Sunday October 25th, 2026 Worship

Now, I know that others will disagree with me, but I happen to love Reformation Sunday! Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t because I think we should be celebrating the ways that our faith has fractured over the years or that we should be elevating Martin Luther and the other reformers to a “God-like” status. But, I love the way this day intentionally grounds us in who we are, bringing us back to the heart of our faith, while also helping us understand that what has been isn’t the only way that we can continue to exist! It isn’t a celebration of the division, but a recalling of our attention to the ways in which God has been and always will be an example of reformation for us; from the stories of Scripture to the fact that we call the Bible the “Living Word,” we see the ways in which life is always changing around us, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing!
Historians will often say that “Reformations” happen approximately every 500 years. For anyone that has done the counting, we are currently at 509 years since the Protestant Reformation when Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg. My youth may be showing when I say this, but the last 9 years being formed in an ELCA college, Seminary, and congregations has given me a different perspective on this idea of reformation than I had when I was going through Confirmation and World History classes when we were taught about it more as a historical event and a piece of our story as Lutheran. Because, for a people who commemorate the Protestant Reformation every year, recognizing that we, quite literally, would not be who and where we are today without the Reformers actions, we can often still be so afraid of any changes, especially as they relate to our faith and our churches! As the world around us feels so chaotic and unstable, so many want church to stay the way it has always been. It’s a source of comfort for many, a return to a liturgy and experience where you know approximately what is going to happen (unless your pastor keeps messing with things in worship like I have been doing lately, and will continue to do a little bit today too). The routine is a sources of comfort to our anxious and overloaded nervous systems.
Many of us pastoral leaders went into the pandemic recognizing that this global experience would inherently change the way we understood ministry. How could it not?! But, in the years that have followed, there is still so much desire for things to “go back to the way they were,” whether that be the height of church attendance in the 1950s and 60s or the years right before COVID. We see it in this focus on numbers, whether that be people in the pews or dollars coming into the church. We also see it in the ways that we have had to re-learn how to be collaborative with our fellow ELCA congregations and ecumenical partners because our focus on numbers drew us to see them not as colleagues in ministry, but as competitors for the same people. I’m not saying that any of this was intentional, but I can’t help but see the ways that we have become like the Roman Catholic Church of Martin Luther’s era. We have been so focused on the big shiny ideas the world tells us to focus on and maintaining everything we created that we have become distracted from the Gospel and what it is actually supposed to mean for us to be church together.
I realize that I might be getting a bit controversial, but I genuinely believe that we are approaching a new Reformation point in the church. For some of you, you may have been thinking this too, or for others, this may be a completely new and unsettling concept. But, as we see a rise in Christian Nationalism and our churches being implicitly and explicitly overtaken by the teachings of capitalism, we are called to speak truth to what it means to actually be the people of God, to do as Jesus is asking in today’s Gospel (John 8: 31-36). Like Luther and the others who saw the ways in which the church was being led away from their mission, we are being empowered to name the ways in which we have been led astray and are in need of God’s grace and guidance to find our path forward again. This is so much larger than just our congregation or our Synod, but is something that has an impact for so many Christians across the United States. This right here is why I love Reformation Sunday, not because we get to wear red and celebrate what Luther, Melanchthon, and the other Reformers did, but to learn from their witness as we claim our voices in our own day and age. We aren’t just continuing something from 509 years ago, but we are listening to where our God who has creation and re-creation so deeply entangled in God’s own identity is calling us next.
Now, I know that what I am saying probably feels daunting and overwhelming! You’re wondering how I can stand up here and say these things, and you may be wondering if I am going to tell you that we need to endure the many challenges and hardships that Luther and the others faced. I’m not going to tell you that we need to go nail theses to the Churchwide office door in Chicago, or that we are too far gone to change as Christians in our country. Because we may not even notice how easy it is to slip back into a works-minded way of thinking, even as we are reminded again that we are saved by grace alone through faith alone (Romans 3: 28). But, I do think this is a great time for all of us as the church to reaffirm who we are and what we are doing in the world. Especially in this age of globalization and disconnection, what does it mean for our churches to be centered in our communities? To be places of local care and support; to hear the needs of the community around us and see how our gifts and skills can impact our neighbors for the better. To trust that God is calling us into something here and now, together, that may be unlike anything we have ever experienced before; hearing the promise that God is with us, even in the fear and unknown.
I remember one time, when I had ordered pizza for the teachers at Broadview-Thomson, I also ordered pizza for the teachers at the school where Emily was teaching, and she told me that several people were genuinely shocked that a church could or would do that. Whether that is what we as church people are intending or not, I was reflecting with some others this past week about how it often feels like everyone is trying to sell us something these days, even churches. It’s why our bodies tend to elicit a bit of a fear reaction whenever we hear a knock at the door because we assume someone wants something from us. And, that breaks my heart because it is so far from what we have been taught about God’s unending grace and love for all of creation. Of loving the neighbor simply for the sake of extending God’s care to them, not because we want them to come to church or tell their friends how great we are or feel like they need to do something for us in return. Church is supposed to be a place where people can gather to be loved, supported, nourished, and reminded of their belovedness; it isn’t a place where it is supposed to feel like there is a cover charge just to get in.
With all that said, there is something that I want to be clear on here, when Jesus is talking to the Judeans in today’s Gospel, those were a faithful people (John 8: 31-36). Jesus isn’t condemning them for their faith, but he is trying to help them see a different way forward in their faith. We do not get to sit here and condemn people for the way that they practice their faith, but it does mean that we sometimes need to be open to the ways that God is inviting us to think about our ministry differently. We are called to think about the ways in which we might be like the Judeans, even when we may want to look on them with judgement for not just immediately understanding what Jesus was doing. Because it is hard to see the church change, even if it is for the better. We forget that there is still so much grief involved because even if it wasn’t perfect, it still gave something to us, nourished us with faith or community at a time when we needed it. That truth can’t be dismissed either.
At the same time, we can recognize that this intention to lean into a spirit of reformation comes from our deep love of God and the church. We want to stick with it and see it change for the better, to be more faithful to the Gospel instead of worldly values because we care so much about it. If we didn’t, we could simply just walk away. In all honesty, it’s one of the first reasons I felt for wanting to be a pastor, and what Emily reminds me of every time an opportunity to serve the Synod or the larger church is presented to me. I have hope that God is calling us to something new, if only we can create the space to tend to our grief and trust in what God is doing, even if we can’t always see it right away. This, dear church, is our call to reformation; may we risk the courage to answer that call together.