“Coming Down”

All saints’ Sunday

November 2, 2025

Ephesians 1:11-23

Luke 6:20-31

Children’s Message:

Today, I’d like to read you a story about a very special quilt.

“The Keeping Quilt” by Patricia Polacco

What was special about the quilt? It reminded all the women of the family about their ancestors. It brought those that they had loved and lost into their celebrations. It kept them close to their family.

Today is All Saints’ Sunday. We’ve blessed the quilts made by our Chat and Tie ladies, and we’ll lift up the names of those who died this year as we remember. But today is particularly special. Yesterday, a woman named Cheryl died. She was the organizer that brought the ladies together to make these quilts. And though the people who receive them won’t have known her or her name, they will know that they’ve been prayed over because of the work that she and the ladies have done.

Let’s pray. Dear God, thank you for giving us ways to remember those we love. Help us never forget those who love us. Amen.

Message:

Luke’s beatitudes are a bit different than the more well-known ones in Matthew. For one, this isn’t the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus begins in prayer on the mountain, but then he comes down. He comes down to the level place—to the people seeking him—to the people in need of healing and help. Second, while the blessings are spiritualized in Matthew (blessed are the poor in spirit), Luke’s version makes it very tangible. Blessed are the poor. Blessed are the hungry. Blessed are those who grieve. And third, Luke adds to the blessings with ‘woes.’ He challenges those who are comfortable.

The question is, ‘why?’ Legend tells us that Luke was a physician. He cared for and cared about the vulnerable people around him. His vocation was healing and help. So, as he shares his understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ, he focuses specifically on the reality of vulnerability. Not just spiritual vulnerability, but real, painful, tangible vulnerability. And he doesn’t pull any punches.

In Luke, Jesus doesn’t fall into the common sense that those who have everything have been blessed by God. Instead, he calls those people out. Because he knows the importance of vulnerability. We can’t truly live; we can’t truly be faithful; we can’t truly follow Christ if we aren’t vulnerable as Christ was vulnerable. Philippians 2, called the Christ Hymn, tells us how that vulnerability played. “Though Christ is God, Christ did not grasp at the power of God but instead took the form of a slave. And as a human, became humble and obedient and vulnerable, to the point of dying on a cross.”

This is the one we are to emulate as Christians, yet we strive to do the opposite. Our Sin (big-S Sin) is that we DO grasp at the power of God. That’s what happened in Genesis when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree. They wanted to be God. They didn’t trust God’s love for them. They wanted to be in control. They didn’t want to be reliant on God. They didn’t want to be vulnerable. And as soon as they took that first bite, they realized just how vulnerable they were—naked and ashamed. And ever since, we have been fighting against vulnerability. And it has ruined every relationship we’ve ever been in.

NPR’s Invisibilia program did a feature story on oil rig workers in 2016. As you can imagine, oil rig workers are the hardest of hard men. They are rough and tough. And their work is incredibly dangerous. But not just for the reasons you may think. It is increasingly dangerous because they do not feel they are able to ask for help, to admit they don’t know something, to confess they are unable to perform a certain task. So instead of relying on each other, they take unnecessary risks.

When companies started going into deeper waters in the 1990s, a leadership consultant contacted the Shell organization to offer her services. While they thought the challenges were technical, she suggested it was personal. The men needed to learn vulnerability. Sessions went from 6am to 11pm while men shared deep-felt and personal stories. At first, they resisted. They didn’t think it had anything to do with oil rigging. But over time, they learned that vulnerability was necessary for trust. It not only improved the work environment and safety, it also improved their personal relationships with family. They no longer had to hide behind a mask.

But vulnerability is hard. Our nature tells us to show no weakness. We strive to protect ourselves from being vulnerable. We will go to any length to avoid the discomfort. And in doing so, we also avoid admitting our need for God. As long as things are going our way, as long as I have food to eat, healthcare, a roof over my head, a job, I can worship God without really NEEDING God—or anyone else. And I don’t feel the need to step up on behalf of anyone else, either. Because surely they deserve what they get. Isn’t that the narrative we’re being fed these days?

The golden rule, as we like to call it—do to others as you would have them do to you—isn’t just about taking care of people. It’s about recognizing that we are all in need of God’s mercy and grace. No amount of food or laughter can disguise our brokenness. No one is above the reality of mortality.

Jesus came down to a level place. Where no one was above another. And he served. He fed. He taught. He healed. Whether we like it or not, we are in that level place. The blessings AND the woes are for each of us—reminding us that we can’t hide from vulnerability forever. Nor should we want to. Because it’s in the vulnerability and brokenness that we find each other. And it’s in those relationships that we know we are not alone.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE