time again.   He led a demonstration in Jerusalem that ultimately cost him his life … and we’ll hear about that in the next couple of weeks.  But he was never violent.  He was, as Mahatma Gandhi said centuries later, the most non-violent person in human history.

So in this morning’s gospel reading, we see Jesus standing before Pilate, the governor of Judea that served the Roman Imperial Empire.  Pilate, who represented military power, no doubt surrounded by many of his soldiers in this scene.  Pilate, who represented the economic power through a crippling taxation system that ensured the rich stayed rich … and the poor stayed poor.  Pilate, who represented judicial power … the one that could now speak judgement over Jesus in any way he wished and suffer no consequences himself. 

Over the years, we’ve been taught to hear this story of Jesus being interrogated by Pilate as a story of an individual being sentenced to death.  Jesus is condemned to die, to be executed (to say it more accurately). 

But this story is so much bigger than that!  In this morning’s gospel story, the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Empire come face to face.  And alongside the massive political power of Empire, you now have the religious leaders (like Caiaphas) collaborating with Empire for their own self-interest.   And we know that this has been – and still is – the way of the world ever since.   In fact, right now you’ll see and hear it in the daily news.

Let’s take a look at some of the highlights in this morning’s gospel story.

Jesus’ appearance before Pilate takes place in the “headquarter”, or the praetorium, adjacent to the Jerusalem Temple.  Picture Jesus standing there by himself, surrounded by these massive emblems of power.  And it’s right here that Pilate now asks Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?”   Jesus responds with a counter-question but Pilate’s not interested in any discussion.  All he wants to know is whether Jesus will be a political threat to him.  Is Jesus a threat to the Empire’s authority? 

Jesus’ response to Pilate is that great teaching moment when he says, “My kingdom is not of this world.  My kingdom is not from here.”  Jesus is, of course, talking about the reign of God here on earth … the reign of God in and around and among us.  He’s saying, “My kingdom is not from this world but is, instead, committed to transforming the world!”[1]

Remarkably, Jesus offers his teaching of Truth to Pilate.  What is Truth?  The question just dangles there.  It’s lost on Pilate … it sails right over his head.  Jesus’ kingdom is so radically different from Pilate’s.  But remember, it’s also where our strength lies – today – as we listen to dreadful news of our own “empires” wreaking havoc in the world.  Jesus spoke truth to power … and that costs.  But empires don’t last.  No empire since the dawn of civilization has ever survived; all have died out.  But the kingdom of God will live into eternity … because it is God’s dream for all of us.  Love and caring for others; dismantling unjust systems.  Feeding the hungry, yes, but then moving beyond that to create just systems that will eradicate poverty and global food insecurity!  ‘Turning our swords into plowshares’[2], as the wise prophets of old told their people – meaning ‘turn your weapons of war into instruments that feed’.   The prophet Micah goes on to say, “Nation shall not lift up sword against nations; neither shall they learn war anymore.”  Imagine if the global defense budgets were used to feed each country’s impoverished citizens!

Now here’s where the story can touch us deeply.  Where what I call the “squirm factor” kicks in.   A man named Barabbas enters the story.  Supposedly there was a custom at the time that decreed that on Passover, the people could choose which criminal they wanted released from prison. 

Let’s look closely at the name of Barabbas.  Let’s split it in two.  “Bar” means “son of”.  Remember Blind Bartimaeus?  Bar … son of … Timaeus … Timothy.  Bartimaeus means “son of Timothy”.   Now we have “Bar – abbas”.  From where do we know the word “abba”?   Isn’t that what Jesus called God in prayer – his “abba”, meaning his Father?   So “Bar – abbas” … means “son of the father”.   Both men are portrayed as “son of the father”.    And the crowd gets to choose which one will go free … and which one will die.

People of St. Peter’s, this is the showdown that takes place in our world each and every day.  This story is as relevant for us today as it was when Jesus was standing in front of Pilate.   And it all comes down to this – Which “son of the father” will we choose?   Do we choose the one that represents Empire – a world we are all steeped in and from which we profit immensely – or the one that invites us to create a world of justice and peace for everyone – and not just a chosen few?  “God’s dream for the world.”  The endless wars of Empire … or a lifetime of true peace … no more weapons, no more violence, no more war?   And no more children going to bed hungry at night.  And all people feeling safe.   And all people feeling safe and loved. 

It’s all right here in today’s gospel reading.   And we know how the crowd chose that day. 

Friends, pray with this story.  Pray with it every time you listen to or read the evening news.   May we all choose wisely!     

Amen

[1] Allen, J and Williamson, C., Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, 2004, pg 166
[2] Micah 4:3 NRSVUE

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Sunday March 8, 2026
Third Sunday in Lent

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/ldiZCDKIL3E

Sermon for the 3rd Sunday in Lent
Sunday, March 8, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 18:12-27
It’s hard not to feel disappointed with Peter. Peter, who has been Jesus’ right-hand man for most of this journey. Peter, who in this moment, when it really counts, when the rubber hits the road, completely chickens out. Three times Peter has a chance to stand with Jesus. And not once, but three times, he just can’t muster the courage to be honest about who he really is. He can’t muster the courage to stand in solidarity alongside with his courageous and faithful friend and teacher.

It’s hard not to feel judgement towards Peter. But if I’m honest with myself, the disappointment I feel isn’t just disappointment in Peter. It’s disappointment in what his denial of Jesus reveals about me. Because I’m pretty sure if it had been me instead of Peter standing outside the gate or warming my hands around the fire in the presence of those who were going after Jesus, I might easily have done the exact same thing. I understand Peter’s fear about connecting himself to Jesus. And especially the first time. What’s one little white lie? But of course, that’s the thing about a lie. To keep it up you have to tell another lie, and another one. And before you know it, you’re deep in a hole you never intended to dig.

The fact is, it’s not easy to have what we believe and what we do line up all of the time. Especially when the consequences of doing the right thing are risky. All along Peter would have known that Jesus getting arrested was likely to happen, and yet he wasn’t prepared for what it would really mean. But then again, how do you prepare yourself for something like that?

In life we get thrown into situations that we don’t always know how to deal with. We have to face situations that we never expected would happen to us. And sometimes we get put into situations where it doesn’t feel safe to say what we really want to say. And so, in those moments when we just have to react we don’t always say the right thing. Often, like Peter, we find ourselves reacting in ways that we later regret. There are times when we too stay silent or go along with the crowd because we don’t want to make ourselves a target.

Peter never imagined he would deny Jesus. He even says so when Jesus predicts that he’ll do just that. And yet, when that moment comes, his fear gets the better of him. Perhaps even without thinking about it he reacts and just says what comes easiest – “I don’t know that man.”

All the while that Peter is denying Jesus, it’s important to notice that there is another story happening at the same time. In the one storyline we have Peter denying he knows Jesus. In the other, is Jesus himself, standing firm in who he knows he is even when he understands the risks of doing this. In contrast to Peter, Jesus is a pillar. He is a model of faithfulness that only accentuates Peter’s own selfish and fearful unfaithfulness. Jesus never once bends to fear. He remains confident in his mission to show the world what true love is. He remains steadfast in his purpose to show the world what undying love looks like.

Our story ends on a pretty low note for Peter. After he denies being with Jesus for the third time, the cock crows – just as Jesus had said it would – and I’m sure that in that moment Peter was completely and utterly ashamed of himself. Wishing anything that he could just have a do-over; anything for another chance to do the right thing.

There are a lot of times in our lives when we say or do things that we later regret; or when we regret not saying what we really wanted to say. There are times when we stay silent or go along with the crowd because we don’t want to make ourselves a target. Because we know that saying what we really want to say makes us vulnerable.

Or because we know that saying what we feel called to say will start a debate that we don’t really want to get into – something that feels especially fraught in these days of political division.

It’s also important to acknowledge that if we have a choice to speak out or stay silent, that this is a privilege. Our responsibility as disciples is to stand with those who are on trial – those who are demeaned or discriminated against because of the colour of their skin, or where they were born, or who they love, or any other perceived lack or deficiency so defined by society. It is a difficult calling, but the reason we are disappointed in Peter is because we know that speaking up in the face of injustice is what Jesus asks us to do.

Our text today ends on a low note for Peter. But this is not where Peter’s story ends – thanks be to God! There’s a beautiful moment that comes at the very end of John’s gospel that speaks a word of hope into this bleak and devastating moment.

In John’s final chapter, Jesus has already been crucified and risen from the dead, when he appears to his disciples for a third time. This time on the beach while the disciples are fishing on the Sea of Tiberias. Peter is there, and he and Jesus have a conversation that mirrors his three-time denial. On the beach, over breakfast Jesus asks Peter 3 times – do you love me? And three times, Peter has a chance to answer again – Yes Lord, you know that I love you. It’s a powerful testimony to God’s mercy, grace and forgiveness. Peter gets not just one chance, but three chances to say what he couldn’t say the last time.

The painful reality about being human is that we won’t always act or speak in ways that are loving, kind, compassionate, or truthful. But we can take heart in the promise that in Christ there is already forgiveness for us if we have hurt someone with our words or actions. In Christ there is more than enough faithfulness and courage to help us say what needs to be said, and do what needs to be done. Peter’s denial, Christ’s faithfulness, and Peter’s second chance is an invitation to us to try again.

We can’t take back words that have already been said. We can’t take back things that we’ve already done. But we can learn from our missteps. We can choose to respond differently the next time. We can apologize and ask for forgiveness if we need to, and try again, knowing that God isn’t finished with any of us, and that God gives us new chances to do the right thing; to make things right.

Sometimes those second chances will come to us, giving us another opportunity to say or do what we wished we had said or done the first time. Sometimes though, perhaps often, it’s up to us to make those second chances happen – to take the first step and say or do what we wish we had said or done the first time.

And it’s always up to us to speak up when we see injustice happening, knowing that we won’t always do it well or often enough, but that Jesus calls us to share in one another’s burdens. We are all connected in this earth community. The wellbeing of our neighbours is directly connected to our own wellbeing.

May Peter’s second chance be that invitation to keep speaking truth in love, no matter how many times you fall short and need another chance. And may the knowledge of Christ’s faithfulness and forgiveness give you the guidance and courage you need to do just that.

AMEN

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Sunday March 1, 2026
Second Sunday in Lent

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/zN0jK8LeGK4

Sermon for Second Sunday in Lent
Sunday March 1, 2026
Preached at St. Peter’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Written and Preached by Lay Worship Leader Lorre Calder

John 13:1-17
After listening to today’s gospel reading, it would be natural for you to look at your calendar and think that today might actually be April 2nd and not March 1st. This text usually shows up for us on Maundy Thursday, but using the Narrative Lectionary, it shows up today. Over the next few Sundays we will walk with Jesus through the last few days of his life. We begin that journey just before the Passover feast when Jesus knew that his time was short. A lot would be happening in a short amount of time and Jesus still had much to teach those closest to him.

In Jesus’ time, as we have all learned over the years, washing the feet of guests was an important gesture of hospitality. The person might wash their own feet having been given a basin, towel, and some water, but it was often done by the slaves in the household. Never by the host. But here he is, stripped down to his waist, wearing a towel, with a basin, water, washing the feet of his disciples and drying them with the towel he was wearing.

We know Peter’s reaction. His master, his teacher was NOT going to wash his feet. I’m sure in his mind this whole scenario felt just…wrong. He may have felt that one of the disciples should be washing Jesus’ feet and not the other way around. But Jesus is gentle and explains that it has to be this way or Peter won’t be able to be part of the rest of the journey. Peter, in his ‘understated’ way, then tells Jesus to wash all of him, because he wants to follow and be part of whatever it is that Jesus is doing. Jesus again has to explain that a full-on shower is not the point of the exercise. The Message version of this passage adds the line, ‘My concern, you understand, is holiness, not hygiene’.

In reading this passage, I have come to understand that this story is about so much more than water and towels. This is a story about humility, as I see it. Both for Jesus as the one who disrobes for the task and kneels down to wash at least a dozen pairs of dirty feet, but also for the disciples who receive this gesture, and gift, of washing. I can’t imagine the disciples not being extremely humbled by their master and teacher performing this intimate ritual for each one of them.

How many of you remember and watched the television series, ‘Touched by an Angel’? It ran from 1994-2003. The series centred on a couple of angels sent by God to help people to remember, or learn, that God loved them. The angels didn’t solve the problems of the people they were sent to help, but instead they helped them to solve their own problems with the knowledge that with God they were never alone and with God, they could face anything. Sometimes that meant facing the consequences of previous bad actions, sometimes it meant repairing relationships, sometimes it meant building community among neighbours or strangers, and sometimes it meant restoring their faith, in God and in themselves. What I loved about it was that the message was non-denominational, crossed religious barriers, and it was simple…God loves you.

In season one episode ten, the angel trainee named Monica, was getting a little too big for her wings, so she is sent to live among the street people in the particular city the story occurs. Her ‘assignment’ is a fellow named Pete who is living in his broken down van after falling on hard times through a series of tragic events. His wife lost her job and ultimately her health care during a downturn in the economy. Pete’s wife develops cancer and when Pete loses his contracting business when he stays home to care for his wife, they blow through their savings. She eventually passes away and he undertakes a journey to Colorado to spread her ashes in a place they had both longed to travel. So here he is, living in his van, combing through dumpsters for things he can use, and is always looking for a better pair of shoes than the ones he wears on his cold, wet, bleeding feet.

Monica’s assignment is to help him, to remind him that God loves him, and that he is a worthy, loved human being. By getting to know him, as well as the circle of friends who help each other out from time to time, Monica begins to see that she is an angel sent from God, but she is no better than the people who live in shelters, frequent food banks, and street missions, and who carry around everything they own in shopping carts and duffel bags. Monica is at a loss as to finding a way to help Pete because he says he doesn’t want or need her help. He’s not a bum. His world comes crashing down when his van is towed and his wife’s ashes were stolen, and at that point, Pete feels he has nothing left to live for. Pete, who is also a recovering alcoholic, dives into a bottle and pretty much gives up. Monica’s supervisor, Tess, tells her, that her job isn’t finished and she still has to help him and make him realize that despite all the bad things that have happened to him, God loves him. Then, she takes a basin and a towel, she kneels down and washes his feet. She reaches out in humility and asks his forgiveness for not truly seeing him as a valued person in her heart, despite knowing it in her head.

I remember this episode clearly from the first time I watched it and was deeply moved by the humility that Monica finally realizes in how she sees Pete, and by the humility of Pete in letting her minister to him in such an intimate and loving way. The episode ends with Pete getting back on his feet, getting back on the wagon, and finally making it to Colorado. A happy-ish ending, this being television and all, but Pete’s wife is still gone, he still doesn’t have a job, and he’s going to have to do the hard work of staying sober. But what he has now that he didn’t have before is the deep…soul deep knowledge that God loves him and that he is a good person worthy of love. The journey ahead might be hard, but now he knows that God walks with him.

I know that a television episode cannot quite compare to what Jesus was trying to teach the disciples, but maybe it can point us back to it. Humility in giving and in receiving. We can control the first, but not necessarily the last.

Can you sleep when your feet are cold? Are you comfortable when you have to walk around in wet socks and shoes all day? If my feet are cold, I can’t get to sleep. And I can tell you my whole body feels miserable if I have to walk around in wet socks and shoes all day. This gospel passage takes place after Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. People waved branches and laid their cloaks in his path as he rode on the donkey. This year again we have an opportunity to do a couple of things when Holy Week arrives at the end of the month. Of course, we can celebrate that triumphal entry with whatever worship bells and whistles are being planned for that service. And, we will be collecting textiles…socks, underwear, t-shirts which will be taken to The Bridges to be given to whoever needs them. For someone living on the streets, and knowing our own discomfort when we have to go around in cold, wet, or dirty clothing, we need to ask ourselves in all humility, how generous can we be in our offering of the requested clothing items?

As we look more closely at the gospel from this morning, it is not specifically mentioned that Jesus washed the feet of the other disciples, but with the word being plural, disciples, we just assume that he did. As I have told you before, I am not a pastor and I am not a theologian, but I believe he would have demonstrated this humility to all his friends gathered around that night. So, to my humble understanding of this gospel reading, Jesus washed the feet of Judas, who ultimately betrayed him. We know that Jesus washed the feet of Peter, who would go on to deny him three times. He washed the feet of the other disciples despite them all fleeing from Jesus in fear of the Roman soldiers. He washed the feet of the disciple who would go on to commit a spontaneous act of violence by cutting off the ear of the servant of the high priest. Some texts identify this person as Peter, while others just say, ‘one of the disciples’.

The point is, Jesus humbled himself and didn’t withhold his outreach based on what these fellows would or wouldn’t do in the future. We also cannot control the response of the recipients of any of our outreach efforts, whether it is donations to the food bank, the offering of warm hats and mitts, or the gifting of new, warm, clean textiles to unhoused or under-housed people who need them. Maybe they use them, maybe they sell them. It isn’t our job to judge them. Our job is to reach out in love and humility to everyone as Jesus has shown us. We are no better than they are, and they are no less loved by God and Jesus than we are. We are all beloved children of God.

I am not saying that we need to go outside and offer to wash the feet of the people who sleep in our garden or in the doorways of the buildings up and down the street. But, we can offer food, clothing, toiletries, and yes, maybe even a few bucks without judgement as to what they end up doing with it.

Our gospel lesson today ends with this: ‘After he washed the disciples’ feet, he put on his robes and returned to his place at the table. He said to them, “Do you know what I’ve done for you? You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and you speak correctly, because I am. If I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, you too must wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example: Just as I have done, you also must do. I assure you, servants aren’t greater than their master, nor are those who are sent greater than the one who sent them. Since you know these things, you will be happy if you do them.’

Jesus has told us. Jesus has shown us. Now it is our turn to wrap the towel around our own waists, roll up our sleeves and become humble in whatever ways we can to those who are our neighbours.

Amen

Touched By an Angel: Season 1, Episode 10, ‘There But for the Grace of God; Airdate: February 25, 1995 CBS

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Sunday February 22, 2026
First Sunday in Lent

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/iXDK_rgmQIY

Sermon for the 1st Sunday in Lent
Sunday, February 22, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 11:1-44
If you were to ask me what my favourite story from the gospels is, this one would rank right near the top. One of the reasons I love it so much; why I find it so powerful; has to do with just one little sentence. Where we hear that when Jesus arrives in Bethany, greeted by grieving and angry sisters Martha and Mary, John tells us that “Jesus began to weep.”

In the gospels, Jesus does so many amazing things. He performs miracles and mighty deeds. We speak about him as Son of God and Savior and Lord. The fact he was also human can sometimes get lost. This story reminds us again that Jesus, in spite of his powers to bring the dead back to life, was also so very human, like us. Because just like us, the gospels tell us that Jesus got hungry and he liked to have a good time; Jesus loved deeply and raged loudly at times Jesus knew what it feels like to face temptation; Jesus laughed and loved spending time with his friends; and he cried when his friend Lazarus died.

And what is truly powerful about this image is that in this moment, Jesus isn’t only crying for his friend. Jesus is crying for all the pain and hurt in the world. Jesus is standing with us, and weeping in the face of all human pain, suffering, and death.

Jesus weeps for all the Lazaruses in our world. For all the people who end up entombed and hidden away because they feel they can’t be who were created to be or because the world won’t let them be who they were created to be. Jesus weeps for all the people who keep a part of themselves hidden away for fear (both real and imagined) of how others might treat them if they were reveal that part of themselves.

Jesus weeps for all the women in our world who have been taught to act like they have it all together. Who are afraid to admit when they’re struggling; that it’s actually not possible to do it all and do it perfectly.

Jesus weeps for all the men who are taught from the youngest age that to be a man means to be tough no matter what; that to be a man means to not show any sign weakness or emotions like sadness or fear. Who learn to bury those emotions down deep after being bullied, or made fun of.

Jesus weeps for the gay and lesbian and transgender kids who are too afraid to come out because they fear they won’t be accepted. Who’ve already been bullied or shamed for being different. Whose families and friends have made derogatory comments about gay people. And who try to ignore that part of themselves; to bury it down deep; hoping it might just disappear.

Jesus weeps for every person who has hidden away a passion or a dream because they were told it was silly or stupid; or that they were no good at it. Jesus weeps for all those who are afraid be their true selves, whatever the reason may be.

But what is really powerful is that in this moment, standing outside his friend Lazarus’ tomb, Jesus does more than just weep. Jesus does more than send his thoughts and prayers to Mary and Martha. No, Jesus doesn’t just weep – he does something about it. Jesus has promised Martha that her brother will rise again; so Jesus calls Lazarus out of the tomb. And out walks Lazarus, his body still wrapped and bound with strips of cloth. But alive!

Whether these events actually happened, or this is simply a story – it teaches a powerful truth. Jesus is telling us that resurrection isn’t just for after we die. Resurrection, or eternal life we sometimes call it, is about being free to be our fullest and truest selves here and now, as God has created us to be. It’s about being unbound – being freed – from the fears that hold us back. "I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” As we have seen over the last few weeks, Jesus’ ministry in the Gospel of John is all about calling people forward into a new way of living. Into a way of whole hearted living.

Like the Samaritan woman at the well. In the first moments of their conversation, Jesus tells her everything she’s ever done. He names her pain, her brokenness, her hurts, and in doing so releases her from what was holding her back; what was keeping her down. His knowing and naming of her pain calls her forward into wholehearted living, and she becomes an evangelist – spreading the good news of Jesus Christ to all her neighbours and friends.

And like the man who was born blind. Jesus gives him his sight, opening up so many new possibilities for his future. And when his community can’t deal with his new gift, and they reject him, Jesus again invites him into his fold, which the blind man eagerly accepts. Excited to live with his whole heart for Jesus’ way of truth and love.

And now with Lazarus. Jesus raises him from the dead, and literally gives him a second chance at life. Which is what Jesus also promises for us. Jesus calls each one of us to come out, and step into a new way of living; a way of whole hearted living. Eternal life, abundant life, is not just for when we die. It’s for this life, right here, right now.

On a personal level, this is an invitation to let go and push off those things that bind us from being our fullest and truest selves. Knowing that wholehearted and abundant living isn’t the same thing as easy or pain-free living. Knowing that when we make the choice to be our truest and fullest selves – the self that God has created us to be – it might make others uncomfortable; we might encounter resistance and fear when we choose to be vulnerable. And yet Jesus promises we will also know deep joy and peace when we choose to no longer hide our gifts and our weaknesses; our truest selves.

Jesus’ invitation to abundant life is also about offering space for people to express and be their deepest and truest selves. Offering space where people are actually embraced for being their truest self. Individually, this is a call to be the kind of person someone can confide in. To be a person who models Jesus’ way of unconditional love and non-judgment (not about behavior that hurts others, but non-judgment when it comes to who people are).

And as a congregation, to strive to do the same. We as a community exist because we have heard Jesus’ call in our lives and want to have a piece of what Jesus has to offer. We want the abundant life; the joy, the peace, the love that Jesus offers. How do we translate that call to wholehearted living into our actions? How do we be a space where people truly feel that it’s ok to be who God created them to be? A place where it’s ok to show emotion, to be vulnerable. A place where it’s ok to mess up or make a mistake. A place where everyone can share their God-given gifts.

We won’t always do it perfectly, but we strive to do this by living more fully into our statement of welcome: “Here at St. Peter's Evangelical Lutheran Church, Cambridge, all are truly welcome. We welcome all who Jesus would welcome: this means Everyone. Regardless of who you are or how you are, YOU are welcome here. We affirm and bless loving relationships, and ordination of those called by the Holy Spirit, regardless of sexual orientation, race, colour, social standing, or other factors that might cause prejudice beyond our walls.”

May you hear again this morning Jesus’ promise that you are his beloved child. And may we keep on asking ourselves how we can share this important promise with all people. The promise that Christ is the one who has been sent “to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.” So that we might all be freed and unbound to step out of the tombs that entrap us, and step into Christ’s gift of abundant, eternal, and wholehearted life that is for everyone. May it be so. AMEN

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Wednesday February 18, 2026
Ash Wednesday

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/GnciKd-ZXSA

Sermon for Ash Wednesday
Wednesday, February 18, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

The Good Shepherd John 10:1-18
The image of Jesus as our Good Shepherd is a familiar and comforting one. It’s an image that we are perhaps most familiar with from Psalm 23 – The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…. This well-loved psalm speaks about God’s providence and presence with us through all of life’s ups and downs.

So the shepherd isn’t an image that Jesus came up with on his own, but he certainly puts his own spin on it. He captures the same sense of beauty and hope as he speaks about caring for and tending to his sheep. But then there’s all this talk about thieves and bandits and wolves. It all seems rather specific – as if Jesus has a particular situation in mind as he’s fleshing out this image. As it turns out, he does. This teaching about the Good Shepherd is actually a continuation of the story that is recounted in chapter 9 – the healing of the man who was born blind.

To make a long story short (because it’s 41 verses long), Jesus heals a man from his blindness, and when the man goes to tell his community, rather than celebrating with him, they give him the third degree and then kick him out. They’ve already decided that they don’t want anything to do with Jesus, and not even a miraculous healing will change that. When Jesus hears about what’s happened, he comes back to find the man; to offer him some support and comfort. He also has some words for the neighbours. He tells them that he has come “so that those who don’t see can see and those see will become blind.”

As they’re wondering aloud whether Jesus is talking about them, he launches into this teaching about the Good Shepherd. In our Bibles it’s a new chapter, but it’s a continuation of the same story. And when you look at it, the Good Shepherd is really just a variation on the same theme.

Both of these readings are about the capacity to recognize and follow Jesus. With the man born blind, it’s about seeing Jesus for who he truly is – the Saviour. With the Good Shepherd, it’s about listening for and recognizing the voice of this Saviour who calls us to follow him. I wonder how do we learn to see Jesus clearly? How do we tune our ears to hear Jesus’ voice?

Today we enter into the season of Lent. A time in the church year to reorient ourselves to God. These forty days, which mirror the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness, are a time to tune our hearts and minds to God’s ways. During this season we are invited to take on a practice or posture that can help us with this reorientation. There are so many things in life and the world that distract us from God. So many sights and sounds that cloud our vision and our hearing. It’s a gift to have this season that invites us to be intentional about turning our attention again to God.

Tonight, as we enter into this season Lent with our Good Shepherd, I wonder how you might hear this story as an invitation to listen for God’s voice in your life, in the world. Is there a particular practice or a posture that would nurture and support this listening?

We live in a busy, noisy world. Many of us live busy, noisy lives. And it’s hard to listen well amidst noise and busyness. I wonder, how might you be able to find or create some spaciousness or stillness in your life? Could that look like setting aside a few minutes each day to journal, or go for a walk, or pray, or simply turn off the TV and be with your thoughts. Time not to do one more thing, but to simply be present with God who is always already here.

It’s also hard to listen if we’re not paying attention. It’s hard to listen if we think we already have it all figured out. Maybe listening looks like reading your Bible. Maybe it means reading a book and being curious about how it connects with your life and faith. Maybe it means choosing to be attentive to the good things – however small – that are also always happening in our lives.

And of course, it’s also important to have some clarity around what exactly are we listening for? How do we know if the “voice” we’re hearing is indeed God’s voice? This is where turning to Scripture and the stories of faith helps. We can always turn to Jesus’ own words to discern whether something is of God, or not. We can turn to our community of faith – the wisdom and insight of those who know us well can help us discern if something is of God.

We can also ask ourselves, is this word I think I’m hearing Love’s way? Spiritual director Nancy Bieber offers this question as one way to determine whether something is of God. She writes, “though I use many names for God, the most important of these is Love. Is a decision loving? Does it arise from a place of love within us?” She also notes that a decision arising from love isn’t necessarily soft or easy – like the decision of parents to stop supporting an adult child struggling with an addiction.1 Learning to listen for God’s voice is important because this is how we make decisions. This is how we learn to follow in Jesus’ way, which is not always an easy path.

Did you notice that the sheep don’t stay in the safety of the sheepfold? They are free to come and go. And in fact, it seems that Jesus expects them to come and go. If they only stayed in the sheepfold, although they might be safe, they would quickly run out of food. They need to venture out to pasture for grazing. With our Good Shepherd we aren’t promised safety. But we are promised that Jesus goes with us, for he tells us, the shepherd calls his sheep by name, and leads them out.

We may not be promised safety, but we are promised that Jesus is always with us, even when times get tough, and they will get tough. Jesus alludes to this in this teaching too. There will come a time when he lays down his life for the sheep. This is perhaps the most “Ash Wednesday” and Lenten part of this text. For we too, who are gathered here tonight, already know where all of this is heading over these next 40 days. We are aware of the dark valley that lays ahead for Jesus and his disciples. And yet, we commit to following in his way even knowing where it leads. Knowing that the hardest part will not be the end of the story, but not skipping over the difficult part either.

As we enter this night into the season of Lent – this time of reorienting ourselves to God; of trusting that God goes with us, even and especially to those difficult places, may Jesus, our Good Shepherd, give us ears to listen and hearts willing to follow, that we may love and care for this world as deeply as he does. May it be so. Amen.

1 Nancy L. Bieber, Decision Making & Spiritual Discernment: The Sacred Art of Finding Your Way, page 124.

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Sunday February 15, 2026
Transfiguration of Our Lord

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/ZltYr5nzewY

Sermon for Transfiguration of Our Lord
Sunday, February 15, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 9:1-41 – The Man Born Blind
All of the gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – each have their own stories of blind men receiving their sight because of Jesus’ miraculous powers. But there are some big differences in how these healings take place. In one case, the healing comes with simply a touch from Jesus. In another case, Jesus doesn’t touch the man, but simply speaks. For another, Jesus not only touches him twice, but also "spits on his eyes" for him to see clearly.

And then there’s John’s story of this man who was born blind (another nameless character – like the woman at the well – who plays an important part in this story). In this version of a healing story, Jesus mixes his saliva with dirt, puts the mud on the man’s eyes, and then tells him to go and wash in a pool of water.

John’s version is unique as far as healing stories go, and not just because of the saliva/mud thing. One other thing that sets this story apart from the others is that this man never comes to Jesus asking to be healed. Instead, he finds himself being made the example in a theological debate between the disciples and Jesus.

In the first part of this story, the man born bind is very much just a passive character – we don’t get any indication whether he’s upset or excited. We tend to assume that the man wanted to be healed, but that assumption comes more from our biases about disability than any clues that we get from the story. And assuming that the man had been elated to be able to see, any joy is quickly dampened by the reception he gets back home. What should be a happy story, turns into anything but.

This is a story about a miraculous healing, and yet it’s really more appropriate to call an “interrogation after the healing” story. Because if you notice, the actual healing only takes up 7 of the 41 verses we just heard. The bulk of the story is all the interrogations and questions that follow. When the man returns to his home to share his news with everyone: that miraculously he can now see, you’d think his community would respond with awe and wonder. Instead, they give him the third degree, peppering him with questions about what happened, who did it, and why.

His neighbours, not satisfied with his answers, then take him to the religious leaders who question him some more. And when they don’t believe the man’s story either they question his parents. Thankfully the parents remind the religious leaders that although their son may have been blind, he’s not mute and can speak for himself. And so the religious leaders question the man a second time.

By this point we can see that the man is getting fed up with all the questioning. When the religious leaders call Jesus a sinner and insinuate that the man is a liar, he reaches his breaking point and gives them a piece of his mind. The resistance of the community has slowly clarified the man’s faith and understanding of who Jesus really is. And in that moment, the man makes a bold statement of faith: proclaiming that Jesus is indeed from God because Jesus opened his eyes. And so, of course, the religious leaders resolve the conflict…by throwing him out. So much for new sight opening doors and a better chapter in this man’s life; he gains his sight and ends up rejected by his community.

Thankfully Jesus, who set this whole series of events into motion, seeks the man out a second time when he hears what has happened. And in that second encounter, Jesus and the man meet again for the first time. Having been unable to see the last time they met, at first the man doesn’t recognize Jesus as the one who gave him his sight. But the minute Jesus re-introduces himself, the man begins to praise him. In spite of all the challenges, frustrations, and pain that this new gift has cost him, his heart has been opened to recognize and accept Jesus as Savior.

Finally, we get to see that Jesus set this whole series of events in motion for a purpose. Jesus tells the man, "I have come into this world to exercise judgment so that those who don’t see can see, and those who do see will become blind."

Jesus is all about calling people forward; calling people to a new way of living; to a life of abundance and love and freedom. Jesus gave the blind man his sight so that God’s glory might be revealed not only to the blind man, but to his community as well. Sadly, only the man who was born blind was ready to take that step forward. All the other people in this story stay stuck in the way things were. They’re not willing or able to go forward with this man; to accept his new reality; to accept that Jesus and the life he offers may just be the one thing actually do need.

Now there are certainly many lessons in this story that we can receive on a personal level. But this morning I invite us to think about what lessons this story might offer to us as a community. I think we would probably all agree that we don’t want to follow in the way of the neighbours and religious leaders in this story. Like the man who was born blind, we want to see Jesus clearly. We want to follow him and receive the gifts he has to offer us. And yet, it’s so easy to get caught up in our fears – especially when things are changing around us that we aren’t prepared for or don’t understand. As a community, sometimes things will happen that we don’t know how to deal with or how to respond to. As a community there are times when we have to make difficult decisions; times when we feel as though we’re walking blind (when we don’t have all the information we want or need to make an informed decision).

For us, as it was for his audience back then, Jesus cautions us not to be too confident in ourselves and in our way of doing (or seeing) things. For those who do see, may become blind. But in moments of fear or discomfort or anxiety, Jesus invites us to place our trust in him as we sit with and work through the discomfort. To pray for discernment and direction and the way forward that Jesus promises to provide. Because above all else, the truth that this story teaches is that Jesus has the power to transform us – to change us – to make God’s glory known through us.

For several months now, we’ve been ending our worship by praying together a prayer that asks for God’s guidance. This prayer is a perfect example of the kind of openness and willingness that Jesus desires of his followers. The kind of vision Jesus asks us to foster. I don’t know how much you’ve noticed this prayer or paid attention to its words, but I want us to take a moment to sit with its words right now. It goes like this:

Holy God, Dreamer of dreams,
We are your people; this is your church. We offer our congregation to you. We come seeking your guidance, your purpose, your vision. Align our will with yours. Break through in new ways in our church. Show us the great ministry you have in store for us. Help us dream your dreams. Pour out your Holy Spirit on us, giving us the vision, boldness, and confidence to do all that you call us to do. Amen.

As we speak this prayer each week, we are speaking our desire to be like the man born blind. To have our eyes opened to God’s movements among us and around us. As much as this is a prayer to God, it’s also a weekly reminder to ourselves to trust in God’s guidance and presence that is always with us.

As we make our way through changing times in a changing world, may Christ open our hearts and our minds to follow in his way. The way of that leads to abundant life for all, and especially those who are seen as least by the world. May it be so. AMEN

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Sunday February 8, 2026
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/YSssw9ZzK54

St. Peter’s Lutheran Church
Cambridge, Ontario
Sunday February 8, 2026
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
Rev. Monika Wiesner

John 5:1-9
“A Healing on the Sabbath”
I’ve been to the ruins of what is believed to have been the ancient Pool of Bethesda.   It’s located in what is now the Muslim Quarter in the Old City of Jerusalem.   According to tradition, the Pool was said to have healing powers.   That may not be as far-fetched as it sounds.   There are many such spas in Europe, with the special water having healing effects.   I’ve been to the Sulphur baths in Budapest … and that city alone has a number of spas with thermal baths that come from natural springs containing beneficial minerals.   There is also a tradition attached to this story that an angel came and “troubled the waters”, stirring up the water at regular intervals[1] … and that’s not so far-fetched either.   How many of you have been to Yellowstone Park and have seen the steaming eruptions of the geyser named “Old Faithful”?   Those eruptions happen every 45 minutes or so, if I remember correctly.   Perhaps the indigenous peoples, living in that area centuries ago, also believed that the spirits stirred the geyser to activity.

Today we might say the Pool of Bethesda (meaning “house of mercy” in Hebrew) was an ancient healing spa.

So let’s place ourselves at poolside.  There are a whole lot of people lying around waiting for the waters to be stirred again.   One man, in fact, has been here for 38 years.   Why?   Because he hasn’t been able to be the first one into the pool … and for a miracle to happen in this story, you have to at least get wet!           

Once again, this is a perfect example of how, when we don’t move beyond only a literal interpretation of the story, we will miss a much deeper meaning; we will miss the “nugget of truth” that lies directly beneath the miracle story.  

So … let’s take a look and see if we can’t bring this story into the 21st Century.   Jesus asks this man if he wants to be healed … and then tells him to do three things:  “Stand up!   Pick up your mat … and walk.”   And the man gets up, picks up his mat and walks away.

He never even gets wet!   Did you notice that?    So … this isn’t about the healing water at all!

Now, do you remember the story of Peter raising a young girl, Tabitha, from the dead?[2]  In that miracle story, Peter says to the little girl that had died, “Tabitha, stand up!”   The ancient Arabic word for “resurrection” is translated as “stand up”.   “Tabitha, stand up!   Man at the side of the pool, stand up!”   When we look at this through the lens of symbol and metaphor, we recognize that these miracle stories are about resurrection in this life.  This is not about eternal life … but “new life” in the here and now.  This is about a new consciousness, a new way of being and showing up in the world.   Something about this man was paralyzed and when he responds to Jesus, he’s brought out of his paralysis and he’s able to move forward and get back into life … but in a new and transformed way.  A healing has taken place.   A “resurrection” in the here and now.

This miracle story invites us to ask the question:  In what way – or in what ways – am I paralyzed right now?   Where do I need Jesus’ healing?     Or communally:  In what ways are we as a congregation paralyzed, not able to move forward?   And what would hearing Jesus say, “Stand up!” mean for us? 

This morning’s gospel reading is really two stories in one.  Jesus healed this man on the Sabbath … and it got him into a whole lot of trouble.  You see, in the ancient Jewish world – and even today among Orthodox Jews – all work stops on the Sabbath.   All work.  And “carrying your mat” is considered “work”.  

This is a story of contrasts.

Look at what’s happening here.  Instead of celebrating this man’s healing and putting it on the evening news …isn’t that what you do when a lame person walks again after 38 years … the religious leaders screw up their faces and point out that Jesus is breaking a religious law.   That’s the contrast the gospel writer sets up for us to see – going between the letter of the Law and embracing the spirit of the Law! 

Now we need to be careful here that we don’t slam the religious leaders.    They were really trying to do what was right, as they understood it.  They wanted to faithfully honour the Sabbath … they wanted to be pleasing to God in the best way that they knew how – by following the letter of the Law.   But they couldn’t move from the head to the heart.  They couldn’t bring themselves to feel the tremendous joy that new life in the here and now brings with it.  They can’t bring themselves to say, “Yes!  One of our own has been healed!  What a blessing from God!   Let’s celebrate!”    

I have shared with you before that I used to work at Loyola House, the Jesuit retreat center in Guelph.  At the front door of the retreat center is a bench with an inscription on it, a phrase created by one of the Jesuits that worked there for many years.   The inscription reads: “The longest journey you will ever make is from your head to your heart.” 

That’s what this is all about.  Jesus talks about this over and over again. 

For Jesus, this discourse with the Pharisees was the first overt rejection of him according to John’s gospel.  When Jesus says to the religious leaders, “My Father is still working – and so am I”, he says that even the Sabbath Law does not have the final say about his activity in the world.[3] 

For us, however, this miracle story invites us into a life that allows us to go beyond whatever cripples our spirit … whatever it is that keeps us paralyzed … or frozen … like the man at the side of the pool.   Through Jesus, we are healed into what he calls “life abundant”! 

Jesus can move us beyond all our perceived limitations … and transform us into a new way of being … whether we get wet or not! Amen

[1] Older versions of this gospel story included the angel
[2] Acts of the Apostles 3:1-10
[3] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. IX, page 581

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Sunday February 1, 2026
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/zbWXjUhWG8Q

Sermon for the 4th Sunday after Epiphany
Sunday, February 1, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 4:5-42
The woman at the well. Like so many women in the Bible, we don’t know her name. The only details we know of her life is that she is a Samaritan and that she’s had 5 husbands. A fact that has led many preachers to make assumptions about her character.

The assumption that she’s undoubtedly a sinner – although Jesus never calls her sinful. Sin or sinfulness is not ever mentioned in this story.

The assumption that she’s an outsider in her community, because she comes to well alone at midday. But is it also possible she was just running late this day? That something unexpected came up that got her day off track? If she were such an outcast, would her neighbours have even listened to her testimony about Jesus?

The assumption that she’s a person of questionable morals. The fact that she’s had five husbands sounds scandalous on the surface, and yet Biblical scholars point out that we shouldn’t automatically jump to that conclusion. Given the time and place, it’s entirely possible that she was widowed, divorced or abandoned five times. Which is certainly tragic – one woman with five broken relationships – but not necessarily scandalous. And even if she had been divorced that many times, it wouldn’t have been by her doing. In Jesus’ day, only men had the authority to divorce their partner.

All of this is to say, the only thing we can safely assume about her is that she’s someone who’s experienced a lot of heartbreak in her life. Something we can all too easily relate to. But Jesus sees her. He knows the details of her life; even the difficult and shameful parts; and he embraces her. It’s a promise that we can trust that Jesus sees our lives just as clearly, and Jesus embraces us too, shadows and all!

In all the details about this woman’s life that have been the focus of interpretation about her over the years, there’s another detail about this woman; one I think that we as ELCIC Lutherans often don’t pay as much attention to. And it’s a detail that many of us would likely not be as quick to identify with. And that detail is that in John’s Gospel, the woman at the well is the first evangelist. She’s the first person who goes out of her way, by her own initiative, to tell others how Jesus changed her life.

We Lutherans are not know for our evangelism (a word that means proclaiming the good news). Ironic given the name of our church – Evangelical Church in Canada. In fact, the thought that we might have to actually talk to somebody about our faith, it makes us pretty darn uncomfortable. When we think about evangelism – we get a particular kind of idea in our mind of what that is – and we’re not “those kind of Christians.” The Christians who are most comfortable and most known for proselytising often don’t share the same beliefs – the same theology – the same understanding of God as we do.

If someone were to ask you: where did you see God in your life this week? We probably would struggle to answer that. And that’s a problem. When we don’t have the skill or ability to put our faith into words (and these are skills that can be learned), we risk being lumped in with those who are more vocal but who don’t represent us. Whose views express a God of judgement rather than a God of grace.

When the disciples return to the well, they are shocked to see Jesus engaging with this woman. And probably just as shocked that after she leaves, Jesus lifts her up as an example. According to John scholar Karoline Lewis, in his little speech about fields and harvesting what Jesus is actually saying to this disciples is this: “See what she just did? The fields are ripe for harvesting – and no waiting until the fall. I am only in the world a little longer. “Go and do what she just did.”

Go and do what she just did. And what did she do that was so remarkable? So worthy of emulation? She tells her story; plain and simple. She tells her neighbours about this guy she met at the well. Who, although a complete stranger, knew the details of her life. She is certain he must be the Messiah. Her enthusiasm gets her neighbours curious enough to want to meet this guy too. They run out to the well and after they meet Jesus for themselves, they too believe.

I’m sure many of you are familiar with this quote that is attributed to St Francis of Assisi: “preach the gospel, and when necessary use words.” It’s a quote I loved the minute I heard it for the first time because I thought, I can do that. In fact, I already do that. I’m great at doing that. I’ve now come to feel that this quote maybe doesn’t get it quite right. Or at least not for those of us who just feel affirmed by this quote; for those of us who would really rather not have to use words if we don’t have to. The truth is, sometimes – perhaps often – words are needed too. As people of faith, it’s important to have words for our experiences of God. To understand that God is indeed active and present in our lives, and to be able to share that with others when the situation calls for it.

The question where did you see God in your life this week isn’t always an easy question to answer. Especially for those who are new to this. But I bet you could tell me when in the last week you felt joy; when you felt loved; a time when you experienced forgiveness or grace; a time when you felt encouraged; something that you are so grateful for. In fact, you all just practiced doing that together during our Theme Time. I’ll let you in on a secret – the answers to these questions point to God’s presence in your life. This is God, active and working in your life.

Scripture is important too. Clearly the Samaritan woman was a person of faith because she was able to theologically spar with Jesus. Knowing the stories of our faith matter. But our personal stories are what change hearts; stories are how we connect with others; stories are how we make meaning of our lives.

We never know who might need to hear about God’s love, grace, joy, forgiveness, mercy. If we can share how God’s goodness and grace is present in our lives, it gives hope to others that this might be true for them also. It opens the possibility for them to consider how their experiences of these gifts might also be God active in their life.

Most of us are not natural born evangelists; but this is a skill we can develop. And we start small. So this week, I invite you to be on the lookout for those moments when you experience joy or love or grace or forgiveness or encouragement. To notice them, and to think about how God was a part of those moments. To remember that God acts in our lives through other people, through unexpected gifts, through synchronicities (those events that seem related but at first glance have no obvious causal connection).

This kind of reflection may not come naturally to us, but it’s a skill we can learn. And it’s good to practice sharing these stories with each other. This is a safe crowd. The more we practice this kind of reflection and sharing with each other, the easier it will be to do this with others when the opportunities present themselves. And the more we can put words to God’s activity in our lives, the more equipped we will be to follow Jesus’ invitation to “go and do what she did.” AMEN

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Sunday January 25, 2026
Third Sunday after Epiphany

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/URx0kHTzbmI

Sermon for the 3rd Sunday after Epiphany
Sunday, January 25, 2026
Preached at St. Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 3:1-21 - Nicodemus
Over the years, as I’ve preached on this story, I’ve really grown to appreciate Nicodemus. Nicodemus often gets a reputation for being ignorant or stupid, probably because part way through the conversation Jesus seems to criticize him when it’s clear that he’s utterly confused by Jesus’ teachings. But I don’t know how many of us would have fared much better in this conversation.

Nicodemus is certainly courageous. He sticks his neck out coming to meet with Jesus in the first place. Nicodemus is a pharisee, a part of the religious establishment, and it would have been risky to associate himself with Jesus given what had just happened in the temple the other day (when Jesus overturned the moneychangers tables and drove out all the animals, accusing the people of making the temple a marketplace).

And it doesn’t seem as though Nicodemus is trying to trap or trick Jesus. Did you notice the very first thing he says to Jesus? “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one could do these miraculous signs that you do unless God is with him.” Nicodemus begins with a profession of faith – he recognizes that Jesus is tapped right into the source – that he is from God. So even though later on in the conversation Jesus gives him a hard time, I think Jesus sees something in Nicodemus. This is someone who is ready to go deeper in things of faith, which is why Jesus jumps right into the deep end with him.

To Nicodemus’ affirmation of Jesus’ connection with God, Jesus replies “I assure you, unless someone is born anew, it’s not possible to see God’s kingdom.” Again, Nicodemus asks what to some might seem like a dumb question – of course no one can literally be re-birthed from their mother’s womb. But Jesus doesn’t say it was a dumb question (which is a clue to us that maybe we shouldn’t judge either). Instead, Jesus just keeps going deeper while Nicodemus tries to keep up.

This leads into the conversation about being born anew. This is the passage in the Bible where the phrase “born again” comes from. In our translation it says, “born anew” some other versions translate this as “born from above.” And that’s because the original Greek word means both of those things. It could mean either born again/anew, or born from above. And it’s this ambiguity that’s led to a lot of disagreement between different Christian denominations over the years.

Some Christians believe that Jesus is talking about the need to have a particular kind of conversion experience. That to be “born again” means you’ve had a particular moment in your life you can point to where you made the decision to make Jesus your Lord and Savior. It often means even praying a particular prayer, asking Jesus into your heart. Other Christians, however, (and most Lutherans would fall in this camp) would say that Jesus is actually talking about baptism here. Being born of water and the spirit means being baptized. Ultimately, we don’t really know the answer. Jesus isn’t super clear on what he means – whether it’s about conversion, or baptism, or even both. And I think that the confusion and the lack of clarity is part of the point Jesus is trying to make with Nicodemus.

This is the same Jesus who began his movement by inviting people to “come and see.” When you come along with Jesus, you embark on a great spiritual adventure where your views of God and yourself and the world will be challenged. Where you will encounter the limits of your own understanding. Where you will be invited to trust amidst the unknowing and unanswered questions.

Part of my affinity for Nicodemus is that Nicodemus represents all of us who are already part of the religious establishment. Those of us who already belong to a church, who have perhaps been raised in the Christian faith. We are the ones who already have a sense of who Jesus is because we’ve been blessed with people who’ve taught us the stories; who’ve modelled for us what it looks like to have faith. And we fool ourselves if we think we already have it all figured out and don’t have any more to learn.

Like Nicodemus, Jesus invites us to be born anew – again and again and again. Conversion isn’t a one and done kind of thing. We’re always wandering away and God is always calling us back. Baptism isn’t just something that happened once upon a time long ago; it’s a way of life we are called to live into more deeply each and every day. And we do this by wrestling with the tough questions. By increasing our comfort with mystery and unknowing. By recognizing that faith isn’t just about what we think about who God is, but it’s also what our heart knows intuitively about who God is. Hearts that know the deep love that God has for this world, even when it feels like the world is falling to pieces.

It has been a heavy time in the world lately. Thousands of protestors killed in Iran. Thousands protesting the ICE raids in Minnesota, and another senseless death there yesterday morning. The speech from Prime Minister Carney that was both inspirational and sobering, as he speaks about the end of a rules-based world order. And the most recent 100% tariff threats from Trump.

In all the heaviness, it’s essential to note that in Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, there is one thing Jesus doesn’t leave to mystery. Jesus is very clear about one thing – God’s love is holding this whole hurting world. And this isn’t some clichéd, “all you need is love,” kind of thing. This is about the only force that has the power to transform the pain and hurt we see around us.

Even though it sometimes seems hidden, God’s deep, unending, unconditional love for this world is visible to us in Jesus. As Jesus’ story unfolds, we will what God’s love looks like. In his life and in his death – we witness the ultimate act of self-giving love for the sake of the world. This is what we are asked to place our trust in.

There is one final curious – mysterious – part of this story: we don’t see or hear from Nicodemus at the end of the conversation. Jesus gets the last word, but I like to imagine Nicodemus quietly slipping away, pondering all of these things in his heart. Captivated and convinced by Jesus’ proclamation of love, despite all the pieces that are still a little fuzzy or confusing. And the reason I feel fairly confident in imagining this ending is that Nicodemus will show up two more times yet in John’s gospel.

A few chapters on, the religious authorities are debating what to do about Jesus. They want to get rid of him, and Nicodemus sticks his neck out, saying “Surely Jesus should receive a hearing before any decision is made.” But when he’s challenged by the others, he is silent. A feeble step, but a step in faith.

And then, we last see Nicodemus after Jesus’ crucifixion. Along with Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus helps prepare Jesus’ body for burial. A final act of love for the teacher who taught Nicodemus the meaning of love. The ultimate act of love, in fact, because it can never be repaid.

Like Nicodemus, we are all on a journey of faith and learning. We may not always know the right questions to ask. We may have our doubts. We most certainly will never have it all figured out. But we can be assured of God’s love for us. Just as Nicodemus was transformed by his encounter with Jesus – who is Love in human flesh, we can be assured that this same Love with a capital ‘L’ has the power to transform us and shape us too. To strengthen us and deepen our faith. That Jesus – God’s Love Made Flesh – will not only help us through hard times, but gives us courage to embody this same kind of transformative love. So that our lives can also be a force for good in this world. May it be so. Amen.

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Sunday January 18, 2026
Second Sunday after Epiphany

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/WBmsSNx1WzA

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after Epiphany
Sunday, January 18, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 2:13-26 – Jesus Cleanses the Temple
Here in the church, January is always a month with financial things that need doing. Alex is busy working with our accountants to get the 2025 year-end financials wrapped up, charitable receipts have been sent out, and our ministry teams are busy preparing their 2026 budgets for the annual meeting at the end of March. And so it seems fitting to have this story where Jesus talks about money in the context of places of worship.

It is Passover – the festival where the Jewish people remember how God liberated their ancestors from slavery in Egypt. Passover is one of three pilgrimage festivals in Judaism, and Jesus’ day, all those who were able, were expected to travel to Jerusalem to offer a sacrifice at the temple, no matter where they lived. Which meant some traveled very long distances – even from other countries.

This is why there were cattle, sheep, doves, and money changers at the temple. It’s not exactly practical to bring a goat or cow on a long trip. Not to mention that any animal that is offered as a sacrifice is supposed to be unblemished, and it would be tricky to keep an animal unblemished over a long trip (possibility of injury or cracked hooves). And of course money changers are needed to exchange the foreign currency that pilgrims are coming with.

You could say that having these animals and money changers in the temple was an act of accommodation. This was something that made it simpler for pilgrims to fulfill their religious duties – to offer a gift of thanksgiving for God’s faithfulness to the people. But clearly Jesus doesn’t see it that way. Jesus doesn’t want his Father’s house to be a place of business.

Which means we get to talk about money today! And I’m so grateful for the way the Spirit moves, because one of the podcasts I listen to regularly just happened to interview Irish economist David McWilliams this past week about his recently published book “The History of Money: A Story of Humanity.” 1

In the interview they name that money is one of those things we really don’t like to talk about – it’s not considered polite. And yet money is perhaps the most relevant force in society. And McWilliams make the case, drawing on stories from ancient Mesopotamia to present-day Silicon Valley, that money is an innovation – a ‘technology’ – that has led to the advancement of civilization more than almost any other technology (perhaps only matched by the ability to use fire). And on the flip side, money – and more specifically how money is distributed – is also always at the root of revolution.

I won’t go into all the details here, but the interview is worth a listen and based on the interview, the book sounds really interesting. What I think is relevant for us this morning is to be reminded how integral money is to our world. How it has been a force for great things as well as terrible things. Which is helpful to keep in mind as we get back to Jesus in the temple, overturning tables and driving out the animals.

Our first instinct might be to think that there is something nefarious or unjust going on in the temple. After all, in the other gospels Jesus accuses the people of making the temple a “den of robbers.” But in John, Jesus is actually more broad in his critique. He says, “stop making my Father’s house a place of business.” It would seem that the issue isn’t just unjust practices, but the very presence of commerce that’s a problem for Jesus.

The story takes another unexpected turn when Jesus is challenged by the religious leaders. They want to know who he thinks he is creating all this chaos and disruption. Jesus takes the conversation in an entirely different direction with his answer: “destroy this temple and in three days I’ll raise it up.” You can just imagine the religious leaders scratching their heads. They thought they were talking about business practices, not the destruction of the temple.

This is one of those moments when we have to step back and understand that there’s the story, and then there’s the audience that our gospel writer John was writing for. In the context of the story, Jesus’ response makes no sense. Jesus and the temple authorities are talking past each other. But to John’s community living some 60 years after the fact, it made total sense. They are living in a world where the temple had in fact been destroyed by the Romans during the siege of Jerusalem in the year 70CE. For John’s community, the temple is gone, but they can trust that the body of the risen Christ lives on in them.

As we think about this story, and what it might mean for us, there are two thoughts I want to leave you with.

The first is about money, and Jesus’ critique of money in the temple – “don’t make my Father’s house a place of business.” As a church – as a community of faith – it’s hard to know what to do with this because it hits close to home. It’s possible that in some Messianic future, when Jesus reigns in justice and peace, that money will no longer be needed. But here and now, we have bills to pay; staff salaries to cover; a building to maintain. This is a tension that communities of faith live with. How do we honour the spirit of Jesus’ words as faithfully as we can?

I wish I had all the answers, but this is something that as a community of faith we are called to wrestle with together. To remember that budgets are moral documents – how we choose to spend the money we have says a lot about our values and priorities. The church cannot just be like any other business; we are meant to be about more than “the bottom line.” Because, as we heard last week, we have a Saviour who provides abundantly – more than we can imagine when we least expect it.

The other piece I want to offer is connected to Jesus’ words about his body being the temple. Like faith communities through the ages, we have a building that we love where we can gather each week to worship God. But this building is not the church. We, the people, the community, are the church. We are the Body of Christ. And it’s this the Body of Christ – the community – that endures even as buildings and economies crumble. It’s the Body of Christ that carries on the work of loving, serving, and building peace.

When Brad and I met to plan music for this morning’s worship, we went back and forth a bit on the hymn of the day. One of the suggestions, was 652 Built on a Rock, which in the end we decided was the right hymn to sing. At a time when we’re dealing with an aging, costly to maintain building, it can feel uncomfortable to sing about falling steeples and crumbling spires, but I invite you to pay close attention to all of the lyrics as they so beautifully speak to the themes I’ve been talking about.

Holding our buildings – and our money – lightly, and remembering the power of Christ to work in us and through us in every time and place. May it be so. Amen.

Built on a Rock

1 Built on a rock the church shall stand,
even when steeples are falling;
crumbled have spires in ev'ry land,
bells still are chiming and calling—
calling the young and old to rest,
calling the souls of those distressed,
longing for life everlasting.

2 Surely, in temples made with hands
God the Most High is not dwelling—
high in the heav'ns his temple stands,
all earthly temples excelling.
Yet God who dwells in heav'n above
deigns to abide with us in love,
making our bodies his temple.

3 Christ builds a house of living stones:
we are his own habitation;
he fills our hearts, his humble thrones,
granting us life and salvation.
Where two or three will seek his face,
he in their midst will show his grace,
blessings upon them bestowing.

4 Yet in this house, an earthly frame,
Jesus the children is blessing;
hither we come to praise his name,
faith in our Savior confessing.
Jesus to us his Spirit sent,
making with us his covenant,
granting his children the kingdom.

5 Through all the passing years, O Lord,
grant that, when church bells are ringing,
many may come to hear your Word,
who here this promise is bringing:
"I know my own, my own know me;
you, not the world, my face shall see;
my peace I leave with you. Amen."

Text: Nicolai F. S. Grundtvig, 1783-1872; tr. Carl Doving, 1867-1937, adapt.; Text © 1958 Service Book and Hymnal, admin. Augsburg Fortress. Reprinted with permission under ONE LICENSE, License #A-727610. All rights reserved.

1 https://armchairexpertpod.com/pods/david-mcwilliams

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Sunday January 11, 2026
The Baptism of Our Lord

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/pPTVd-Cw_kw

Sermon for Baptism of Our Lord
Sunday, January 11, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

John 2:1-11
I’m curious, how many of you have ever had to write an essay before? And maybe you can remember from your high school or university days having it drilled into you the importance of having a good thesis statement. That sentence in the opening paragraph that clearly identifies the topic being discussed, and the points that will be made in the paper.

When it comes to the gospels, one could say that their thesis statement is Jesus’ first act of public ministry. Because what Jesus does first gives important clues about what each gospel writer wants us to know about Jesus. In Matthew, Jesus’ first act of public ministry is the Sermon on the Mount. In Mark, it’s an exorcism. In Luke, Jesus gives a challenging sermon in his hometown that nearly gets him thrown off a cliff, setting up the major theme of rejection. And in John, Jesus turns water into wine.

John’s Gospel is the only one to include this miracle – or as John calls them, signs – and John includes it first. Which ought to make us wonder, what is this sign – this thesis statement – trying to tell us about who Jesus is and what we can expect from him?

Jesus is attending a wedding in the nearby town of Cana when they run out of wine. In Jesus’ day, a wedding was a week-long affair of feasting and celebrating, and wine was an essential part of such an event. So running out of wine was a major faux-pas on the part of the hosts.

Now we don’t know why they ran out wine. Perhaps folks were thirstier than anticipated. Perhaps they miscalculated how much they would need. Maybe a bunch of extra guests showed up. The reason why doesn’t really matter. The fact is they have run out of wine, the wedding isn’t over yet, and they need to figure out a solution fast or the couple will forever be remembered in Cana as “the ones who were stingy with the wine at their wedding.”

I wonder, have you ever had a time when you found yourself at the end of your resources? When you were tapped out – completely exhausted mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually? Maybe even this week or right now? 2025 was a certainly a year that sapped a lot of our juice with all that’s going on in the world right now – not to mention if you also had any challenging or difficult things going on in your personal life.

The beginning of a new year is often a time filled with hopes and dreams for the coming months. But the reality is – especially as we trudge through this wintery Ontario weather – you may also be finding that some days you’re feeling short on that essence, that vitality, for living life to the fullest.

When the wedding runs out of wine it should have been up to the hosts to deal with the problem, but when Jesus’ mom hears what’s going on, she nudges him to get involved. Because as moms do, she has an inkling of just what her son is capable of. And while Jesus initially resists, thankfully he gets involved.

Jesus tells the servants to fill six stone jars with water. Each of these jars hold twenty or thirty gallons – enough water to make 1000 bottles of wine. Now that’s a lot of wine, and not only that – it turns out Jesus knows how to make the really good stuff.

It’s a pretty awesome thesis statement John makes about Jesus. With this first act of public ministry, John tells us that in Jesus – God’s Conversation Made Flesh, the one who invites us to “come and see” – that in Jesus, we will know what abundance – what “grace upon grace” – looks like. Karoline Lewis, the author of my go-to commentary on the gospel of John, puts it like this. She says that this abundance “tastes like the best wine, more than you could possibly want or drink, when you least expect it.”1 If you’re not a wine drinker, replace this image with your favourite drink – the very best, more than you could possibly consume, when you least expect it.

With this first act of public ministry John also tells us that in Jesus we have the most amazing promise, because Jesus saves the best for last (a nod to the promise of the resurrection and life everlasting).

On those days, when you find yourself at the end of your resources, running out of juice, this sign – turning water into wine – offers a much needed word of hope. When we find our resources at an end, Jesus invites us to rely on him. To remember that we are enough, even when we’re exhausted or running on empty. To remember that Jesus – that God – is always with us, and that from God’s abundance, will give us what we need to get through.

Today in the church we are celebrating Baptism of our Lord. And while our main gospel text for today isn’t about baptism, it does include water. It’s important to remember that this abundance of wine came from water. It’s a powerful reminder that being baptized – being washed in water by the Spirit – is the entry into God’s abundant life for us. Baptism is the promise that can live in abundant hope because we have been named and claimed by God.

Here at St Peter’s, we have a practice of having the baptismal font open and filled with water each week. And I know some of you are already in the habit of pausing at the font when you come up for communion – either on your way up or you way down. It’s my practice to stop at the font on my way to the exit each week during our sending hymn. I dip my finger in the water and trace the sign of the cross on my forehead. Every week, this is a brief moment that catches me – and it’s about the embodied experience of this act. The sensation of that cool water on my forehead feels nice – and the water reminds me of God’s closeness. That I am a precious child of God and Jesus is always walking with me.

For those who are in the building this morning, I invite you to pause at the baptismal font this morning on your way up or down from communion. Dip your finger in the water, trace a cross on your forehead, and as you feel the water on your forehead, take a moment to remember the promise that God is with you and the gift of abundant life is yours. And those of you at home, you can grab a glass of water from your kitchen and do the same.

If this miracle that Jesus performed at a Wedding in Cana all those years ago teaches us anything about discipleship – about what it means to follow Jesus – it’s that this is not a path we walk alone. Following Jesus means remembering our need, our reliance, our dependence on God, because God has an abundance of grace that is more than sufficient – that is always there even when our own resources run dry.

Today, and this week, may this first sign of abundance and promise sustain you as you wait expectantly to be surprised by Jesus’ gifts of grace upon grace. Because in Jesus, you can trust

that you will be blessed by these unexpected gifts when you need them the most and when you least expect them. AMEN.

1 Karoline Lewis. “Fortress Biblical Preaching Commentaries: John,” 39.

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Sunday January 4, 2026
The Epiphany of Our Lord

The video for this service can be found at the following YouTube link:
https://youtu.be/P4O2s7r7lIk

Sermon for Epiphany of Our Lord
Sunday, January 4, 2026
Preached at St Peter’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Cambridge
Rev. Laura Sauder

“Jesus Says Come and See” – John 1:35-51
As far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to learn more about God and Jesus and the stories of our faith. This curiosity led me to think about becoming a pastor, and I started seminary excited to nurture that curiosity (and hoping to finally find some answers to those hardest questions). Questions like: Who is God? What does it mean that God is three and yet one? Why is there so much suffering in the world? What does the Bible teach about life and death and life after death?

For me seminary was an exciting time of deep learning. But I still remember clear as day getting to the end of my studies and feeling this sense of dread that even with all this theological training I still didn’t feel that I had the answers to those very hardest questions. Our professors would tell us that it wasn’t our job to have all the answers, but that didn’t necessarily make it any easier going out to interview with congregations and wondering whether someone somewhere might put me on the spot with a tough question and I might be stuck for words.

I still struggle some days with not having all the answers to the hard questions of faith that I wish I had, but over time and with experience I’ve come to see that my professors were right. For pastors and for all people of faith, it’s not our job to have ALL the answers – and one of the things that’s helped me most with accepting this is realizing I’m in good company.

When Jesus asks Andrew and the unnamed disciple why they are following him, they don’t have an answer. Put on the spot, all they can think to say is “where are you staying?” Probably not the question they’d really wanted to ask this great teacher of the faith if they’d had more time to think about it.

And Nathanael, a student of the scriptures, is surprised when his friend Philip tells him that they’ve found “him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote.” That it’s this man Jesus from Nazareth.” Nathanael can’t believe that the Messiah would come from Nazareth – “can anything good come out of Nazareth,” he wonders. An answer that Nathanael thought he could hold onto – that the Messiah couldn’t come from Nazareth – turns out to be wrong.

For me, it’s a comforting reminder that the life of faith is about the search for meaning, purpose, and connection. It’s often not at all about the answers. Instead, faith is more about the questions and the journey.

Because what does Jesus say to Andrew and the unnamed disciples when they ask him where he’s staying? Jesus invites them to “come and see.” And this invitation begins to spread. Jesus calls Philip to “follow him,” and then Philip invites his friend Nathanael to “come and see.” The life of discipleship, of following Jesus, is an invitation to relationship; to do life together. Jesus invites the disciples to take a journey with him; to sit with him and listen; to see miracles; to eat together and live together and be friends.

Jesus promises that if they come with him they will see great things – that in him and with him they will encounter God and come to know God more deeply. They will find some answers – but Jesus doesn’t promise ALL the answers.

So often faith is talked about as if it’s “knowing things about God.” But faith is not just what we think or believe about God; faith is a relationship of trust with God. And as with any relationship, as we grow and change and evolve, so our faith will grow and change and evolve.

Faith is not having all of the answers to life’s mysteries; faith is answering the invitation to come and see. To come and sit with the scriptures, so that we might hear God’s Living Word spoken in this time and place. To come and pray, so that we might listen for God’s presence and action in our lives and our world. To come and worship, so that we might see how God is revealed to us in prayer, music, and the sacraments. To come and serve others, so that we might see how God is revealed in acts of compassion and love, of giving and receiving. To invite others to come and see what church is all about, who God is and what Jesus is like.

And not to worry about not having answers to the hard questions – just to invite others, like Jesus did, to come and see – trusting that together we will learn and grow and deepen in faith.

We often make faith first and foremost about holding certain beliefs – and certainly beliefs have a place – but that’s not where Jesus starts. Jesus begins with an invitation to ‘come and see.’

It seems like the perfect place to start a new year, this invitation to “come and see.” My hope is that you will hear Jesus’ call as a personal invitation to nurture that relationship this year, and beyond.

As a small way of encouraging that response, I’d like to offer you each a “star word” this morning. This is a practice that’s become something of an Epiphany tradition in some congregations. As the name would suggest, it’s a word written on a star. Like the Epiphany story of the wise men searching out the baby Jesus, the word is a gift for you – the star a reminder of the one we all seek – the one who calls us to come and see, and be in relationship with him.

In just a moment I will pass around a couple of baskets – you’re invited to pick a star (without looking) to take home and hang up somewhere where you’ll see it every day – your bathroom mirror, your computer screen, at the door, in your car. The idea is that you will reflect on that word for the coming year; ponder what significance this word might have in your life, and how God might be speaking to you through that simple message. A good place to start is to look it up in a dictionary to see what that spurs for you… Perhaps it will speak to you immediately, or perhaps the word will gain meaning as the year goes on. And if you have a sense right away that the word you chose isn’t right for you, put it back and choose another one. For those on zoom (or reading this at a later time) – please contact the church office 519-653-4721 – and we will get one to you.

May this word help you answer Jesus’ invitation to “come and see” this year.

Let us pray,

God, we acknowledge that we are not always ready to receive your best gifts for us. You have given us a star word in order that our searching will bring us to you.

It is often our habit to turn aside, stumble over, or even reject experiences and encounters that we later understand to have been precious gifts.

Help us to be open to the gift that you offer us now through our star words. We acknowledge that we do not fully understand what this word might mean for our faith, but we receive it from you with gratitude and pray that your Spirit will enable us to live into our word with intention and faithfulness. Amen.

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