This is a special musical presentation of Lo, How a Rose/The Rose by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir with a solo by John Borton at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

Whenever there is transition or change in our lives, we tend to experience an element of uncertainty and even fear. I know that as I leave you, I feel the uncertainty of a future that is not yet known. I have been experiencing this uncertainty for you as I deeply want you to be protected and cared for. So, as I am honest and acknowledge that sense of uncertainty and fear, it is comforting to me that our readings today focus on God as our shepherd, the Good Shepherd. It is reassuring because I know I can place my trust in the Good Shepherd, regardless of what happens and what the future brings.

We just heard the words of Psalm 23, a psalm that we sang between the first and second reading.  It is a psalm we will also sing as the Hymn of the Day. This is probably one of the best known, best loved poems in scripture.  It is known by people around the world.  In fact, I am sure many of you know Psalm 23 by heart.  This psalm tells each one of you that God is like a shepherd, caring for you, protecting you and guiding you.  God is the shepherd who walks with you through all of life and provides you with what you need, even in dark valleys when we experience the shadow of death, even in trying times, even in uncertain times.

In today’s gospel reading from John, we hear more about the one we call the Good Shepherd. For the community to which John was writing, living with fear and uncertainty was a familiar aspect of daily existence. John’s community lived with the reality of persecution and the threat of extinction. Their first-century Mediterranean world was a scary place. Persecutions were heating up, and the followers of Jesus were, in the eyes of Rome, just more lambs for the lions. The Jesus movement was still new, struggling to define itself against the threat of Rome as well as the threat of competing philosophies and counter claims to truth.

So, within that social context, these early Christians told stories. Often meeting under the cover of darkness, hidden from the authorities, huddled in some secret spot, while listening for the sound of Roman boots, they told stories to counter their fear. They told stories that helped to remind them of their identity, to remind them to whom they belonged, and remind them where they could place their trust. When they heard the story of the shepherd and the sheep, it helped them remember who they were and whose they were.  It reminded them of their identity as Christians.

While the metaphor of sheep and shepherd is rather foreign to us, this metaphor made enormous sense to John’s community. In ancient Palestine, multiple shepherds brought their sheep into a common sheepfold for the night. In the morning, in order to take their sheep out to the fields for grazing, each shepherd had to separate his sheep from the common flock. Each sheep had a name, and each shepherd had a unique manner or way of calling his or her sheep, so each sheep would respond only to its own shepherd. Even if another shepherd called the sheep by its own name, it would not respond. It was the knowing that counted.

Yes, John’s community knew about good shepherds. And they also knew about bad shepherds, the thieves of the story who taxed the poor into poverty, the ones who starved the people and fed only themselves, the ones who traded the shalom of their tradition for the Pax Romana of empire. No doubt they longed for a good shepherd. In John’s telling of the Jesus story, they hear that Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the way of comfort and sustenance, abundance and strength, even in the face of death and grief.

I can also imagine that, in their social context, there were times when the people’s fear got the best of them, and they became more concerned about the identity of the stranger than their own identity. But the story of the shepherd helped them to remember a better way. They knew about the way of the Good Shepherd, and that was the way of love, not fear. They became the people of the Good Shepherd. In fact, this image was so meaningful to them they began to scratch on catacomb walls the image of the Good Shepherd with a lamb slung over his shoulders. They painted this image on baptismal fonts to mark the beginning of life and they carved the Good Shepherd into tombs, to mark the end of life. They belonged to the Good Shepherd, from the beginning of their lives to the end of their lives. The term Good Shepherd was much more than words, much more than an idea. This understanding of Jesus as their Good Shepherd deeply shaped their very identity and way of life. They understood they were to live the Good Shepherd way. The early Christians in John’s community knew they belonged.  And it did not stop there.  The way of the Good Shepherd was the way of wide-reaching embrace.  Just as each one of them had found a safe place belonging on the inside of their faith community, so were they to include those at the far edge, those in the margins, the least of these and the most vulnerable.  Just as they had been given hope in dark and violent times, so were they to encourage one another.  Just as they were held close in the comfort of the loving shepherd, so were they to reach out, hold others close, comfort others and care for others.  And, those early followers of Jesus became known for their generosity, for the way they cared for the very least and the lost, the way they loved others, and the way they truly cared for the common good.  They became known for their love as they became the Beloved Community. In that context, while still facing uncertainty, they experienced the abundant life of which Jesus speaks, the abundant life that is only found in the community of Jesus’ followers.

My dear, treasured people of Faith Lutheran Church, that is how you are known. You are known as people who deeply care for the common good of all people and not just your own interests. Life in the community of Faith Lutheran truly is about the common good and not just each one of you as an individual. You are a beloved community, caring for each other and for the most vulnerable around us, and I know you will continue to do this after I leave.  You will continue to do this because you know who you are and whose you are.  You belong to the Good Shepherd who is all about love. The opposite of fear, after all, is love. And, that kind of love is not some sweet sentimental kind of love. No. It is the heavy lifting love of the Good Shepherd. As I have said before, loving is hard work and loving our neighbors can be very hard work. But, when we remember our identity and to whom we belong, we are then able to truly live love.

So, as I leave you, I entrust you to the care of the Good Shepherd who will never leave you. As I leave you, I entrust you to the Good Shepherd, the one who calls you by name and has made you his very own, even as you walk through the darkest valleys of life, even as we presently grieve together. I entrust you to the care of the Good Shepherd as you walk into a future where God is already present and calling you into new forms of ministry and new ventures yet unknown.  I entrust you to the guidance and care of the Good Shepherd who holds all of us in God’s arms of love for all eternity.

This is a special musical presentation of Lord, Listen to Your Children, sung by Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical presentation of People Need The Lord sung by Zach Hereza at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

PASTOR ELLEN:  I did my Clinical Pastoral Education at Maine Medical Center in Portland, Maine.  And, I vividly remember one of my patients, a dear, elderly Episcopalian man who was dying. This man deeply touched my heart. I will never forget the day I read him today’s story from Luke’s gospel. After I finished reading, he said to me, “There’s always an Emmaus.” The next day, my friend died, but I shall always remember what he said in response to that story.

There is always an Emmaus. Biblical archeologists tell us that the exact location of the village of Emmaus is unknown. There are at least nine possible locations that are candidates for the small biblical town, but historians tell us there is no record of any village called Emmaus in any other ancient source. We simply do not know where Emmaus might have been. Tradition tells us that it might have been a place just a few hours walk from Jerusalem. However, New Testament scholars, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, suggest that Emmaus is nowhere. Emmaus is nowhere precisely because Emmaus is everywhere. Every one of us has at one time, or indeed for some of us, many times, traveled along the road to Emmaus. Many of us travel that road as Cleopas and his friend did, trying to understand what has happened or is happening, trying to understand as our hearts burn within us.  We travel the road while experiencing confusion, bewilderment, brokenness, pain, grief, and great challenge. And we often think we are alone, only to find out later that the risen Christ has been walking along with us the whole time.  As the community of Christ gathers around those who are hurting and asking questions, the hurting are comforted by the presence of the risen Lord Jesus and they find hope. Yes, there is always an Emmaus.

 

READER # 2:  Yes, there is always an Emmaus.  Today, the entire global community is traveling the road to Emmaus as we face the brokenness and pain that is taking place because of climate change.  The entire creation is groaning in pain, and we carry a hunger that burns within us as we want to better understand and face this growing reality. Yesterday we celebrated Earth Day. Today we continue to celebrate this planet on which we live, and we celebrate the risen universal Christ’s presence to us in all of creation. For the past 53 years the world has set aside April 22nd to think about the gift we have been given in this home we call mother earth. Earth Day almost always falls during our liturgical season of Easter. So, it is fitting that, as we celebrate the resurrected Jesus, we celebrate Earth Day. Throughout the Easter season we are reminded that we celebrate the one who was born so that we can know God’s presence in our world and in our flesh. We celebrate the one who was born so that we can know this God who suffered and continues to suffer the burdens and sorrows and pains of our world, even the pains of this suffering creation. Easter is about new life and the risen Christ bringing forth new life. And that is not simply some kind of disembodied life that only awaits us in some future consummation. It is the first fruits, the seed that rises as a green blade to bear fruit. In the northern hemisphere where we live, Easter arrives with the signs and symbols of spring, the flowers, and the songs of returning birds. As we pay attention to these signs and symbols, this focus can become one of the ways in which we discover the risen Christ among us. We discover we are deeply and inextricably connected to creation and re-creation, to our Creator and this Earth.

 

READER # 3:  Yes, there is always an Emmaus.  Learning the truth about this earth means facing reality and facing facts and truth so that we can then work for change. The ELCA has had a focus on caring for creation since our denomination was formed. And, as we mark 53 years of this Earth Day celebration, we also look ahead. We look to the seven short remaining years before it will be too late to stop a 2° Celsius temperature rise for our planet. Just think about a few of these facts:

• 19 of the 20 hottest years ever have occurred since 2001.
• Extreme weather is becoming more frequent and severe.
• Food and water supplies are at risk.
• Oceans are at risk.
• Human health is at risk.

 

In a time of climate crisis, disasters of Biblical scale are impacting our communities and the places we love. Today, just like in the Bible, floods and famines show us a deep truth about human life: that our lives are intimately dependent on the land. In our sacred scriptures, we read the stories of creatures made from the soil, whose lives are sustained—physically and spiritually—by the fruits of the land. In these stories, we see how, in the midst of disaster, the land can be fertile ground to sustain ourselves. We also learn that we must take prophetic action and work for justice. We know that a commitment to address climate change needs to happen now. We know that it takes all people across the globe, people of all religions and backgrounds, to work together to adapt, to mitigate what is coming, and provide the necessary change that is urgent. Over 97% of climate scientists in this world have been warning us and telling us what we need to do now. And, in fact, some of them are members of this Faith community. They are prophets in our time. If we truly care for our neighbor, we need to listen to the deep truth of their message and respond appropriately. For people of faith, this response is something that is rooted in our faith, and it is all about living out our love for our neighbors.

 

READER # 4:  Yes, there is always an Emmaus. As we journey through these critical years, we need to face the reality of climate change and what lies before us. We need to understand that the disruptions we now face, the extreme weather events that are becoming part of our experience, are only a foretaste of the disruption we will likely face if the world does not address the issue of climate change. Most scientists agree that addressing climate change is THE most important task for humanity. But there is hope!  As Christians, we name “love” as an act of ultimate importance. The love we proclaim and live is a love that includes addressing climate change and caring for this planet!  The impending impacts are so catastrophic, and our window of time is getting short. As people created by God and placed in relationship with all of creation, all the threatened creatures, from the most vulnerable human populations to species endangered by extinction and ecosystems moving toward collapse, there is so much at stake. Rooted in scripture, and our understanding of the risen Christ, we can draw on all that Jesus did and taught in the context of our beautiful, life-giving, and threatened world. Resurrection takes place in bodies and is encountered in and through bodies. And the encounters are not limited to human bodies but to other forms of life and matter around us. Our Emmaus journey can help us see more clearly that we are enmeshed in the communion of the planet and cosmos. We can allow our hearts to burn within us as we, too, walk with the Risen One and have our eyes opened to our deep connectedness to this earth.  We can have our eyes opened to recognize and discern, through words and conversations with scientists, by actions of gratitude, and even in the simple but sacred ritual of breaking and sharing bread.

 

READER # 5:  Yes, there is always an Emmaus. At the heart of the Emmaus story is an urging towards a deeper faith: to recognize and discern, not just to see. Like Cleopas and his companion, we need to open our eyes to what is before us. As ecological readers of today’s gospel, this means being attentive to the material, to matter itself as we look at this world. It means to be eyewitnesses to everything we see around us, and to grow and mature in our understanding so that we recognize the relationships that form our Earth community. As we learn and grow and work for change, we are on the road to Emmaus. And as Pastor John Schleicher says, “May we, like Cleopas and the other disciple, recognize our risen Lord even now when we invite one another, friend or stranger, to stay with us awhile, have supper with us, and find in our time together unexpected hope and promise of a whole world rising from death.” Yes, there is always an Emmaus.

 

I love the questions our young people often feel free to ask.  In fact, I wish more adults would feel free to ask similar questions.  Anyway, on multiple occasions, I have received from our youth questions about faith, the life of Jesus, questions about the existence of God, and questions that show they have an element of doubt regarding many aspects of faith.  I truly encourage these questions because that is how we learn, that is how we grow, and that is how we are taken to new places.  Austrian poet and novelist, Rainer Maria Rilke, once said, “Live the questions!”  I truly believe that is the best way we learn.  I also believe that as Christians, when we ask questions, we need to be honest about our doubt.  Far too often the church has discouraged doubt.  However, doubt is really a healthy aspect of faith.  In fact, theologian, Paul Tillich, said doubt is a very necessary element of faith.  And, theologian, Frederick Buechner, writes these words about doubt, “Whether your faith is that there is a God or that there is not a God, if you don’t have any doubts, you are either kidding yourself or asleep.  Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.  They keep it awake and moving.” (Wishful Thinking.)   In other words, doubt is not only an element of faith, but doubt also becomes the process through which faith grows and faith is deepened.  Vibrant, living faith is nurtured and born in the mix of a rich environment where we have the freedom to ask questions, voice our doubts, articulate our wonderings about this person we call Jesus, and let go of old elementary images of God.  For all of us, there is a real need for our old understandings of Jesus and our old understanding of faith to die.  Our old understandings need to be eaten away by doubts so that a new and deeper faith may be born. 

In today’s gospel reading, questions and doubt come to the forefront in the story of Thomas.  However, the truth is that all the disciples were questioning and experiencing doubt.  It is still the day of Jesus’ resurrection and here we find the disciples sitting in a room behind locked doors because of their fear, their doubt, and quite likely more than a little shame.  They have blown it completely, they are hiding in fear, and they are doubting everything their master had said.  And what is so fascinating is that, in the gospel of John, when Jesus appears to his disciples after the resurrection, nobody, not one person, initially recognizes him.  Notice in the beginning of today’s reading, the disciples do not recognize him until Jesus shows them his hands and side.  They all doubted him!  They doubted it was Jesus!  It is only after Jesus shows them his hands and side that the disciples rejoice because they have seen the Lord.  And while the other disciples also doubt, for some strange reason, only Thomas gets labeled “doubter.” 

Far too often we judge Thomas because of his doubt.  We need to cut him some slack and give him a break.  In Thomas we find the yearning of one who desperately wants to see with his eyes and touch with his hands that of which he has been told.  He has real questions, real concerns, and a desire for a real encounter with the risen Lord.  I think the story of Thomas captures our hearts and minds because we, too, were absent from the Resurrection experience two thousand years ago.  When faced with the mystery of the Resurrection, the story of Thomas names that part in each of us that wants to scream out, “Show me!”

Thomas has just had a very harsh encounter with reality.  Reality had hit hard in the form of a cross when his dear friend had been crucified.  And, when he fled that horrible scene, not only had Jesus died, Thomas’ hopes and dreams had also died.  Jesus’ crucifixion had destroyed his hopes for the future and very poignantly reminded him that there is an end.  And it is the same for us.  When the harsh realities of life hit us – whether it be the death of a family member, the loss of a job, an unexpected illness, a broken relationship, or whatever – reality deeply cuts into our hopes, our dreams, the very fabric of our relationships, and we are reminded that there is an end.  There is an end over which we have no control as we feel we have been taken captive by an extremely cruel conqueror. 

The reality that sliced into Thomas’s hopes and dreams left him emotionally bleeding and broken.  As he again joins the community of disciples, within the context of those who proclaim Jesus is alive, Thomas lays bare his doubt.  He is very honest as he says, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  In the depth of despair Thomas articulates his doubt, and it is in that place where he is now confronted with the risen Christ.  It is in that place of despair that Thomas is greeted by the risen Lord whose presence exudes forgiveness and grace as he hears the words, “Peace be with you.”  In that moment, Thomas knows he is in the presence of God, and he believes. 

Thomas lays bare his doubt which takes him to this encounter with the grace of God, a grace embodied and enfleshed in the risen Lord Jesus, and his entire reality is changed.  Wow!!  Did you get that?  Reality itself has changed.  The despairing Thomas does not escape from the real world and there is not a break from the tangible reality of the world.  No.  But there is something very different, something very, very new.  God’s grace and God’s kingdom have invaded the real world, transformed it, and nothing will ever be the same again. 

I think Thomas experiences Easter in the way many of us begin to experience it.  Thomas finally gets Easter when he brings forth his questions. He wants to see and touch. He wants tangible proof and needs his own encounter before he can trust the story.  It is doubt that compels Thomas to ask the questions and it is doubt that takes him to the place where he is looking for what is truly real and what truly matters.  You see, without doubt, our faith is shallow and rootless.  Without doubt, we fail to go down deep.  Doubt is a sign of a healthy, deeply rooted faith, though most of us are taught to believe the opposite. And, when doubt takes us to deeper places in faith, our reality changes.  We are transformed and our perspective on all of life changes as we live into a new reality.

This is what Easter is all about and what Easter means for each one of us.  This new reality is a way of life, expressed as we come together to worship and be fed by the very life of the Risen Christ.  We participate in the work of our risen Lord and live into this new reality as we see the hungry in this world and work for change, whether it is by distributing bags of food to Meridian Township families so they can have an Easter dinner, by routinely filling our micro pantries, or working with the refugees who are living in the Parish House as we help to provide for them a life of hope.  We live this new reality when we intentionally work to end extreme poverty, racism, sexism, and all the isms that seem so prevalent in this culture.  We live this new reality when we work to address climate change, working to bring healing and wholeness to the environment and the profound brokenness in this world God so deeply loves.

As the community of faith gathers and we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, voice our doubts and ask our questions, Jesus does appear.  The community of faith is not the place where we have and know all the answers.  It is a place where a searching faith can develop and become authentic and alive.  Such an environment creates the space for an authentic encounter with God as the risen Christ appears.  

So, Samantha, as you are confirmed on this day, I challenge you to continue to ask the questions.  Continue to let your doubt take you deeper in understanding the story, because the questions that arise within you are the very heartbeat of your faith. The story of Thomas, his questions and his doubt, is one of the most compelling, believable, realistic stories in the Bible because it is your story, and it is our story.  And the risen Christ is always breaking into our doubt and our questions and working to make us new.  Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

As I studied our gospel reading for today, I started thinking about fear. I have been thinking about the way fear moves us to focus on security issues, and the way fear and security play such an important role in our lives, controlling so much of our behavior.  It is fear that drives us to intently focus on and invest in various forms of security.  If we listen to the daily news we will inevitably hear about issues and concerns regarding global security, national security, security within our community, security in our homes and our own personal security.  Security issues have become so important to us they have evolved into big business in our culture.  Security is used as a marketing tool for cars, tires, homes, internet resources, investment banking, politics, travel – the list goes on and on.  Everyone is interested in keeping us safe.  Cell phones, security systems, airport security lines, getting the right medical tests before or after the age of 50 – just about everything can be sold as a way to keep us free from threats, a way to keep us safe.  And, while I do not want to minimize the need for security, I do want to suggest this incessant focus adds to the fear and anxiety that already permeates our culture and our very lives.

Well, in the last chapters of Matthew’s gospel, we find people who were fearful and intently focused on security concerns.  Security seems to be on everyone’s mind.  When Jesus was betrayed, it was temple security personnel armed with swords and clubs who came to arrest him.  As this happened, the disciples sought their security in the cover of darkness, deserting Jesus and fleeing the garden.  Peter sought security and safety in a courtyard by trying to keep a safe distance from Jesus while following what happened to Jesus during his trial.  And, after Jesus was safely dead, the chief priests still felt this immense need for security and asked Pilate to place guards at the sealed tomb where Jesus’ body was laid to rest.  So, Pilate told his security detail – the soldiers – to “make that tomb as secure as you can,” and he placed twenty-four-hour guards to keep watch.

And guess what!  It did not work, and it does not work!  It did not work for Peter who ended up denying Jesus three times.  And it did not work for the chief priests who tried to secure and seal Jesus in a tomb.  It did not work because Jesus, the Word made flesh, cannot and will not be contained.  All attempts at achieving security were shattered when the very foundations of the earth shook.  And, by a power greater than all attempts to achieve security, Jesus was raised! 

When the very foundations of the earth shook as tectonic plates shifted, even Pilate’s security detail fell to the ground in fear.  As the soldiers become like dead men, paralyzed by fear, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary are greeted by the angel who says, “Don’t be afraid.  I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.  Come, see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’  This is my message for you.”

The women then go, and what is so interesting is that they leave the tomb with both fear and joy!  While they are joyful, an element of fear has not left them, and they apparently do not exactly feel secure and safe.  You see, they are living an experience in which the very foundation of the earth under their feet has shaken them to the core.  Their dear friend who was dead has not stayed dead!!  Talk about not feeling secure and safe!  And, as they run to tell the disciples, who should run into them but Jesus.  Jesus, their risen Lord stands before them and says to them, “Do not be afraid.”  They encounter the risen Christ and hear him say, “Do not be afraid,” and it is the very last time in Matthew’s gospel that we hear anything about fear. 

As the women encounter the risen Christ, it becomes very clear to them that reality itself had changed.  The Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore describes this change in the women and all of Jesus’ disciples by saying:

As the first Christians came to recognize the risen Christ, they experienced boldness and freedom of speech that surprises those of us who read their stories.  It is as if their security came from the inside out.  They were not afraid of people who scoffed at their claims.  They were not afraid of authorities who ordered them to stop speaking of Jesus.  They were free from what the neighbors thought about them and free from what the established power structure could do to them.

Now, we know that the disciples did face threats and persecution following Christ’s resurrection.  The history of the early church indicates many of them were killed for professing Christ as Savior and proclaiming their faith.  However, after experiencing Christ’s resurrection, even the threats made against their lives by those who were in power did not own them or define them.  Fear no longer defined the way they lived or their proclamation of the good news.  And what is so amazing is that even all the mistakes they had made, all of their fear induced foolishness and prior cowardly behavior, was met by the risen Christ who did meet them in Galilee.  Their encounter with the risen Christ freed them from all that had been, and their reality was forever changed.  And, even more, the risen Christ promised to be with them to the end of the age. 

So, on this Easter morning, what might that kind of freedom mean for you?  How does this good news free you from the fear that binds and imprisons you?  How does this good news change the way you hear the daily news reports?  How does this good news change the way you welcome strangers and those who are different, those you might consider other?  How does this good news transform all that defines you?  How does this good news transform this faith community and the way we live in the greater Okemos community and the world? How does this good news transform the way this faith community looks to the future? The risen Christ stands before us saying, “Do not be afraid!” 

Because of Easter, we know the foundation of all that once was has been shaken and God is creating a new heaven and a new earth.  And, because of Easter our lives are secure and held with Christ in the very God of all creation.  Do not be afraid, because we know a Savior who died on the cross to break the power of everything that threatens to enslave or oppress or distort or destroy our humanity.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we know a God who takes all our pain and sorrow and suffering and sadness and loss and even death and turns it all into new life.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe the new life that came into being on that early morning two thousand years ago will one day transform everything and everyone.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe in a God who brings hope out of hopelessness and new life out of death.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter we believe in a God who is working to bring grace and peace and mercy and love and justice and freedom and joy and life into every life.  Do not be afraid, because of Easter and because we believe in a God who raised Jesus from the dead, we know that even death does not have the last word.  God alone has the last word.  You are secure!!  We are secure!!

Do not be afraid!  Because of Easter we are secure, and our future is secure!  For the powers of death have been defeated already and no matter how violently they rage and no matter what power or authority they try to claim, Christ has already won the victory!   Christ is Risen!  He is Risen indeed!  Alleluia!

This is a special musical performance of Christ is Risen, Alleluia! by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir with Emmet Lewis and Jaylen Hall on trumpet and David O’Donnell and Gracy Tomek on trombone at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

Many of us gathered here tonight have spent time sitting at the bedside of a relative or friend who is dying.  Ken and I intimately shared this experience with Dorothy this past October as she faced the end of her life. Such an experience is sacred, and it is a deathwatch.  Quite frankly, this experience will inevitably be part of every human being’s life because none of us can escape death, whether it is the death of a dearly loved relative, a friend, or even our own death.  Being present in a deathwatch is a necessary work and ritual, as we walk with loved ones to the endpoint of life. 

Tonight, on this day we call Good Friday, we gather and stand at the foot of the cross to experience a deathwatch.  We stand together in community as we watch our friend, Jesus, draw his last breath, and we experience a form of liturgy.  The word liturgy literally means “the work of the people.”  So, as we come together tonight, we come to experience a necessary form of the work of the people, a liturgical deathwatch. And we wonder, “Where is God in the midst of such horror?”  Throughout this week we have been remembering the unspeakable suffering and violence Jesus faced during his last week of life. And I have no doubt that the people who stood at the foot of the cross some 2,000 years ago wondered, “Where is God in the midst of such suffering?”  Tonight, we stand at the foot of the cross, and we wait, and we wonder.   

Friends and family have gathered for this deathwatch, looking on as Jesus is executed.  Gathered here under the cross we find a menagerie of humanity and I wonder what role I play.  I see the executioners, the guards and the gamblers, the mourners, the friends, the followers, the mother, the criminals, the devout religious elite, the politicians, the passersby, the innocent bystanders.  And all I can do is wonder how Jesus can continue to love this lot of human beings even as he breathes his last breath.  Yes, this is a liturgical deathwatch.

Frederick Buechner, in his book Waiting in the Dark, writes, “At no time more than at a painful time do we live out of the depths of who we are instead of out of the shallows.”  As we gather and watch Jesus breathe his last, I wonder, and I think about this.  I think about the fact that we need to go to a deeper place to make sense of this horror.  I am reminded of the necessary, disturbing, yet cathartic aspect of this experience.  I am reminded of the way in which we replay the details of this story year after year.  I am reminded of the way in which we find ourselves in the story and consider our own culpability.  Yes, this is a necessary work of the people, even if repulsive.  Theologian, William Cavanaugh, has written, this is “a kind of perverse liturgy in which the body of the victim is the ritual site where the state’s power is manifested in its most awesome form.”  It is a perverted, violent, diseased form of liturgy.  It is a diseased form of the work of the people.  Yet, as we experience this work of the people, waiting and watching as Jesus faces the brutal, violent end of life, we come face to face with love!  A perverted, diseased liturgy comes face to face with true liturgy as we begin to see the very heart of God, a God who embraces even the deepest brokenness of this world in love and continues to love. 

In this execution of our friend Jesus, we see a God who is present in the deepest, darkest, most violent places in life.  What juxtaposition we find as we again experience this true liturgy.  Every time we replay this deathwatch, we experience a true liturgy which is the Eucharist.  We enter the place where the body of the victim, our friend, Jesus, makes possible the creation of a new body.  For, it is in the death of Jesus’ body that a new body is formed – the community of believers – a new body which lives by resurrection hope.

Yes, this is a necessary liturgical deathwatch.  We need to replay this work of the people every year. As Jesus hangs on a cross before us, he holds up a mirror to all our diseased, distorted liturgies. We need to experience this liturgy because we need to be reminded of the diseased, counter liturgies that are taking place in the world and in our culture, the other liturgies we live by in which bodies are scripted into other dramas – like the dramas of fear, hatred. and exclusion. Such are the liturgies that unite people in today’s violent world, liturgies we continually see enacted in the epidemic gun violence that plagues our culture. In the routine child sacrifices we make to the god of guns. This is truly a diseased, sick ritual or liturgy we allow to happen over and over again. Such are the liturgies embodied in reactive behaviors that lead to exclusion and fear, liturgies we see as policies created to ban books and marginalize the LGBTQIA community, liturgies that criminalize compassion and care for transgender youth.  Such are the liturgies that lead to forms of division and hatred, liturgies that attempt to whitewash the history of slavery in this country and walk back the civil rights movement, liturgies that create a mentality of us vs them. These are the deeply distorted, diseased forms of liturgy, the truly perverted works of the people we experience on a daily basis.  And, in the cross of Jesus we find that God still lovingly embraces us, takes our sordid, perverted, deadly liturgies into God’s very self, enters the tombs we create, breaks the chains of death that hold us, and then transforms our very lives through grace and love.

Tonight, as we face the cross, we move toward the end.  As we stand at the foot of the cross, we hear Jesus’ last words as he proclaims, “It is finished.”  Tonight, we move toward the conclusion and purpose of this Lenten journey.  And, as we watch Jesus die, we astonishingly watch him embrace this deeply broken world with love, and then we are called to remember that the liturgy we enact as people of faith is one of hope, not fear.  The work of the people we are called to enact and live is one of embrace, not exclusion.  As we live this liturgical deathwatch, we know that in Jesus, we find hope, a vibrant living hope, we find grace, and we find love. We also know he has promised that, after three days, he will rise again!  And, in Jesus, our dear friend who hangs there dead and lifeless, we see a world that is truly over-turning, and there, in that place, we find the reorientation of our entire existence.  Our liturgical deathwatch is coming to an end as we watch humanity kill its Creator.  But, we remember that “in God accepting this end in Jesus, there is now nowhere that we go that God has not been before, not even death.  And this descent into death in itself is not the last word because Sunday, yes Sunday, is just around the corner.” (Frederick Buechner)

This is a special musical performance of O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir with a solo on Clarinet by Michael Fox at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

As a hospital chaplain, when family members tell me that they’re “praying for a miracle”, this is usually the miracle they’re referring to

 

This miracle occurs at the pinnacle of Jesus’ ministry

 

demonstrating his close connection to, and unity with God

 

Jesus has been going around performing various miracles

 

From the wedding at Cana, turning water into wine

 

To healing many who were sick

 

To feeding five thousand people with a few loaves of bread and fish

 

To walking on water and calming the sea

 

To the miracle we heard just last week of restoring a man’s sight

 

Today we hear about Jesus performing the ultimate miracle

 

When Jesus brings Lazarus out of his grave,

 

Wrapped in cloth

 

After being dead for four days…

 

It is truly an incredible story

 

So incredible, it really messes with the logic and reason side of our brain

 

We don’t know where to put this story, as we wonder

 

“Did this really happen?!”       /         /         /

 

“Did this really happen?” is a fair question

 

Doubt is not the opposite of faith

 

Indifference is

 

Doubt is an indication of a true, and curious relationship

 

And we learn, week after week, about how relationship is the thing that God most desires from us

 

So, fresh from seminary studies, learning both Hebrew and Greek, delving into the historical, cultural and theological meanings of scripture, I’ll tell you…

 

Did this really happen?

 

I don’t know.

 

But… what I DO know, is that to focus on the logic and reason of this

 

And really ANY scripture story

 

Misses the depth, breadth, and beauty that scripture stories offer us

 

Instead of “Did this really happen?”

 

I prefer to focus on questions like

 

“What does this say about Jesus?”

 

“What do we learn about Jesus’ relationship with God…

 

and with others through this story?”

 

“What do we learn about the nature of God here?”

 

We read excerpts of the gospel each week, and it’s crucial to consider today’s passage in the midst of the arc of what’s happening in John’s gospel

 

Last week Jesus restored the blind man’s sight

 

On the holy day of the Sabbath

 

Which really got the attention of the religious leaders, the Pharisees, in the community

 

They really began to wonder how Jesus might be threatening their community as he challenged the rules of the Sabbath

 

Then Jesus goes and raises Lazarus

 

Which is THE public act that tips the religious leaders toward putting him to death

 

Today is the day

 

That religious leaders decide Jesus has gone too far,

 

He becomes a threat    

 

To understand this threat, let’s consider a bit about how first century Jews thought about God and holiness

 

Jews maintained a strict purity system that protected God’s holiness

 

And this system was enforced by the religious leaders like the priests and  Pharisees

 

Impurities like blood, some illnesses, and death

 

Were controlled, and there were regulations around handling these impurities appropriately

 

There were very clear boundaries in this Jewish culture

 

Between where God could be (places and times deemed holy)

 

And where God could not be (places and times deemed impure)

 

These boundaries served two purposes

 

One to ensure God’s continued presence in the Jewish temple

 

The other was to ensure the people’s access to God, or

 

To continue to be in relationship with God and one another

 

Basically, they didn’t want to get kicked out or force God to leave because of impurities

 

The book of Leviticus is filled with details about this

 

So throughout Jesus’ ministry, and especially today, Jesus has been threatening what the Jews believed about these boundaries and God

 

He’s been threatening what it means to be in relationship with God

 

Today, as Jesus faces the greatest impurity within the force of death

 

He challenges Jewish religious understanding on a new level

 

Focusing just on the raising of Lazarus is to miss an essential part of the story,

 

which is Jesus’ identity and how God is revealed through him

 

Jesus proclaims:  “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” (Jn 11:25)

 

This “I am” is a primary focus, and thread, of Jesus, throughout the gospel of John

 

Jesus’ declaration of “I am” is a statement of his connectedness to God

 

sharing fully in the power of God

 

And God revealing Godself through Jesus

 

As Christians, this might not sound as revolutionary is it did to Jewish believers in the first century

 

Because we believe in the Trinity

 

But for ancient Jews, God was in the temple, in the holy of holies,

 

with very limited access, with strict boundaries

 

But Jesus’ declaration “I am” shifts the Jewish perspective of God

 

From God as a static being

 

Toward God’s presence here, now, then, and there… everywhere and always

 

From God as separate from the impurities of life

 

Toward God reigning in the midst of those impurities…

 

Moving and flowing and changing lives

 

This moving and flowing is not controlled or contained

 

God cannot be threatened, even by the most impure and powerful force of death

 

But the power of God, through the person of Jesus, is breaking all of the “rules”

 

This threatened to shatter how the region of Judea, the communities of Bethany, and Jerusalem, understood how the world worked

 

We are not so unlike the Pharisees and people of Judea

 

We prefer logic and reason over the supernatural

 

We prefer boundaries, control and predictability

 

We think we all ready know and understand how the world – and God -- work

 

So today Jesus challenges us as much as he challenges the people two thousand years ago

 

What if you don’t know?

 

What if God is so powerful that God remains connected to us always and through all things

 

Through hunger, thirst and injustice

 

Through sickness, pain and hurt

 

Through immobilizing fear and anxiety

 

Through rejection, isolation, and losing our way

 

Even through death

 

Jesus demonstrates today, and throughout his ministry, that NOTHING separates us from God

 

“I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” (Jn 11:25)

 

God’s power is always flowing, transforming, resurrecting US from the depths of our selves

 

And we are connected to this divine, supernatural power of God

 

If we allow it

 

If we are open to it

 

If we accept it

 

/         /         /

 

“Did this really happen?”

 

I don’t know

 

But the next time I pray for a miracle

 

Maybe I’ll think…

 

It’s all ready happened

 

Maybe I’ll realize…

 

God is with me still, even now

 

Maybe I’ll wonder…

 

What will God do with me next

 

Maybe I’ll believe

 

The divine can crash through what I think I know is possible

 

Maybe I’ll realize

 

What living really means

 

Amen.

This is a special musical performance of Lonesome Valley by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

“I once was lost, but now am found, ‘twas blind, but now I see.” “’Twas blind, but now I see.” These are the words that come from the lips of the blind man who was healed in today’s gospel reading. However, most of you know them best as part of the hymn, “Amazing Grace,” written by John Newton. In his first career John Newton was a sea captain, and a slave trader. During a violent storm he cried out for Christ’s mercy. He was “saved” from the violent storm and his life was transformed. He eventually became a minister of the gospel, and he played an important role in the abolitionist movement in England. It was after that transformational experience that he wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace.”

“’Twas blind, but now I see.” All of today’s readings connect in some way to blindness and sight.  In the First Reading we have the prophet Samuel who is able to see what David’s father, Jesse, cannot see – that this youngest son of less lofty stature, forgotten and out in the fields, is the chosen one. Jesse’s youngest son, David, is the one God has chosen to be king of Israel. And Samuel essentially communicates this message, “Humans see only appearances, but God sees the heart.”

“’Twas blind, but now I see.” In today’s Second Reading from Ephesians, we hear words encouraging us to do our own “shadow work” as Richard Rohr would say, our own work on self.  That is where we look to discover our blind spots.  We are encouraged to bring our self-deceptions into the light. At the time when Ephesians was written, those who were preparing to be baptized were being encouraged to do what was called a  moral inventory and look at their own self. Psychologists will tell you that we must bring our shames and our denials into the light, or they kill us from within. In essence, this is what repentance is about, and it brings not only newness of life, but also a new way of seeing.

“’Twas blind, but now I see.” Finally, we come to today’s gospel reading. This passage from John’s gospel is one of the most profound and rich in the whole New Testament.  Today we are given this great theater-piece of a Gospel reading about a man born blind. In fact, because this story has so many clear roles, interacting characters, and dramatic lines, some scholars think this story was enacted in sanctuaries in the early church.  While there are layers and layers of meaning in this passage, we can only touch upon the surface here this morning.  However, I want to share with you some of the major themes so you cannot miss them. And I invite you to take your bulletin home and think about them throughout the week. Here is the way Richard Rohr lists the major themes:

• The “man born blind” is the archetype for all of us at the beginning of life’s journey.
• The moral blame game as to why or who caused human suffering is a waste of time.
• The man does not even ask to be healed. It is just offered and given.
• Religious authorities are often more concerned about control and correct theology than actually healing people. They are presented as narrow and unloving people throughout the story.
• Many people have made their spiritual conclusions before the facts are in front of them. The man is a predefined “sinner” and has no credibility for them.
• Belief in and love of Jesus come after the fact, subsequent to the healing. Perfect faith or motivation is not always a prerequisite for God’s action. Sometimes God does things for God’s own purposes.
• Spirituality is about seeing. Sin is about blindness, or as Gregory of Nyssa once said, “Sin is always a refusal to grow.”
• Finally, the one who knows little, learns much and those who have all their answers already, learn nothing.

“Twas blind, but now I see.” Today’s gospel reading is one in which Jesus invites us into the story, a reading that is truly our story, and it speaks to multiple forms of blindness. This reading not only addresses one man’s literal blindness. It also addresses a simplistic understanding of sin that was a common view of the day, yet another form of blindness. When the disciples voice this simplistic understanding of sin by referencing disability or hardship as somehow the result of sin, Jesus adamantly disagrees. Also, when the Pharisees assume that knowledge of the law automatically grants righteousness, Jesus counters this thinking by saying that precisely because they deny their sin and claim to “see,” they are in fact sinning and they are the blind ones. Jesus says this because “sin” at its most basic level is not recognizing Jesus as God’s messiah, the person through whom God is at work to save the world.

Blindness is not about the quality of our vision or the condition of our eyes. It is not about the darkness around us but, rather the darkness within us.  How we se others, what we see in the world, the way we see life, is always less about the objects of our seeing and more about ourselves.  Too often, we do not see God, people, things, or circumstances as they are but as WE are.  Until our eyes are opened by Christ, our seeing is really just a projection of ourselves onto the world. What we see and how we see manifest and make known our inner world.  They describe and point to the fears, attachments, and beliefs within us.

If we wish to see God, life, and others as they really are then we must attend to what is going on within us. True seeing begins in the heart, not the eyes. We must begin to acknowledge the fears, attachments, and beliefs that live within us and how they have impaired our vision.

To follow Jesus is to see differently. Sometimes, to follow Jesus is to be brought into a messy situation, maybe even a crisis. But, in the mess, God is doing a new thing. And, to have a conversation with Jesus and follow him is to be opened to newness. Sometimes, this newness means discovering we are blinded when we think we see perfectly. Sometimes, this newness means to be given new insight, a new way of thinking and being. This blind man was made new, and he was given new sight, a new life, and a new chance.

Theologian, Nadia Bolz Weber, writes, “New is often messy. New looks like recovering alcoholics. New looks like reconciliation between family members who don’t actually deserve it. New looks like every time I manage to admit I was wrong and every time I manage to not mention when I’m right. New looks like a very fresh start and every act of forgiveness. New is the thing we never saw coming – never even hoped for – like our blind guy in this story. But new ends up being what I needed all along.” And, by the way, such newness is also what we call grace, it is what we call love. Bolz-Weber continues by saying, “God simply keeps reaching down…reaching down into the dirt of your humanity and resurrecting you from the graves you dig for yourself through your violence, your lies, your selfishness, your arrogance, and your addictions. And God keeps loving you back to life over and over….There are times when faith feels like a friendship with God. But there are other times when it feels….I don’t know….more vacant. Yet none of that matters in the end. How you feel about Jesus or how close you feel to God is meaningless next to how God acts upon you. How God indeed enters into your messy life and loves you through it, maybe whether you want God’s help or not.”

Yes, maybe whether you want God’s help or not. In today’s story, one of the most remarkable things is the fact that the blind man didn’t seek out Jesus or ask for his help. Yet, he was healed and made whole in the end. And the powerful, life-giving truth of the gospel is that our suffering, our grief, and even our sin, will not have the last word.

This story is truly our story. The inner darkness of our fears, our attachments, and beliefs is what keeps us from seeing. They cover our eyes like the mud on the eyes of the man born blind. In placing mud on the blind man’s eyes, Jesus is holding before him the reality of his blindness. He wears thick black lenses of fear, attachments, and beliefs. We all do. Those who know this are sent to wash in the pool, to be re-created, to be made new in the waters of our baptism, and to see with new eyes. And, as the cool and refreshing waters of life wash over us – those baptismal waters in which we daily live – our eyes and our hearts are opened to behold the living Christ, standing before us as the chains of death and hell lay broken at his feet. There is then no other response than to raise our voice and cry out at last, “’Twas blind, but now I see! Lord! I believe!”

This is a special musical performance of Living Water by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

Have you ever been so passionate and intent about something that you forgot to eat?

 

Maybe you were so into a project, or having so much fun, time flew right past lunch?

 

Sometimes when we get into something really great it seems time loses its meaning

 

Time can stand still or fly by

 

Without us being conscious of it

 

Losing our sense of time can be a sign that we’re into something incredible,

 

Tapping into something both within and outside of ourselves

 

Perhaps on the threshold of transformation

 

Some call these liminal spaces

Richard Rohr describes this space as, “where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left behind, while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin.”

Newness… creativity… passion… transformation

These are also words we use to describe encounters with the divine

/         /         /

I invited you to identify with one of the characters in the gospel story today

For me the character I identify most with…

Love, and admire… is the woman

The woman in today’s gospel story seems to find herself in a liminal space as she encounters Jesus

We hear several labels for parts of her identity throughout this story

Samaritan

Woman

Unwed

Divorced

And there are other aspects of her identity that are demonstrated throughout the story

Courageous and curious

Believer in Christ

Witness and disciple

But perhaps most importantly for her

And for each one of us

Is her identity as a beloved child of God

/         /         /

This story is fascinating because it’s so unpredictable

Jesus was a Jew, and Jews didn’t go to Samaria

Jews and Samaritans had been strong enemies for about the last 700 years

But Jesus discerned that they must go there    /         /

Jewish men, particularly teachers, did not talk to unknown women

But Jesus, a Jewish teacher, engaged this woman at the well     /          /

Jesus didn’t need water -- the disciples just left to get snacks

And women didn’t usually go to the well for water during midday

It’s hot, and they preferred to draw water in the mornings and evenings

Culturally, women also did this together

It was like a social event where they would catch up a bit and support one another.

But this woman goes to the well alone at noon /         /         /

So just within the first three verses of this story we enter a place of curiosity, wonder and awe as we are transported outside of what is considered common, to a place of newness

Then Jesus asks her for a drink      /         /         /

He exacerbates her confusion of his violation of social norms by then telling her that HE has living water… flowing, fresh everlasting water

But there he sits beside the well

Jesus doesn’t even have a bucket, and he just told her that he needed a drink AND he has living water

Anyone in their right mind would smile, step back, and get water later because something strange is happening here

But this is the thing about liminal spaces /         /         /

They befuddle us, shift our conscious awareness,

Change our ability to perceive reality, and take us to someplace deeper

Liminal spaces seem to shift our consciousness away from what’s happening on the surface

toward a deeper place where transformation can occur

/         /         /

So in spite of common custom and her best judgement,

The woman stays

She remains curious

She engages Jesus

/         /         /

Within the conversation Jesus brings up her marital status,

Not in judgement of her,

but in a way of revealing more of himself

He shows himself as seeing and knowing all things

Deepening the mystery and drawing the woman into relationship with him further

The woman recognizes Jesus as a prophet

And gets to the heart of the conflict between Jews and Samaritans

And perhaps the heart of the conflict we experience within our relationships today

Where is God?

Where can I access God?

Where can I experience God?

If I encounter God here or this way…

then can you encounter God there or that way?

/         /         /

Jesus shatters both the Jewish and Samaritan answers to these questions

The hour is coming

The time is near

When worshiping God won’t depend on where you are

Or if you do it properly

Worshiping God will depend on spirit and truth

And relationship  /         /

Jesus’ words “God is spirit” changes everything

Because God is unbound to any people or place

Jesus’ presence is changing and shifting people’s perception of God’s presence

God is inbreaking, here, and now

In this liminal space

Through Jesus the Christ

/         /         /

As per usual, the disciples return and bring us back to reality

They disrupt the liminal space where Jesus and the woman lost track of culture and regulations and what “should” be happening

But it’s too late

The divine disruptive work has been done

the woman has been transformed by this experience

Everything has changed

          /         /         /

Forgetting the water and her bucket

Forgetting her status as an outcast in her town

Forgetting the social norms she’s lived by all of her life

The woman raced back to the city and became a witness

She proclaimed, as the newest disciple of Jesus

“Come and see”

/         /         /

Liminal spaces seem increasingly rare within our culture,

We have become proficient in holding expectations and social normative behaviors

As we focus on time

Schedule

The plan and

Productivity

Can you imagine being delayed by two whole days as Jesus and the disciples did in Samaria?

/         /         /

Our way of living leaves little room for God to interrupt us

For God to disrupt our busy days

And for us to be transformed

/         /         /

Several years ago I started paying more attention to disruptions

I’m a recovering type-A person who had much rigor around schedule and plans

My children have assisted me greatly in breaking this habit J

I hated disruption /        /         /

until I changed my perspective

I began to see disruption as opportunity

I began to be curious and more open in the midst of disruption

Some people call this “flow” or “mindfulness”

But I realized something incredible within the disruptions in my life

They opened me to a new and transformative space

Beautiful things happened there

These disruptions created space for God to enter my life

          /         /         /

As you go about your week and continue to reflect upon this gospel and whatever character you resonate with this time

Consider how they experienced disruption

Consider how they remained curious

Consider how they opened themself to something new

And witness how they experienced the presence of God

/         /         /

We, like the woman, have many competing identities

May we prioritize our identity as a beloved child of God above all

May we engage our passions in a way that causes us to lose track of time

May we allow disruptions into our lives with curiosity and openness

May we embrace newness and creativity

May this way of being open a liminal space within our lives

May we experience divine transformation in unexpected places and times…and

May we have the courage to witness and proclaim

“Come and see!”                              

Amen.

Mother Teresa once said, “The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”  I believe Mother Teresa’s words are very insightful.  I, too, believe there is a deep yearning and spiritual hunger for God in our country and in our world, a hunger that simply seems to increase with the passing of time.

Today’s gospel reading tells the story of a man who has such a deep hunger for God.  In this story, Nicodemus comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness, and he is hungry.  He comes to Jesus during the night, and he has a spiritual hunger that is gnawing away at his very soul.  He has a hunger deep within, a hunger he cannot fully identify. Now, Nicodemus is a Pharisee, so he comes during the night when he will not be seen.  Yet, he comes wanting to find out more about Jesus and what Jesus is teaching. 

Spiritually hungry Nicodemus does not understand the things Jesus has been telling him, so Jesus references a strange Old Testament story to make his point.  This old story by the way would have been very familiar to Nicodemus, good Pharisee that he was.  Jesus reminds him of the Israelites who, during their forty-year wilderness wanderings, had sinned.  They had grumbled about Moses and had grumbled about God, and they faced punishment.  In part, the punishment was being bitten by snakes.  The Israelites then cried out to God for deliverance and God used the strangest thing to save them.  Moses formed a bronze serpent, mounted it on a pole, and hoisted it upward.  When the Israelites looked at it, they were healed, they were saved from death from poisonous snakebites.  Strange as it seems to us, the Israelites were instructed to look upon this bizarre symbol of redemption to be relieved of the suffering they had brought upon themselves by their rebellion against God. 

Anyway, Jesus then connects this bizarre story to himself as he continues to teach Nicodemus.  He draws an analogy between the “lifting up” of the Son of Man and Moses lifting up the bronze serpent in the wilderness.  Jesus says that, in like manner, the Son of Man must be “lifted up” so that “whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”  And, as he attempts to feed the gnawing hunger within the heart of Nicodemus, Jesus speaks words that have become some of the best-known, best-loved verses in all of scripture – John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” 

“For God so loved the world….”   For God so loved the world?  Just think about that.  When I think of the world, I see a small planet in the vastness of space.  And this miniscule dot of an insignificant planet that is barely even a speck in the vastness of space is our world, and it is so deeply, tragically broken.  On this planet, people are daily being shot on our streets. Mass shootings abound as guns have become idols. There is war in Ukraine and unrest in so many parts of this world. The United Nations estimates that 795 million people in the world literally go hungry and suffer from chronic undernourishment.  Economic injustice just continues to grow. There is no longer a day that goes by when we do not see some new manifestation of climate change, something we have brought upon ourselves. Hate and division seem prevalent in so many places within our culture. Dysfunction seems to rule in government, in our own communities, in our own families, and within our very selves!  The world is so very, very broken!  Yet, God so loved the world?

Yes.  God so loves this world!  And, in the gospel of John the Greek word for “world” refers to the cosmos – to everything!  God so loves everything – the entire cosmos, the entire creation, this little, miniscule planet that is hardly a speck in the vastness of space, all the people, the land, the animals, the bugs, the world’s goodness, and the world’s deep brokenness.  David Lose, when blogging about this verse writes, the Greek word kosmos “designates throughout the rest of John’s Gospel an entity that is hostile to God.  This means that we might actually translate these verses this way, ‘For God so loved the God-hating world, that God gave God’s only Son…’ and ‘God did not send the Son into the world to condemn even this world that despises God but instead so that the world that rejects God might still be saved through him.’ Really – God’s love is just that audacious and unexpected. Which is why, according to Paul, it probably seems both scandalous and a little crazy.  And that audacious, unexpected, even crazy character of God’s love is probably why it saves!”

When Jesus appears on the scene, Jesus brings us a whole new understanding of the world God loves. God loves broken people. You see, God sent the Son to show us just how much, and to what lengths, God would go to tell us the world is loved with an audacious, transforming love.  Yes, the gospel of John tells us God so loves the entire God-hating world so much that the entire creation can find its home in God.  God loves this broken world with an immense, immeasurable, redeeming love. This is a love that disturbs us, gnaws at our hearts, creates a hunger for God, unsettles us, grasps us, and draws us into the very arms of God’s love where we become forever changed and transformed.  And, once we have been grasped by this love, we find it is a love that will never ever let us go.  We then discover that our true home, the home of all creation, is in God.  Yes, God so loves the world, and it is in turning one’s face toward Jesus and looking to the cross where we finally find the love that fills the gnawing hunger in our hearts.  There we discover the beloved one whom God gave to the world out of love for the cosmos.   There we begin to know the breadth and depth of God’s redeeming love for God’s people.  That is the way of Jesus and that is the message of the cross. And it is God’s redeeming love that changes us and causes us to respond to the needs of the world. We, too, then see the world in a different light. When God’s redeeming love fills our hungry souls, we are then compelled to work for peace and justice in this broken world. 

As we hear Jesus’ words today, we so often get stuck on verse 16. However, we really need to hear the words of verse 17 when Jesus says, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”  Here Jesus affirms and repeats that the Son was not sent to condemn this God-hating world. Jesus’ message is not about who’s in and who’s out, as far too many want to claim when quoting these verses. Rather, it is about God’s consistent intent to love, save, and bless this whole world…..If God’s love is for all, then we who have experienced that love in Christ are called to see persons of other faiths and persons of no faith through the lens of that profound, surprising, unsettling, audacious love. That means embracing not just those who are like us, but also embracing all those we consider other!

In the early days of Jesus’ ministry, Nicodemus came by night and had a gnawing hunger within himself.  He came to Jesus, seeking to fill a hunger he did not really understand.  Nicodemus was invited into the way of Jesus, invited into the love God has for the whole world, the cosmos, and he did not initially get or understand what Jesus was saying.  And, quite frankly, far too often we don’t get what Jesus is saying.  However, it is likely Nicodemus grew in understanding and was transformed because when we get to the end of John’s gospel, we find out Nicodemus did not abandon Jesus.  It was Nicodemus along with Joseph of Arimathea, who cared for Jesus’ body after the crucifixion.  He was ultimately captured by the love God has for this world because this is a love he could not escape. 

I agree with Mother Teresa, there is a deep, gnawing hunger for love and there is a hunger for God in our culture and in the world.  And the good news is that, in the person of Jesus, we discover a God who loves this broken, God-hating world and our very broken selves so deeply that no one, absolutely no one, can escape God’s all-encompassing, unconditional love.

This is a special musical performance by the Chancel Choir of Thy Will Be Done with soloist Ryan Thompson today at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

Four days ago, on Ash Wednesday, I sent you a sermon about God creating earth creature Adam from the dust of the ground and breathing God’s breath into Adam to give life. 

And how God’s breath, God’s Spirit, connects with each one of us

Today we pick up the story of Adam in the garden of Eden with his partner, the woman, and face the first question of evil and suffering in the bible. 

We then hear about Jesus in the wilderness and the temptation he faced

These stories take us to the heart of an age-old question about human suffering.

The questions I struggle most with as a hospital chaplain are

Why do people suffer, and where is God in the midst of suffering?

First, I think it’s important that we explore the meaning of suffering

Suffering requires endurance or tolerance

It is usually not a one-time experience

But something that is persistently unpleasant, or even painful

Suffering can be imposed by oneself, or by another

Today, and throughout this season of Lent, we explore the reality of suffering as part of the human condition

even Jesus, the Christ, experienced suffering

And through Jesus, God also understands human suffering./      /          /

 

One year ago I was assigned Douglas John Hall’s book “God & Human Suffering” for class

I loved his perspective on this question of suffering, and was happily surprised I’d have an opportunity to use his work,

as the scriptures for today align well with Hall’s material.

Hall presents that some forms of suffering belong in God’s creation of human beings

Some forms of suffering are part of our design as humans

Suffering comes along with our process of becoming. (p. 57)

The creation story and Matthew’s gospel both engage Hall’s theory that life’s struggle, the process of becoming, involves suffering

Hall presents four aspects of suffering that are part of human creation, the human condition

Those are: Loneliness, Limits, anxiety, and temptation

This suffering exists in the midst of us straying away from God’s hope for us 

The denial of God’s presence with us and to us

The denial of God’s call to each one of us

As we attempt to have more power and control over our lives

and struggle to allow God to be God within our process of becoming

The key to Hall’s entire argument is that suffering and struggle, as part of our human design, must promote meaningful life

So egregious human acts of war, violence, oppression …

These lie outside of what we’re talking about today   /         /         /

 

So let’s consider loneliness…

Loneliness creates suffering because by design humans are intended for relationship

Loneliness is the opposite of relationship and love that God calls us toward

In creation God proclaims that it is not good for human Adam to be alone

So God creates animals and a human partner to accompany Adam through life

Experiencing loneliness inspires us to seek meaningful relationships

It’s a feeling that tips us off that we we’re missing a core part of our being

Which is relationship  /         /         /

 

Limits:  We live in a society that continuously strives to defy limits

Living as though the earth is limitlessly productive and resilient

Living as though our individual lives have no limits

We create a society where we can access anything,

where nothing is forbidden,

where medicine can keep our hearts beating and lungs breathing…

keep us “alive”… long past the time that our living has ended

Hall asks us to wonder how human beings under such conditions

Of limitlessness ever experience awe

Surprise

Or gratitude?

The stories in both Genesis and Matthew today explore limits. 

Just after Jesus was baptized and the Spirit of God proclaimed

“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased”

Jesus went out to the wilderness as many others had gone before him,

The wilderness… where everything is stripped away

Except for himself

In this wilderness the tempter came to push Jesus’ limits

Jesus could have turned the stones into bread

He possessed the power to do great and miraculous things

However, Jesus fully embraced his humanness in this place of wilderness

And limited the use of his power     /         /         /

 

Anxiety:  Hall is not talking about chronic anxiety that reduces one’s ability to live life abundantly

But he is referring to the human capacity to be aware of our condition

To contemplate the past, present and future of not only ourselves,

But of others, extending beyond our community and into the cosmos…

This incredible awareness causes anxiety as we face choices

And decision-making about how our actions impact ourselves and others

The woman experienced anxiety in the story of Genesis today as the serpent makes her aware of what she might be missing out on

The serpent is not evil, but good, created good as part of God’s creation

And knowledge isn’t necessarily evil either

But this awareness, this fear of missing out, creates anxiety within humans

As we struggle to make choices

The woman becomes anxious about what she might not see

About a God-like power that she could possess, but may not

And in the midst of this anxiety… she takes a bite     /         /         /

 

When we move through anxiety, we are able to recognize hope

And experience comfort,

relief,

and even joy

Which is God’s call to each one of us      /         /         /

 

Finally we hear about temptation

The woman is tempted

Jesus is tempted

We are tempted

Temptation challenges us to decide

Temptation brings discomfort, even suffering, as we struggle

to choose righteousness, justice, and truth

And temptation also connects us with our human capabilities of freedom, decision-making, sacrifice, and restraint

Hall states that:

“Without temptation, human beings would lack the challenge that is necessary

for the development both of its rational powers of discernment

and its moral capacities for goodness” (p. 59).       /         /         /

 

Loneliness… limits…anxiety… temptation

Forms of suffering that guide us in our becoming

I think of them like the bumpers that beginners use in bowling

To help them stay out of the gutter where all becomes lost

As we bump up against these forms of suffering throughout our lives,

perhaps we can consider them from a new perspective

 

“Life without suffering would be no life at all

 As life depends in some mysterious way upon the struggle to be” (p. 60)

Becoming who we are, who we’re meant to be, who we want to become

This struggle often brings pain and suffering

Because we are aware, we are conscious, of the vastness of the cosmos

Within this struggle “we become active participants in our life process. 

And because of our vast awareness,

We are reminded of God’s role in our becoming

We recognize that we can’t do it all on our own

As we navigate loneliness

Impose limits

Acknowledge our anxiety

And resist temptation

We create space for God       /         /         /

 

“the temptation of Everyperson is to have their being

rather than having to receive it,

daily, like the manna of the wilderness or the daily bread of the Lord’s prayer” (81)

During this season of Lent

May we fully embrace our created humanness and the suffering of our becoming

May we acknowledge God’s loving presence with us and to us

In those spaces of suffering

As we face loneliness, limitations, anxiety and temptation

May we have the discernment and the courage,

Like Jesus,

To say “Away with you Satan”

And allow the angels of God to wait on us

This is a special musical presentation of Minuet by Charles Lloyd with Michael Fox on Clarinet at Faith Lutheran Church.

Matthew 17:1-9; Transfiguration A; 2/19/23            Pastor Ellen Schoepf

As we gather this morning, I am sure most of us are feeling the trauma of this past week and we are grieving. As I have been reflecting on the tragedy at MSU, I have also been thinking about the ways in which moments of grief, anger, injustice, etc., sometimes become windows into the divine and then, in those moments, we become changed.  That is what the cross is about and this week we will begin to focus more intently on the cross as we move into Lent.  As we begin our Lenten journey this Wednesday, the inevitability of the cross looms before us, and there is nothing we can do to change the fate of our Lord. Yet, as we face the cross, and as we face those moments in life when grief is so present, as we face the horror of this past week, it can become a window into the divine. I know this happens because I have experienced it.

As a pastor, I have the privilege of being with you and walking with you during some of the most difficult times and moments of your lives. Quite honestly, it is in those times that I often find God’s presence to us to be palpable, and I am always changed. There are times when these moments are truly transcendent moments, saturated with God’s loving presence. And I always realize that in those times, we are standing on holy ground. 

One of those moments for me happened a year ago this past December.  As I tell you this story, I will mention that Charlotte Rasmussen has given me permission to share it with you.  She and Tom were in Florida for the winter when Tom had a heart attack. Tom was rushed to the hospital and underwent surgery, but complications ensued.  Their daughter Ellen, Charlotte, and I were in touch with each other throughout those challenging days. Tom’s condition worsened. It was apparent he would not recover, and he was near death.  On Christmas Eve day 2021, they called and wondered if we could do a short service over the phone. I had never thought of doing such a thing and quite frankly I was wondering how this would work out, but I said sure. Charlotte’s daughter-in-law was able to connect other family members to our phone call while Ellen, Ken and others were in the hospital room with Charlotte and Tom. In those moments, as Tom faced the end of his life, I led the service for The Commendation of the Dying. And in those moments, in the midst of so much grief and suffering, all of us experienced the transcendent presence of God. We experienced that window to the divine. Even though we were separated by countless miles, we were one in the body of Christ and we all experienced God’s presence to us.  We knew we were standing on holy ground.  I will be honest with you.  I was forever changed by that experience of Christ’s presence to us on that day.

As I reflect on the events of this past week, the event of Tom Rasmussen’s death, and the gospel story we are given today, I know the presence of the Risen Christ often appears in times of deepest grief. We experience a window into the divine and we become changed.  In today’s gospel reading, we find Peter, James, and John accompanying Jesus up the mountain after Jesus has just told them they are headed to Jerusalem where he will be killed. Jesus has told them about his imminent death. It is only human that in their minds they play out the next few days and weeks.  Quite honestly, they probably begin to look for alternatives, desperate for a second opinion, a way to stop time. They want to build a sanctuary away from the world, to be content in the moment, saving Jesus and themselves from the heartache to come.  However, they cannot do this, and neither can we. Yet, on that mountain, God breaks into their lives and the grief they are experiencing. In the moment of transfiguration, they experience a window into the divine as Jesus’ divinity is affirmed. And in that moment, the disciples are given eyes to see God’s light in the chaos to come, the chaos of death, loss, fear, and resurrection, all of which would become the work of the early church. You see, the challenge to the disciples, to the early church, and to us is to live in a world without Jesus’ bodily presence. The transfiguration, a word meaning to be changed, anticipates this challenge, inviting us to live our days in “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” As that light shines in our hearts, the incarnate God is made real in the every day of our lives.

In the transcendent moments of life, those remarkable moments and times when we deeply feel the presence of Christ, God prepares us to endure the world and its brokenness, the world of the cross, the world where we experience mass shootings in our own community, the world that has the ability to break us and yet is never beyond God’s redemption. And, sometimes, those transcendent moments even happen in the presence of immense grief, as Charlotte, Ellen and I experienced on that Christmas Eve day in 2021.

The transfiguration offered Peter, James and John the paradox that while there is nothing they can do to save themselves from suffering, there is also no way they can shield themselves from the light of God that sheds hope in their darkest moments. That mountain was the way for God to prepare Jesus’ human band of companions for the sacred journey that was to come, to offer something to hold on to when they descended into the crushing reality of the world below.

In this story Jesus is preparing his disciples for the cross – it’s going to come, so be ready, he seems to say. Jesus knows it’s the only thing that’s going to transfigure them, to change them. In that moment in the depth of grief, they experience a window into the divine. And the same thing goes for us as well. You see, suffering has this strange and marvelous ability to pull us into oneness and experience the divine. Maybe you’ve seen it happen in your family, maybe in a moment like the one Charlotte and I experienced, maybe at the funeral of a loved one or some other communal tragedy, maybe even through this past week’s tragic experience at MSU, and we discover we are in this together, we are in this together as the body of Christ.

Today’s gospel reading marks a pivotal point in Jesus’ ministry, and it was a pivotal point in the lives of the three disciples.  I dare say that this reading presents a pivotal point for us as we walk through the doorway into Lent.  Jerusalem and the cross stand before us.  This Wednesday, we will be reminded of our brokenness and our mortality as we are smeared with ashes and begin traveling with Jesus to the cross.  The cross – that place of death and sorrow where we discover a love so big it envelops the entire world! The cross – the ultimate window into the divine because it is a place of transforming love, a place that changes us.

As our community continues to grieve and move through the trauma we have experienced, one thing I know for certain is that the God who in Jesus journeyed to the cross, also walks with us and is present to us in our grief. The moment of transfiguration is that point at which God says to the world and to each of us that there is nothing we can do to prepare for or stand in the way of joy or sorrow.  However, we also cannot escape the light that God will shed on our path. We cannot escape God, Immanuel, God with us. So, as we still grieve and Lent begins, be open to be changed, be open to be transformed, and be open to be made new.  May God richly bless our journey!

This is a special musical presentation of The Servant Song by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church.

This past week was a challenging one for some of us.  The incident at Okemos High School this past Tuesday created some real trauma within our community.  So, I am ready for some good news!  But, as I read today’s gospel, we receive words that do not appear to present us with the good news we seek. 

I don’t know about you, but today I don’t really like to hear Jesus’ words. Jesus is on a tirade, and he seems to be having an outburst of some kind.  Jesus is not messing around and, quite frankly, he seems to have done an about face.  He is still preaching his Sermon on the Mount which began with the Beatitudes – those beautiful words of promise and blessing.  Then, last week he told us we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  And now we get this diatribe of seeming vitriol.  What has happened?  Why the dramatic change?  One could almost think he is having some sort of meltdown as he quickly jumped from telling us that we are salt and light, to this message we hear today.  Suddenly Jesus hits us with this eruption of words regarding judgement, murder, prison, divorce, lust, tearing out eyes, chopping off body parts, and being thrown into hellfire of the burning garbage dump outside the city!  Frankly, I have to ask, “Jesus, why do you pronounce blessings and then proceed to let loose with this rant?  Why are you getting so intense with us when we just want to sit at your feet and learn?  After all, we are so hungry for some good news!”

Well, today, Jesus seems to be giving us a heavy-duty dose of the law.  He does this by delivering a new interpretation of the law as he addresses some of the more contentious issues of his day.  And, as we take an initial look at both the Old Testament reading from Deuteronomy and Jesus’ words in the gospel of Matthew, it seems that we are given a hefty prescription of the law including some heavy penalties for disobeying the law.  Yet, if we take a closer look, I think we can gain not only a helpful understanding of the law but also a clearer picture of the God we worship. 

Martin Luther stressed that the law, specifically the Ten Commandments, is the precious gift of an adoring parent given to beloved children, urging them to treat each other well.  The commandments are all about teaching us how to live together as God’s beloved community.  That was Jesus’ understanding of the law, and he begins this segment of his sermon by referencing the Ten Commandments.  In doing so, he takes these laws to a new level by broadening them and expanding on their meaning.  And he gets intense as he delivers his expanded interpretations.  He does this because the God of Scripture is all about relationships – our relationship with God, our relationships with each other and our relationship with our very selves.  God cares deeply and passionately about how we treat each other because God loves each one of us so much. 

Jesus knows that to live together as the community of God’s people and confess that our relationships matter to God means expanding our understanding of the nature and purpose of God’s commands.  So, as Professor David Lose writes, Jesus doesn’t simply heighten the force of the law, he broadens it as he says:

• It’s not enough just to refrain from murder. We should also treat each other with respect and that means not speaking hateful words.  The reality is words matter.
• It is not enough to avoid physically committing adultery. We should also not objectify other persons by seeing them as a means to satisfy our physical desires by lusting after them.
• It is not enough to follow the letter of the law regarding divorce. We should not treat people as disposable, and we should make sure that the most vulnerable are provided for.  And, in the culture of that time as well as in places in our world today, the most vulnerable usually were and are women and children.
• It is not enough to keep ourselves from swearing falsely or lying to others. We should speak and act truthfully in all our dealings so that we don’t need to make pledges at all.

As Jesus preaches to us today about the law and its meaning, he makes use of hyperbole.  His use of exaggerated language regarding cutting off body parts and burning in hell serve to magnify just how important our relationships are to God.  God deeply cares!  Now, such an understanding of a God who cares about our very relationships probably runs contrary to most people’s perception of God.  Quite honestly, for most people I would bet that if we asked them to describe what God, the lawgiver, is like they would probably have an image of God as one sitting some place up there with a perpetual finger raised in warning and perhaps accusation.  As Pastor David Lose says, people tend to have a picture of God “captured by a familiar line of that great American folk hymn: ‘He knows when you are sleeping; he knows when you’re awake.  He knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness’ sake!’  While that may seem funny, many folks do picture God as some stern Santa Claus, always ready to judge us for breaking God’s laws.”

Jesus’ words in this passage are very challenging.  And his hyperbolic language can reinforce the stern law giver image of God.  But the reality is that God is not so interested in us keeping the law for the law’s sake, but for our sake.  God is like that loving parent who establishes rules when they tell their child things like don’t play in the street, or treat each other well, or don’t talk meanly to each other.  You see, God is interested in our hearts and in our relationships with one another.  As Jesus speaks to the disciples and to each one of us, he wants us to really look at the heart of our actions and look at the root cause of those things we do that are not life-giving.  Those are things that break relationships and those are the very places where we need this God of love to be present.  Quite frankly, it is our hearts God wants more than anything.  God wants to transform our hearts and make us new, and God wants to do this regardless of any mistakes we make or have made.   Jesus wants us to look at our hearts and look at the root of our actions, whatever they are, because that is where we need God. 

Our God is a relational God.  God is all about relationship and mutuality.  That is the very point of the Ten Commandments.  They are given as gift to help us live together in relationship.  And, quite frankly, it is sin that causes us to break our relationships and become separated from each other.  It is sin that manifests itself as separation from God, from each other and from our very selves.  I like the way Franciscan priest, Richard Rohr, describes this aspect of sin.  He writes:

True evil and true sin must be very well disguised to survive.  Separation will normally not look like sin, but will often resemble propriety and even appropriate boundary-keeping.  “I have a right to be upset!” the righteous soul says. 

Well, today, Jesus is again calling us to turn from separation to a life of living in healthy, mutual relationship with God and with each other.  That turning is what we call repentance.  And God is always ready and willing to bathe us in forgiveness and love.  As Richard Rohr talks about this relational way of living, he writes, “Every time God forgives us, God is saying that God’s own rules do not matter as much as the relationship that God wants to create with us.” 

Jesus is not really on a tirade today.  He uses hyperbole and goes to great lengths to take us to a new understanding and show us the gift we have been given in the law.  He is giving us a deeper understanding of a God who is all about relationships and love, and a God who deeply desires for us to live together as God’s beloved community. 

Some students once asked Martin Luther, “What is your picture of God?”  Luther replied, “When I think of God, I think of a man hanging on a tree.”  Luther responded with those words because in the cross of Christ we see God’s love poured out for the whole world and we are reminded that God will go to any and all lengths to communicate just how much God loves us so that we, in turn, may better love one another. 

So, go, be reconciled to God, to one another and to your very selves.  Go, and live into love, the love that God showers upon each one of us. This news today IS truly good news!