Tag Archives: year B

Let All Creation Praise – companion site

Our ecumenical companion site, www.LetAllCreationPraise.org ,   is maintained by long-time supporter and fellow Lutheran restoring creation, Nick Utphall.     This site is an online library of commentaries, hymns, worship samples and devotions which speak to a wide variety of Christian faiths.  Rev. Utphall is pastor at Madison Christian Community in Wisconsin. Check out their site for more testimonials of working together to celebrate all of God’s gifts.

Let All Creation Praise! – companion site

Our ecumenical companion site, www.LetAllCreationPraise.org ,   is maintained by long-time supporter and fellow Lutheran restoring creation, Nick Utphall.     This site is an online library of commentaries, hymns, worship samples and devotions which speak to a wide variety of Christian faiths.  Rev. Utphall is pastor at Madison Christian Community in Wisconsin. Check out their site for more testimonials of working together to celebrate all of God’s gifts.

Microscopic – Lost in Wonder, Love, and Praise

Micro-Creation Service Bulletin – Click here – free to share! (wonderful readings, music, etc.)

Homily by Pastor Susan Henry, House of Prayer Lutheran Church – Hingham MA

Pentecost 13 B Creation  – –  August 19, 2018

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and from our Lord Jesus Christ.

Lost in Wonder, Love, and Praise

Because I was appalled at the prospect of dissecting a frog, I never took biology. My study of living organisms hasn’t been academic, but it has led me to love life, to stand in awe of God’s creative impulses and energy, and, lately, to feel more and more connected not just with human life, but with all of life.

I wasn’t in a biology lab, but I learned about dinosaurs, insects, and sea creatures because I was teaching four-year-olds about them. I know chicken anatomy because whole chickens are cheaper than chicken parts, so I long ago learned how to cut them up. I’ve milked goats and stirred a microbe-rich culture into that milk to make yogurt, and I’ve watched and smelled yeast at work in fragrant, rising bread dough. Most of what I know about plants comes either from gardening, being in the woods, or drawing what I see around me. Really, what I know about biology is more like having a pocketful of seeds, twigs, and shells than knowing where everything fits in a grand scheme. But, as a hymn puts it, I’m “lost in wonder, love, and praise.”

This is the third of three summer worship services that have been turning our hearts and minds to God the Creator “of all that is, seen and unseen” – the God of galaxies so vast and so distant it’s hard to wrap our minds around them, the God of forests that breathe in the carbon dioxide we have exhaled and then breathe out the oxygen we will inhale, the God of a fungal network so infinitesimal that 800 miles of it runs through the soil beneath just one footstep that we take. Really, the mind boggles!

The biblical writers knew nothing of micro-organisms, of course, but they too were lost in wonder, love and praise: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” “How great are your works, O Lord! Your thoughts are very deep!” Both worship and study can draw our attention to what we might often take for granted about God’s awe-inspiring, gracious, creative work made known in human and other-than-human life.

At Bible study Thursday morning, we read today’s verses from scripture, and then we sat in awe of how our bodies are able to heal when we get a cut or break a bone. We laughed in amazement at the number of cherry tomatoes a mere three plants can produce from three tiny seeds. We pondered what we can see through a telescope and what is far beyond our seeing. We caught a glimpse of how everything is connected, how everything belongs. We were lost in wonder, love, and praise.

It’s good for us to intentionally focus on the marvels of creation and on the Creator of all that exists. It’s good for us to contemplate how interrelated all of life is, so that we can honor, respect, and protect what God has made and continues to create. It’s good for us to acknowledge how the Earth suffers when we fail to care for God’s creation, so that we can confess “what we have done and left undone” and so that we can change our ways.

Our reflection today about “the zoo in you” comes from Larry Rasmussen, a Lutheran ethicist who teaches at Union Theological Seminary in New York City. He too is lost in wonder, love and praise when he considers the sacredness of the web of life of which we are a part. But out of a passion for the well-being of that whole web of life, he is calling us to a life of faith that honors not only human life, but the life of the Earth itself. We’ve not been very good at that. We humans most often see our planet through the lens of how it can be useful to us, and we’ve gotten quite adept at consuming Earth’s resources – often without considering the consequences of what we do. Never before in Earth’s history have human actions been able to have such a massive impact on the web of life on Earth. That is no small thing.

People of faith bring a perspective to this situation that is grounded in knowing and loving God who creates, redeems and sustains us. And although we do think of God as the creator of all life, we probably haven’t thought much about God’s redeeming and sustaining work for the sake of all of life, for the sake of the web of life itself. Even less have we considered what it might ask of us to honor God’s desires for the well-being of all life.

Well-being, wholeness, fullness of life, flourishing, completeness, harmony, peace – this is the future God is drawing us toward. Scripture uses the word “shalom” to speak of this kind of life. We can also recall Jesus’ many parables about the kingdom of God. People kept asking Jesus, “What is the kingdom of God like? What is life like where what God desires is how life actually is?”

One time, Jesus said, “[The kingdom of God] is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Now, you may find that as enigmatic a response as the Bible study group did, but that’s the nature of parables. Jesus didn’t hand out easy answers but instead left his hearers puzzling over his words, taking them back home with them, pondering what yeast is and what someone did and what the result was – and what all that has to do with wholeness and well-being and flourishing.
Among other things, perhaps Jesus was calling his followers to be leaven in the loaf of their society, to help create something life-sustaining and God-honoring. People of faith like us today can be the leaven mixed into critical discussions and decisions about the well-being of the Earth and about the flourishing of all life – the leaven, the soil, the wheat, the baker, and those who share the bread. In living out such an Earth-honoring faith, we may discover that the kingdom of God has come near.

Amen

Christ the King Sunday, Year B (Ormseth)

The priesthood of all believers means that we are “priests” of all creation.

By Dennis Ormseth

Reading for Series B: 2011-2012

Christ the King Sunday in Year B

Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14

Psalm 93

Revelation 1:4b-8

John 18:33-37

The long awaited king comes “with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail” (Revelation 1:7). With the texts for the Festival Sunday of Christ the King, the church hears a summation of the gospel of the lectionary narrative of Year B, and a matching mandate for its life under his kingship. Summation and mandate together bring our reflections on care of creation in Year B to an appropriate conclusion with reflections on the nature of Christ’s dominion and the human vocation.

The texts celebrate the “kingship” of Christ as “not from this world” (John 18:36). His kingship is instead a gift from “the Ancient One” (Daniel 7:13-14), the “Alpha and the Omega,” “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Revelation 1:4, 8), source and goal of all that is. But if Christ’s kingdom is not “from this world,” we nonetheless celebrate his kingship as belonging within the world: all the nations of the earth do wail on his account; while “coming with the clouds of heaven,” we read that he is “like a human being,” and he is given “dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him” (Daniel 7:14); and even the non-human creation, represented here by the seas that symbolize the subdued powers of chaos, join in the praise of the Lord who “has established the world; it shall never be moved” (Psalm 93:1-4). If his kingship is celebrated as eternal—worthy of “glory and dominion forever and ever” (Revelation 1:6), it is also universal, that is to say, inclusive of all things in creation, with respect to both time and space (cf. Colossians 1:19).

Key here for our consideration of care of creation, of course, is the characterization of the nature of this “dominion.” That this concept, much discussed in the context of the environmental crisis, does not legitimize “domination” by those who belong to the kingdom over either the human community or the environment, is an assertion we have had repeated occasion to argue in the course of this series of comments in both year A and year B (See especially the comment on the texts for Name of Jesus Sunday). Christ’s is not a kingship which like those “from this world” can be gained or retained by violence; if it were, Jesus says, “my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews” (John 18:36). If this “one like a human being” (Daniel 7:13) is “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” as the author of the Revelation to John reminds us, he is also “faithful witness” and “the first born of the dead,” three phrases that with remarkable economy, as Frank Senn notes, “extoll and proclaim . . . his earthly mission and heavenly minisry” (i.e. his “death, resurrection, and ascension”) (Frank C. Senn, “Christ the King,” New Proclamation Year B, 2000. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000, p. 259). Moreover, his work of love, the text from Revelation reminds us, is to free us “from our sins by his blood,” a clear reference to his death on the cross that recalls the sacrificial image with which we have been constantly engaged in the texts of the lectionary here at the end of the year. Jesus has dominion as king, readers of this series of comments will acknowledge, precisely because he is also the high priest who gave his own blood in the sanctuary of the cosmos, in order to open up the way for us through his body into the very presence of God.

This is of decisive import with respect to God’s love of creation and our care of it: as we concluded in our comment on the readings for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, in the words of Norman Wirzba, “On the cross Jesus encountered the alienating and violent death of this world and transformed it into the self-offering death that leads to resurrection life . . . . In light of his death and resurrection, creation can be seen as an immense altar upon which the incomprehensible, self-offering love of God is daily made manifest” (see our comment on the readings for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost; the quotation is from Wirzba, Food and Faith, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011, p. 125). Futhermore, it is of utmost interest with respect to our role in the care of creation that the author of the Revelation chooses to describe the benefit of Christ’s work for us in terms of priesthood: he has “made us to be a kingdom,” we read, “priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever” (Revelation 1:6). Our role in the kingdom—our membership in it—is in the first instance to be understood as one of exercizing priesthood, which leads us into a discussion of the second grand theme concerning care of creation, namely, definition of the role of the human in creation. (Again we can refer our reader to earlier comments, most recently the one for the Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost).

In our comments on the lectionary for Year A, we showed that an understanding of Jesus as servant of creation correlates with an understanding of the role of humans as servants of creation. We, like he, serve God by serving God’s beloved Earth. Similarly here in Year B, as we have followed to its conclusion the narrative of Jesus’ displacement of the Jerusalem temple as locus where God is present in the world, we have seen the great importance of interpreting his work in terms of the role of high priest; it seems entirely appropriate, accordingly, that in the last set of texts for Year B the image of the priest should also capture the implications of Jesus’ role for our role in relationship to creation. What does it mean, precisely, to consider the human being as priest of creation? And how might that understanding benefit the creation?

Translating the role of the priest in ancient Israel into Christian idiom, Norman Wirzba describes the role of the priest in terms of the “lifting up” of the gifts of bread and wine to God in the Christian Eucharist. As Wirzba writes, following the thought of Orthodox theologian John Zizioulas, the priestly role is . . .

to ‘lift our hearts’ to the place of heaven so that heavenly life can transform life on earth here and now. Heaven is not a far-away place but rather the transformation of every place so that the glory and grace of God are fully evident. When in priestly motion we lift our hearts to God, what we are really doing is giving ourselves and the whole world to the new creation, the ‘new heaven and earth’ (Rev. 21:1), so that our interdependent need can be appreciated as a blessing. As priests we begin to see creation as an altar of God’s offering. The altar becomes the inspiration for our offering of the world and ourselves (Wirzba, p. 206).

Moreover, in exercizing this priestly role, the faithful human being extends the reconciling work of Christ in relationship to all creation. “From the beginning, but also to its end,” in this view, “all creation is the expression of a divine intent that all creatures be whole and at peace, enjoying the Sabbath delight that marks God’s attachment to the world.” This intent is frustrated by humankind’s propensity for “making itself rather than God the center of desire and action. People have used their freedom to manipulate the world to serve their own ends rather than glorify God.” Wirzba sums up the consequences for creation this way: “We prefer to take the world, possess it, and consume it. What we do not realize is that this hoarding gesture, a gesture often founded upon a deep insecurity and anxiety within us, compromises and degrades the giving of God that is the life of the world” (Wirzba, p. 209).

Zizioulas further illumines the understanding of the human being as priest by contrasting it to the more common understanding of the human vocation as stewards of creation. The concept of the steward, he insists, is “managerial,” or “economic”— ‘the idea of arranging things according to and for the sake of expediency.” In the concept of the priest, on the other hand, the human being is related to nature not functionally, as the idea of stewardship would suggest, but ontologically: by being the steward of creation the human being relates to nature by what he [sic] does, whereas by being the priest of creation he relates to nature by what he [sic] is. The implications of this distinction are very signficant. In the case of stewardship our attitude to nature is determined by ethics and morality: if we destroy nature we disobey and transgress a certain law, we become immoral and unethical. In the case of priesthood, in destroying nature we simply cease to be, the consequences of ecological sin are not moral but existential. Ecology is in this way a matter of our esse, not of our bene esse. Our ecological concern becomes in this way far more powerful and efficient than in employing the model of stewardship (John D. Zizioulas, The Eucharistic Communion and the World, ed. by Luke Ben Tallon. London: T & T Clark, 2011, p. 139).

This is highly significant, Zizioulas insists, because the ecological crisis is . . .

due not so much to a wrong ethic as to a bad ethos; it is a cultural problem. In our Western culture we did everything to de-sacralise life, to fill our societies with legislators, moralist and thinkers, and undermined the fact that the human being is also, or rather primarily, a liturgical being, faced from the moment of birth with a world that he or she must treat either as a sacred gift or as raw material for exploitation and use.

An entire reorientation of culture to creation accompanies the commitment to priestly action: “As priests rather than stewards we embrace nature instead of managing it, and although this may sound romantic and sentimental, its deeper meaning is . . . ontological, since this ‘embracing’ of nature amounts to our very being, to our existence” (Zizioulas, p. 140).

Finally, from this perspective, an understanding of the role of the human being as priest of creation supports the careful development of creation beyond what it is naturally. Protection of nature, in Zizioulas view, should not be to be contrary to the development of nature, as it often is in much conservationist understanding. As priest of creation, the human being transforms the material world he takes in his hand . . .

into something better than what it is naturally. Nature must be improved through human intervention; it is not to be preserved as it is. In the Eucharist we do not offer to God simply grain or wheat and grapes, but bread and wine, that is, natural elements developed and transformed through the human labour, in our hands. Ecology is not preservation but development (Zizioulas, p. 140).

How does this differ from the human transformation of nature characteristic of the domination of creation by its human “proprietors”? In a priestly approach to nature, the purpose served by development is not primarily or exclusively the satisfaction of human needs, but rather because nature itself stands in need of development through us in order to fulfil its own being and acquire a meaning which it would not otherwise have. In other words, there is a development of nature which treats it as raw material for production and distribution, and there is a development which treats nature as an entity that must be developed for its own sake. In the latter case, although the human being is not passive, simply preserving or sustaining nature, he is developing nature with respect for its, and not his, interests, taking care of its fragility and its “groaning in travail,” to remember Saint Paul’s moving expression in Roman 8 (Zizioulas, p. 140).

In the Lutheran tradition, the priesthood of all believers has come to mean the inclusion and democratization of all members of Christ’s church in proclamation of the gospel, over against the elevation of the professional clergy. The Reformation protest against the Roman practice of sacrifice in the mass, on the other hand, has precluded fuller appreciation of this role for the Christian believer. With the revisioning of the meaning of sacrifice we have developed in this series of comments, it should be possible to enlist the concept not only for the restoration of creation, but also for the fulfillment of creation.

For care for creation reflections on the overall themes of the lectionary lessons for the month by Trisha K Tull, Professor Emerita of Old Testament, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and columnist for The Working Preacher, visit: http://www.workingpreacher.org/columnist_home.aspx?author_id=288

Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B (Sassaman)

Ecojustice Commentary on the Revised Common Lectionary
Series B: 2017-2018
By Jeremiah Sassaman

The 25th Sunday after Pentecost in Year B,
All Saint’s Sunday 2018, Feast Day of St. Martin of Tours 2018,
Veteran’s Day, USA 2018
1 Kings 17:8-16
Psalm 146
Hebrews 9:24-28
Mark 12:38-44

Standing and gazing out over the crowd this morning, as the names of our veterans were read over the loudspeaker, three things were prominent. The trees on the hilltop horizon broadcast a beautiful tapestry of the changing seasons in southeastern Pennsylvania. Flags snap in the crisp breeze. The American flag waves proudly beside a banner encouraging passersby to buy and eat local. Yet it was the feeling in my heart that truly spoke the loudest. In an imperfect world, a troubled nation, and an unsettled mind, I was overjoyed to be alive. Honored to be a citizen of the United States of America, for which the flag stands. Happy to be a human, even though I know that perfection politically, socially and ecologically elude our painfully inadequate and sinful existence. I was proud of what my forebearers have accomplished, knowing that the negatives shall haunt me all the days of my life. Gazing out upon the scenery I found sanctuary on the wind. I was truly in God’s holy temple.

I am unapologetically patriotic and of deep Christian faith. I am an optimistic in the Lord. I accept reality as it is but refuse to surrender to the idea that reality is immutable. We can change ourselves and the world. I pray and strive to ensure that such change is for the betterment of all humanity and all creation. Douglas John Hall describes love as the notion that we are to be “with” one another as the human species, and with nature as is our calling as stewards of the cosmos. We do not lose our individuality in the literal sense, instead embracing the fullness of the other’s being with our own (Hall, Douglas John. The Steward. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1990. Pages 207-208). While we may need to adapt our behaviors or refrain from detrimental actions, humans can and must be unabashedly glad to be human. To embrace the individuality of others, we must first embrace ourselves.

St. Martin of Tours, a soldier of the Roman cavalry in Gaul during the first years of the Empire post Edict of Milan, was raised a Christian. He served faithfully in the military until Caesar Julian “the Apostate” took the throne (https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Martin-of-Tours , accessed November 3, 2018). Martin recognized that he could not serve Julian and the Empire under his authority, instead standing firm for his true leader and king, Jesus Christ. We remember St. Martin for his willingness to fight for and find sanctuary in Jesus. For knowing when and how to serve God. We can say the same of our veterans here today. We can rejoice and remember those who fell for the betterment of the world. Those who fought on the shores of Normandy to liberate the enslaved and tortured people of God. Those who sought to topple dictators and bring relief to those poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free (Emma Lazarus. “The New Colossus,” 1883). I am happy to be alive in this nation, even if imperfect.

Sanctuary is defined by the Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories as a church or sacred space where a fugitive was immune from arrest (Glynnis Chantrell, editor. The Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Page 446). The implication by law was that the “holy” space was legally sacred. While the history of sanctuary laws has changed, the notion remains that some spaces offer protection. For Elijah, that location came in the place of Zarephath. Coping with the need for food and water, Elijah follows the command of God and goes to the town of Zarephath deep in the territory of Baal and his champion Jezebel (Richard Nelson. First and Second Kings. Louisville: John Knox Press, 1987. Pages 109-110). Not only did Elijah need that basics of life, he needed protection. In the guise of the widow, God provided not only what Elijah needed; God gave to the widow and her son that which they needed. God gave Elijah sanctuary and rest.

Looking out into the fall foliage, the sense of sanctuary under God’s watchful eye, was palpable. There was a sense that we were safe, because we stood together. The crowd stood silent as flags were retired in the flames of a billowing fire. A hawk screeched its disapproval at the thick smoke in the air, and the smell filled the nostrils of each soul that looked on. We stood together as local folks gathering to remember what we hold onto as a sacred service. We stood in a sanctuary from the world, praying, remembering, and hoping for a greater future, while refusing to neglect the past. The service was sponsored and took place in the midst of a local nursery, with trees and plants of all kinds surrounding the small handful of celebrants. It was a wonderful meshing of creation, love, and respect. It seemed a perfect little slice of our bioregion.

“Bioregionalism is a useful approach to the study of established and emerging links between cultural and ecological diversity” (Peña, Devon. “Los Animalitos,” in Chicano Culture, Ecology, Politics. Tuscon: University of Arizona Press, 1998, 53). The approach outlined in the article suggests that as we know ourselves and the other, we can celebrate and respect our differences, while at the same exact time celebrate unity. As an approach to the preservation of ecological diversity, bioregionalism is a much stronger approach when we understand our human diversity as being a blessing for everyone, and not as an entitlement or weapon. Being proud of who I am, where I was born, and the nuances of my biological being give me the power to be equally fascinated by the diversity in the world around me. Or such is the thought.

When we are healthy, the biological diversity around us is healthy. When we love one another, we beat our swords into plowshares, and the whole creation is loved. We find ourselves with one another, and not in opposition to the world. The banner reading “eat and buy local,” does not seek global isolation. Rather it encourages us to celebrate our bioregional greatness as part of a greater whole. How we view and treat ourselves and our own ecosystem home, is a foreshadowing of how we will treat the cosmic reality and the outsider. While in doubt of the claim, the widow of Zarephath none-the-less trusts and provides sanctuary in the form of oil and meal. God blesses the widow in return for her obedience, and God will bless humanity when we give sanctuary to the land and the whole of created life.

Much like the widow at Zarephath, St. Martin of Tours, leaving the service of the cavalry, embraced a ministry of sanctuary. For the broken and sinful saints on the journey of life, Martin sought to provide guidance and nourishment in the Christian faith. Martin, as a young man had encountered God’s love through a beggar in Amiens. Martin drew his sword and tore his cloak in two, to both clothe the beggar and himself. That night he saw, in a vision, the Lord praising Martin for being a mere catechumen, and yet clothing Jesus (https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=81 Accessed November 3, 2018). Saint Martin showed the same willingness to provide for others, even when he himself had little. He joins the widow at Zarephath and the woman of Mark 12:38-44, in trusting and obeying God. These examples of faithful women and men show how respect for the other, regardless of the differences dividing them, empowers and offers sanctuary to all.
Among the lessons for today, a theme runs strongly throughout. Love all and be “with” all humanity and creation. Respect and cherish diversity and unity; our uniqueness as equally as our sameness. Give without the need to ask why, how, or when. Provide sanctuary as it is provided to all who believe and obey the Lord.

Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B (Sassaman)

Ecojustice Commentary on the Revised Common Lectionary
Series B: 2017-2018
By Jeremiah Sassaman

The 24th Sunday after Pentecost in Year B
Deuteronomy 6:1-9
Psalm 119:1-8
Hebrews 9:11-14
Mark 12:28-34

“Hear, O Israel: The LORD is our God, the LORD alone. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”

The shema in its fullest authority and the necessary addition of Christ Jesus’s proclamation of the second commandment to, “love your neighbor as yourself,” in Mark’s gospel, form the foundations of Christian faith and life. It can be said that it is these two commandments that give meaning, purpose and direction to all of humanity. These commandments ensure life, liberty and happiness. These commandments are life-giving and life-sustaining. These commandments protect, preserve and provide for the coexistence of humanity within and alongside all of creation.

The people of God have from the beginning, known God as LORD and Creator of all. For the early Israelites, God’s authority and power were evident alone in Himself. While the world is the creation of God, and within the cosmos God’s power and glory could be witnessed or experienced, there was a clear distinction between God and the creation. To avoid the pitfalls of idolatry, God, and God alone, was separate from God’s handiwork (Eichrodt, Walter. Theology of the Old Testament, Volume 2. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967. Pages 107-109). God created all things and declared them good. As such it can easily be deduced that all things too were created in perfection. The perfection of God, witnessed in God’s creations and creatures, are thus to be equally cherished. Humanity, given lordship over all of creation (in Genesis) as the representative of God, ought then to seek to adhere to the intent of God in His creative act (Von Rad, Gerhard. Old Testament Theology. Volume 1. New York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1962. Pages 146-147).

Now, to be clear, these initial thoughts surround the concept of Creation before the Fall of Adam. Before sin entered the world, the relationship between humanity and the creation was untainted and without death. Humans were alongside all animals in finding their sustenance in the waters and soils of the land. Killing was completely unnecessary and unknown. Pollution and destruction were unknown. There were simply no instances where greed and gluttony would cause the abuse of fellow creatures, their habitations, or sources of life.

With the advent of the knowledge of good and evil in the human consciousness, the relationship between humankind and every other component of the created world became broken. What was, for a time, the perfection of God’s hand was weakened and entered a terminal existence. Life changed. Creation began to groan in travail. Humanity and animals alike no longer ate from the fruits of the soil alone, choosing rather to regularly dine on one another. From a scientific standpoint, we can certainly argue with this biblical account in terms of its authenticity as myth or fact. Evolutionary science directs us to a deeper understanding of the reasons why species exist as herbivorous, carnivorous, or omnivorous. Yet the text itself leads us to ask the question, “Does it matter?” Does it matter if we take the text as literal or solely inspired? Or is there some concept of authority in between? I am by no means an Old Testament scholar. I am aware of the depth of biblical knowledge and interpretive possibilities; by no means a master. So, I pose these questions purely out of a sense of provoking existential thought. Can understanding our role as elements of God’s creation be simplified? Should it be? I am unsure, yet propose the following:

God is LORD alone.
God created all that has been made.
God saw that it was good.
We are part of what God has made.
We are created as lords and stewards of creation as God’s representatives.
Because God created things in perfection and declared them good, and we represent God, humanity thus ought to exert its representational authority according to God’s will and with God’s vision of creation as good.

These thoughts are by no means exhaustive or perfect, as nothing human hands and minds can devise is such. Yet in their simplicity can this line of thought be accurate? If so, humanity has a God-given responsibility to view all of creation as an affirmative witness of God’s awesome and everlasting grace and glory. Creation in its entirety, must be viewed as neighbor, not to be fenced in nor kept at arms-length but embraced and loved. Creation becomes something to commune with, not pillage. Regardless of one’s understanding of the role of humanity, it seems universal that people do not squat where they eat. Thus, pollution and destruction of earth’s non-living creation is equally repulsive to Christian life.

All of God’s creatures as our neighbors fall under Christ’s call to love our neighbors as ourselves. To fully love our neighbors and their existence, we must protect their homes as well. All of creation is our neighborhood. Dr. Kristin Largen suggests that we must see things this way first if we ever hope to love all that God has made, including ourselves as human creatures (Largen, Kristin Johnston. 2017. Neighbors, neighbor-love, and our animal neighbors.” Word & World 37, no. 1: 37-47. ATLASerials, Religion Collection, EBSCOhost accessed August 2, 2018). Indeed, caring for the world around us requires a radical rediscovery of our pre-Fall relationships.

Jeremiah Sassaman revsassaman@ptd.net

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

Ecojustice Commentary on the Revised Common Lectionary
Readings for Series B: 2018
by Nick Utphall

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 53:4-12
Psalm 91:9-16
Hebrews 5:1-10
Mark 10:35-45

From top to bottom this week, the lectionary readings seem ready-made for sacrificial substitutionary atonement. This is the view that Jesus died for your sins, that his righteousness is offered as recompense to cover the debt of your sins, a sense of justice that must be retributive, and—most centrally—that a perfect Father demands satisfaction so that you need not be condemned eternally, but since somebody’s gotta pay for it Jesus died vicariously in your place. Built partly on one reading of the Christ Hymn of Philippians 2:5-11, God the Father sends the Son expressly for this purpose, and Jesus was so obedient to this command that he suffered even to the point of death on the cross (I would say that’s a misreading, much preferring the sort of perspective that it is about love for humanity, like partially described here from David Fredrickson: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=146). This substitutionary satisfaction view has become the dominant sense (in American Christianity, at least) of the whole reason for Jesus. It has even become the default understanding, where any other theological perspective is inherently viewed with suspicion.

As a reader of a care for creation commentary, I suspect that you might not fully endorse such an atonement theory. In a model that mainly deals with eternal consequences. Life in this world is mainly relegated to a tally sheet, keeping a record of how well you’ve done or noting that no matter what you’ve done, an eschatologically significant rupture of relationship with God will occur. Given that it deals with and focuses on Jesus’ death, it seems to be a matter for after-life and doesn’t seem to connect much to actual relationships and interactions of our lives on earth now. For that regard, I’d simply guess that most people invested in caring for creation are not as directly concerned with Jesus paying for our sins (Maybe someone could do a survey to find out just how much those two categories mix?).

So what are we to do with these readings, if they seem to scream a perspective of internal, spiritualized ledger sheets? Here’s some of the litany for the week:
Jesus said, “The Son of Man came…to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45)
He “was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole” (Isaiah 53:5)
He was “stricken for the transgression of my people” (Isaiah 53:8)
“It was the will of the LORD to crush him with pain” and “make his life an offering for sin” (Isaiah 53:10)
“The righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Isaiah 53:11)
Jesus “was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (Hebrews 5:7-9)

So how to confront these readings, or how to hear them in a way that isn’t about Jesus forced to serve as a vicarious satisfaction in substitute for you and your death demanded by a vengefully righteous God? Is there room for care for creation, or is it that all is lost and we must look to heaven (or, perhaps more palatable to us, the new creation yet to come)?

In his review of the alternatives to this dominant atonement theory, Mennonite and nonviolent theologian J. Denny Weaver points out that “In ‘God of the Oppressed,’ James H. Cone, the founder of the black theology movement, pointed out that the dominant Anselmian doctrine posed atonement in terms of an abstract theory that lacked ethical dimensions in the historical arena. Consequently, it allowed white people to claim salvation while accommodating and advocating the violence of racism and slavery”—a criticism also leveled by feminist theologians, among others (“The Nonviolent Atonement,” p 4). This begins to take seriously our human relationships and God’s actions in society, even as we who care for creation insist that this must be broader even than some multiracial and gender-inclusive anthropocentrism.

One way to approach these readings comes from Girardian theologian James Allison, who has posed the question, “Who sacrificed who to whom?” The answer should not be so directly presumed that God insisted on killing Jesus for God’s own sake. Humanity was and remains too steeped in the practice of doing violence to each other. The death of Jesus, in this Girardian view, was a rupture designed to break the perpetual cycle of scapegoating and violence. Allison, who takes seriously the notion and practice of sacrifice, can remind us that this is about life being able to continue on, about God entering the creation and being restored in right relationship. (For some of those historical reflections on sacrifice, where it is clarified that in traditional sacrifice God was sacrificing God-self for the sake of humanity and creation, a “divine movement to set people free,” see this essay: http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng11.html.)

In spite of how readily these Bible passages might be enlisted for the purposes of the retributive violent atonement models, it also is readily apparent that the goal is about life. It is not a story of a God whose will is suffering or punishment or death. Rather than terms or pain, notice Isaiah’s efforts for healing, wholeness, prolonged days, and life. One phrase in particular that jumps out is “by a perversion of justice” (53:8). Clearly any of the suffering or pain cannot be seen as right, the afflictions and oppressions cannot be labeled as divinely intended, when that is a perversion of justice. It is when the system is broken that pain and suffering prevail, not by the system God designed and intended and planned.

I’m averse to saying that we have to learn the perfect submission or that our suffering will make us perfect in that way that Hebrews perceives it. But the brutality of Isaiah may make more sense through a perspective of self-sacrifice. It seems vitally significant that suffering is not something that one is told to endure, but that one chooses for oneself. This is not the oppression of groups of people explained away, the abuse done in relationships excused, the subjugation and disregard that takes advantage of others. No one may be told to suffer, to confine them by telling them to learn obedience to that way. Rather, this is chosen. Following Cone’s criticism mentioned above, rather than masters justifying their enslavement of others, this voluntarily takes the place of a servant. This is a slavery opted into for the sake of love and in service of life. With Isaiah, the prophet sees himself as the suffering servant (and is not predicting the fate of another, much less saying what God will do to Jesus).

Here is one explanation from Terence Fretheim: “At the very least, we must say that the suffering of the servant is reflective of the suffering of God; in the giving up of the servant for the world, personal self-sacrifice is seen to define God’s purpose here. But even more, as the servant is the vehicle for divine immanence, we should also say that God, too, experiences what the servant suffers. This consequence is something which God chooses to bring not only upon the servant but also upon [God]self. While God does not die, God experiences in a profound way what death is like in and through the servant. By so participating in the depths of the death-dealing forces of this world, God transforms the world from within; and a new creation thereby begins to be born.” (“The Suffering of God: An Old Testament Perspective,” p164-65)

For this perspective of God’s efforts for life over death, one of the most useful aspects of this Gospel reading is as a corrective to the dominant and domineering readings of Genesis 1 that give license to the abuse of creation. When God offers the instruction for the humans to “have dominion over the fish of the seas and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth” (Genesis 1:28), dominion has much too frequently been interpreted as permission to do whatever we want. I believe it is helpful to consider the word “dominion.” It ties to the Latin “dominus,” for Lord.

Similarly, the word in Genesis 1:28 in the Septuagint or Greek version of the Old Testament includes Kyrie—which we know from “Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy.” Although the term Jesus uses is the exact same word (katekyrie) for “lord it over,” we can see that he advocates and leads us into a very different kind of dominion. Though we might be more apt to be “like the nations” (in Jesus’ phrase from Mark 10:42), our own practice of lordship should not be to “lord it over” as tyrants, but should follow the model and example of the one we name as Lord. As disciples of our Lord Jesus, we see that dominion is about service, that greatness is found in being a “slave of all” (10:44). That is more representative of the kind of God we have. God is not one who is so far above us that we must fear threats. God is not so distant from us that we can’t even begin to hope to be so proper and holy that we could gain proximity. Our God comes to strive on our behalf, to offer God’s own self for the sake of our lives and ongoing goodness of creation.

Since this is what it means not just for John and James but also for us to be associated with Jesus, to share his baptism and receive from his cup, then we find our place separate from the “great ones” (with the depictive Greek phrase “megaloi”) who claim authority over others. It almost can feel like a Godzilla, stomping through the city and across a landscape, leaving a wake of destruction, entirely careless for what it has abused. We, instead, are called to serve, even to enter into the suffering Jesus has been describing and is moving toward in Jerusalem.

This is likely what is meant by the term “ransom,” in a paradoxical or ironic way. Similar to Luther’s paired theses in “The Freedom of a Christian,” that a Christian is “totally free master of all, subject to none; and totally bound slave of all, subject to all,” Jesus frees you in order to serve. “The term [‘ransom’] referred to the price required to redeem captives or purchase freedom for indentured servants” (Ched Myers, “Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus,” p279). Jesus frees you from slavery to the tyrannical overlords, in order that you may be slave not just to their whims but “slave to all.”

Further, we recognize that sometimes giving life should, indeed, be perceived as in line with God’s will. Parents give up and restrict their opportunities and options on behalf of their children. A firefighter will freely risk her own wellbeing, maybe even sacrificing to save others from a burning building. As a dog owner, I know that it means. I’m up in the middle of the night and out for walks in the cold. As a gardener, I’m rubbing sore back muscles and fighting sunburn and swatting mosquitoes so that I can care for those vegetables and flowers. Some labor is referred to as “punishing,” even though we might only be subjecting ourselves to the work. That seems a better and more life-giving view, and more appropriately tied to a God who created and sustains out of love, than one of obedience and being stricken for transgressions.

Nick Utphall
nick@theMCC.net

Twenty First Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

Care for Creation Commentary on the Common Lectionary—Year B 2018
Reading for Series B: 2018
by Nick Utphall

21st Sunday after Pentecost
Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
Psalm 90:12-17
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

I have a “green letter” edition of the Bible. There’s the more familiar “red letter” versions, where all the words of Jesus appear in a red font (mostly in the Gospels, but also occasionally applied in Revelation or Paul). The green version, however, tries to highlight passages that may be obvious in talking about creation and the environment and our ecological stewardship, verses that tie us in relationships to the world around us.

This week’s Gospel reading not only lacks a green highlighting in this version of the Bible, but seems like it could appear in even a blacker font, reinforcing a lack of connection and emphasizing a separation from nature. “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life,” Jesus boldly but perhaps darkly proclaims (Mark 10:29-30).

I suppose there are many believers and many voices from pulpits who will find in this passage a heavenly removal from Earth. Not only will we escape the terrestrial bonds when we die, but it could seem that in this passage we are told to practice our release already, shunning all we would hold dear or claim is good in life.

Generally, our sense of connection to life on Earth may be most firmly established in exactly the places that Jesus seems to dismiss: familial relationships and agrarian harvest. Thanksgiving and prayers for crops and blessings of weddings are still some of the most common places that our Christian faith is invited into secular culture.

Our bread and butter in creation care has been an easy emphasis on farmers and their dedication to fields that feed; just look at the stewardship section of a hymnal:
“Sing to the Lord of harvest”
“Come, ye thankful people come; raise the song of harvest home”
“Praise and thanksgiving, God, we would offer for…harvest of sown fields, fruits of the orchard, hay from the mown fields, blossom and wood”
“We plow the fields and scatter the good seed on the land”
“For the fruits of all creation, thanks be to God… For the plowing, sowing, reaping, silent growth while we are sleeping”
But we might wonder from this Gospel passage if Jesus is singing a different tune.

Again, for a sense of vocation and purpose of earthly life, our roles and relationships in family have been central. The Lutheran Reformation supported those directly and predominantly, with Luther regularly declaring that somebody as spouse or parent was more clearly doing God’s work than one who withdrew into a monastery, and Luther himself ended up a “family man” exactly to embody the point of changing diapers as more godly than cloistered pious prayers. His Small Catechism’s explanation of the Lord’s Prayer says that the petition for daily bread includes “farm, fields, livestock, money, property, an upright spouse, upright children, [and] upright members of the household.”
But we might wonder from this Gospel passage if the Lord himself was trying to teach us some other way to pray and be remembered into his kingdom.

So what are creation-caring preachers and believers to do?
What to do with a counsel to forsake all our earthly “goods” (as the term would evaluate our possessions)?
If actually trying to sell everything we own, as Jesus counsels the rich young man, wouldn’t we remove ourselves from the economy? And wouldn’t that “eco” of the household there also function to remove us from the “eco” of ecology? Is Jesus suggesting we withdraw from the entire order of this earthly home?

Maybe a first re-entry point is to take Jesus seriously in this reading. A bracket of two phrases may be especially worthwhile in cushioning the shock. To conclude, we can cling to the proclamation that “for God all things are possible” (10:27). And to start, we should not miss verse 21: “Jesus, looking at [the rich man], loved him.” From those two gospel words—of possibility and love—then we can also genuinely receive Jesus’ instruction, not just for the man in the ancient account who had many possessions, but for us ourselves to sell what WE own.

But, first, a side trip through the first reading. The prophet Amos has some strong economic condemnation today, about injustice, sins, and transgressions, “because you trample on the poor” (5:11). Clearly in the view of the prophet and this word of the LORD, “seeking” and “loving” good (5:14 and 15) is a matter of the distribution of wealth.

These strong words, paired with Jesus’ injunction, may lead us to question which side we’re on. Are we like the grieving man who goes away after his many possessions, or are we like Peter and the disciples who have forsaken much? Are we like Amos’s rich people who have built nice houses and picture ourselves enjoying the wine of pleasant vineyards, or are we like the needy people who have suffered extortions and are pushed aside from the places we seek justice?

I find one helpful tool for determining our place is the Global Rich List, a website available here: http://www.globalrichlist.com/. This quick calculator creatively shows that almost all of us as Americans are well-established as the Haves and not as the Have-Nots, the rich and not the poor, the possessed man and not the disciple. I may not be Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, or a Rockefeller, but my own clergy salary (not to mention my other benefits and possessions and white privileges and all) puts me in the top tenth of a percent of the wealthiest on the planet, ahead of 99.9% of the other 7 billion people.

Rather than preemptively dismissing Jesus’ mandate to “sell what I own, and give the money to the poor,” I should allow my shock to stand. I should not pretend to depend on my pious thoughts of obeying the commandments and being a diligent churchgoer since my youth. I certainly should not perceive or call myself “good” (Mark 10:18). But I may then better recognize what it is when Amos calls me to seek and to love goodness.

Indeed, rather than this being a call away from the world toward heaven, this is a calling from Jesus to confront honestly my place—and our places—in this world. As long as I am ignorant of my premier standing among the wealthy, then I will be neglecting the good of the poor and the needy at the gate. With awareness of privileged place, that may begin to lead to practicing living more rightly. Doing that isn’t in order to win favor; after all, even with my ignorant or grieving possessiveness, still Jesus loves me. But maybe it will exemplify the new shock that “for God all things are possible.”

With this engagement in the world, the refrain of the Psalm comes to make more sense, as well. The Psalm concludes with the repetition: “Prosper for us the work of our hands—O prosper the work of our hands!” (90:17). Clearly this is not an escapist spiritualized realm where our handiwork is abominable and condemnable, earthy instead of heavenly. But neither is this the mad method of the so-called prosperity gospel, where blessing means that I will have more than others and become richer, that the prospering of my hands will proceed straight into my own pockets.

When we prosper and our hands are doing God’s work, then that won’t be with a closed-tight grip but with an open-handed release for sharing. If we consider wealth a blessing, then it fits the Abrahamic blessing of Genesis 12:2 that we are blessed in order to be a blessing, to extend the good. We have money in order to share it. We have possessions so that we can release and give them away. This is not a reading about separation from earthly possessions, but from the sense of hoarding them and exclusively claiming them. If we’re beginning to be able to consider that, then that seems like a valuable step, rather than pursuing the ultimate end of what will happen if we don’t sell everything, if we keep home or field or some possessions, if we don’t forsake family.

Turning again to Amos, we may discern rightful wisdom in this practice. We need not hear it only as a threat about giving away or redistributing incomes. When the prophet offers the conditional phrase, “Seek good and not evil, that you may live” (5:14), we may understand it not as divine legalism only but as logical economic fact. Our economic order that is built purely on extraction is not sustainable. When we try to claim wealth from other human beings and from mining, clear-cutting, and draining the planet, it not only will cause harm in sweatshops and food deserts amid communities of color, but will come back around to our own downfall. There is only so long we can wall ourselves off from that detriment in gated communities or insulated identities.

In his final Sunday sermon, Martin Luther King Jr. said,

“Through our scientific and technological genius, we have made of this world a neighborhood and yet we have not made the ethical commitment to make of it a brotherhood [sic]. But somehow, and in some way, we have got to do this. We must all learn to live together as brothers [and sisters!]. Or we will all perish together as fools. We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured” (see “A Testament of Hope,” p269).

Over against the sibling rivalry of our standard economic struggles, these brotherly words may actually serve as a clarification of Jesus’ word about leaving family, that our view of family and sense of relationships and kindness of kinship need to be significantly broadened, to the human family and our siblings in all creation. As Jesus loved a man with too many possessions, we might also love. Anything else lets our neighbor loom too small and our possessions loom too large, precluding our passage through the eye of the needle.

Lest we still fail to hear gracious invitation and the promise of life in that, here is Ted Jennings on the renunciation of kinship structures and the means of sustaining life, reminding us of the experiences we recognize from those who heed this calling:

“This conforms exactly to the experience of mission, that those who enter into solidarity with the poor and afflicted find that they have hundreds of sisters, and brothers, and mothers . . . . We receive the hospitality of the poor, of those who say, ‘my house is your house’ . . . . Just as manna in the desert cannot become my private property to be stored up in barns, so also that which is offered by the poor to the poor is more than enough, yet is never accumulated or hoarded” (The Insurrection of the Crucified: The ‘Gospel of Mark’ as Theological Manifesto, p165-166).

And though I may not be Jeff Bezos and I may not feel the ability to renounce what I have and live in solidarity with the poor so ascetically as a Mother Teresa, still, when 388 people own fully half of the world’s wealth (as cited in an article on “The Inequality Industry” in The Nation’s October 8/15, 2018 issue), then it becomes clearer where most of us actually stand and where our place is in the struggle for equality and caring for the world’s family. And it is reverberatingly clear why Jesus would call us into such a mutually beneficial kind of living.

Nick Utphall nick@theMCC.net

 

 

 

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, St. Francis Day, Year B

Creation Care Commentary on the Revised Common Lectionary
St. Francis Day, Lectionary 27
By Nancy Wright

Genesis 2:18-24
Psalm 8
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16

We are given a wonderful series of texts for a St. Francis Day (Oct. 4) celebration. Although there are many themes in these texts, perhaps four might be brought to the attention of parishioners.

First, the role that God assigns human beings to play is highly significant. God challenges humans to call each creature by name. Second, a humble wonder is central to worship and care for Earth. Third, God’s Son sustains all things. And, fourth, the kingdom of God belongs to children. Let us take these in order.

In the understanding of the Hebrew people, to name is to know the essence of a human or other-than-human being. Thus,

“To name” or “to designate” belongs to the ordering of creation; …The bestowal of names initiates the human ordering of creation in Gen. 2:19….This association of the act of naming with creation underlines the fact that the name represents something wholesome and salutary; the knowledge of the name opens up specific human dimensions for communication and for fellowship (The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Volume IV, “Names of God in the OT,” New York: Doubleday, 1992, p. 1002).

Even while mind-bogglingly and newly aware of scientific discoveries about the 13-billion-year-old universe, plate tectonics, cell division, dark matter, and the relatively infinitesimal lifespan of humans on Earth, we have become aware of the planetary role humans now play. As a planetary force, humans now hold the fate of the planet in our hands, determining, for example, how many species become endangered or extinct. The name for this age in which we exert such power is the Anthropocene. It has ushered in the Sixth Great Extinction, this one caused by human beings. Scientists describe five earlier Great Extinction events in Earth’s history, after which new species emerge over millions of years. Elizabeth Kolbert reports that “by the end of this century as many as half of earth’s species will be gone” (Elizabeth Kolbert, “The Sixth Extinction,” The New Yorker [May 25, 2009], accessed February 12, 2018, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/05/25/the-sixth-extinction; see also Kolbert’s The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History, New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2015).

Grappling with such power and loss, ethicists use the terms ecocide and biocide to describe human activity that unwittingly runs the story of the creation as told in the first book of the Bible, Genesis, backward.

Christians urgently need to reclaim their biblically assigned role of knowing the names of the surrounding animals and plants. We can do so by learning about biodiversity, the intricacies of the web of life, and the names and habits of creatures in our watersheds.

Watershed awareness is a movement within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America stimulated by the Resolution Urging Stewardship of the Gift of Water, passed at the 2016 Churchwide Assembly. The resolution urges that congregations learn about their watersheds, lifting up the names of lakes, rivers, and streams in their worship. To learn the names of animals and plants in the watershed can involve fascinating congregational outings, lecture series, water trips, and prayers for the well-being of other-than-human neighbors. Further, such growing awareness should lead to advocacy for care for God’s creation and continued support for the Endangered Species Act, which is under threat from Congressional leaders, often buoyed by short-term corporate considerations that take no account of the health of a bioregion.

Second, a critical antidote to this tremendous knowledge linked with the ability to harm creation is to accelerate an attitude of wonder. Psalm 8 is a beautiful expression, filled with joy and gratitude, of wonder. Wonder and hope together foster courage and energy for the work of creation care. Writing about Psalm 104, but applicable to Psalm 8, Old Testament scholar William P. Brown writes,

As for humankind in this psalm, we are simply one species among many, and that too is a wonder. Creation is a shared habitation, and if there is a perfection or ideal presumed in the psalmist’s world, it is the perfection of biodiversity, the wild and wondrous diversity of life and habitat. By listing various animal species, the psalmist offers a selective sample of the vast Encyclopedia of Life, which continues to be catalogued day by day (www.eol.org) (Sacred Sense: Discovering the Wonder of God’s Word and World, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015, p. 68-69).

Congregations can enliven a sense of wonder by preaching about the intricacies of animals and plants and the manifold wonders of life’s expression, by encouraging worship outdoors, by performing outdoor baptisms, and by including the voices of nature in worship (Paul Winter’s whale calls in his music, which I heard in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine at a Solstice celebration, will always haunt me).

Third, God’s Son sustains all things. The Cosmic Christ scriptural theology (John 1:1–14, Col. 1:15–20, Heb. 1:2-3), powerfully urges Christians to contemplate Christ’s shown forth in all of creation. In Confirmation class or Sunday school, students hopefully learn that the church is the congregation, not the building (using the hand motions that open out to show the fingers as the people), but reevaluating and reenergizing the church to care for creation engages Christians in understanding that nature co-worships with us (Is. 55:12) and is sacred, infused with Christ’s being. Therefore, does the church include all of creation? (How would hand motions express that wider, creation-centered awareness of church?)

To recognize nature as co-worshipers, or as part of the body of the Cosmic Christ, renders nature as numinous or sacramental. No longer do humans exclusively take up the center of God’s attention. Further, humans no longer see the discontinuity between their life and that of creation in that they perceive all as nourished and sustained by God. If we think of creation as sacred, how many decisions about land use, economic measurements, and transportation would be weighed with different, wider values and hoped-for outcomes that respect the web of life?

Finally, the kingdom of God belongs to children (Mark 2:14). Several points might be made about Jesus’ blessing of children. First, adults are to receive God’s kingdom of love and justice with devotion and trust, as a child is devoted to and trusts a good, loving parent. Second, since children are particularly vulnerable to pollution, war, and other traumas, making the world safe for children is a requirement for Christians. Third, faithful Christians will foster environmental justice. Noteworthy is the Our Children’s Trust Lawsuit, which goes to trial on October 29. Our Children’s Trust “elevates the voice of youth to secure the legal right to a stable climate and healthy atmosphere for all present and future generations” (https://www.ourchildrenstrust.org/mission-statement, accessed September 24, 2018). Justice for #EachGeneration calls for thousands of sermons to be preached in support prior to that date. The website encourages preachers to sign up and learn more.

When Christians help society to move from denial, complacency, and greed to foster a world in which children are cared for to the Seventh Generation, as Native Americans have envisioned, we adults may have achieved wisdom and wonder and innocence enough to claim our inheritance with the children. Then we may enter into Jesus’ kingdom of justice, peace, and sustaining love.

The Rev. Dr. Nancy G. Wright, pastornancy@alcvt.org

Lessons for Year B (Lent – Easter 2018)

The Sixth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday in Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Easter Sunday in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in Year B (by Kiara Jorgensen)

Passion Sunday in Year B (by Leah Schade)

The Fifth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Third Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Second Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The First Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

Season of Creation Commentary Archive (Years A, B, and C)

The First Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year B: Planet Earth Sunday (by Rob Saler) “Creation bears enduring testimony to God’s goodness.”
 
The Second Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year B: Humanity Sunday (by Rob Saler). “We are most fully human when we care for creation with humility.”
 
The Third Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year B: Sky Sunday (by Rob Saler) Scripture enjoins us to care for earth, sky, and sea as “the commons” we share together.
 
The Fourth Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year B: Mountain Sunday (by Rob Saler) Scripture changes how we view mountains. 
 
The Season of Creation in Year B: Saint Francis Sunday (by Rob Saler) Jesus and St. Frances showed deep tenderness towards creation and passionate advocacy against injustice.
 
YEAR C
 
Commentary on lessons for the Season of Creation in Year C (by Leah Schade)
The First Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year C: Ocean Sunday.  Wisdom teaches that what God has gathered up in Christ, we humans should make healthy, free from toxins, cleaned of trash, and restored to abundance.
The Second Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year C: Fauna Sunday. Wisdom leads us to change our relationships with our animal brothers and sisters in God’s creation.
The Third Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year C: Storm Sunday. Finding the peace of God in the storm, we are called wake up to the storms we have created.
The Fourth Sunday in the Season of Creation in Year C: Universe Sunday. There is one Wisdom, one Beauty, one Mind that flows through the universe.
For additional resources for the Season of Creation visit www.letallcreationpraise.org.

Lessons for Year B (Pentecost – 8th Sunday after Pentecost 2015)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

Trinity Sunday in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Day of Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

 

Lectionary Lessons Archive (Years A & B)

Some of our lectionary commentaries have not yet been moved to this website, but are available on our old website. As time goes by, these commentaries will be moved to this active website. We hope this will improve the navigation and accessibility of these helpful resources.

YEAR A (2016-2017)

PENTECOST SEASON IN YEAR A

Christ the King Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

All Saints Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Reformation Sunday (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Kathryn Schifferdecker)

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Paul Santmire)

The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Richard Perry)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Trinity Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

LENTEN SEASON IN YEAR A

The Sunday of the Passion in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

The Fifth Sunday in Lent in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Lent in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

The Third Sunday in Lent in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

The Second Sunday in Lent in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

The First Sunday of Lent in Year A (Tom Mundahl)

THE TRANSFIGURATION OF OUR LORD

The Transfiguration of Our Lord in Year A (Dennis Ormseth)

EPIPHANY SEASON IN YEAR A

The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (Leah Schade)

The Baptism of Our Lord in Year A (Leah Schade)

CHRISTMAS SEASON IN YEAR A

The Baptism of Our Lord in Year A (Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday of Christmas in Year A  (Leah Schade)

 

YEAR B (2018)

PENTECOST IN YEAR B

The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Eleventh, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Sundays after Pentecost in Year B (from 2012, by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Amy Carr)

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B. (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

Trinity Sunday in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Day of Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

EASTER IN YEAR B (2018)

The Seventh Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday in Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Easter Sunday in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

LENT IN YEAR B (2018)

Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in Year B (by Kiara  Jorgensen)

Passion Sunday in Year B (by Leah Schade)

The Fifth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Third Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)
The Second Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The First Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

 YEAR B (2014-2015)

    • Advent: (Four Sundays from November 30 to December 21) [Tom Mundahl]
    • Christmas: (Two Sundays after Christmas, December 28 and January 4) [Tom Mundahl]
    • Epiphany: (Six Sundays from January 11 to February 15) [Dennis Ormseth]
    • Lent: (Six Sundays from February 22 to March 29) [Rob Saler]
    • Easter: (Seven Sundays from Easter Day April 5 to May 17) [Dennis Ormseth]
    • Pentecost: (Sundays from Pentecost on May 24 to June 28) [Leah Schade]
    • Pentecost: (Sundays from Pentecost 6 on July 5 through Pentecost 11 on August 9) [Tom Mundahl]
  •  

The Season of Pentecost in Year B (2015)

Christ the King Sunday in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

OR Reformation Sunday in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012 by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Dennis Ormseth)

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B ((From 2012, by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Tom Mundahl)

2015  Special Series on St. Francis for Pentecost 18, 19, 20 (Scroll down for all Sundays) by Paul Santmire.

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Tom Mundahl)

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Tom Mundahl)

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Tom Mundahl)

The Eleventh, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Sundays after Pentecost in Year B (From 2012, by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

Trinity Sunday in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Day of Pentecost in Year B (2015) (by Leah Schade)

The Season of Easter in Year B (2015)

The Seventh Sunday of Easter in Year B (2015) (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday of Easter in Year B (2015) (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Easter in Year B (2015) (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Easter in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday of Easter in Year B (2015) (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday of Easter in Year B (2015) (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Resurrection of Our Lord in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Season of Lent in Year B (2015)

Palm/ Passion Sunday in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The Fifth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The Fourth Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The Third Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The Second Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The First Sunday in Lent in Year B (by Robert Saler)

The Season of Epiphany in Year B

The Transfiguration of Our Lord in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015)

The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015)

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015)

The Third Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015)

The Second Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015)

The Baptism of Our Lord in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth, 2015).

Advent and Christmas Seasons in Year B

The Second Sunday of Christmas in Year B (by Tom Mundahl, 2015)).

The First Sunday of Christmas in Year B (by Tom Mundahl, 2014))

The Nativity of Our Lord: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Advent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl, 2014))

The Third Sunday in Advent in Year B (Tom Mundahl, 2014))

The Second Sunday in Advent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl, 2014))

The First Sunday in Advent in Year B (by Tom Mundahl, 2014))

Pentecost Season in Year A

Christ the King Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

All Saints Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Reformation Sunday (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Kathryn Schifferdecker)

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Paul Santmire)

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Paul Santmire)

The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Richard Perry)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Trinity Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Pentecost Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Easter Season in Year A

Overview of all lessons in the Easter Season of Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventh Sunday of Easter in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday of Easter in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Easter in Year A (by Leah Schade)

The Fourth Sunday in Easter in Year A (by Leah Schade)

The Third Sunday of Easter in Year A (by Leah Schade)

The Second Sunday of Easter in Year A (by Leah Schade)

Easter Sunday in Year A (by Leah Schade)

Lent in Year A

Passion Sunday in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Lent in year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Lent in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday of Lent in year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday of Lent in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The First Sunday of Lent in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

Epiphany in Year A

The Transfiguration of Our Lord in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth).

The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Epiphany in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Third Sunday of Epiphany in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Second Sunday in Epiphany in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Baptism of our Lord in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

Advent and Christmas in Year A

The Second Sunday after Christmas in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The First Sunday after Christmas in Year A (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Advent in Year A (by Rob Saler)

The Third Sunday in Advent in Year A (by Rob Saler)

The Second Sunday in Advent in Year A (by Rob Saler)

The First Sunday in Advent in Year A (By Rob Saler)

Year B

Christ the King Sunday in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

OR Reformation Sunday in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Tom Mundahl)

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B. (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (by Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

Trinity Sunday/ The First Sunday after Pentecost in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Day of Pentecost in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Seventh Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Sixth Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Fourth Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Third Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Second Sunday of Easter in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

Easter: The Resurrection of Our Lord in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

Passion Sunday and Holy Week in Year B (Dennis Ormseth)

The Fifth Sunday in Lent in Year B (Tom Mundahl)

The Fourth Sunday in Lent in Year B (Tom Mundahl)

The Third Sunday after Lent in Year B (Tom Mundahl)

The Second Sunday in Lent in Year B (Tom Mundahl)

The First Sunday in Lent in Year B. (Tom Mundahl)

Transfiguration Sunday in Year B (Robert Saler)

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (Robert Saler)

The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (Robert Saler)

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B (Robert Saler)

All commentaries below this point were written by Dennis Ormseth.

The Third Sunday after Epiphany in Year B

The Second Sunday after Epiphany in Year B

The Baptism of Our Lord in Year B

The Nativity of Our Lord: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day

The First Sunday of Christmas and the Naming of Jesus in Year B

Fourth Sunday in Advent in Year B

Third Sunday in Advent in Year B

Second Sunday in Advent in Year B

First Sunday in Advent in Year B

Christ the King Sunday in Year A

Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

All Saints Sunday in Year A

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Reformation Sunday in Year A

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A 

Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A 

Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A 

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Third Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Second Sunday after Pentecost in Year A

Holy Trinity Sunday in Year A

Pentecost in Year A

Seventh Sunday of Easter in Year A

Previous Easter Season Commentaries for Year A.

Epiphany Commentaries for Year A

Christmas Commentaries Year A