It happened just a little way off Allamakee Street.
My lovely wife, Julie, and I, and our three littles had stepped from the safety of our trusty minivan and set foot onto the grounds of the 158th Allamakee County Fair – in full swing just a couple weeks after we moved to Waukon in 2011. And it didn’t take long for the intoxicating sights and mesmerizing sounds to stop us dead in our tracks: The gleam of shiny, new farm equipment, the flashing of lights and screams of excitement on the midway, the faint moos and clucks and oinks echoing across the grounds.
Unlike the rest of us, our younger son, James, then a mere second-grader, had never been to a county fair, and for him, the moment was breathtaking. With eyes as big as saucers, he asked: “Where are we gonna go first?” Problem was, we weren’t quite sure where to go first. But feeling a little self-conscious, we knew we had to move along, so we bravely stepped deeper into our fair adventure. And that’s when it happened, just a little way off Allamakee Street.
On that sultry summer night, when it seemed that life couldn’t possibly get any better, our wide-eyed little James stepped in it. Literally! His parents, weary and apparently dim-witted from unpacking moving boxes and arranging furniture, had forgotten to share with him that, for all intent and purpose, the fairgrounds are a working pasture, and it’s a real good idea to watch where you step.
A few weeks later, in my first sermon here, I shared that precious moment from the pulpit. And I promised, as your newly minted pastor, that I would try not to “step in it” – try not to take too many missteps and make too many mistakes, try not to rock the boat unnecessarily or upset the apple cart deliberately. But I did: Stepping in it from time to time, here and there doing things differently or putting a different twist upon a Scripture lesson – all done with the best of pastoral intention but nonetheless, sometimes falling flat by ignorance or inexperience!
Like the handful of times when in Sunday worship I’ve asked you to lift up a different version of the Lord’s Prayer. Early on it was made quite clear to me that this is a forgive-us-our-sins- as-we-forgive-those-who-sin-against-us congregation – even though many of you came of age praying in terms of debts and debtors, and a few equally faithful folks having “trespasses” and “trespass against us” written upon their spiritual DNA. It’s all good. I suppose. But even better, pastor, if we just stick to “sins” and “sinning against us.” Message received. Sorry for stepping in it.
But as I preached in a sermon series on the Lord’s Prayer, its stanzas are so familiar as to risk becoming rote, yet the richness of our praise, confession, and intercession far exceeds the mere words we know so well. I wanted you to take that to heart and to feel free to riff on the prayer as so moved by the Spirit when, perhaps, you simply didn’t know what to pray. Or what you actually were praying! If those were you’re take-aways, then it was well worth “stepping in it.”
My missteps weren’t entirely confined to the church, and one in particular, like the fairgrounds manure-on-the-shoe fiasco, also was farm-related. It was harvest time, and my friend Dennis Byrnes invited me to combine some corn on a small Corner of Hope field behind Ken and Gloria Krambeer’s place. Dennis let me take the wheel, and to this city kid several generations removed from farm life, Dennis pointed out the throttle, and the lever for forward and reverse, and the one that raised and lowered the combine head. And he turned me loose! In Dennis’s estimation from the combine’s passenger seat, I did a pretty good job. Never missed a row!
But then, when it came time to empty the kernels of corn into the grain wagon, I didn’t exactly have the discharge chute lined up in quite the right place. And when I pulled the lever to empty the combine, I spattered on the ground a bushel or so of corn before managing to nudge the discharge shoot over the wagon’s middle. Dennis took my spillage in stride, graciously proclaiming: “Well, the deer gotta eat too.”
And such grace equally prevailed in what I consider to be my worst incident of “stepping in it.” I was preparing my third Christmas Eve service here and had what at the time seemed like a great idea to ramp up the holiday magic:
Rather than have the congregation sing “Joy to the World, the Lord has come” at the start of the service and light their handheld candles to the singing of “Silent Night” at the end of service, why not start the service with candle-lighting and strains of sleeping in heavenly peace and wrap things up with “Joy to the World.” Great idea, eh?
Well, no; as it turned out, not so much. Oh, sweet mother was it a rookie mistake to break with tradition: To some, a veritable punch in the yuletide gut – as if I’d dropped lumps of coal into the stockings hung by the chimney with care. Thus my musical misstep landed me knee-deep in the hoopla. But the message from the stalwart Silent-Night-and-candles-at-the-end crowd was taken to heart, and we’ve been ending Christmas Eve services by candlelight ever since. Again, sorry about that. But, as with my friend Dennis aboard the combine, the grace of forgiveness was kindly extended and humbly received.
Grace upon grace! Indeed the gift that keeps on giving! How very Jesus-y!!
And in that festive holiday spirit, now comes this morning’s Scripture lesson from the Gospel the John – the evangelist’s poignant version of the Christmas story, his lyric telling of how the living Word of God came to dwell among us, bringing the glory of truth and grace.
Listen to the Word that God has spoken,
Listen the Voice who is close at hand.
Listen to the One who began creation.
Listen even if you don’t understand.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
And the Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’”)
From the Word’s fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.
No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known. (John 1:1-18)
The term “Easter egg” needs no explanation.
But the phrase also has another meaning that might be less familiar. In slang use, an “Easter egg” is a hidden message, an inside joke, or a secret reference placed inside a movie, TV show, video game, or song.
Directors hide background props or pick character names that give nod to previous films. Musical artists hide lyrical clues in their songs to tease upcoming album releases. Software developers hide in video games secret rooms or funny animations that show up only when you press a weird combination of buttons.
This holy place holds a few Easter eggs of its own. Think in terms of the “little Jesuses” that my friend Spencer Homewood and others have hidden around the church from time to time: Special treasures spotted only by those with eyes to see. And a few of our “Easter eggs” really are hard to see.
When we repainted the sanctuary a few years ago, the crew found the hand-written signatures of the professional painters who had come before them, and Nick, Chris, and Mark added their names to the list like artists signing their work. Those signatures all lie on a board hidden in the organ’s chime chest. Bring your own ladder if you want to climb up to see them, but I strongly suggest letting a picture satisfy your curiosity. And another “Easter egg” demands similar comprise.
When this front area of the Sanctuary was remodeled in the early 2000s, people scribbled their favorite Bible verses upon the plywood subfloor before it was covered with carpet. So yes, as I’ve humbly stood in this pulpit for the past 15 years, I’ve been standing on the Word of God literally and spiritually – just as in the beginning when the Word, Jesus, stood with God, and the Word was God,” just as in Bethlehem when the Word of God came to pitch his tent among us and stand beside us as the living Word of God made human flesh.
Throughout my ministry here as the 21st installed pastor of this congregation, I’ve done my best to always stand on the Word of God as the Spirit has revealed it to me in the moment –
“Thou shall have no other gods before me.”
“Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.”
“From his fullness we have received grace upon grace.”
“Love and serve the Lord your God, love and serve friend, neighbor, and stranger.”
“Forgive as he forgives.”
Go into the world and be “ambassadors of Jesus” – instruments of Christ’s peace.
Many gifts serving common good that cultivate the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
“I will wipe away every tear. See I am making all things new.”
Grace upon grace, just as John’s Gospel proclaims.
Did I always “get it right” in proclaiming that Good News? No, probably not. I’m sure that I “stepped in it” at places along the way. Perhaps, at times, with speech and action even more feather-ruffling than moving “Silent Night” from the end to the beginning or switching up the words to the Lord’s Prayer. But know the messages that the Holy Spirit entrusted me to deliver always came from the heart of pastor, a spiritual shepherd called to guide, feed, and protect as faithfully as he or she can in any given moment. And for me, here in this place, that holy work always has felt like a great privilege of incredible blessing, even if I did stumble and fall along the way from time to time.
A few years back, I attended the annual dinner of the Waukon Chamber of Commerce. I was invited to offer a prayer of blessing over the meal, and I wanted to be on hand to see our own Howard Van Ruler receive an award of some kind – “person of the year,” as I recall. The honor was much deserved, but I got the sense that Howard was a little embarrassed by all the attention. When he rose from his table to receive the award and offer his acceptance speech, Howard’s words were appropriately plain and expectedly simple – in essence, something to the effect of “Thank you for this award. I’ve been blessed to work with some really good people.”
Indeed, Howard, so have I – within these walls and within the community. And those really good people remain: Thoughtful elders, caring deacons, and other church leaders who will do their Spirit-inspired best to lead you through a time of pastoral transition. Pray for them, support them. Make known your thoughts and feelings – share your prayerful sense of God’s will for this particular body of Christ. And trust in their collective wisdom – even if it doesn’t entirely line up with your reckoning of the land’s lay. I always have, and it’s never led me astray. Hopefully the leadership that remains won’t “step in it,” but if by chance they do, remember that grace upon grace abides and abounds.
Please know I have every confidence that such immeasurable grace will continue to pour out from 204 West Main Street. I have absolutely no sense the God is “done” with First Presbyterian Church of Waukon, Iowa. And I eagerly await on the sidelines of retirement to see what God can and will do in and through you.
Without a doubt, there is a forwardness to our faith. That’s because nostalgia is not a healthy driver of solid belief and fruitful discipleship. While we remember and treasure the past, there is no turning back. Moving forward in faith is daring to believe – in the face of strong evidence and feeling to the contrary – that the Word really does continue to abide among us. And whenever you stand upon and with the Word, the possibilities for doing miraculous things are limitless – as is the case for all born “not of blood, or of the will of the flesh, or of human will, but by the very will of God.” May it be so! Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward all. Amen, and amen!
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on Sunday, August 30, 2026, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. It was his final message before his retirement as the 21st installed pastor of the congregation.