Pastor Cogan

Put Down the Duckie

Mark 2:23-3:6

One sabbath he was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence,

which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored.

The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.


The hardest assignment I ever had in seminary was to put down the duckie. To explain what that means, I’ll need a little help from Ernie and Hoots the Owl.

In seminary I took a class called Soil and Sabbath with Nate Stucky, professor of Old Testament and director of the Farminary, this magical place that combined small scale agriculture and theological education. At the first class, Nate had us pick up a duck and as I remember it, the duck, much like Ernie and his duck, represented the thing we clung to so tightly.

And for a bunch of young people at seminary, we held fervently to our identities as students, achievers, who wrote impressive papers, read lots of books, and would become great pastors and professors because of all that. The assignment that was so hard was this: put down your duck for at least six consecutive hours each week and during these six hours write down, tell someone, or otherwise recall a story of God’s saving action or provision. And while six hours may not sound like much, it was surprisingly difficult. After a few hours I would get antsy knowing there were always more pages to read, a study group to attend, or papers to work on. And it didn’t just affect me.

This practice of sabbath, of putting down the duck, was Katelyn’s favorite assignment. She loved the rhythm it enforced in our newly minted marriage and the fact that for six hours she didn’t have to hear about some boring book or theologian. I didn’t always keep my Sabbath. At midterms and finals, I carried my duck 24/7. And after the class, our sabbath [my sabbath] was never as intentional as it was that first semester.

This assignment, more than any other, showed me how my worth, how good of a pastor I would be, how I saw and understood myself, was wrapped up in what I produced, by how busy I was, and how well I did in my classes.Stopping, even for six hours, disrupted all of that. But that’s exactly what sabbath is supposed to do.

The commandment to observe the sabbath is listed in two places in the Bible. In Exodus, God spoke to Moses and said “Remember the sabbath, keep it holy” and gave this explanation as to why: “for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them, but rested the 7th day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it”. In short, do as God did. God rested from work so you should rest from work.

Deuteronomy, however, is a bit different. It’s the same commandment, but a different explanation. “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.” Here, the Israelites are invited to rest not to imitate God but to see what God has done for them and see who they truly are.

For 400 years, the Israelites were enslaved, forced to make bricks each and every day with no rest. Their life was consumed by their work, their worth was only found in how much they produced. Then after leaving Egypt, God says one day you won’t work or make anything. It was a radical reorientation reminding Israel that they are no longer slaves, their worth did not come from how many bricks they made, and their identity did not come from their work.

God had made them free and would provide for them, even when they didn’t work because they were God’s people, chosen and loved. Rest made them see this. And look how inclusive, how far reaching the sabbath invitation was: animals, servants, immigrants among them, all were extended the same rest, because no one and no thing should be forced to work their life away. Rest is a gift for all of creation.

Maybe like the Israelites, your identity is wrapped up in work, feeling like your worth comes from what you produce, how much money you make, or the title you carry. Maybe you're wrapped up in being the perfect parent or spouse, or weighing the right number on a scale. Who are you when the children move out, or you get divorced, or you retire, or your body can no longer do what it once could? What’s the duckie you can’t put down? Sabbath is a rhythm to help you see and grasp the identity you have as a beloved child of God made in the image of God.

This one day of rest shows us our value as a person is not found in what we do or how busy we are but in whose we are. It is a form of grace; and like all grace, it disrupts our lives and causes us to change how we see ourselves. And not only are we changed by sabbath but so too are our days, our families, even our communities.

It is a hard grace for us to receive, but there are practical ways to help establish a sabbath. Dorothy Bass advises avoiding three things: work, commerce, and worry. Working nonstop makes us our own God, thinking all we have is by what we’ve done. And how prideful to think the world rotates because of our work. Stopping, just for one day, gives space for us to reflect on all that God has done and all the ways God provides for us.

And we’ll find that when we have balance with work, we’ll encourage others to have that too.

As for commerce, buying and spending are wrapped up in work. As Bass notes, “commerce creates the conditions for work and often more work. When we pause buying and spending, we pause work for others also.”

And likely the hardest thing to not do is worry. If you aren’t working, then you are worrying about work, or what needs done around the house, or the family problem that needs to be addressed, or the upcoming election and latest headlines. While it is undoubtedly hard to cast away our worries completely, we can refrain from things that induce worry, radical things like having your phone by your side, reading the news, checking Facebook or your email, or pausing the house project.

This may sound restricting, oppressive even. But the intent is the opposite. Sabbath is a day made for you, as Jesus tells us, a day to be life giving and rejuvenating. A day where you are free to rest, celebrate, and feast. Walk, play, and pray. Love and be loved. Serve, study, and sing. And most importantly, free to worship and give thanks for the grace of God that is ours through Jesus. Every sabbath is a little easter celebrating that we need not work ourselves to death in order to save ourselves. Christ has done that for you. No matter how well you keep the sabbath, it does not get you to heaven. And neither does any amount of work you do or money you make.

So put down the duckie and remember the sabbath. If a whole day seems too much at first, try it for six hours. You might be surprised at how hard this is and how it changes not only your day, but your family’s day too.

Which is why sabbath isn’t meant to be done alone. Sabbath is done best in a community, a group of people willing to go against the culture of ceaseless consumption and production.

Sabbath is the grace of rest, helping us see that who we are cannot be reduced to the work we can or cannot do, and tells us that we are loved, you are loved simply because you are a child of God. Sabbath truly is grace with no strings attached.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.



Hard Goodbyes and Pentecost Promises

John 15:26-27; 164b-15

Jesus continued… ”When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf. You also are to testify because you have been with me from the beginning.

But I have said these things to you so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you about them. “I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I am going to him who sent me; yet none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts.

Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. 

And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment: about sin, because they do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the Father and you will see me no longer; about judgment, because the ruler of this world has been condemned. 

“I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. 

He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.


For the fourth week in a row, we are still in Jesus’ farewell discourse, a long farewell to his disciples. In my mind, it's similar to our midwestern goodbye. You must know what I mean. It starts off with a loud “welp” to initiate the process, followed by saying goodbye in the living room, again at the front door, and then a final goodbye in the driveway with conversation at each point along the way. And believe me, I am not knocking the midwest goodbye! If anything I do it pretty well! And I think we do this long process because saying goodbye is hard.

Finding the right words, the right tone, it’s all hard. Shakespeare was certainly right, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” Leaving brings pain and yet at the same time rouses a sense of hope and anticipation of coming together again. In his goodbye to the disciples, Jesus says, “I tell you the truth; it is to your advantage that I go away”. When someone is saying goodbye, I don’t think we necessarily always want the truth. The truth can be unnerving, shocking even. Like when someone’s going back for surgery you don’t say, “Well the truth is I might not ever see you again”. That’s not helpful or comforting in any way. We would much rather have a promise, “I’ll be right here when you get back”. 

Here, however, Jesus gives the disciples both. The truth is, it is better for you that I go away. And here we should pause. How can it be better that Jesus go away? For many, if not most, people in the Christian tradition, closeness to Jesus is the most important thing. We long to be close to Jesus, to be in a relationship with Jesus. 

And we wait with great anticipation for Jesus' return, for the time when he will once again be close in a physical, incarnate way as he was. Being far away, separated from Jesus then would be the worst thing for our faith. Why then, is it to the advantage of the disciples that Jesus goes away? And is that to our advantage too? How can Jesus saying goodbye be a good thing?

This is the house I grew up in. Last weekend I walked barefoot in the yard, pushed my son on the swingset I had when I was his age, and pulled out of the driveway for the last time. After 33 years, my parents sold the house and our family said goodbye to the house and land we called home for all those years. It was the place of birthday parties and barbecues, arguments and reconciliations, and too many firsts to name. On that land we planted a garden and trees and a family and were nourished by the fruits of it all. Whenever I moved away, it was the place I knew I could always return to for a meal at the table, a bed, and fireball in the freezer. It was the best home a family could have.

If my parents had stayed, they would have been bound to take care of the yard. They would have been the farthest house away in our family. They would have collected more stuff (and there was no more space in the hoarder closest). All of that, in one way or another, would have limited them on how they spent their time and what they could do. Was it hard to say goodbye? Yes. But we reminded each other of the good things this meant for not only my parents, but for our family. They are now closer to more family and are the meeting place in between all the grandkids. 

Now weekends can be less mowing, weeding, or mulching and more camping. Moving brought downsizing and getting rid of stuff that had accumulated over 3 decades. Saying goodbye will hopefully give my parents a freedom they have not known for quite some time and could not have had if they stayed. The promises of moving outweighed the good of staying. And that right there, helps me understand just a bit more of how Jesus’ leaving was not only to the advantage of the disciples, but for us too. 

It is easy for us to overlook the fact that when Jesus was on earth, he was human, fully human. He had a body just like you and I, which means he had limitations, just like you and I. We see these limitations throughout his ministry: he grows tired and takes naps; he gets hungry and thirsty; he can’t be there for everyone who needs him, like when his friend Lazuras died. Jesus was constrained by the physical and spacial limits that come with being incarnate, with having a body, and with being human. 

We know what it's like to have limitations too: limits to what our bodies can do and what our minds can understand. There are only so many relationships we can balance, stress we can handle, or fear we can face. And while it may seem like the way to overcome a limit is to work harder or to push past it, Jesus shows us that it’s quite the opposite. 

The truth in this goodbye is that Jesus must leave. But the promise in this goodbye, the promise of Pentecost, is that Jesus will give all disciples the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Helper. Which means Jesus is no longer limited to a body. Instead, as the Holy Spirit, Jesus would be at work in multiple people, in multiple places, all at the same time. And where one part of the Trinity is at work, there the entirety of the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) is at work also. In other words, as one Rob Saler puts it, “When you get the Spirit, you get all of Christ.”

Here’s one example of how that’s good news for us. Today is First Communion Sunday for 11 of our young partners in mission. They spent a Saturday morning with me learning what this meal is, and what it does. One of, if not the hardest thing to explain, is that as Lutherans we believe that Jesus is really present in the bread and wine at communion. That’s what makes this regular bread and wine special, Jesus is truly “in, with and under the bread.” 

It’s not that the bread becomes Jesus' body as in you get a piece of a finger or part of the leg when you eat the bread. That’s not how this works. Because Jesus is no longer limited to a body, to being human, Jesus, by way of the Holy Spirit, is really present at this table and every table, wherever people are gathered to eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of him, giving us love and grace and forgiveness, here and now. 

Jesus knew that the answer to his limitation meant saying goodbye to the disciples, to his friends. But, ironically, only in his leaving would he be able to come closer not only to the disciples, but to all people in every land. 

We too have limitations and must say goodbye to some things in order to be who we are called to be, and to do what we are called to do. Maybe it's time to make that move, quit that job, end that relationship, drop that grudge, let go of your pride, or money, or fear. I’m not saying it’s easy. 

Goodbyes are hard. But Jesus gives us the Holy Spirit, an Advocate, a Helper to guide us in whatever comes after the goodbye. All that you will need for this new life, for life after the goodbye, the Spirit will give: strength in our weakness, prayers when we have none, and comfort along the way. 

That’s the promise of Pentecost. 

Amen.