August 22, 2021. After some of his disciples had turned back, Jesus asked the others if anyone else wanted to turn back also. Peter responded, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Sometimes turning back seems like it would be so much easier. Running away can be so tempting. But even when we are ready to quit, God will always be present. Readings: Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18, John 6:56-69 *** Transcript *** “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” We most often hear these words, as we did a few minutes ago, in a song as the prelude to our gospel reading, framed with alleluias, praising the God who we know brings life. I don’t know about you, but in that context it is easy to sort of romanticize the phrase, experience it as a purely joyful introduction to the good news of the gospel that we just heard. I've often received it as a reminder that God’s word brings life, as it certainly does. This gospel acclamation calls us, in not only the words but the dancing beauty of its music, to celebrate the promise of God in the words to come. In our gospel reading today however, we have just heard this question in its full context, and as so often happens, the context changes everything. Peter and the other disciples have been following Jesus for a while, and as Jesus teaches them, some of what he has said has gotten hard. Yes, God feeds God’s people, Jesus says. Knowing that is so important to understanding who God is. And, there is so much more. God brings abundance and life that often comes through and after struggle. The life that God provides for us embraces the confusion (I imagine the disciples were feeling that in spades today), pain, and even death, that is part of our human experience, and it carries us beyond that. And some of Jesus’ followers, hearing this reality, turned back. It was just too confusing, too hard, too much to take. Jesus asks the remaining disciples if they want to turn back also, and that is when Peter speaks these words. It’s hard. It's painful even. And sometimes, turning back seems like it would be so much easier. But we’ve come so far already. Where else would we go? When I was at a low point in seeking first call, this gospel reading came up in the lectionary, and my pastor at the time highlighted these words for me. In spite of the challenges, road blocks, and even heartbreak that the journey sometimes brought, my answer to Jesus’ question had to be the same as Peter’s. Not because it was easy, or clear, but because being true to myself, and God’s call and direction in my life, was in the end the only option. Where else would I go? And yet, as I suspect many of you have experienced, turning back or running away can be so tempting. It can seem like the best thing to do, for all concerned. As I mentioned last week, Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King felt that way. Colleagues and friends in Minneapolis felt that way often last summer as they came together over days, weeks, and months to join the call for justice for George Floyd, and they continue to recover from the trauma and build community in new ways. And in 2014, soon-to-be Lutheran pastor and Ferguson uprising activist Elle Dowd felt the same way. Elle has written a book, Baptized in Tear Gas, about her experience in Ferguson following the death of Michael Brown, and the many lessons she as a white woman learned from her black companions as they stayed the course in the midst of the violence, grief, and discouragement they faced every day of that long year. On the November evening when the announcement was made that Michael Brown’s murderer was to be freed without consequence, Elle found herself with peaceful activists fleeing from tear gas and flash bombs, and sought refuge at Christ Church Cathedral to change clothes and re-ground herself in the God who had transformed her over the many months she spent on the streets that summer and winter. I think we're all feeling the weight of the brokenness of this world these days, in different ways. The reality of racism that reveals itself more and more in our country and our communities. The devastation of the earthquake in Haiti. The horror of Afghanistan, where the oppressive Taliban regime has taken over again. The reality of climate change, revealed in detail in recent reports. The grief and trauma of a pandemic, that not only hasn’t waned as we'd hoped, but seems to be worse than ever, just in time for school to begin again. Add to that other natural challenges of life — illness, work, family circumstances, mental health challenges, death, and grief — and it can be too much to carry. I know there are some and suspect there are many, among us here gathered, who are wondering how to find the energy to keep going. Jesus is telling his disciples he understands all of this. Jesus knows how hard the road is. He knows just how badly we want to quit, sometimes. And we know from last week’s story of Elijah that God knows we may not be able to take another step forward until we take a step back and grab a snack and a nap. Jesus knows that some of his followers had already decided they needed to turn back, and he offers those left the same choice. And Peter responds. Peter makes a choice, to follow God even when it seems impossible. Just like the people of Israel, led by Joshua, made a choice to serve God, and Elijah made a choice to rest and then continue the journey. Peter made a choice, to continue to trust Jesus even when it doesn’t seem to make any sense. All of these stories, from Israel to Jerusalem to Selma to Minneapolis to Ferguson, show us that we are in community if we are following God. Even when we are ready to quit, God will always be present, offering a snack and a nap. And there will always be someone among us who is ready to make the claim just when we can't: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Fall is a season of transition, leading us to new classrooms or schools, new routines, even change in the weather. It can be exciting, anxiety-producing, joy-filled, and overwhelming. Whatever challenges and hopes stand before you today, whatever griefs you are holding, whatever struggles seem too much to bear, whatever unknowns you face with fear, anxiety, joy, and anticipation, in this season, this promise is for us. This claim of Peter’s is so much more than a call to recognize the life to be found in our scriptures. In this passage from John, Jesus meets his disciples at the center of their struggle. And Jesus’ presence, his question, and Peter’s response is a profound reminder of God’s presence, life, and abundance that holds true even when the road is so hard we want to turn back. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18, John 6:56-69, Elle Dowd, Baptized in Tear Gas, COVID-19, coronavirus

August 8, 2021. When Elijah has hit the wall in 1 Kings, God shows up and provides exactly what he needs. No judgment, no expectations, no requirement that Elijah pretend to be energetic and strong when he is clearly not. Just understanding, bread and water, and permission to rest. We all know that feeling of exhaustion, and in her sermon today Pastor Meagan reminds us how encouraging it is to know that God understands it too. Readings: 1 Kings 19:4-8, Ephesians 4:25–5:2, John 6:35, 41-51 *** Transcript *** Elijah has been on a really long, hard journey — one that is far from over — and he is exhausted. He has been doing what he knows God is calling him to do, speaking truth to power in the form of the king. Elijah is one of the only faithful prophets left alive, and they want to kill him too. Worse, Elijah feels that he has failed God. He is, frankly, ready to die, and he has no qualms about letting God know that. Then Elijah does the only thing he can do: he lays down and takes a nap. And God sends an angel to him there, bearing exactly what he needed. Not once but twice, the angel wakes Elijah so that he can eat bread so fresh it’s still warm, and drink water. And once he has eaten, and drank, and slept, he travels 40 days and 40 nights on the strength of that food, to Mount Horeb. The rest, water, and bread do not shorten the journey or eliminate the threat to Elijah’s life, but it is exactly what Elijah needs to give him the strength to make it through. We all feel it sometimes: that feeling that, whatever our journey, whatever the struggle, it’s just too much to handle. We have tried to keep going, and finally we just can’t do it. Some years ago, when I was going through a really hard time on a really long journey, I got a call from my Aunt Kathie saying she was coming over because she had something for me. When she and her friend arrived, Kathie handed me a painting that she had painted herself for me. I looked at it, stunned that she had done this for me. And then she said, “Its name is Hope.” And her friend said, determinedly, “And its other name is Meagan.” In that moment, I don’t think there is anything that could have meant more to me than that painting, and the sentiment behind it. When I was at the end of my proverbial rope, God gave me just what I needed, through the hands and hearts of these two women. The journey I was on was far from over and there were more struggles to come, but this gift was exactly what I needed to buoy my sagging spirit and rest my tired soul so I could keep going. Just when I had reached a point of feeling like it might be time to give up, I was quite literally given the gift of Hope. In one of my favorite scenes in the movie “Selma,” Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., like Elijah, feels like he has failed, and is about ready to quit. During their first attempt to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge, the marchers were brutally attacked, and more than one person lost their life. Dr. King is exhausted, feels responsible for what has happened, and can’t fathom asking people to make that sacrifice again. He shares the struggle with John Lewis, at the time a young local leader, and in response John tells Dr. King about a time when he felt that way too, and on the darkest morning made his way to church to hear Dr. King preach. Dr. King doesn’t remember it, so John Lewis tells him what he said: “Fear not. We’ve come too far to turn back now.” Dr. King’s words were exactly what a young John Lewis needed to keep going, and some years later John Lewis returned the words to Dr. King, giving him the strength to continue the journey. Fear not. We’ve come too far to turn back now. We all know that feeling of exhaustion, we all have those stories, and it is so encouraging to know that God understands it too. When Elijah has hit the wall, God shows up and provides exactly what he needs. No judgment, no expectation that Elijah will immediately leap up and keep going, no requirement that Elijah pretend to be energetic and strong when he is clearly not. Just understanding, bread and water, permission to rest — before continuing 40 days and 40 nights to Mount Horeb. Perhaps this is some of what Paul is talking about in his letter to the Ephesians. Be honest, be angry, but don’t sin, and let God work through you for the good of all. And Jesus tells his followers today, one more time, on this third week of bread, that God provides everything we need. We are so intimately connected with God’s abundance, that in Christ we will never be hungry again. The journey is long and hard sometimes, and God is with us all the way. In turning to God, we find the bread we need to keep going, spiritually, physically, emotionally. How is it with your soul today? What weariness and struggle are you living with that needs to be honestly shared? What do you need to rest and nourish your body and spirit so that you can continue the journey? What bread, water, and sleep can you offer to others who are too tired to keep going? We have two more weeks of Jesus’ bread of life discourse left, and still the message remains the same. God provides what we need, sometimes in the ways we least expect. Fear not. We’ve come too far to turn back now. There is always enough, and more. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, 1 Kings 19:4-8, Ephesians 4:25–5:2, John 6:35, 41-51, Selma

July 4, 2021. On this Independence Day, as we celebrate the birth of this particular nation, Jesus models for us the truth that our identity and call as children of God always comes over and above the labels placed on us, even and perhaps especially the labels of nation and country. Readings: Ezekiel 2:1-5, 2 Corinthians 12:2-10, Mark 6:1-13 *** Transcript *** Recently I pulled out my yearbook from my senior year in high school and looked at the “Senior Poll” section. Remember that? “First married.” “Last married.” “Most respectful.” “Biggest flirt.” “Talkative.” “Biggest mess.” “Most likely to succeed.” And then there was my name, next to “most serious.” I hadn’t remembered that my classmates saw me that way, and in many ways it’s hard to imagine now. But looking back at how seriously I took things most of the time, it makes sense. My youngest brother, in contrast, wore his humor and lightness on the outside, and I realized somewhere along the way that that often made it hard to take him seriously — we so often expected a joke or a laugh from him, that I think his more earnest side was missed a lot of the time. These perceptions, or labels, or expectations can come out of how we show up in the world, and they can also come to define or constrict us as well. We become “the serious one.” We become “the funny one.” On this Independence Day, I'm reminded of Abraham Lincoln, one of our most well-known and respected presidents, who was for years seen as a failure. He lived with sometimes debilitating mental illness, and lost far more elections than he won on his way to becoming President of the United States. Albert Einstein, brilliant scientist famous for defining the theory of relativity, was a horrible student in his younger days, and in fact there was actually concern that he might have a learning disability that prevented him from learning in academic settings. The labels placed on them may have had some basis in truth — Lincoln did experience many failures, and Einstein did struggle in school — but ultimately, the labels placed on them did not fit the fullness of who they would become. Jesus, in today’s gospel, faces the reality of the labels attached to him by those who have known him longest and best. Hearing the powerful wisdom of his teaching and seeing the miracles he is capable of (Jesus, after all, has just returned from healing Jairus’s daughter and the woman with hemorrhaging), they can’t reconcile what they know of Jesus, their neighbor, with what they are seeing now. “This is Joseph and Mary’s son,” his family and neighbors say. “We know him, and his siblings.” They insist that he is the carpenter’s son, nothing more, nothing less. Who does he think he is, trying to be anything different? Defying all of their expectations, Jesus unapologetically claims his identity and call as the Son of God. Who he is as the son of a carpenter and a Nazarene comes after that, and this disturbs his family and neighbors, who expect him to claim his place in Nazareth first, above all else. They want him to be the carpenter’s son. As theologian Debie Thomas writes in her blog this week, Jesus refuses to stay in his lane, and persists in sharing the truth of God that he has come to proclaim. Mark tells us that his friends and neighbors, blinded by their perceptions and expectations of who Jesus is, are unable to see the amazing things he embodies about the love and mercy of God. This is such a human thing we do, isn’t it? We as humans have an unfortunate habit of placing our expectations and limits, on ourselves and on one another, and that can blind us to the truth of who God has created us to be. We all have expectations, conscious or not, of others, based on what we know about them — immigration situation, level of education, religion, socio-economic status, or even, assuming they are from St. Louis, what high school they went to. It’s more comfortable, isn’t it, when we know what to expect. Jesus refused to stay in the lane created for him and claimed his identity in God, much to the chagrin of those around him who knew exactly what to do with Jesus, Joseph and Mary’s son, but had no idea what to do with Jesus, Son of God. Jesus refused to stay in his lane, even knowing that there would be those who would reject him because of that. And he prepares his disciples for that reality, telling them that as they go out to carry the gospel that God has given them to embody in the world, there will be those who will refuse to hear the good news they have to share. Jesus advises his disciples to shake the dust off their feet, the dust of rejection, and claim the truth of God’s call and promise that remains even when others can’t see it. God shares the same wisdom with Ezekiel, saying that when he brings the word of God to the people of Israel there will be those who will refuse to hear, but that rejection will not make Ezekiel any less a prophet. Being our imperfect, vulnerable, unique selves does not stop us being a prophet either. Paul reminds the Corinthians of this as he shares about the “thorn in his side” that he can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. We don’t know what the thorn is, but Paul does make it clear that being God’s beloved is not about being perfect, but about God’s claiming us and showing us who we are. When we see ourselves and those around us as God sees us — children of God — God frees us from the mistakes that we make and tells us that being human does not equal worthlessness. God frees us from those labels and expectations, and we can experience the surprising and amazing things that God is doing in and around us. That “most likely to succeed” or “fail,” that “most serious” label in the high school yearbook, doesn’t have the power to predict what use God will make of us and our lives. Just as our identities as children, parents, siblings, friends, abled or disabled, gender, ethnicity, St. Louis native or transplant, married or single, and all of the other identities that we carry are part of who we are, but they can never fully define us. On this Independence Day, as we celebrate the birth of this particular nation, Jesus models for us the truth that our identity and call as children of God always comes over and above the labels placed on us, even and perhaps especially the labels of nation and country. Shaking off the dust of expectations and rejection allows us, all of us, to live into the fullness of who God calls us to be, and opens our hearts to experience the miracles of God all around us, just when we least expect it. Whatever other labels we carry, we are first and foremost beloved of God. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Ezekiel 2:1-5, 2 Corinthians 12:2-10, Mark 6:1-13, Debie Thomas, Journey with Jesus

May 16, 2021. Today's sermon is on the prayer Jesus offers in John 17 for his disciples before his arrest, and how it is remarkably vulnerable and intimate. Readings: John 17:6-19 *** Transcript *** As we are coming to the end of the Easter Season this year, I've been thinking back to February of last year, when we were hearing only whispers of what was to come. March 22nd, we held our first Zoom worship, thinking it would be a few weeks, a couple of months at most. We had no idea at that time the losses this year would bring, the trauma we might experience, and we certainly had no idea how long it would last. Easter, Pentecost, Advent, Christmas, and Lent and Easter again have passed since we last worshipped in person. And here we are on the 7th Sunday of Easter, and our gospel for today comes from John 17, before Jesus died. In fact, the prayer we hear Jesus pray today are the last words Jesus had for his disciples in the Gospel of John prior to his arrest. Although they don’t realize it, as Jesus is praying this prayer, the disciples are about to have their whole world turned upside down. They don’t know that Jesus, who they have been following for three years, who they believed would free them all from Roman occupation, is going to be arrested and die a horrific death. They don’t know that the next 24 hours will bring an abrupt change to everything they thought they understood about how things were going to be and what they thought Jesus was going to do. The disciples, not knowing that this would be the last meal they would eat with their friend and mentor, had no context for Jesus’s words, and I can imagine them listening, turning to one another, and whispering to each other, “What on earth is Jesus talking about? What does he mean, he’s no longer in the world? He’s sitting right here. Of course he belongs here. We have work to do. We have plans.” We listen to these words some 2,000 years later, and knowing what was going to happen, we can see what Jesus is trying to do here — offer comfort, reassurance, and hope for the days to come, turning his beloveds over to God for the journey ahead. As Mr. Jesse pointed out, that is something that never changes. John’s gospel doesn’t often reveal Jesus’ human vulnerability the way the other gospels do. John passes over the agony in the garden, and does everything he can to describe Jesus as fully in control, subject to no one, even choosing for himself the moment of his death. The prayer Jesus offers for his disciples before his arrest, however, is remarkably vulnerable, and intimate. Jesus tells God as he prays that he can’t be with his disciples anymore. And as often as we see God’s expansiveness, in this moment Jesus is praying not for everyone, but for his beloveds. His apostles. Jesus knows the horror, grief, and danger that his death will bring for those closest to him. And Jesus asks God to be with them, to protect them, knowing that he is called to move on, and trusting that ultimately, God is our source. Debie Thomas writes in her blog this week, “ 'I am asking,' Jesus says. How surprising is it that God incarnate spends his final moments with his friends in humble supplication on their behalf? Knowing full well the trials and terrors that lie ahead, he prays into uncertainty. He hopes into doubt. He trusts into danger.” When we think of Jesus teaching us to pray, we of course think first of the Lord’s Prayer, that clear, beautiful, profession of praise, confession, thanksgiving, and request that we and Christians around the world pray every week. In these final moments of Jesus’s life on earth, Jesus is once more teaching us to pray — all of his beloveds, but in this moment, especially us. You. You and I are invited to receive Jesus’ prayer for us. To know that God is with us. And as Mr. Jesse pointed out, that that's one thing that never changes. To claim the promise of joy and unity and trust in the midst of things we can’t begin to control or even understand. As hard as this last year has been, as unprepared as we were for all that has happened, God has been with us. What would have been unimaginable last February has become in many ways comfortable and familiar to us, as we have settled into rhythms of life in a pandemic. And now, things are changing again, as happens in life. We feel excitement, curiosity, and anxiety and fear as we make decisions for ourselves and our families about how and when to return to in-person activities. We are learning that even something we long deeply for, gathering together with people we love dearly and have missed this last year, is not easy, and can be stressful in ways we find surprising. New life is coming as families anticipate the birth of babies in the coming months. Grief circles back, as we who have grieved the deaths of loved ones on our own now have opportunities to gather together with others who share our losses. And today we celebrate and bless our graduates, who have navigated their final years of high school and college in the pandemic, and are prepared in unique ways for the joys and challenges to come. Graduates, Jesus’ prayer is for you especially today. As we step into the uncertainties, the new life, the grief, the joy, the anxiety, today we take time to let Jesus’s prayer settle on us like a blanket. Rest in the promise that God will be present even in the face of the challenges that come. Settle in the joy of knowing that God’s love cannot be erased, as Mr. Jese pointed out. Embrace the unity that comes from knowing that God has given us into a community that embodies this love, through all the challenges of life, even in the face of a pandemic. As Mr. Jesse pointed out, we are here for each other. We have been, and we continue to be. Let go in the face of uncertainty. Ask that God be with us. Trust that God will take care of us and those we love, no matter what happens. Today, we sit with Jesus, and say once again, “Teach us to pray.” Amen. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, John 17:6-19, Debie Thomas, Jesse Helton, COVID-19, pandemic, coronavirus

May 2, 2021. In today's sermon we learn more about the story from Acts chapter 8 of Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch — the foreign, dark-skinned person who does not conform to gender norms — and ask what is to prevent us or anyone from being baptized. Readings: Acts 8:26-40, John 15:1-8 *** Transcript *** In the relatively new, but definitely classic Disney movie “Zootopia,” bunny Judy Hopps has always been… different. In a world that claims to be inclusive — where anyone can be anything — Zootopia is still largely divided into predator and prey, and you are expected to fit in to whichever group you are born into. So it is assumed that Judy the bunny will do what her entire bunny family has always done — farm carrots. But Judy knows she was born to be a police officer. Her passion for making the world a better place gets her into trouble with bullies, who want to knock her down, and her parents, who wish she would settle for the easy road and not make things so hard for herself and them. In spite of the challenges, Judy does become a police officer, but finds that her colleagues don’t take her seriously, and her chief relegates her to parking duty. As the story unfolds, Judy stumbles onto an unsolved case, and in trying to solve it, she becomes friends with Nick Wilde, a fox. Judy unwittingly hurts Nick deeply when her own tendency to see all predators as dangerous “others” gets the best of her. She realizes that while she has struggled to claim her place as a bunny police officer, Nick has been rejected his whole life because people didn’t believe a predator like him could ever belong anywhere — and Judy herself wasn’t as ready to embrace Nick the fox as she had thought. In the gospels, Jesus often calls people to recognize the walls they have put up between them and others. He shocks by making an outsider, the Good Samaritan, the hero of a parable, and eats with all kinds of people seen as “other.” Jesus is always reaching to the margins and once, Jesus himself gets called out when he refuses to help the Syrophoenician woman whose daughter is ill, and she tells him: even the dogs get to eat the scraps from the table. Of course, Jesus then heals the girl. And I have often wondered, was Jesus trying to teach us a lesson in what not to do, or did he in his humanity also need to be taught? In the early days of what would become the Christian church, chronicled in the Book of Acts that provides our first readings in the Easter season, the followers of Jesus debated about who could belong and who couldn’t belong, and what they had to do to belong. The Spirit kept showing them that all people are children of God and welcome into God’s promises. After the initial coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the Spirit anointed a group of gentiles, and that led to their baptism, if only because the Apostles could hardly deny baptism to people God had so clearly chosen. In the heat of debate about whether or not following Judaic dietary laws should be required, Peter had a dream in which God revealed to him that no one should be excluded from the fellowship for what they eat. Over and over, the gospel expands the circle, continually challenging us to welcome those who seem outside. The promises of baptism are for all people, but especially for those on the margins. Today’s story is no different. The Ethiopian Eunuch, although he was a Jew and he carried some power and authority in the court in which he served, was an outsider on many counts. He was a foreigner, he was viewed as “exotic” because of his dark skin, and he'd been surgically altered — possibly by force — so that he was outside of gender norms. None of that prevents the Spirit from guiding Philip to head to the south, follow a deserted road, find a random chariot, and join the Eunuch as he studied Isaiah. Philip shares the gospel with him, and it never occurs to the Eunuch that it might not be for him. They pass by water, and the Eunuch speaks a profound statement of faith: “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” What indeed? There was water, and the Word of God. And then and there, the Eunuch and Philip claim that the promises of God have no limits. We don’t know anything else of the Ethiopian Eunuch, except that he goes on his way rejoicing. It strikes me that, as an Ethiopian, dark-skinned, high court official, he is in the perfect position to carry the good news to new lands. The Spirit, I believe, didn’t send Philip to the Eunuch in spite of who he was, but because he was uniquely equipped to embody the love, forgiveness, and faithfulness of a God who knows no boundaries. The Eunuch knew without question that God’s promises were for him, in all his uniqueness. Judy Hopps knew without question that she was uniquely equipped to make the world a better place as a bunny police officer, no matter what anyone else thought. As colleagues and I gathered this week to reflect on these texts, we wondered, what would it look like if we lived the truth that all people really are fully included in the gospel? We realized that we pray for this every week, in the Lord’s Prayer, asking that God’s kingdom and will be done on earth... not just for some, but for all creation. It means letting go of needing to understand, needing to gate-keep, needing to have some control over how things look and how they are done. It means letting go of our own vision and embracing God’s vision instead. We humans will never fully be able to grasp it in this life, but we do get glimpses, and it is the gospel nevertheless. My colleagues and I recognized the power of the gospel to heal and transform us and our communities, no matter how imperfectly we embody it. We shared from the witness of our own lives and those we care for that when God’s expansive love is embraced and embodied in people around us, it can actually reduce the depression, isolation, and even risk of suicide that comes from being systematically cast out. The challenge of all this is that, for those of us who “fit” easily in different ways, embracing the expansiveness of the gospel, allowing the Spirit to remove the walls and barriers that leave others outside, means being willing to be uncomfortable. Judy was really uncomfortable as she faced her own prejudices and saw the harm that she had done, and she and Nick had to have really hard conversations. In the end, the walls within them and between them that kept them from being who they were created to be fell apart as they claimed their truth. And as easy as it seems for Philip to seek out the Eunuch and baptize him, that was clearly the work of the Spirit, sending and snatching and sending again. And we know from all of the stories of the early church just how much conflict, confusion, and even anger had to be worked through as the Spirit revealed herself to them. Like Judy and Nick, and the people of the early church, we today continue to come up against our own walls and barriers, and the Spirit continues to blow through and take them down because she will not be contained. Today we celebrate the good news of a God so expansive that she embraces a foreign, dark-skinned person who does not conform to gender norms, and connects us all to one another and themselves as surely as branches connect to the vine to receive life and nourishment. Like Mr. Jesse pointed out, we are connected to God, and to each other, and all of creation. The gift of this is that we can help one another feel the expansiveness and connectedness of the love of God when we can’t sense it for ourselves. Beyond anything else, it is what we were created to do. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Acts 8:26-40, John 15:1-8