Bright ideas, simple reflections — a little light for every step of the way.
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Sunday June 14 – Third Sunday after Pentecost/Lectionary 11
Readings
Exodus 19:2-8a
Psalm 100 (3)
Romans 5:1-8
Matthew 9:35—10:8 [9-23]
Hope That Does Not Disappoint
Grace and peace to you in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Let me ask you something: did any of you get up early this morning for a cardio workout? Did you spring out of bed, lace up your running shoes, and head out for a five-mile run? Maybe lift some weights? Or hop on your bike and ride all the way to the next town over and back?
Yeah, me neither. I keep telling myself I’m going to get started, but if I’m honest, I’m not a big fan of sweating—or of the suffering that sometimes comes with getting in shape. And I’ll admit it: trading buttery popcorn for celery sticks, or a thick chocolate malt for a fruit smoothie, does not sound like my idea of a good time.
Still, we know there is some truth to it: if we want to be healthy, some discomfort is part of the journey. Doctors, dieticians, nutritionists, and health coaches remind us that exercise and discipline can help us live healthier, less painful lives. And yes, they may even help the clothes in our closet fit a little more kindly.
That may be why I always feel a little uneasy when I hear Apostle Paul’s words in today’s second reading from Romans. In verse 3, Paul says, “we also boast in our sufferings.” Other translations say we “glory” or “rejoice” in our sufferings. And if you are anything like me, you may hear that and think, “Really, Paul? Rejoice in suffering?” Maybe that is one reason heaven sounds so wonderful—I am fairly sure there are no Pelotons in the heavenly realms.
But Paul does not stop there. He goes on to say that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope—a hope that does not disappoint. In other words, Paul is pointing us toward a deeper kind of strength, the kind God forms in us over time.
Of course, Paul is not talking about becoming America’s next top model, surviving “Sweatin’ to the Oldies,” or finishing a 5K or 10K race.
Paul is talking about the suffering that comes with life itself—the trials, losses, disappointments, and hardships we all face sooner or later. Those struggles do not test only our bodies. They test our hearts, our minds, our spirits, and sometimes even our faith.
But Paul is not standing over us like a drill sergeant at spiritual boot camp. He is not adding more weight to weary shoulders. He is not saying, “Try harder. Push more. Suffer longer.” No—Paul is offering us comfort.
He is reminding us that we endure by faith, not by proving ourselves strong enough. That is the heart of the gospel. We are justified—made right with God—not because we have earned it, achieved it, or suffered well enough, but because of Jesus Christ. We stand in grace as a gift. We do not carry suffering by our own strength alone. God’s LOVE has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given—GIVEN—freely to us.
And friends, that grace-filled love is at the heart of it all. Have you noticed that? When we know we are loved—not because we have it all together, but simply because we are held by God and by one another—the heavy things can feel a little easier to bear. In baptism, God has already claimed us as beloved children, and that promise holds even when life feels uncertain.
Even exercise and dieting can be easier when someone walks that road with us. Love helps us go the extra mile. Love moves us to step outside ourselves for the sake of someone else. In Lutheran language, that is vocation: God working through ordinary people in ordinary places to care for the neighbor. And when love asks something of us—even something hard—the burden is lighter because we are not alone.
That is the love of God—the love that carries us through the hardest seasons. It is love for every one of us, even in our sin and weakness. This is not cheap optimism or a command to smile through pain. It is gospel promise: because God’s love has been poured into us through the Holy Spirit, suffering does not get the final word. Christ does. God can meet us in the struggle, form endurance in us, and grow in us a hope that will never disappoint.
And we need that kind of love in our world right now, don’t we?
Here is the good news: I still see that love of Christ at work in people. We see painful things on television and social media, and we hear plenty about the anger, division, and hurt that seem to mark so much of life these days. That is real. We do not need to deny it. But thanks be to God, there are still countless people quietly living out the gospel by choosing mercy, compassion, and love of neighbor.
They are the people who see suffering and refuse to look away. They do what they can, where they can, not to earn God’s love, but because God’s love has already been given. They become, by grace, little signs of Christ’s presence in a hurting world.
Fred Rogers—Mr. Rogers—called them “the helpers.” He once said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”
Prayer: Gracious God, source of mercy and hope, we give you thanks today for the people through whom your love becomes visible—the helpers, the neighbors, the servants, the quiet witnesses to your grace. Thank you for working through ordinary hands, ordinary feet, ordinary words, and ordinary acts of compassion. Renew us in the promise of our baptism, Lord, and send us out in faith to be signs of your love, instruments of your peace, and bearers of your hope in a world that needs your mercy so deeply. We pray this in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, and all of God’s children say, Amen!
God's Yes + My Amen 