Faithful Conversations #142

“If you hear the dogs, keep going. If you see the torches in the woods, keep going. If there’s shouting after you, keep going. Don’t ever stop. Keep going. If you want a taste of freedom, keep going.” (Harriet Tubman)

Jesus’ words in verse 19 of this week’s Gospel ignite the memory of Harriet Tubman—a woman whose fierce endurance forged legend. Born into slavery in 1822, she escaped at 27 and refused to walk free alone; instead, she returned again and again, guiding over 70 enslaved people to freedom with unshakable courage and razor-sharp cunning. The 2019 film Harriet captures just a glimpse of her fire—well worth your time. Tubman’s deep Christian faith fueled her mission; she trusted divine guidance and moved with conviction. During the Civil War, she served the Union as a scout, nurse, and spy, and shattered precedent as the first woman to lead a U.S. military raid. After the war, she championed women’s suffrage and cared for the elderly, embodying justice until her final breath. Our church calendar honors both her and Sojourner Truth on March 11—a fitting tribute to lives that refused to bend. I’ll return to the theme of endurance later in the blog.

Thanks for visiting this space again this week! Next Sunday, believe it or not, is the final Sunday of the Year C of the Revised Common Lectionary! (30 November will be the first Sunday of Advent). Two commemorations are on this week’s ELCA calendar, both falling on Tuesday. It was on 11 November in 397 that Martin, Bishop of Tours died. Hungarian born in 336, Martin was a 4th-century Roman soldier who converted to Christianity and became one of the first non-martyr saints widely venerated in Western Europe. Renowned for his humility and compassion, he famously cut his military cloak in half to share with a beggar during a snowstorm—a gesture that became emblematic of Christian charity. As bishop, he opposed violence and paganism while promoting monasticism and pastoral care, leaving a legacy that shaped medieval Christian identity. And interestingly, Martin Luther was named for Martin of Tours because he was baptized on 11 November in 1483 when he was two days old! (There’s some good Lutheran trivia for you). And we also mark the passing of Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) on Tuesday who died in 1855. It was Kierkegaard, Danish philosopher and theologian, who pioneered Christian Existentialism, emphasizing personal experience, choice, and the inner struggle of faith. He deeply influenced 20th Century theologians like Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr.

My reflections this week focus on the Malachi and Luke readings (influenced by the ongoing dialogue found in 2 Thessalonians). I also offer a musical connection to Psalm 98 that I hope you will enjoy.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Focus Passages: Malachi and Luke

Reflection: A Theology of Endurance

Starting with the celebration of Pentecost (8 June), we are now in the 23rd week of Ordinary Time, the longest season of the church year. As Professor Fred Gaiser of Luther Seminary pointed out in a commentary on the Malachi reading, we are “inundated” with several texts concerning the end times in the latter weeks of the Lectionary cycle, including the passages highlighted here. Let’s start with some historical context.

Malachi appears only a few times in the Revised Common Lectionary, most notably on the Presentation of Our Lord (Malachi 3:1–4) and in Year C’s late autumn readings (Malachi 4:1–2a). Both passages highlight themes of purification, judgment, and the promise of a coming messenger—threads that tie the Old Testament’s final words to the hope of Advent. The book was written between 460 and 400 BCE, during a time when the people of Judah had returned from exile but were disillusioned by unmet expectations of renewal. Though the temple had been rebuilt, spiritual apathy and social injustice plagued the community. Malachi confronted corrupt priests, broken relationships, and a lack of trust in God’s promises. His message, delivered in a series of dialogues, called the people back to covenant faithfulness and sincere worship. As the final book of the Old Testament, Malachi bridges the prophetic tradition with the hope of a coming messenger who would prepare the way for the Lord.

Luke 21, written four centuries later, speaks directly into the chaos following Rome’s destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE — a seismic blow to Jewish and early Christian identity. Writing decades after Jesus’ apocalyptic warnings (between 80-90 CE), Luke channels the urgency and unrest of first-century Palestine, where Roman oppression and religious conflict threatened survival. In Luke’s recounting, Jesus foretells persecution and collapse yet promises divine wisdom and endurance to those who remain faithful. For Luke’s audience, still reeling from the Temple’s fall, these words reframed suffering as a path toward redemption. (Sidebar: We have to consider that Luke would be writing for some who had a living memory of Jesus, similar to how we might think about events from the mid-1970s).

In this anxious first third of the 21st century, what can Christians draw from these ancient texts? Many lessons, but let me offer two challenges. First, Malachi urges us to rekindle faith in an age of apathy. He calls us to examine our spiritual integrity, confront institutional corruption, and renew our trust in God’s promises—not passively, but as active covenant partners. In a culture steeped in cynicism and consumerism, this summons demands sincerity and ethical courage. Second, Jesus’ words in Luke challenge us to pair endurance with wisdom in times of upheaval—whenever they arise. Early Christians faced violence, division, and cultural fragmentation (sound familiar?), yet they found hope, resilience, and salvation in Christ. Their faith was forged in fire. As we navigate our own storms, let us draw strength from their example—and follow with a quiet, fierce endurance.

Soli Deo Gloria!

A Musical Connection: “Earth and All Stars” (Brokering)

Psalm 98 calls all creation to sing a new song to the Lord—a summons that inspired (at least) two familiar hymns: Joy to the World and Earth and All Stars. Both echo the psalm’s vision of joyful, universal praise for God’s saving acts. Herbert Brokering wrote Earth and All Stars in 1964 to mark the 90th anniversary of St. Olaf College. He wove together the wonders of nature and human achievement — “loud rushing planets,” “classrooms and labs” — into a single chorus of praise. The refrain, “He has done marvelous things,” quotes Psalm 98:1 directly, anchoring the hymn in scriptural celebration. I had the privilege of meeting Brokering when he spoke at Concordia during my student years. He addressed us in Chapel and in a religion class—an unforgettable presence.

Enjoy this interpretation of the song from the St. Olaf Choir — the organist is having some fun with it — my friend, Rollie Lee will enjoy this!

A note from a commentary on Psalm 98 (J. Clinton McCann, Jr.)
“Psalm 98 is an extraordinarily important psalm. Along with the similar Psalm 96, it anchors the collection of YHWH-mlk (“the LORD reigns,” or “the LORD is king”; see verse 6) psalms, or enthronement psalms, that many commentators view as “the theological ‘heart’”¹ of the book of Psalms. Furthermore, it is likely that Psalm 98 has been sung over the past 250 years as much as or more than any other psalm. This is due, of course, to the popularity of Isaac Watts’s metrical version of Psalm 98, ‘Joy to the World.’”

Source: Working Preacher (Luther Seminary), 5 May 2024.

Prayer Reflection: A Fearless Space (Nouwen)

Henri Nouwen speaks to something deep and true here: the kind of home we build when we’re anchored in God’s love — a fearless space. In a world full of wounds, only God offers a space free from fear—a place where we can be honest, stay faithful, and grow together. This reminds me of Paul’s words in 2 Thessalonians 3:6–13. He calls us to live responsibly, to keep working, and not to grow weary in doing good. It’s a call to community that’s grounded in grace, not perfection. When we confess our weaknesses and lean into prayer, we begin to reflect the unbroken love of God—even in our brokenness.

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