22nd Sunday after Pentecost
November 9, 2025
St Francis Luthern Church
Pastor Elizabeth Ekdale, Bridge Pastor
Dear Friends in Christ,
In the church, we are nearing the end of our worship year. These next Sundays, our scripture will speak of end times, the need to watch and wait and to stand firm in our faith. Our final Sunday in November will be a grand beginning -- a new church year, an installation of our new Director of Music, a new liturgical season, Advent, my favorite season of the church year and our hope-filled countdown to not only the birth of our savior but the return of our savior -- but we are not there just yet.
In my own life of beginnings and endings, I have to work hard to stay in the present -- to remain in the moment. With a mother who is experiencing the downward spiral of dementia and ongoing health crises, I regularly project myself into the future facing her death. I think the psychological term is “anticipatory grief”. But I am discovering when I do this, I miss out on the gifts my mother continues to give me in those very precious moments when I am present with her. I have realized I am a work in progress of living in the moment and staying present with myself.
Our second lesson and our gospel reading from Luke provides for us compelling reasons to stay in the present, particularly in anxious times.
The community St. Paul or one of his co-workers was writing to in Thessalonica was exhorted to live in the present and not the future, despite current persecution and hardship. They were under a false belief that Jesus had already returned for the 2nd time, something that people were longing for but clearly hadn’t occurred just yet. Imagine in the midst of hardship and yearning for Christ’s coming, receiving a letter which commends the community to stay true to the gospel, to continue to grow in faith and to love one another. Stay in the moment. The author writes, “stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught and may Jesus Christ comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.” For a community experiencing deep uncertainty about their lives, these words were a balm of hope.
Our gospel from Luke is a particularly thorny piece of scripture. Some context is helpful. Having wept over Jerusalem and driven out those using the temple as their own personal marketplace, we hear what Jesus has been doing each and every day. Jesus was in the public square of Jerusalem -- in and around the temple -- sharing God’s welcoming and inclusive message of love and justice. Remember, Jesus is in intense conflict with the temple leadership and political forces. His authority is being questioned, his identity being challenged, and loyalty to God being disputed. Instead of worrying about the future, Jesus stays present with the people -- a ministry of presence we might describe it -- and remains true to his calling: healing, feeding, touching, and welcoming.
Enter the Sadducees who were a powerful wealthy group of men who controlled the temple and did not believe in the resurrection of the dead. They begin their encounter with Jesus with a classic yet convoluted “what if” question. A question asked not from their desire for honest inquiry. They are baiting Jesus, hoping to trip him up and embarrass him.
Now, what really spikes my blood pressure when listening to this “What if” question in this entrenched patriarchal context is the widow being so casually passed on from one brother to the next. Yes, it was part of the religious culture of the day, maintaining the legacy of the oldest brother after his death. But it was at the expense of the role of women. She wasn’t viewed as a full human treated with the dignity a child of God deserves -- she was merely a reproductive receptacle for the sake of the system. If she were to produce a son, the son would be credited back to the first deceased brother. That is all that mattered, which reduces her role to one of reproductive servitude.
Jesus' answer is worthy of further reflection. He respectfully and patiently responds to their question regarding resurrection rather than the attitude which prompted it. Frankly, I would have liked Jesus to have addressed the patriarchy in their question, but unfortunately he does not.
Rather, Jesus does point his listeners and thus us to the sure and certain promise of the resurrection. True, we aren’t told exactly what the resurrection will look like but we are given glimpses of it. It will be qualitatively different from the here and now -- the relationships between spouses, siblings, and family members will also be very different in the resurrection therefore, the question asked by the Saducees becomes irrelevant.
Luke draws our attention squarely on the promises of God embodied in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is the promise now on which we hang our faith. We don’t have to worry about the future resurrection or wondering “will I get to heaven” which some Christians obsess about. It is the promises from a gracious and steadfast God which fuels our hopeful living in the here and now.
Everyday Jesus was in and around the temple patiently teaching the crowds about God’s community in which everyone was welcome, valued, and loved -- not loved by God sometime in the future -- but loved right now.
In this moment, we are held by the promises of God -- and in the next moment and the next. Whatever keeps us awake at night or gnaws at our stomach or traps us in fear, remember we are held and loved by God -- promises enfleshed in Jesus Christ -- in bread, in wine, in water -- for you, here, now.
We don’t know what tomorrow will bring but we can trust in what this moment offers -- God present with us, forgiving us, claiming us, and empowering us to live fully present -- in the here and now -- held and secure in God’s loving embrace.Thanks be to God. Amen.