Weekly Sermon: 07-12-2026 - Grounded in Creation - Air

Holy Gospel according to Mark. Glory to you, O Lord.

On that day of teaching parables, when evening had come, Jesus said to them,

let us go across to the other side.

And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was.

Other boats were with him, and a great wind storm arose, and the waves veed

into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.

But Jesus was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.

And they woke him up and said to him, teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?

And waking him up, he rebuked the wind and said to the sea, be silent, be still.

Then the wind ceased and there was a dead calm. He said to them, Why are you afraid?

Have you still no faith?

And they were filled with great fear and said to one another,

Who then is this that even the wind and the sea obey him?

This is the gospel of the Lord.

About two months ago, I was talking with a spiritual director,

and she observed something that I was not fully aware of in myself.

And she said to me, you're holding a lot of grief.

And I thought of the members who have passed so far this year,

Ursula Peters and Shella Groom and Doug Kaiser.

And then I thought of the friend of mine who passed away in St. Louis.

And then she said something that I didn't know that I've been thinking a lot about since.

She said, we hold grief in our lungs.

I knew immediately what she meant. When we carry grief or fear or loneliness

or too much stress for too long, it can feel hard to breathe.

Our chest tightens, our shoulders hunch up, and our breathing gets shallow.

We may still keep going, working, and caring for our family,

and showing up, and checking things off our list.

But inside, we're not breathing deeply.

Our whole body feels it. Our muscles, our heart, our mind, we're just not getting enough oxygen.

Grief does this. Fear and loneliness do this.

Sometimes the storm is outside us, like the disciples in the boat.

Sometimes the storm is inside us, like Elijah.

And with him, sometimes we end up in a cave.

You know, Elijah is one of the great prophets of Israel.

He's been courageous and faithful against the prophets of Baal.

But by the time that we meet him in today's reading, he is exhausted and afraid

and grieving, and he feels completely alone.

What are you doing here, Elijah, asks God.

And Elijah pours it all out. I have been very zealous for the Lord,

and the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, and they've killed your prophets, and,

I alone am left, and they are seeking my life to take it away.

I alone am left. That may be the loneliest sentence in all of the prophets.

Even though Elijah is not actually alone, he feels alone. and that's what matters.

It feels, when we are in grief and fear, that we are all alone, even when we are not.

We may even be sitting in a boat with others, but inside, it feels like no one can help.

I alone am left. That is cave language.

That is shallow breath language.

That is what it feels like when grief is held in our lungs.

God tells Elijah to go out and stand on the mountain because the Lord is about to pass by.

And there is a great wind, but the Lord is not in the wind. And after the wind,

an earthquake, but the Lord is not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake,

a fire, but the Lord is not in the fire.

After the fire, there is the sound of sheer silence.

Some translations say a still, small voice.

God is not in the dramatic, the shaking and the blazing, but in the silence,

the stillness, the holy quiet,

the kind of presence that does not force itself on you, but waits for you.

The kind of presence that gives you room to breathe.

And when Elijah shears the silence, he comes out of the cave,

not because everything is solved, not because his grief is gone,

not because the danger has disappeared, but because God is there in a breath-sized silence.

God is with Elijah, even in grief and loneliness.

God is with Elijah in the silence where at last he can hear his own breath deep enough to hear it.

The disciples in the boat, however, cannot hear their own breath

at the moment because their storm is whirling across the sea and swamping their

boat, and they are terrified for their lives.

But Jesus sleeps in the storm as if it is a lullaby.

So they wake him up. "'Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?' That

is another honest prayer.

"'Do you not care?',

Oh, the loneliness of that prayer. I think many of us have prayed this at some point in our lives.

God, do you not care that I am exhausted,

that my family is hurting, that people are afraid, that children are anxious,

that immigrants are frightened, that families are being pulled apart?

Do you not care that we are perishing?

Jesus wakes up. He rebukes the wind and says to the sea, Be silent.

Be still.

And the wind ceases, and there is a dead calm.

The storm does not get the final word. Fear does not get the final word.

The disciples are reminded they are not alone in the boat even when they are afraid.

Jesus speaks not just to the storms but to the disciples hearts as well. Be silent.

Be still.

And perhaps Perhaps in that silence, they too can hear their own breaths.

Maybe they too can finally breathe deeply out of the panic.

Elijah is not alone in the cave. The disciples are not alone in the boat.

We are not alone in our grief, in our fear, in the storms of our lives.

Even when our breath gets shallow and we cannot see the way forward,

this is the gift of the air that we breathe.

From the beginning of creation, God is the giver of breath.

Genesis tells us that God breathes life into the dust of the earth, almost like a kiss.

It's a very intimate image of creation when God breathes life into the dust of the earth.

God gives breath to every creature.

Every inhale is an act of grace. Every exhale is a release of what we cannot do on our own.

Every breath is a small reminder that our lives are held by God,

who recreates us moment by moment by moment by moment, breath by breath by breath

by breath, with the gift of air.

Every time you take a breath, it is God's yes to you, to your life, to your purpose.

God is saying, yes, I am still working through you, Brenda.

The next breath, yes, Karen, I am with you and working through you.

The next breath, yes, Anthony, I'm giving you life this moment and the next

moment, this next breath. Yes, Caitlin.

Every breath is a yes to you, to your purpose, to being recreated by God.

Who recreates us moment by moment.

We do not create the air. We simply receive it. We receive God's yes.

We do not earn the spirit. God breathes the Spirit into us.

We do not have to hold all of the grief. We don't have to hold it.

God gives us breath enough.

To release it. One tear at a time, one deep breath at a time,

out in the healing of the creation.

So the invitation for this week is really very simple.

Breathe.

Breathe deeply. Get outside and breathe deeply.

Just as a prayer. It's literally called a breath prayer.

There's such a thing, a breath prayer. Breathe in.

God is here. Release. I am not alone. Breathe in.

Christ is with me. Release. Peace.

Peace. Be still. Breathe in. The spirit fills me.

I release fear. I release grief. I release anxiety, whatever it is.

Pick your own words that speak to your reality. Air is more than a creation

theme in a sermon series.

Air becomes the sign of God's sustaining presence, his chosenness for you.

His purpose for you, his yes to you.

And having received God's life-giving breath, We become people who help others

breathe deeply and to feel God's yes in their lives.

And this is part of what we're doing today by having a mission Sunday in the

middle of the summer. How awesome is that?

And we've heard from our sisters at Emanuel Lutheran Church in Dallas and listened

to what our siblings in Christ are doing in mission, and it's just wonderful.

And today we are making the hygiene kits for people preparing for immigration

appointments and court dates and job interviews.

We're helping with school uniforms. We're writing notes of encouragement for families.

We're teaching our children to be in mission. Say El is having a bake sale to

help support a cat sanctuary and we can do that as well. Isn't that awesome?

I'm so proud of Seyel for being a child in mission. Yay, Seyel.

And these are not small things.

Because tots are part of the creation that we care for.

And a shower can help someone breathe deeply knowing they are not alone.

And a new uniform can help a child breathe deeply knowing that they belong here.

And a note that says you are loved, you are welcome, we are praying for you,

can help someone breathe deeply trusting that they are part of a community.

And two congregations that stand together in partnership and mission can help

all of us breathe God's presence together as we see Christ in each other.

This is what the body of Christ does. We look for Christ who is always with us.

And through his power, we listen to the human story and what God is calling us to in it.

We make room for grief and we listen to fears. And then we speak peace into storms.

We let the breath and grace of God move through us for the sake of the world that God so loves.

And so today we celebrate that God gives us presence and peace and one another

all through the sustaining air and breath of God.

God is as near as your next breath. The spirit is moving in silence and Christ is in the boat.

Whatever image you're grabbing onto, God is with you and saying yes.

You are not alone. So breathe in. God is here. Let me hear you. Take a big breath.

God is here. Breathe it out.

Peace be still and now we're ready for mission together after church let everybody say amen.

Plants and creatures beside you and galaxies above you declaring god's wonder

honor create them share her gifts walk gently for the sake of your name a generationistic mom

go in peace as you love serve and love all,

they say to god and we will if you're inspired by this week.