September 12, 2021. Where are you called to use your hands to participate in God’s creativity and love? How can you find the courage to speak the gospel’s radical truth in the face of resistance, and hold your tongue when needed so other prophetic voices can be heard? Readings: Isaiah 50:4-9a, James 3:1-12, Mark 8:27-38 *** Transcript *** After five weeks of Jesus’ bread of life discourse, about God giving God’s self to us in very profound, real, and sometimes mystical ways, we are now on our second week of Mark showing us Jesus in all his humanity. Last week Jesus tries (unsuccessfully) to hide from the demands of the ministry he is embodying, and in the process he shows us how not to respond, and how to respond, to someone different from us. Today, as Jesus is trying to explain to his disciples just how hard the road ahead of them all is, Peter tells Jesus (in not-so-polite language) to be quiet. And Jesus in turn tells Peter (in not-so-polite language) to be quiet. In all fairness, I can sympathize with Peter, who doesn’t want to hear about what will happen to Jesus in Jerusalem, and what will happen to Jesus’ followers later. And I can sympathize with Jesus, who just wants one of his closest companions to get it, so he doesn’t have to carry this load alone. Anyone who has had hard truths to share can probably understand how Jesus was feeling, and just how disheartening it would have been to have Peter discount what he was saying to them. After all, Jesus didn’t want the cross to become a reality, any more than any of us would, or do. And yet, he knew the truth of it, and Peter trying to shut down that truth was just too much. All through our scriptures today, we see this reality: trust in God does not make things easy. In fact, sometimes the radical, unapologetic, unlimited love of God, fully embraced, can make us a target for the evil in this world, whose only mission is to close into a box that which will not be contained. Isaiah tells the Israelites that as people of faith they are called to proclaim the good news of God right into the midst of their enemies. We often read this passage in which Isaiah speaks of giving the back to those who beat it, and the face to those who pluck the beard, as being about Jesus. The hard truth here is that Isaiah is actually speaking to the Israelites living in exile among foreigners, and to all followers of God, to us, who are called to claim God’s promise exactly where it is needed the most. To call out radical love and justice for those most vulnerable, even when others are trying their hardest to shut it down. This is no small thing. Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated in an attempt to shut down his leadership in the movements for racial and economic justice and peace, not so long ago. Water Protectors standing for the protection of sacred lands, environmental justice, and clean water have faced violent resistance and even death in our own country in the last few years. Many seeking racial justice have found themselves targeted by private citizens, right-wing militia, and even government — and Heather Heyer, who was murdered by a white supremacist during the Unite the Right Rally in Charlottesville in 2017, is not the only one to have lost her life. This week, the ELCA officially welcomes Bishop Megan Rohrer (they/he), newly installed to the Sierra Pacific Synod, the first openly transgender bishop in the ELCA. Since they have served as an openly trans pastor, boldly proclaiming radical love and inclusion for all regardless of gender identity, Bishop Rohrer has received messages of hate and even death threats. This is not easy truth, family of faith. It would be so much easier, wouldn’t it, if we could just skip the cross, skip the challenge, skip the suffering, and go straight to resurrection. But Jesus tells Peter, in no uncertain terms, in not-so-polite language, that it doesn’t work that way. God has always come to bring the gospel of healing, hope, justice, and love to the broken places, and God has always sent God’s people to do the same, because that is who God is. And that is not an easy road. No wonder some of the disciples chose to leave, as we heard in our gospel a few weeks back. Our readings today carry this even further. James makes it clear that sometimes the evil trying to shut down or limit God’s love is nothing more or less than the very tongue in our own mouths. What we say can be very powerful, as Isaiah and James both make clear in today’s readings. Words can do harm and tear down, or words can build up those around us. And likewise, silence can do incredible harm, allowing untruth and evil to go unchecked, or silence can create space for truth that others need to share to be heard and honored. Silence is as powerful, or more, than words. “The Good Place” is a light-hearted comedy about an unlikely community of people who end up in the show’s version of heaven after they die, some of whom probably got there by mistake. One of them, Jason, is in the Good Place because he was mistaken for Jianyu Li, a Taiwanese monk. He jumps at the offer to “continue his vow of silence” to keep the secret. And everyone thinks he really is a monk until... you guessed it: he opens his mouth and speaks. Jason’s tongue, the second it is unbridled, makes it clear just who he is, for good or for ill. And in all of our passages today, and in Mark especially, Jesus is sharing words that make it very clear who he is, and what it will mean to follow him. Not the glory of the Messiah lifted up and honored, but the reality that following Jesus, trusting in God, means embodying the truth of God’s promises at the very center of the greatest suffering. Just as Isaiah tells the people that God is calling them to be faithful, bold, and do that in the face of their enemies. As we remember the 20th anniversary of the death and destruction of the September 11th attack on the Trade Center and Pentagon, we know there is evil in this world. We also recall those who faced the evil to bring rescue and healing wherever it was possible. Many of them died for their efforts. And we know that there is a great capacity for good. The news shows us both the evil and the good every day. And God is still present, bringing the good news of the gospel right where the suffering is greatest, and calling us, God’s people, to do the same. This weekend is also “God’s Work Our Hands” Sunday in the ELCA, highlighting our call to enter the brokenness of the world and proclaim God’s love for all, even when our enemies, or our own tongue, try to shut it down. Jesus followed this path, all the way to death. This is, at its heart, the meaning of the cross. This is not easy, family of faith. And it is no wonder that some of Jesus’s disciples turned around when they understood it, and no wonder Peter tried, in not-so-polite language, to keep Jesus from telling this truth. We can take courage knowing that even Peter and Jesus wrestled with it, and we do this not alone, but together. As we mark “God’s Work Our Hands” Sunday, where will you bring God’s message of healing and justice? Where are you called to use your hands to participate in God’s creativity and love? How can you find the courage to speak the gospel’s radical truth in the face of resistance, and hold your tongue when needed so other prophetic voices can be heard? All the way back to Isaiah, the call is clear. And all the way to today, God walks the road with us. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Isaiah 50:4-9a, Psalm 116:1-9, James 3:1-12, Mark 8:27-38

August 29, 2021. In her sermon on our readings today from Deuteronomy, Mark, and James, Pastor Meagan invites us to be quick to listen and slow to anger. Readings: Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9, James 1:17-27, Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 *** Transcript *** Reading today’s passage from James with its direction on how to live out the word of God reminded me of a young Alateen member I knew some years ago. We were in the car with their dad heading to a speaker event where they were going to tell their story, and we talked as we drove about how to best share how Alateen had helped them. When it was their time to speak, they shared for a bit and then they said, “So, how has Alateen helped me? Well, it used to be that when I was talking to my mom and she made me mad I would immediately start screaming. Now, when she says something and I get mad, I wait a minute, and then start screaming.” I’m not sure that this is exactly what James had in mind when he said, “Be slow to anger.” But hey, in twelve-step programs one of the slogans we often hear is “progress not perfection” — and progress is progress. I wonder how long it took them to end the conversation before screaming. I don’t know about you, but living out the Word of God, embodying the love of God in all that I do, often feels like a difficult, even impossible, task. All of today’s readings can make following God seem daunting. Deuteronomy says we are to not only know the law, but to observe it. James echoes that, and also says we should rid ourselves of sordidness and wickedness, or our religion will be worth nothing. Just a few verses after today’s passage comes that famous line, “Faith without works is dead.” And in today’s gospel from Mark, Jesus calls the religious leaders, who pride themselves on knowing and teaching the law of God, hypocrites, saying they honor God with their lips but not their hearts. If even the rabbis aren’t living up to God’s standards, what chance do the rest of us really have? One of reformer Martin Luther’s clear messages lifted up in the Reformation was that our salvation, our life with God, is grounded in faith, not in works. So what is up with all of these scriptures we have today, calling us not only to live out God’s law, but to do so seemingly perfectly? Because in case you hadn’t already noticed, the pastor you called just a year-and-a-half ago is far from capable of living up to the standards that not even the leaders of Jesus’ time could meet. And it’s not enough to say “James isn’t actually meant for us Lutherans who believe in grace” — not when virtually the same message appears in all the rest of our readings as well. So how are we to understand these words in Deuteronomy, and Mark, and James? How do we accomplish the seemingly impossible task of embodying the love of God, when literally no one except Jesus has ever been able to do it? The simple answer is: we can’t. That’s why we have the law to begin with. It gives us a guide for our life together, certainly. And as Luther teaches, it makes it clear to us that on our own, we can’t follow it perfectly. We will always fall short. Thankfully, we are not on our own. As my young Alateen friend so eloquently demonstrated, following God, living out love and grace, happens not when we follow the law to the letter, but when we allow the Spirit to transform us, bit by bit, from the inside out. That happens often when we least expect it and is most often visible when we look back. Moses tells the Israelites — not just one of them, but all of them as a community — that embodying the law is not about gaining God’s approval, but knowing that God is close. James wants the community of believers to know that when God enters in and changes us, slowly but surely God’s love will be revealed in all that we do. Jesus tells his listeners that God’s law is not about the lips, the head, but about the heart — and that is God’s realm. It’s not about being perfect, thank goodness, because we never will be. It’s not about having the exact right rituals or beliefs, because God is so much bigger than that. Embodying the law of God is about love, mercy, and perhaps most of all, grace. It is about recognizing when, not if, the heat of anger rises and shoots out of the top of our heads, or that knot of anxiety causes our gut to clench, and inviting God into that moment to slow us down and show us new ways to move forward. Today, we are invited to be quick to listen — to God, and to one another. To allow the word of God, and the Spirit of mercy and grace, to transform our hearts, so that more and more we embody that Spirit in the world around us. To understand that God forms us in community for a reason, so that we can grow together and learn from one another. And above all, to know in our hearts that the greatest commandment will always be love. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9, James 1:17-27, Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

August 15, 2021. In her sermon today, Pastor Meagan brings us right to the heart of Jesus' message in the Bread of Life Discourse. In giving us God’s self, Jesus tells us, what God is trying to do is provide us with nothing less than life itself. Readings: Proverbs 9:1-6, John 6:51-58 *** Transcript *** When I was young, I was a very picky eater. Family lore says the only things that I would eat were French toast, bacon, and peas — not cookies, not ice cream, not hamburgers, not popcorn. Nothing else appealed to me, just French toast, bacon, and peas. As I was the first child, and my mom’s angst was already high, my lack of eating became such a big focus that not just my parents but my younger brother all got into it, and one of my brother’s early words, spoken from his highchair with his finger pointed at me, was “Eat! Eat! Eat!” I can only imagine how stressful it must have felt for my mom as she struggled to find things that I would eat and tried to make sure that I got enough to eat, day after day. We have had a little bit of a taste of this in our house lately as we closely watch our elder kitty Gracie, who has always been a finicky grazer and has only become more picky as she's gotten older. We have found ourselves spending time every day figuring out if she wants her “special” wet food, dry food, or perhaps kitten wet food, which has been a big hit in our house lately. We encourage her to eat frequently, and not to mention keeping her sneaky brother from slipping around her tiny body to help himself to her food. Today, four weeks into this Bread of Life Discourse, Jesus is once more inviting his followers, all of us, to eat. And more so than the last few weeks, Jesus shares with us the intimacy of what he is doing. Jesus is offering bread and drink to us who are hungry, but there is more to it than that. In today’s gospel Jesus makes it clear that in Christ, God is offering God’s very self to us, in a very intimate way. And so today, with one more week to go on the Bread of Life Discourse, after several weeks of leading us closer and closer, Jesus brings us right to the heart of the message. “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” In giving us God’s self, Jesus tells us, what God is trying to do is provide us with nothing less than life itself. Often, I think, we read these words as law. This is one of those passages that, unfortunately, can be used to draw the line between who has met God’s requirements for salvation and who has not, who will receive the gift of life and who won’t. However, after so many weeks of witnessing God’s wildly extravagant abundance, the invitation to share in what God has created is extended to everyone. The promise that God provides what we need has been presented in so many ways, even when those receiving feel so thoroughly undeserving. It seems like reading this passage as law might miss the point. What if we read these words as gospel, instead? What if we hear these words of Jesus as the plea of a mother wanting, perhaps even longing, to feed her child? What if, instead of requirement and limitation, we hear in Jesus’ words the voice of a loving parent saying to us, “Come, let me feed you.” What if we understand that in these words God is offering not just a meal, but God's very self, everything — food, drink, breath, guidance, rest, love, forgiveness, creative energy, life? Each week, as we worship, we hear the words of promise in our scriptures, leading us on the path of life. We gather as God’s people to acknowledge that we need God. We hear and respond to Jesus’ words calling us to God’s table. And as we celebrate Holy Communion, we receive into our bodies, spirits, our very selves, the God who gives us not just any food, but the bread of life that only God can give. God gives us life, even when we don’t fully understand it. (Spoiler alert: next week we'll find out that the disciples don't get it either!). Even when we think we don’t deserve it, even — and especially — when we are exhausted and empty and don’t know what we need or how to find it, God provides life. Just like my mom longed to feed me the food she knew would give me life and help me grow, just like Karen and I commit ourselves to feeding Gracie. God meets us where we are and gives us life, and we're transformed from the inside out. Like the young boy with the loaves and fish, we know that God has given us everything and we have more than enough to share. Like Elijah at his lowest point, when we are exhausted we know that it’s okay to turn to God, rest and eat, and then continue the journey. Like the disciples, we can trust that it’s okay for us not to understand. We can see that our God sticks with us, and never gives up on us, even when we might feel like giving up on God. So if you are feeling exhausted today, if you are overwhelmed and not sure what the next step should be, or feeling like you have nothing left to give, hear the words of the God who gives their very self to provide everything you need. Jesus told his disciples, and tells all of us today, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” We can trust in the God whose deepest longing is to feed us. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Proverbs 9:1-6, John 6:51-58

August 1, 2021. What are you hungry for today, physically, spiritually, emotionally? What abundance do you have, that can be shared with the community and the world around you? Ask for what you need. Eat until you are full. Readings: Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15, Ephesians 4:1-16, John 6:24-35 *** Transcript *** Several times a week, the church phone or the doorbell rings and a community member asks the question, “I am hungry. My kids are hungry. Can I get a food card?” I can’t imagine being that hungry, not having food for my next meal, and the level of desperation, shame, and even despair of finding myself in that situation, with no way out. “I am hungry. My kids are hungry.” The Israelites came to Moses and Aaron with that same request. Actually, it says in our reading from Exodus today that they complained, saying that they might have been slaves in Egypt, but at least they had enough to eat. At least they weren’t hungry. For the Israelites, as they sat in the desert, slavery looked preferable to hunger. And they let Moses and Aaron — and God — know it. We are halfway through five weeks of hearing from the Gospel of John about bread, hunger, life, eating, five weeks of reflecting on what is often referred to as the “bread of life discourse.” What stands out about this week is that Jesus doesn’t actually feed people in today’s gospel reading — although he certainly talks about bread, and hunger, a lot. This particular reading can seem to discount the significance of physical bread, to suggest that those who are hungry should rely on faith in God alone to ease their hunger, until we remember that the people Jesus was speaking to had just come from eating their fill of the loaves and fishes that Jesus offered to their crowd. Eating their fill, and then some. Their bellies were already full. Knowing that, Jesus invites them to think deeper. I have never not known how I would get food for my next meal. In fact, usually my biggest challenge around food is deciding from among the many options available to me, and whether to eat something on the healthy side, or indulge myself in some kind of treat. But I have at rare times looked up from what I was doing to see that it is 2pm and I haven’t had lunch yet, or gotten caught up in an activity or errands that carried me past regular meal time, and suddenly I’m hungry. You know the feeling — a little weak, a little irritable, a little less capable of thinking clearly or making decisions. My sister-in-law calls it “hangry,” hungry-angry. When have you been really hungry, or perhaps even “hangry?” What did that feel like? How did your body feel? What was your thinking like? How did it feel when you did get something to eat? We have among us people who have studied the connections between food insecurity, hunger, and family stress and even violence, naming the reality that not having necessary food can lead to tension and even abuse. And schools have long recognized that if kids haven’t eaten breakfast, they can’t learn. From these five weeks of readings about bread we know that God understands hunger. And God feeds God’s people — all of them. Last week, Jesus invited all of the over 5,000 people to sit down together, so they could eat and be satisfied, and Elijah did the same with the people of his community. Today, we hear how God provided manna and quail in the desert for the Israelites. And now, knowing they have had their fill, Jesus and the people talk about how they were hungry and were fed. “Moses fed the people manna,” they say. And Jesus reminds them that the manna came from God, not from Moses. The manna came from God. Luther highlights this in his Small Catechism explanation of the Lord’s Prayer when he begins by saying that we don’t ask God to give us our daily bread so that God will give it to us, like some kind of reward, but so that we know God has already given us everything we need for our lives, and receive it with thanksgiving. And it is not just bread, says Luther, but food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, home, land, animals, money, goods, and the like. Anyone remember that from the catechism? Everything we have — everything — comes from God. And when God provides the manna, and Jesus feeds the over 5,000, everyone has what they need. The Israelites are specifically told to gather and eat what they need for the day, no more, and the crowds gathered around Jesus give back the abundance once they are satisfied. No hoarding or holding back. Everyone has what they need and are satisfied. Your council has discerned two primary calls for our community of faith: welcome and serve. When the Christian Service Committee met a couple of months ago and reflected on these two calls, they decided that in order to live this out in Christian service, they will choose a few ministries that are doing this well, and build partnerships that will allow us to enter into their ministry in many different ways. And for 2022, they will be seeking to partner with ministries that focus on hunger in our community. Welcome and serve, and as God so often does, start by offering food to those who are hungry. God has provided all that we need so that everyone, not just a few, will be satisfied. Jesus tells the people, now that their bellies are full, that what God provides for us goes far beyond physical food. He knows their hunger, our hunger, is deeper than that. We hunger for belonging, with God and God’s people. We long for healing and forgiveness, for the ways in which we have been wounded, and for the ways in which we have wounded others. We crave connection with the earth and all that God has created. And we thirst for the peace of God that goes far beyond what this world, with all of its beauty and brokenness, can give. As Paul writes to the Ephesians, we all also have gifts to share that are given to us to help ensure that God’s abundance, meant for all, is shared with all of God’s people. It is in community that God’s grace, mercy, forgiveness, creativity, love, and bread are available for everyone, and all are fed and satisfied. We are so fortunate to have with us Charlie, who will be baptized at Bethany Lutheran Church later today, and her family. The water and the words of baptism remind us of the truth of Jesus’ words as we have heard them today: God feeds God’s people, providing us with the physical bread our bodies need, and all of the things our spirits need for abundant life. The celebration of baptism teaches us that we are deeply connected to these promises of God, and to the community of all of God’s beloved creation that shares in this abundance together. “I am hungry. My kids are hungry.” What are you hungry for today, physically, spiritually, emotionally? What abundance do you have, that can be shared with the community and the world around you? Ask for what you need. Eat until you are full. Welcome and serve joyfully, knowing that God provides enough for all to be satisfied, and then some. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15, Ephesians 4:1-16, John 6:24-35

May 30, 2021. What does the Trinity mean for us? Why does it matter? And perhaps most important, what do the readings for today reveal about all the ways that God shows up in our world? Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, John 3:1-17 *** Transcript *** Today is Trinity Sunday, so I kinda feel like I should probably be standing up here in front of you who are in your pews, in front of you who are in your homes, and eloquently explain the doctrine of the Trinity, perhaps even using a three-leafed clover metaphor, they way St. Patrick did centuries ago. On the surface, the idea of the Trinity seems pretty straightforward — three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. One God. Simple enough, right? The reality is that life is not that simple, and as Mr. Jesse was saying, so much change happens naturally — and then on top of that, in the last year all of the “change to the change.” (I love that phrase.) And the reality is around the Trinity, wars have been fought, and people have died, because of differences in understanding the Trinity. And yet the Trinity stands, and we confess it here at Christ Lutheran every week. In the creeds we claim the Father, the Son, and the Spirit as three persons in this Triune God. And it's one of the greatest mysteries of our faith. I'm sure you will be relieved to hear that I will not attempt to sort out two millennia of conversations, battles, arguments, and council doctrines on the Trinity today. Far more important for us, I believe, is what does the Trinity mean for us? Why does it matter? And perhaps most important, what do our readings for Trinity Sunday reveal about all the ways that God shows up in our world? Psalm 29 paints this picture of God in waves crashing on the ocean, in the flashes and booms of powerful storms, and in the silent and formidable presence of enormous trees that are centuries old. God’s majesty surrounds us, overwhelms us, and although it touches us, we can’t quite bear to touch it. This is God, creator of the universe, deserving of glory, before whom none of us, truth be told, are quite ready to stand. The full majesty of God makes us quake in our boots, at least a little bit. In Isaiah, we enter a vision of God called Yahweh, seated on a throne, surrounded by seraphs singing “Holy, holy, holy!” Isaiah is called into a swirl of turmoil and anxiety of a community that has just lost their king of 30 years. Talk about change! Isaiah feels completely inadequate, and it's no surprise that his first response is, “Woe is me! I am unclean, and yet I have seen the Lord!” In a miracle of grace, God prepares Isaiah, so that he can cry, “Here am I. Send me!” And God prepares not just Isaiah, but us, you and me, to go out as witnesses to this grace. Jesus, God-in-flesh, tells Nicodemus about the intimate connection between Christ in his humanity, and us in our humanity. God came to us in Christ to bring life and redemption, to embody the love and promise, and to be in relationship with us, on our terms. And in that relationship, because of the death and resurrection of Jesus, our brokenness is redeemed, and our joy is made complete. In Christ, God enters fully into our suffering, as well as our joy. God goes through all these changes that we've been talking about with us. God is with us in that. God-in-flesh embraces our grief, and shows us through the resurrection that death and loss will not be the final word. God enters our joy, and revels with us in the beauty of creation around us. Jesus-God sits with us, eats with us, laughs with us, cries with us. Because God revealed God's self to us in Jesus, we know that God is not only majesty and splendor and power, but intimately involved in our everyday life. Because God became fully human, we know that we are never alone. We have a God who understands what it means to be human. And interwoven in all of this is the Spirit, perhaps the most mysterious aspect of the Trinity. Jesus tries to explain this to Nicodemus, too. “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” The Spirit empowers us to recognize who we are as children of God, and it is only through the Spirit that we call God Abba, Father. The Spirit breathes life to dry bones in the desert, anoints and calls the apostles in fire at Pentecost, calls Jews and Gentiles alike to baptism in the days of the early church. “The wind blows where it chooses...” And as we read this passage again 2000 years later, we can perhaps be comforted by knowing that even Nicodemus, teacher though he was, didn’t understand it fully. He badly wanted to understand, wanted in a way to touch Jesus, but then found that he just couldn’t get there. Just as Isaiah felt overwhelmed by his experience of God, so did Nicodemus. The Trinity is complex, and it's defied definition for millennia now. So, for today, it seems enough to trust that in the Trinity, our God is all things for us — majesty and power, a fellow traveler intimately acquainted with our human experience, and one who tells us who we are and empowers us to witness to the world. And when all of these things come together in the one God, something happens that goes far beyond division of labor, each person filling their appointed role. It cannot be adequately captured in any one metaphor, although I am sure you can imagine that doesn’t stop me from trying. In Quest for the Living God, Catholic feminist theologian Elizabeth Johnson describes the Trinity as three persons in a dance that never ends. She writes, “The three circling around in a mutual dynamic movement of love, God is not a static being, but a plentitude of self-giving love, a saving mystery that overflows into the world of sin and death to heal, redeem, and liberate.” Johnson presents an image of God in relationship with God's self, equal, fully grounded in love. This is the motivation for creation — God did not create the world to follow law or do God’s will, but to be in loving relationship with God, with us, and with the rest of creation. And the Trinity is one of the greatest mysteries of our faith. As hard as we may try to neatly define and understand the Trinity, we discover as Nicodemus did that God will not be contained. Paul tells us that we've been given the Spirit of adoption as children of the Triune God. We are adopted into that love that overflows into our broken world. We are intimately integrated into the mysterious, creative, moving, loving, healing, inspiring, transforming Trinity. We, along with all creation, are invited to the dance, which never stops evolving as creation continues, 2000 years after Nicodemus struggled to wrap his mind around the mysteries of God. Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind blows where it chooses... and so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” We are, Paul tells us, adopted into the Trinity, and we are called to follow the Spirit where it chooses. Not to understand, not to define, certainly not to limit — for ours is a God who will not be so easily contained. We as God’s beloveds are invited to enter the sacred dance, and empowered to join Isaiah in saying, “Here I am, send me!” We're children of the Triune God, and we follow the wind. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, John 3:1-17, Quest for the Living God, Elizabeth Johnson, Jesse Helton