Monthly Archives: December 2025

Third Sunday of Advent • Matthew 11:2-11 • December 14, 2025

This sermon was offered to Bethany Lutheran Church in Minot, ND on the Third Sunday of Advent, December 14, 2025. We also celebrated the installation of the Rev. Dave Myers as senior pastor.

A livestream video of the service is available here.

Sisters and brothers, friends in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus who comes among us still – our hope and our joy. Amen.

It is so good to be with you this weekend Bethany and Deering Lutheran Churches. I’m so grateful for Pastor Dave, for your staff and elected leadership, and for the many ways you live out the mission and ministry God is calling you into each day. You are a blessing to this church for which I am very grateful.

Yesterday, many of you participated in one of the most unique Bethany Lutheran Church ministry traditions – the lutefisk and meatball dinner! I apologize for not being able to be with you for that event. This bishop with a German-Russian heritage would have loved to enjoy some meatballs and lefse with you yesterday. An event like a church lutefisk dinner brings together community, history, and just a touch of courage.

I mean, come on, only the church could take something as polarizing as lutefisk and turn it into a fantastic time of fellowship!

And maybe that’s a good image for us to have today – God showing up in places we don’t expect God to be, among people we don’t expect God to pay any attention to, doing things we could never have thought of on our own.

 In our gospel reading today, John the Baptist, whom we heard from last week, calling us to repent and prepare the way of the Lord, now finds himself in a prison cell. John had preached boldly, prepared the way, baptized large crowds of people, and proclaimed that the Messiah was coming.

And now, sitting in Herod’s prison, he wonders, “Are you (Jesus) the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

It might just be one of the most honest questions we can find in Holy Scripture.

And if you and I are being honest with ourselves, it is a question that we’ve asked at some point in time along our journey of faith. After all, it is the question for those of us who are trying to prepare the way, but can’t yet see the fullness of the promise of the Way.

Note how Jesus responds. In much the same way he always seems to respond.

He doesn’t use guilt, shame, judgment, or scolding. No lecture.

Jesus sends a message to John with what he needs most: a word of witness.

“God and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”

Jesus doesn’t answer John’s question by saying, “Yeah, I’m the one. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

Rather, he answers by saying, “Look where God is moving. Look at what God is doing!”

Look at the wounds being healed.

Look at the lives being restored.

Look at the good news taking on flesh in real human beings.

And today, Bethany and Deering, you hear that same word.

Your congregations have known seasons of hope and strength. You have also known seasons marked by division; times with more questions than answers; times of uncertainty as you walk through pastoral, membership, and staff transitions; times when you wonder if God does have a future in mind for Bethany Lutheran Church or Deering Lutheran Church on the prairies of North Dakota.

 You’ve weathered challenges – some unique to your congregations, and some shared by congregations across this synod and church.

When I first met with your congregation at the beginning of the most recent transition, I told you that I spend about 75% of my time working with congregations doing mediation and conflict management. Oftentimes, it requires more than 75% of my time as your bishop. You aren’t alone during challenging seasons.

It’s important for us to remember that installation days like the one we celebrate today are not celebrating the employment of a new pastor. They are gospel moments.

After all, a pastor is called to be in a relationship with a congregation. And a congregation is called to be in relationship with a pastor.

You didn’t hire Pastor Dave, and he didn’t hire you.

The installation of a pastor is a day when the church celebrates that God is still active here. God is still calling leaders. God is still drawing this community of faith forward in mission and ministry.

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Pastor Dave, your call here is not to be the Messiah. Bethany and Deering already have a Messiah. Your call is to help God’s people keep watch for the signs of the kingdom.

To point the people God has called you to walk with in faith to the places where Jesus is healing, restoring, raising, and renewing.

To stand with God’s children in hope when questions arise.

And to walk with them in joy and sorrow as God’s grace breaks open in unexpected ways.

And, Bethany Lutheran Church, and your sister church in Deering…your call is just as holy.

The installation of a pastor is also the installation of a faith community.

You have been in a relationship with Pastor Dave for a while now. But today, your relationship begins anew.

Today is an affirmation that you make before God, promising to pray, support, encourage, dream, and serve together.

Today is a reminder that ministry and mission is always shared; it is never carried by one person. Today is an invitation to not only look at your history, but at the unfolding future God is shaping among you, right now, today.

The signs of the kingdom are here, if we are willing to open our eyes and hearts to see them.

The signs of the kingdom are here in the warmth of a lutefisk and meatball dinner that is welcome to everyone, even a sometimes-grumpy German-Russian.

The signs of the kingdom are in the ministries you lead within the walls of these congregations, sending people out to bless and serve your neighbors in Minot and Ward County, across the nearly 160 congregations of the Western North Dakota synod and the nearly 9,000 congregations of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and alongside nearly 80 million Lutheran Christians who we are in communion with through partnerships like the Lutheran World Federation, ELCA World Hunger, Global Refuge, Lutheran Disaster Response, Lutheran World Relief, and many others.

The signs of the kingdom are in children and adults who gather to hear the good news of Christ Jesus proclaimed each week with faithful persistence to and for a world hungry for mercy and meaning.

These are examples of the good news Jesus sends back to John in today’s gospel reading.

This is the good news that comes to Bethany Lutheran Church today.

This is the good news that comes to Deering Lutheran Church today.

This is the good news we declare over Pastor Dave Myers as he begins a new chapter of his ministry among you today.

The Messiah has come.

The Messiah continues to come.

The kingdom is breaking in.

And you and I – together – get to be witnesses of this good news.

Sisters and brothers in Christ, as we continue along our Advent journey this year, keep asking bold questions. Keep looking for Jesus in surprising ways. Keep trusting that God is at work in ways that are deeper and wider than we can yet imagine.

And may the joy promised this day, the joy of John’s question met by Jesus’ healing, root itself deeply in these congregations, deeply in your pastor, and deeply in the ministry and mission you share in Christ’s name.

Blessed is anyone, Jesus says, who takes no offense at him.

Blessed is anyone who trusts that God is still acting.

Blessed is Bethany Lutheran Church and Pastor Dave Myers in this new season of life together and call in mission.

Thanks be to God. Amen.


Matthew 3:1–12 • December 7, 2025 • Max & Garrison

This sermon was offered to St. Paul Lutheran Church in Garrison, ND & Our Savior’s Lutheran Church in Max, ND on Sunday, December 7, 2025. In addition to worshiping together and celebrating the sacrament of Holy Communion, we also installed two synod-authorized ministers to serve these fantastic congregations on the North Dakota prairie!

Sisters and brothers in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ. Amen.

First, thank you for welcoming me into your congregations today. It is good—truly good—to be with the people of God in Max and in Garrison. Today, we celebrate not only the season of Advent but the installation of two synod-authorized ministers who will serve among you. God has been at work in and through this place for generations. God is at work here now. And God will continue to work through these communities of faith long after any one of us is gone. Thanks be to God.

As your bishop, I have the joy of worshiping in a different congregation almost every week of the year. And every place I go—large or small, city or country—I see the same thing: faithful people offering the gifts God has already given them—your hands, your voices, your time, your generosity. The ministry of Our Savior’s and St. Paul’s is possible because of you.

And the ministry of our church is possible because of you across the nearly 160 congregations of the Western North Dakota Synod.

Ministry is possible because of you in congregations and ministries across the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

And ministry is possible because of you in global relationships that we have like Lutheran World Relief and the Lutheran World Federation, organizations that connect us together with nearly 100 million Lutheran Christians around the world.

All because of you. Or, maybe I should say, because of what God is doing through you.

And, you and I do not do any of this alone. We never have. We never will.

Every year on this second Sunday in Advent, John the Baptist steps out of the wilderness and into our lives again. And every year, he reminds us that following Jesus isn’t a passive hobby. It is a way of life that calls for honesty—deep honesty about ourselves, our world, and the gap between what is and what God longs for.

And let’s be honest: the world of 2025 feels different than it did last year or ten years ago or during our grandparents’ time in this world.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but it feels like the anxieties we carry are heavier today. Division and suspicion of our neighbors are louder.

Rural places feel the strain of change—economic pressures, declining populations, uncertain futures.

Churches everywhere are navigating new realities.

People are tired.

Into that world—our world, in December 2025—John’s voice comes to us yet again: Repent.

Not “feel bad.”

Not “beat yourself up.”

Not “prove you’re worthy.”

To “repent” is a word that literally means to turn.

To face a new direction.

To see differently.

To change because God is already changing us.

Repentance is not shame-based.
Repentance is possibility-based.
Repentance is a holy invitation to say, “Lord, reshape me. Make me new. Turn me again toward your kingdom.”

I think most of you already know this from my story, but in case you don’t. I didn’t grow up Lutheran. And I certainly didn’t grow up imagining I would one day wear a bishop’s cross and preach in places like Max and Garrison.

My early adult life was music and travel, late nights and smoky bars. I had big dreams and even bigger hair.

I believed in God because my mother told me I should. But I had not yet met a community that helped me understand what “repentance” really meant. Repentance for me was something that I was never going to actually be able to accomplish.

When I eventually wandered into an ELCA congregation, what surprised me most wasn’t the liturgy or the preaching. It was the welcome. The freedom to ask questions. The patient teaching. The grace. The laughter.

The sense that faith could be an honest journey of ups and downs.

And when a community welcomes you as you are, you find yourself…turning. Changing.

Repenting in the truest sense. Becoming a different person than you were before.

What I began to learn is that repentance is less about guilt and more about growth.

Less about shame and more about transformation.

Less about looking backward and more about God turning us forward.

Advent remains one of my favorite seasons—not because of the lights or the music or the countdown to Christmas, but because Advent refuses to let us settle for the world as it is.

Advent tells the truth.
Advent names the hunger in us.
Advent invites us to imagine a world shaped not by fear, but by hope.
Not by scarcity, but by promise.
Not by anger, but by the peace of Christ.

And in this moment—a moment that can feel polarized, anxious, or complicated by many of us—Advent, in fact, might be the most countercultural thing the church does.

John the Baptist shows up every year on the second Sunday of Advent because we need him.

We need the reminder that God’s people are always being reshaped and reoriented, and renewed.

Sisters and brothers, it is good—so good—to be with you today. Thank you for your ministry. Thank you for your partnership. Thank you for the ways you embody the gospel on these prairies.

The kingdom of heaven has come near.
Christ is drawing close.
God is turning this world toward hope.

So let us turn too.

Repent.
Prepare the way of the Lord.

And give thanks—always—in the eternal truth that God meets us in our turning with unconditional mercy, grace, and peace. Thanks be to God. Amen.