Love’s Word is an Opening!

Friends of Faith,

We spent Lent and Holy Week watching.

We watched Jesus teach in life-changing ways. We watched him heal, watched people come alive around him — and watched others grow quietly, nervously afraid. His news of the new kingdom was a threat, and the people who benefit most from the “way things are always done” get anxious. Then, when people with power get anxious, they reach for their power as an answer.

But that power is not the end of the story. Even when that prideful power is our own, it is not the end of the story.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen.

What some tried to squash with death, God brings back to life. And what God reveals in that moment is that Love survives. Love exists beyond the reach of death. Love — stubborn, persistent, risen love — gets the last word.

And even that is not the end. Love’s word is an opening. It is, as Jesus had been saying all along, the new kingdom arriving. Not in power and dominance, but in resurrection and return.

In Easter sermons we’ve met a fictional detective (Doug Noir) trying to understand what has changed/opened. He keeps showing up at the scene of resurrection, notebook in hand, looking for witnesses. And what he keeps finding is that the witnesses won’t stay witnesses. (Love’s word is an opening!) The Life is afoot and changing things. Folks who may have just been watching, they are suddenly they’re in it. Spectators have become actors.

And that’s a key pattern to Easter’s real story with us:

All of us who watched from a distance, all of us who stood at the edge, or who still stand there at the edges of Christian discipleship, Easter Life draws us in. It means to make actors out of spectators, because Love’s Word is an Opening.

That’s where we are in May. Easter behind us, Pentecost ahead. We’ve been found by the story, gathered in from the edges, and now — like every witness Doug Noir has ever interviewed — we find we can’t quite stay neutral about it.

The kingdom was never just for the insiders. You are called a participant in the Love and Triumph of God’s mission.

May Easter life roll on!,

+Pr Shaun

Holy Week 2026

Friends of Faith, The beginning of this month is our church’s Holy Week. Think on that with me. This is the week that is set apart, claimed, distinguished, and observed. This is the “great week” of our faith. This is what we lift up high (“lift high the cross”). And what is it? What are we lifting up? The complete, unreserved self-giving of God in Jesus Christ. Feet washed. Bread broken. A life poured out. That is what holiness looks like when God shows it to us in the flesh. And what we’ll participate in during “Holy Week” is this very good news that we are always proclaiming. I like the mysterious and powerful way that our eucharistic liturgy puts it, quoting Paul from his first letter to the Corinthians: “when we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” That’s Holy Week’s proclamation and announcement: our Lord’s way is service, even of all of life! Paul’s point — and John’s foot-washing makes it unavoidable — is that “proclaiming” is not merely liturgical. It is bodily. It is social. You proclaim the Lord’s death when you take the servant’s position with someone whose feet are dirty. When you show up for the person no one else wants to deal with. When you absorb cost instead of passing it on. When you give what you have rather than protecting what you’ve earned. This is the theology of the cross lived outward. And our communion with God, our participation in Holy Week, forms us into people whose lives take on this shape— broken, poured out, given for the life of the world. I know it is a daunting calling. It’s been daunting for the church all along, and along all these sixteen centuries in which the church has labeled this week “Holy Week.” But the church will keep proclaiming it, this week and beyond, because we keep on receiving from this life-giving God. We are washed. We are fed. And so we are caught up in the contagion of all the grace we receive. We proclaim the Lord’s death, which is his way of life. That’s what all this is about. And so it must be what we are about. It is what makes any of this, or any of us with God, “holy.” Blessed Holy Week church, +Pr Shaun

February, Life Growing Up

The days are growing longer. Light is creeping back into our Truckee Meadows, minute by minute, as we move deeper into Epiphany. In this period of lengthening days, with earlier sunrises and later sunsets, it’s also the liturgical season when we celebrate Christ as the light of the world—and when we ask what it means to walk in that light ourselves.

We brought up the idea of vision and mission statements at our congregational annual meeting. It will be good to revisit what we proclaim together as Faith Lutheran Church.

And it’s just wonderful, and challenging, and… exciting that in our Lectionary on the VERY NEXT SUNDAY we get the beginning of Jesus’ sermon on the mount. We get the beatitudes—the “blessed are” promises. And they run so counter to the way our world, and so our worldly brains and practices and habits, run!

Jesus announces, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

What might this look like in our lives? The person struggling with doubt about their faith—poor in spirit—finds themselves at home in God’s kingdom? The neighbor grieving a loss discovers comfort not in platitudes but in the presence of those who sit with them in silence? The colleague who doesn’t claw their way to the top but treats others with gentleness inherits something far more lasting than a corner office? The person burning with a desire for justice, even when it seems impossible, will find themselves satisfied in ways the world can’t measure?

Believing Jesus, we believe these promises drive us toward God and community. Jesus goes first and embodies these promises for us all. And then we give them to each other and our neighbors! 

We revisit this list of blessed ones, like a vision statement, meeting us in our different needs over times and helping us celebrate the diversity of community. We need the mourner and the meek, the merciful and the peacemaker. We need those hungering for righteousness to wake us up, and those pure in heart to show us what love looks like without agenda.

Here’s the beautiful, frustrating truth: we are all always in a walk with God, who redeems us—not the list of things we accomplish or the spiritual disciplines we master. In our daily dying and rising with Christ, we are being made into these promises that serve the world. This is grace at work, shaping us into people who bless rather than conquer, who mourn rather than deny, who seek peace rather than victory.

Thanks be to God for this hard, blessed, life-changing way. 

Life growing up! Light in the darkness!,

+ Pastor Shaun

Advent Adventures

Friends in Faith,

Happiest of holidays to you, and blessed Advent season.

Things are different for me this year. Amanda and I are sharing our first married Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas together. And I can feel the difference. There is more to expect, more to share, and more to prepare!

And I think that’s fitting for Advent, really. The word means arrival—it is a time of anticipation. Something new is afoot! For the church, it’s also an intentional season of receiving God’s gifts—the ones that run counter to our obsessive culture. That’s worth paying attention to. With God there is expectation, an invitation to share, and this focused time of preparation. I hope, for you, it will be fruitful and rich and like light in the dark.

We have entered the New Year for the church, year A, and this year will draw from the gospel of Matthew. In worship this Advent we’ll explore major themes as Jesus fulfills the law, calls sinners, builds a church, and gives his life.

Four themes will shape the rhythm of our Sundays:

  • Desperation (the way out)
  • Recognition (being found and made whole)
  • Repair (healing)
  • Presence (God-with-us)

Week 1 – We walk a new way, called to awaken to reality of Jesus’ life and death. The law has brought judgment and leaves us lost, bound, needing a way through. Our Advent longing is for a road home

Week 2 – We Repent, as the Kingdom is Near. The call of Jesus is that piercing moment when someone finally sees you, names you, calls you back.”Our Advent longing is to be found.

Week 3 – We re-create, as life is New. We know the reality of hurt, relationships that fracture, spirits that need mending. The church Jesus builds is community meant for the mending. We are a restorative community and our Advent longing is for healing.

Week 4 – We show up, as God shows up! Emmanuel—Love incarnate, breathing, present in the flesh. A light has shined in our need and despair, our dark and hopelessness. We see that, all along, Our longing is for the living God.

We are blessed by each other this Advent, so I hope we’ll see you on Sundays for worship or Wednesdays for Soup Supper and Evening prayer. God’s good gifts abound, and we’re called to expect, experience, and share!

+Pr Shaun

All Saints Thoughts

Friends in Faith, 

Luther chose the eve of All Saints’ Day, October 31, to post his Ninety-Five Theses in Wittenberg because he wanted the crowds gathering for the feast day to see his challenge to the church. These two commemorations fall within a day of each other, but we honor them on separate Sundays when our community gathers for worship. Join us as we observe All Saints Sunday on November 2nd, when we will remember our Faithful Departed through readings, prayers, and the lighting of candles in their memory.

In the spirit of that celebration, let me share a powerful witness to the communion of saints I encountered during my 2022 pilgrimage to Cappadocia, Turkey.

Among the remarkable rock-cut churches we toured at the Göreme Open Air Museum—a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1985—ancient murals still glow with surprising freshness and vibrancy. Centuries ago, volcanic eruptions blanketed these valleys with soft tuff stone that early Christians carved into homes, chapels, and places of refuge. By the 4th century, believers fleeing persecution found sanctuary in these caves, and over the following centuries they created stunning examples of Middle Byzantine monumental art. The painted churches we see today date from the 10th to 13th centuries.

The most striking is called Karanlik Kilise—the “Dark Church”—where the dim atmosphere has exquisitely preserved the vivid colors painted directly onto stone. Among the many images adorning these walls, one scene particularly struck me: a Byzantine depiction of Christ’s Harrowing of Hades. In this icon, our risen Lord storms the gates of death itself, seizing Adam and Eve by the wrists while David and Solomon look on in hope. Evil lies trampled beneath Jesus’ feet. This is resurrection. This is hope for our loved ones who have died.

Standing in those ancient chapels, gazing up at these renderings of hope painted on walls and ceilings, I felt the living connection across centuries. The resurrection hope that sustained those early Christians—for hundreds and thousands of years—is the same faith in love’s triumph that knits us together today.

Martin Luther nailed his theses to the church door in hope of reform and freedom. Byzantine artists depicted Christ liberating the saints from death’s captivity as a defiant statement against evil and tyrannical powers that parade their pretend, temporal might.

Take heart, friends, and be full of Christian faith, for our God is a rescuing and reforming Savior. May we remain ever awake to the promise of the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Blessed All Saints, friends.

+Pr Shaun