Psalm 8

O Lord, our Sovereign,

how majestic is your name in all the earth!

You have set your glory above the heavens.

Out of the mouths of babes and infants

you have founded a bulwark because of your foes,

to silence the enemy and the avenger.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars that you have established;

what are humans that you are mindful of them,

mortals that you care for them?

Yet you have made them a little lower than God

and crowned them with glory and honor.

You have given them dominion over the works of your hands;

you have put all things under their feet,

all sheep and oxen,

and also the beasts of the field,

the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,

whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

O Lord, our Sovereign,

how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Tis the season of open houses. I never know what card to get; so I looked up some funny ones and these were my favorite. (Cards shown on the screen)

Maybe you’ve been to a few open houses already or have a couple still to come. On Monday, Katelyn and I went to one for a high school senior. He’s a remarkable young man. He excelled in academics, athletics; spiritually and socially he’s mature beyond his years and I have every confidence that he will excel in all that comes his way, no matter what it is. At his open house, he had a Bible open and invited folks to highlight a verse or two as a note of encouragement for him as he heads to college.

People had already highlighted the traditional, go-to passages: “For I know the plans I have for you,” “I can do all things through Christ”, “Be strong and courageous; do not be afraid”, “Nothing is impossible with God”. I thought about being a smart aleck and picking some obscure, random story; like the attack of the she bears in 2 kings, or Ehud killing King Elgon while on the toilet, but I refrained. In fact, I wasn’t sure which verse or verses to pick.

It made me wonder, What advice do you offer to the over achiever, and to the underachiever, for that matter? What do you say to the highschool graduate entering the workforce, to the one going to college, or to the college graduate? For many, if not most, graduates there is so much to look forward to; a “the world is your oyster” type of moment. Yet at the same time, it’s appropriate to look back and bask in all the accolades and accomplishments. To relish in them, if only for a moment, and to feel proud about all that’s been done.

Yet, in the back, or possibly the front, of most graduates' minds, even if they know exactly what they are doing, are all sorts of questions: How hard is this going to be (whatever ‘this’ is’)? What do I need to do to start the career I think I want? What internship or scholarship or degree must I have for the profession I want or to make the money I want or to have the status I want? How will I measure up in this great big world?

What they don’t tell you at graduation or in your first year of college or in the first year of your job, (or at least what I don’t remember being told), is how easy it is to feel lost in it all, to feel like the world is too big, the challenges too great, your not doing as well in school as you had, or you aren’t producing at work as much you hope or as much is demanded of you. Amid all the change both in and around you, you begin to see the vastness of this world, and you ask yourself, “What am I doing? Who am I?”

The psalmist asks a similar question in Psalm 8. Now David didn’t write the Psalms attributed to him, but we can imagine a young David, a shepherd, keeping watch over his flock by night. And as he lay in the grass, David stares up into the heavens and sees the work of God’s hands, brilliant shining stars, the moon in all its grandeur. And in the vastness of it all, the psalmist wonders like the graduates “what are human beings that you Oh God are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?”

In other words, how could I, this single, seemingly insignificant soul, in the midst of this ever expanding universe, on this one planet filled with other people, smarter people, stronger, more productive and effective people, how could I possibly matter? This isn’t a question that only graduates or the psalmist wrestle with, but one that all of us have at one time or another. How is it that God thinks and remembers me? Who am I that God would care for me?

This question is asked in other places in the Bible. Bildad, one of Job’s “friends” gives an answer saying we are nothing but worms and maggots. Later the Psalmist will say we are grass that simply fades away. Neither are verses to highlight for a graduate.

But here, here the psalmist says something completely different. Here the Psalmist says God has made you a little lower than God’s own self and has crowned you with glory and honor.

You are worthy, you are loved, you have dignity, you have power even; not because of what awards you’ve won, what degrees you’ve obtained, or what work you’ve produced, but because God has bestowed them upon you as a child of God, made in the image of God. You are loved and you are enough, just as you are.

It sounds so simple and yet scandalous. It’s not what our culture screams at us, and it might even be a little offensive to some. In our society today, we have been told and bought into the lie that our worth depends on our work. That we are what we achieve. And while it is true that work can give value and dignity, meaning and purpose; It is always secondary to the work and word of God, who created every human being in Their own image, inherently bestowing value and dignity and love and purpose upon each person first and foremost, completely independent of someone’s work or production or success. You are loved and enough just as you are. Full stop.

Perhaps we see this best in the creation story. God worked six days, creating humanity on that sixth day and called it very good, the first and only time God does that. The next day God rested. That in and of itself is remarkable. Rest had not yet been created. Up until now, it was only work, evening and morning, creating around the clock. But on the 7th day, God rested.

What then is the first act of humankind on the seventh day? Rest, not work! God invited them to join in this divine rest, to look around not at all they had done, not their production or work or success. But to see all that God had done, and to bask in it’s goodness. The first gift God gives creation isn’t work or a task, but rest, grace, love. It’s the gift of knowing that apart from what we do or do not do, we are given glory and honor by our Creator.

The word, the advice, the hope, the encouragement I want to share with that graduate who’s open house I went to, with the overachiever, the underachiever, the graduate thrilled about the job they’ve landed, the one scared to death because they’ve landed nothing,

the one with endless awards, and the one who received none, and the word I have for retirees struggling to feel worth apart from their work, or those unhappy with the work they have, or those laid off from work, is simply this: you are loved and you are enough just as you are; you are crowned with glory and honor, because God made you so.

Maybe that will be on a graduation card some day. Amen.

John 20:19-23

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

When Katelyn and I lived in New Jersey, we fell in love with Pennsylvania Dutch markets. Often hidden in unassuming strip malls, these vibrant markets were full of different vendors selling the most delicious food. The one closest to us was only open three days a week so we didn’t get to go often, but we loved it when we got the chance. We’d grab a few items we’d need for the week and on the way out, get one very special treat: a pretzel log. We’d watch as they rolled the dough, stuffed them with all sorts of unhealthy goodness, and placed them in the oven, our mouths watering the whole time.

One day after helping a friend move, I was near the market and swung in for lunch. Instantly the smell of a pretzel log, overflowing with cheese and bacon, lured me to the booth. I bought two logs with good intentions: I would eat mine now and have Katelyn’s waiting for her when she woke up to go to work. Well I ate mine on the way home.

And then by some irresistible force, the second pretzel log called out to me. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I tore into that other pretzel, polishing it off faster than the first, left the bag on the counter and proceeded to study with a full belly. Later that day when Katelyn woke up for work, a night shift nurse at the time, solely supporting us through seminary, she saw the bag. She asked if I went to the market and if so why I didn’t bring her back something. A rush of guilt came over me. I told every excuse I could think of. I didn’t know what you would want. I wasn’t sure if they had what you liked. But she saw through my every excuse. She picked up the bag, put it in the trash, and simply said, “we both know you’re wrong, but I forgive you.”

The resurrected Jesus says to his disciples, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained”. For most of us, forgiveness is a nice idea. It’s something we want to practice, but it’s also really hard. And, if we are honest, we don’t always know what it is or how to do it. Forgiveness is not just forgetting what took place. We don’t suddenly stop remembering the hurt that happened to us nor should we.

We may pretend to, but the harm will reappear, likely causing as much hurt as the first time around. Forgiveness isn’t wrapping ourselves in bandages of time, waiting until the wounds have scarred. Sometimes that can help, but there is hurt we can cause or receive that time alone cannot heal. Forgiveness requires more than just the passing of hours, days, or years.

And forgiveness isn’t merely the words, “I forgive you”; it requires action on the part of both the forgiver and the sinner.

So back to the pretzel log story. It sounds like such a small example, but here she was working night shift, supporting her husband so he can go to class and read and write papers 24/7,

and he took from her the one thing that would have brightened up her day just a little bit on her way to a job she did not like. Yet, she didn’t scold me, or punish me, or demand I get her another pretzel log, all things she was in the right to do.

Instead, She gave up those rights, which is the first action required in forgiveness. And after she gave up her rights, she gave notice of my sin. “We both know you're wrong”, she said to me in a calm, almost sly, manner. She didn’t pile on the guilt or yell, “how dare you eat the pretzel log you bought with my money!” which was true! She simply told me what I did was wrong; the second action of forgiveness.

Finally, she gave me a gift, namely love when I didn’t deserve it and expected nothing in return.

Like a tool, she used forgiveness to put back together our fractured relationship that I had severed with my selfish sin. And that’s what forgiveness is: giving up rights, giving notice, and giving gifts; A tool that rebuilds a broken relationship.

We see and experience this forgiveness best in Jesus Christ. Becoming fleshing, he gave up his rights, as Ephesians 2 says “he emptied himself taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death - even death on a cross”.

And it’s there on the cross that he gave notice of our sins because that’s what put him there; his full of mercy and justice and love, shows the depth of sin in and around us. And yet, from the cross and in his resurrection he gave gifts: gifts of grace and hope and life eternal when we deserved none of it. “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”. “As much as you could sin, so much did Jesus forgive you”. Always has. Always will.

Yet, some of us have experienced more serious sins than a stolen pretzel log; we’ve been hurt in ways or been hurt too many times, that we are unsure if we can forgive. After all, we aren’t Jesus. I agree with Walt Wangerin who said,

“This is the human predicament: we are able to sin infinitely against one another, but we are able to forgive only finitely. Left to ourselves alone, forgiveness will run out long before the sinning does [because] we are not able to forgive equal to another’s sinning - not when such giving must come solely from ourselves.”

Thankfully, forgiveness is not just a tool able to put ruptured relationships back together, but a power tool with a source of power that comes from outside of ourselves. “Receive the Holy Spirit”, Jesus said to his disciples as he filled their lungs with his very presence. That’s the power, the true source that enables us to forgive the sins of others. It’s the Holy Spirit, dwelling in you, that makes known Jesus’ limitless forgiveness for you; no matter the mistakes you’ve made, the choices you chose, or the hurt you’ve caused. Jesus is the well of forgiveness that never runs dry.

And once you know once you have experienced that balm for your sin sick soul, you also are able to share that forgiveness with your spouse, your friend, your parent, your child, your neighbor, and even your enemies. To be clear, when Jesus commissions the disciples and us to forgive or retain sins, he doesn’t make us divine agents able to produce forgiveness that reconciles a relationship between someone else and God. Only Jesus does that and it’s already been done. That’s why during the absolution in worship the pastor “declares” your forgiveness;

I get to tell you the good news, but it’s Christ who’s actually done the work.

The forgiveness that Jesus commissions the disciples for, and us for, is the forgiveness that reconciles relationships between individuals. There are other types of forgiveness that are different, such as forgiveness between races or institutions or nations; but that’s another sermon for another time.

For this sermon, it's enough to say that like the disciples, we too have been given what we need to forgive. But whether we do it or not, whether we forgive or retain is up to us. And the good news, or bad news depending on how you look at it, is that ultimately God forgives all the sin and reconciles all things to God’s self anyway, whether it’s in this life or the life to come. So why retain them?

Instead, offer a pretzel log, use that power tool of forgiveness, and repair what’s been broken.

What Should be on Graduation Cards

Pretzel Logs and a Power Tool