This is a special musical performance by the Faith Bells of Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan of O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.

This is a special musical performance by the chancel choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan of I Will Keep My Eyes On You.

Historian, Douglas Brinkley, writes: “Usually, one day in a century rises above the others as an accepted turning point or historic milestone. It becomes the climactic day, or 'the day,' of that century.”  9/11 was a huge turning point for our country.  And, I suspect there are more to come in this century.  Turning points bring major change and they cause us to move in a different direction.  Turning points can cause global change, change within an entire culture or, if the turning point is in our own life, it can cause us as individuals to change the direction we are going.  I know I have experienced turning points in my life and it is because of those turning points that I am here today.

Well, today we come to the place in the gospel where we find the central turning point in Mark.  Just before this reading, Jesus has asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” In response, impetuous Peter had gotten all excited and professed that Jesus is indeed the long-promised Messiah.  And now, Jesus immediately begins to tell his disciples what being the Messiah is all about, what he will be doing.  He says, “It is necessary that the Son of Man proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive.”  Well, Jesus’ words to the disciples are devastating.  His words shatter and obliterate the disciples’ preconceived notions of everything they expected a coming Messiah would do.  So, as reactive Peter hears this, he immediately backs away and rebukes Jesus.  Jesus’ words simply destroy the glamor of following this long-expected Messiah.  This is certainly not the kind of life Peter wants to undertake.  While Jesus seems to be the Messiah, the Jewish people had never expected a leader who must suffer and die.  That was simply ludicrous and irrational.  Who in their right mind chooses to “proceed to an ordeal of suffering” as Jesus says he is doing?  And, who in their right mind wants to even follow a leader who is on his way to die?  This comes as a complete surprise. Nothing they have experienced has prepared them for Jesus to say he will suffer and die on a cross.  And, what is even more appalling is that Jesus is telling them that if they want to be his disciples, they must deny themselves and take up their crosses and follow him!  No, this is NOT what they had hoped for.

Now, lest we judge Peter too quickly, we need to take a serious look at ourselves.  Jesus’ words are just as hard for us to hear.  You see, most of us choose religion and come to believe important things deeply because we feel they are good for us.  We like a religion that makes us feel good.  We like a faith that fits our comfortable, recreational life styles.  We like a faith that makes us feel happy, loved, at peace, and free from the challenges of life around us.  We want a religion that will make us healthy, wealthy and wise.  We want to follow a strong God who “heals our illnesses, provides ample prosperity, guarantees security, and urges our sports teams on to victory.”  (David Lose) Suffering does not fit into that plan.  It is not appealing.  If anyone of us are offered a life of suffering versus a life free from suffering, you can be your bottom dollar we are going to go for the one that is pain free!  Yet, this is where we must get very honest about the Christian life.  Christianity is not about living an easier life, living a life free from pain, or believing in a God we can turn to as our personal Santa Claus to help solve life’s problems and give us all we want.  Quite frankly, following Jesus is often going to make our lives more complicated and challenging.

Jesus’ words are hard and his way extreme.  Surely God did not covenant with Abraham and Sarah, and with their descendants to bring them into the promised land only to say, “Now let it all go.”  The Messiah is supposed to offer security, protection, and put Israel back on top.  Faith in Jesus, Peter is learning, is not about the elimination of risks, the preservation of life, and the ability to control.  Instead, Jesus asks us to risk it all, abandon our lives, and relinquish control to God.  That is what Jesus is doing and he expects nothing less of those who would follow him.

The way of Christ, self-denial, reminds us that our life is not our own.  It belongs to God.  It reminds us that we are not in control, God is.  Our life is not about us.  It is about God.  There is great freedom in knowing and living this truth, freedom to be fully alive.  Through self-denial our falling down becomes rising up, losing is saving, and death is resurrection.

As long as we believe our life is about us we will continue to exercise power over others, try to save ourselves, control our circumstances, and maybe even rebuke Jesus.  Jesus rarely exercised power over others or tried to control circumstances.  He simply made different choices.  Self-denial is not about being out of control or powerless.  It is about the choices we make.

Jesus chose to give in a world that takes, to love in a world that hates, to heal in a world that injures, to give life in a world that kills.  He offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent.  He trusted God’s abundance when others said there was not enough.  With each choice he denied himself and showed God was present.

At some point, these kinds of choices will catch the attention of and offend those who live and profit by power, control, and looking out for number one.  People who are offended will not deny themselves.  They will react.  Jesus said they would.  He knew that he would be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes.  It happens in every age for those who choose the path of self-denial.  When it happened for Jesus, he made one last choice.  He chose the cross and resurrection over survival.

Every day of our lives we face choices, and some of those choices are real turning points.  In today’s reading, Jesus says to each of us, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead.  You’re not in the driver’s seat, I am.  Don’t run from suffering, embrace it.  If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me. Follow me and I’ll show you how.  Self-help is no help at all.  Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self.  What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you?  What could you ever trade your soul for?” 

The point at which Jesus says this to his disciples is the turning point in Mark’s telling of the Jesus story and it is the turning point for each of us in our life of faith. The words Jesus speaks to us today present THE big defining choice for every Christian.  “If any of you want to follow me, you must deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me….”

Come and here a Sermon based on the Gospel of Matthew 5: 1-3

On this first Sunday in Lent we intentionally embark on a forty-day journey to the cross.  And every year, on this first Sunday in Lent, we encounter Jesus experiencing forty days in the desert as we begin our forty-day journey.  As Mark tells the story, we find Jesus is driven or pushed into the wilderness.  The gospel writer tells us Jesus has just been baptized by John, an experience in which he saw the sky violently split open and God’s Spirit descend upon him in the form of a gentle dove.  He has just heard God’s voice say to him, “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love.  You are the pride of my life.”  Then, immediately following this experience the same Spirit that descended upon him as a gentle dove, turns into a dive bomber or mac truck and pushes Jesus out into the wild.  We are not given any hint or clue that Jesus chose to do this of his own volition.  The writer of Mark’s gospel makes it clear that Jesus was forcefully driven or pushed into the wilderness by the Spirit, something outside of himself. 

Now, the wilderness is not a safe place.  It is a treacherous, wild place with tricky, barren terrain. It is a place where one experiences the burning rays of the beating sun, the hungry wolves and wild beasts, and something many of us do not like to face – solitude.  We can probably surmise that, like most of us, when Jesus faced solitude he faced his own inner voices.

Mark tells us that, having been driven into the wilderness, Jesus was tempted or tested by Satan.  Jesus did not choose to go into the wilderness and he did not choose to be tempted.  Beyond this, Mark simply does not give us many details about Jesus’ forty-day experience.  Unlike the other gospels, we are not given any scripted arguments between Jesus and Satan and no details about hunger for food or power.  All we are told is that Jesus was in the wilderness for forty days, was tempted by Satan, was with the wild beasts and the angels waited on him.  Yes, the angels took care of him.  God’s presence was there for him and with him throughout that forty-day experience. And, as we begin our forty-day Lenten journey, we remember Jesus’ experience and we are given the promise that God is with us as we face our own challenges in the wilderness experiences of our lives. 

The wilderness or the desert is not only a physical, geographical place.  It is also a spiritual place where we find multiple spots to engage in self-examination, struggle and repentance.  It is a place where we often discover we have to face ourselves.  And, the wilderness is not a place where we eagerly volunteer to go.  Quite frankly, we do not choose to experience times of temptation, struggle, sorrow or pain.  We do not go out actively seeking challenging situations or hardships.  Now, I do not for one minute believe that God causes us to experience hardship or suffering in life.  I do not believe that God causes us any kind of misery to teach us a lesson or punish us in any way.  That is not the kind of loving God Jesus proclaims.  Yet, we do face times of struggle, trial and misery in our lives.  However, just as God was present to Jesus during those trying forty days, God is present to us in all of our challenges in life, those times when a marriage comes to an end, those times when we find our children struggling, those times when a loved one dies, those times when we or a loved one struggles with addiction, those times when we lose a job, those times of hardship when we cannot sense a glimmer of hope, those times when we as a nation again experience the horror of another shooting like last Wednesday in Florida, those times when our experience seems void of the presence of God.  God is there, present to us in all of the struggles and temptations we face, in all of the chaos and pain.  And, God is at work in the depth of those experiences, transforming them, bringing order out of chaos and bringing forth newness and life.

As we intentionally take time for reflection and repentance during this Lenten season, we begin in the wilderness.  Lent can be a time to take stock in our lives, and to really begin to come clean about those things that tempt us.  The wilderness is a place where we can let go of all pretense and allow ourselves to be honest and vulnerable.  This wilderness experience can allow us to take a real look at the way we try to hide our pain, take a look at the perfectionism that plagues us, the competitive nature that drives us, the denial that is epidemic within us and around us, and take a look at the way our brokenness shapes our entire being and way of life.  This wilderness can be a place where we find the freedom to confess the messiness of our lives.  And, the truth of the matter is, the wilderness experience is not just a Lenten experience.  Whether we like it or not, the wilderness is the place where we live out our lives. 

When I was young, a time that increasingly seems long, long ago, I used to love watching MASH.  Those of you who watched that show might remember one episode where Father Mulcahy, the unit’s priest, tried to talk with a wounded soldier who had been severely traumatized by what he witnessed on the front lines of war.  When this soldier finds out Father Mulcahy had not once even been close to where the fighting was taking place, the soldier decides they just cannot talk. You see, he had no interest in hearing the pious platitudes of a person who had not been on the front lines, so he felt he could not begin to relate to the priest.  Later in the episode, after Father Mulcahy does come under enemy fire and is forced to perform an emergency medical procedure on a different soldier, even as shells are exploding all around him, the first soldier welcomes Father Mulcahy after all. Now they have a common frame of reference, and now they can talk. And, it is then that Father Mulcahy gets it and understands why the soldier had not been able to relate to him. 

In the person of Jesus, God has entered the front lines of human existence.  He has already been in the wilderness.  In the person of Jesus, God has entered into the wilderness of our lives and engaged the sharp, jagged edges of this broken, sorrow filled world.  God does walk with us through all of our experiences in the wild.  Jesus walks with each one of us through the front lines of our lives.  As he walks with us in the wilderness, we discover we can let go of the sinful, false self and entrust our messy, broken, mixed up lives to God.  And, guess what?  It is then that we finally discover our true selves.  Then, we begin to discover more deeply what it means to be named as God’s beloved child and made God’s very own.  Then we begin to discover more deeply that our entire life is bathed in God’s grace.  And, then we begin to discover how deeply we are loved by the God of all creation.

This is a special musical performance of Lamb of God, What Wondrous Love (Faure, arr. Petker) with the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir and members of Okemos Presbyterian Church choir. 

This is a special sermon from Pastor Alice Townley from Okemos Presbyterian Church as we celebrate Ash Wednesday. 

This is a special musical performance of Polonaise by Bach by the Flutes of Faith of Faith Lutheran Church of Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance of I Love To Tell The Story by the Flues of Faith of Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance of We Will Glorify by Schrader from the Chancel Choir of Faith Lutheran Church of Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance from the Joyful Noise Childrens' Choir of Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan

This is a special musical performance of Just As I Am, Without One Plea by Barry and Van Valey and performed by the Joyful Noise Childrens' Choir and with Gwynne Kadrofske on Flute.

Last Tuesday at our noon Bible Study, when we were talking about this gospel reading, Elaine Harrison mentioned that the “dazzling white” description of Jesus’ clothing stuck out as we read today’s passage.   These words made her think of the multiple Tide Ad commercials shown during the Super Bowl last Sunday.  The ads were quite funny as each showed brilliant white clothing which supposedly had been washed in Tide.  While this was very humorous, and we had a good laugh because of it, I think there is a connection to what is really happening in this passage.   You see, the gospel writer is telling a story that says something about the dazzling light of God’s presence shining through to us and around us as we daily live our lives.  It is a light we often do not see as we go about the ordinariness of daily life.

When we look at all that is happening in the world around us, I have a feeling many of us tend to ask, “Where is God in all of this?”  We live in a culture in which we think God is out there somewhere.  Maybe way up there, far removed from our everyday experience.  In fact, religion often teaches that we should seek out the presence of God.  However, the reality is that we cannot seek out God’s presence, we cannot earn God’s presence to us, we cannot prove ourselves worthy of God’s presence, nor can we do anything to prohibit God’s presence to us.  The deepest truth given to us in today’s story is that we are totally and completely enveloped in the presence of God.

As we look at today’s gospel reading, whatever happened on top of that unnamed mountain remains a mystery. There simply is no rational or logical explanation for this event that was witnessed to by Peter, James, and John.  Whatever actually happened, the transfiguration, as it came to be known, is an event that was primarily for the disciples’ benefit. Counter to what some suppose, this cannot be the revelation of Jesus’ divinity; if it were, then it would make Elijah and Moses divine as well. Neither should this be read as a final dispensation of prophetic genius in line with Moses and Elijah as if Jesus is in rank with their company.  After all, it is Jesus who is distinguished from these historical figures, and it is he who is left standing alone when the divine voice enters the scene.

First and foremost, we should understand this is a story and we should let go of our need for facts and allow a deeper truth to speak.  In fact, preeminent New Testament scholar N.T. Wright suggests that when we look at this story, “the veil of ordinariness that normally prevents us from seeing the ‘inside’ of a situation is drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.”  The veil is drawn back so we can see a deeper truth.

In verse three something dramatic but not permanent happens to Jesus.  His garments “became glistening, intensely white,” indeed so white that even the best experts in bleaching, not even Tide, could obtain such a result. This is the “transfiguration.”  The Greek word used for transfiguration is metamorpho.  It means that Jesus changed in outward appearance or form.

Now this brings up an interesting question: Is the transfiguration a story of metamorphosis where Jesus changes into something he was not before?  I don’t think so.  Metamorphosis is permanent.  But, this experience is really a revelation more than it is a mutation. For the benefit of the disciples, Jesus’ outward appearance transforms, and his inward nature of God’s pure, light-filled presence is revealed.  “The veil of ordinariness is drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.”  And, because the veil is drawn back, the disciples see something extraordinary for the first time.  Jesus is totally and completely enveloped in the presence of God.

Have you ever looked at a magnified picture of a snowflake?  If you have, from that point on, there is a sense in which one marvels at the beauty and uniqueness of every single snowflake.  Or, do you remember the first time you looked at a speck of dirt through a microscope?   What up until then had seemed a boring little speck of dirt, suddenly becomes something full of pattern, color, and even beauty.  What you see through that microscope opens up a whole different world and, from that point forward, you never look at specks of dirt the same way.  And, you can begin to realize that, yes, everything now has the potential to be more than it seems.  You see, the world we live in has many layers, many dimensions, and sometimes these dimensions, normally hidden, may appear.  There is a much deeper reality than the ordinariness we see with the naked eye.

         As the disciples see Jesus in today’s story the veil is drawn back, and they see a deeper truth, a fuller reality – God is very present in this one they call Jesus.  And, the disciples discovered they, themselves, were already living in the presence of God.  Yes, “The veil of ordinariness has been drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.”   The truth is, we need moments where the veil of ordinariness is drawn back, and a fuller reality is disclosed.  We need the kind of experiences that allow us to discover a deeper truth.  We need the kind of experiences that give us pause so that we might be reminded that we, too, are already living in the presence of God.  So often we ask God to be with us or with other people and we try to attain God’s presence.  But, as Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, puts it: “We cannot attain the presence of God because we’re already totally in the presence of God. What’s absent is awareness.”  Yes, what’s absent is our awareness of the light of God’s presence to us throughout the ordinariness of our daily lives. 

I have shared this story with you before, but it is worth sharing again.  When I worked at First Lutheran Church in Muskegon, Michigan, Pastor Bill Uetricht and I would go and lead worship at the local nursing home the first Sunday of each month.  I loved those monthly, afternoon services.  The residents, whose bodies and minds had been devoured by the effects of aging, often unable to comprehend or communicate much of anything, would come alive in beautiful ways as we experienced worship together.  I remember one special dear lady named Savannah.   She was a wheel chair bound, 94-year old African American woman whose body and mind suffered greatly, broken from the ravages of old age.  I remember Savannah because, at one of those treasured worship experiences, she spontaneously and surprisingly burst into song, gifting us with her vocal rendition of the Lord’s Prayer.  Now, as a trained musician, I love quality performances and thought I knew what beauty was.  However, as this very feeble old woman sang this prayer with her aged, weak, scratchy, shaking voice, I heard one of the most beautiful offerings I will ever hear.  It was a moment of transcendent beauty, a sacred moment in time when the light of Jesus became so brilliant and so very present.  In that moment, “the veil of ordinariness that normally prevents us from seeing the ‘inside’ of a situation [was] drawn back, and a fuller reality [was] disclosed.”  In that moment, I discovered we were enveloped in the presence of God.  And, in that moment, I was changed!

This is a special musical performance of They Shall Soar Like Eagles by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance of Morceau Symphonique a Baritone solo with Sam Kadrofske and accompanied by Kathy Richardson.

Shalom!  Shalom is the Hebrew word for peace.  Shalom is used as a word of greeting and farewell.  Shalom is not only about peace, it is about a healing wholeness, completeness and well-being.  The peace of shalom is not limited to the political domain and it is not a peace that is just about the absence of war.  It is not limited to the social domain and is not only about the absence of quarrel and strife.  Shalom is about a peace that covers many contexts and includes this cosmic principle – the manifestation of divine grace.  Shalom is the blessing of well-being and wholeness God desires for all people.  Shalom is all about God’s dream for this broken world. 

As I have been thinking not only upon the experience of our mission trip, but also current events in our present culture and all that is happening around the world, I am again reminded of how desperately this world needs to hear of God’s healing grace, God’s healing love, God’s healing peace, and God’s healing message of shalom.  Healing was a major focus and aspect of Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus lived this sense of shalom as he healed people with all kinds of diseases and ailments.  Jesus lived this sense of shalom as he proclaimed God’s dream for this world wherever he went.   

As Jesus encounters us in today’s gospel reading, he has just been teaching in the synagogue.  While there, he was rudely interrupted by a man possessed with an “unclean spirit.” Jesus had then ordered the unclean spirit to leave this man and the man was healed.  It was Jesus’ first miracle in the gospel of Mark.  And, it was an action that was all about healing and enabling that man to again be restored to life and full participation within the community. 

This morning, we find the gospel writer continuing this narrative by connecting that story to what we have as today’s gospel reading.  Jesus leaves the synagogue and he “immediately” goes to Simon’s house where he finds Simon’s mother-in-law sick with a fever.  It is still the same day, the same Sabbath, only a matter of hours later, and we find Jesus again giving life by healing Simon’s mother-in-law.  He walks over, touches her – an action that was considered unclean – then, he takes her by the hand, and lifts her up, or “raises her up.”  The Greek word Mark uses for “lifted up” or “raised up” is the same word used to tell of Jesus being lifted up on a cross.  And, it is the same word used in the gospel narrative describing Easter morning when we hear the words “he is not here, he is risen!”  This is not coincidence.  Simon Peter’s mother-in-law is raised up from her illness.  And, what does she begin to do?  She gets up from her bed and begins to feed people.  She begins to serve, to minister to others.  Healed from her illness, she begins to live into a sense of purpose and a sense of vocation.  This woman who has been touched and healed by Jesus becomes the first active witness to what a healed and resurrected life in Jesus looks like.

Healing, deliverance from pain and illness and setting people free are the hallmarks of that great prophetic dream called the Reign of God.  That dream of God is expressed in one way or another as it is threaded throughout the entirety of scripture.  The dream of God is always describing a reality where no one goes hungry, the ill and grieving are healed, and those in various kinds of prisons are set free to live abundant life, life that truly matters.  Over and over again, we hear that Jesus “went about healing many who were sick or possessed by demons.”  Healing and setting people free were foundational to Jesus’ ministry.  And, healing and setting people free are foundational to the ministry we share as members of the body of Christ.  This image of healing and setting people free is something we share because, in baptism, we too have been raised to new life.  We too have been set free.  We too have been raised to live life that truly matters and live into the ministry of serving others.

As I was growing up, my mother would frequently remind me about the fact that we are the hands and feet of Jesus in this world.  Our very bodies, the way we use them, what we do and the way we live enables us to become God’s instruments of healing in this broken world.  I was reminded of this on the Mission Trip as I listened to people’s stories about loss, the loss they experienced during Hurricane Irma.  The devastation and loss were enormous.  In the mobile home community in which we worked, 27 homes had to be totally demolished, 34 homes had already been restored, and many more need to be either demolished or restored.  Our work supervisors estimate they will still be working on this two years from now.  And, the work we did was just a small portion of a much larger effort to bring restoration and healing to that community, a community that needs to be raised up. 

We live in a world that is desperate for healing.  The need in this world is so great.  We live in a world where people desperately need and long for the touch of a caring hand.  I think each one of us has probably experienced that need at some point in our life, and we will likely experience that need again.  I also know that God’s healing, life giving presence is closer to us than the air we breathe.  And, as we live together participating in the community of faith, we live into God’s healing, gracious love, that sense of shalom.  Gerald May was a medical doctor who practiced psychotherapy in Washington, D.C.  He wrote of the importance of community in the healing process.  He writes:

God’s grace through community involves something far greater than other people’s support and perspective.  The power of grace is nowhere as brilliant nor as mystical as in communities of faith.  Its power includes not just love that comes from people and through people but love that pours forth among people, as if through the very spaces between one person and next.  Just to be in such an atmosphere is to be bathed in healing power. (Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace, 173.)

Friends, this week we begin a whole new ministry as we welcome our first refugees to the parish house.  This ministry is a form of healing, reconciliation and shalom as we share God’s boundless grace with the young men who will live in the parish house.  This is just one way that we, as a community of Faith, continue to live into God’s healing, gracious love.  And, as we participate in this reconciling work, God is not only raising up these young men to a life of hope, God is also raising us up, just as he did Simon’s mother-in-law.  God is raising us up, lifting us up so that we can live shalom, so we can live lives of service to others and bear God’s creative and redeeming love in this world. 

Frederick Buechner, an American pastor and theologian, has said something that has meant so much to me in my life, and I think it will mean something for us as we think about this new ministry to which we are called.  He writes, "The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”  Each one of us has been called.  Live into