This is a special musical performance of Twelve Gates into the City by the Treble Chorus at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

When we look at the countries in this world and the way each has defined its geographical territories we see that rivers, mountain ranges, oceans, and deserts can all serve as physical boundaries, separating one country from another. Many times, political boundaries between countries or states form along physical boundaries. For example, the boundary between France and Spain follows the peaks of the Pyrenees mountains, while the Alps separate France from Italy.  In our own country, bodies of water like the Great Lakes separate our country from Canada while the Rio Grande provides a boundary between our country and Mexico.

In Biblical times, the Sea of Galilee was a well-defined boundary.  The Jewish people were on one side of the sea, and on the other side you would find those despicable Gentiles in the country of the Gerasenes.  As we begin to move through Mark’s gospel, we find that many of the recorded events beginning in chapter four take place on alternate sides of the Sea of Galilee.  And, the most direct route from one side to the other was across the sea.  In today’s reading, when we hear Jesus command the disciples saying, “Let us go across to the other side of the Sea of Galilee,” he is indicating more than just a change of venue.  This is Jesus’ first venture in Mark’s gospel to what would be considered a dangerous, even inappropriate, destination because that is where the Gentiles resided.  Good Jewish people did not go there.  The rabbis did not go there.  Remember, the people on the other side were considered “other” and “less than.”  Yet, today, we see Jesus deliberately demonstrate his claim that his mission extends beyond the Jews.  And, by carrying his ministry into Gentile territory, Jesus reaches out to the strangers, those despised “others,” those who were considered enemies of the house of Israel.

On the way to the “other side,” a side which created great anxiety within them because they would have to come into contact with those considered “other” and “less than,” the boat encounters a great windstorm.  Now, the storm itself is not an unusual occurrence on the Sea of Galilee.  And, the disciples who are accompanying Jesus in the boat, are accustomed to the unpredictable nature of the sea.  After all, several of them were experienced fishermen.  But, the disciples become afraid and, in their fear and desperation, the disciples wake Jesus and cry out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”  Jesus then speaks saying, “Peace!  Be still!”  as he rebukes the wind and the waves.  God’s Word, embodied in Jesus, speaks to the chaos and the storm is stilled. 

Friends, we are right now experiencing a raging storm in our culture and in the world.  Right now, it feels as though we are in a small boat on a stormy sea as acts of violence and oppression are taking place within our country, and sometimes we feel helpless as we attempt to navigate this storm. Due to hatred and fear of the “other,” much violence has been and is being implemented upon families as children have been separated from their parents.  In Michigan, Bethany Christian Services has been receiving some of these children, some who are infants, and it is very possible that these children will never again see their parents.  Samaritas is presently seeking foster parents and preparing to receive twelve of these children.  However, the harm that has been done and is being done to the children is likely something from which they will never fully heal.   This will shape them in multiple ways for the rest of their lives.  And, I cannot even begin to comprehend the pain and rupture the parents of these children must feel.  This is an intense storm that we are experiencing, there is much chaos and, quite frankly, I believe many of us are scared.  In the depth of this storm, the pain and suffering that we see causes us to cry out, “God, do you not care that we are perishing?”  I say this honestly, there is a feeling of betrayal as we cry out in the midst of these evil actions and in the face of what seems to be the silence of God.

In times like these, it is easy to forget that God’s all-powerful Word is still spoken amid the noise and chaos of our lives and world.  Like the disciples, we are challenged right now in the midst of multiple storms to rediscover our faith in the promise of God’s powerful Word.  And, like Jesus’ word of peace spoken over the raging storm, God’s word still destroys the forces that threaten to do us harm and that Word still calms our deepest fears.  As Martin Luther wrote in his great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” one little word above all earthly powers can fell whatever darkness threatens to undo us.  We cannot navigate the storm alone, but that living Word is with us and in us and God is calling us to live that incarnated Word in our present context.  We may feel fear, but the incarnational Word of God is present in the Body of Christ, and the Church – the Body of Christ in this world – is called to rebuke the storm.

The God we know in Jesus is a God who welcomes all others.  This God became an immigrant by entering this world and taking on the flesh of humanity.  This God was born into a family of refugees fleeing violence in their homeland.  I want to share these words from Father Richard Rohr because they are so necessary for the church today.  He writes:

In Jesus we have an almost extreme example of God taking sides. It starts with one who empties himself of all divinity (see Philippians 2:6-7), comes as a homeless baby in a poor family, then a refugee in a foreign country, then an invisible carpenter in his own country which is colonized and occupied by an imperial power, ending as a “criminal,” accused and tortured by heads of both systems of power, temple and empire, abandoned by most of his inner circle, subjected to the death penalty by a most humiliating and bizarre public ritual, and finally buried quickly in an unmarked grave. If God in any way planned this story line, God surely intended the message to be subversive, clear, and unavoidable. Yet we largely made Jesus into a churchy icon that any priestly or policing establishment could gather around without even blushing.

Ilia Delio, a Franciscan scientist and theologian, challenges us to take the scandal and downward movement of the Incarnation quite seriously and to let it rearrange our priorities.

An incarnational bias is evident today in our globalized culture. The “problem” of immigrants, welfare recipients, incarcerated, mentally ill, . . . disabled, and all who are marginalized by mainstream society, is a problem of the incarnation. When we reject our relatedness to the poor, the weak, the simple, and the unlovable we define the family of creation over and against God. In place of God we decide who is worthy of our attention and who can be rejected. Because of our deep fears, we spend time, attention, and money on preserving our boundaries of privacy and increasing our knowledge and power. We hermetically seal ourselves off from the undesired “other,” the stranger, and in doing so, we seal ourselves off from God. By rejecting God in the neighbor, we reject the love that can heal us.

Until we come to accept created reality with all its limits and pains as the living presence of God, Christianity has nothing to offer to the world. It is sound bites of empty promises. When we lose the priority of God’s love in weak, fragile humanity, we lose the Christ, the foundation on which we stand as Christians.

Compassion continues the Incarnation by allowing the Word of God to take root within us, to be enfleshed in us. The Incarnation is not finished; it is not yet complete for it is to be completed in us.

And, one of the ways we live the incarnated Word is through our refugee project as we care for Zakaria, Rachid and Gabriel.  Yet, there is more we are called to do.

Friends, in one section of our church document called Visions and Expectations, something to which all who enter into the vocation of ministry pledge to follow, it says, “The church is to witness to God's call for justice in every aspect of life, including testimony against injustice and oppression, whether personal or systemic.  This church expects its ordained ministers to be committed to justice in the life of the church, in society, and in the world.”  That call is not only for ordained clergy, it is a call to the church.

Friends, the biblical witness is crystal clear when it comes to how Christians should feel and act toward immigrants.  There is a coherent vision of community wellbeing, and a consistent emphasis on justice, grace and neighbor-love toward all who are in need.  In the midst of this storm, we too are called to cross boundaries and care for all “others.”  God is present to us as we live into our call as Christians and we need not fear. 

I pray that God becomes more and more incarnate in us, that we continue to live that incarnated Word in this world, and that together we witness to God’s call for justice in every aspect of life.

This is a special musical performance of There Is A Balm In Gilead by Tammy Heilman at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan

Jesus did not speak to them except in parables.  Yes, this was the form of teaching and communication Jesus used.  And, quite often, I think we misunderstand what parables are meant to do as we hear them.  You see, we are people who like to solve problems.  As we look at the parables of Jesus, we don’t have to go far to find interpretations of these stories that seem to suggest parables are often presented as problems to be solved—and that once solved they can offer us “instructions for living.”  However, as Pastor Nadia Bolz Weber suggests, “Parables are not neat little moralisms dressed in narrative. They are meant to be swallowed whole. Parables are living things meant to mess with our assumptions and subvert things we never even thought to question.”  And, as I have mentioned to you before, theologian, Eugene Peterson says, “Jesus’ parables are like explosive, narrative time bombs.  We hear them ticking away and we wonder about their meaning as they continue to go on ticking.  We think maybe we finally have got it, yet it stubbornly continues to tick away and make us ponder.  We walk away, but over the course of the next day or so it still continues to tick, tick, tick away.  And then, all of a sudden, the truth Jesus meant to convey strikes home and kaboom!   When this ticking bomb of a parable explodes we are surprised and almost overwhelmed with its implications.”  (David Lose, In the Meantime blog)

Well, in today’s gospel reading Jesus is again teaching, using the story- telling device of parable to convey meaning.  Today, Jesus is describing the reality of the coming kingdom of God, the reign of God that is unexpectedly breaking in upon us, God’s presence in this present world. God’s dream for this world, is very counter to the reality we live as we go about our daily lives within the context of present culture.  Jesus knows we cannot really understand what the kingdom is like all at once.  Such understanding takes time.  So, Jesus begins teaching about the coming reign of God by using parables that are meant to be explosive.   His stories challenge the comfortable status quo and they challenge our thinking as they turn our thinking inside out and upside down.

Today’s first parable about this unusual farmer who rather indiscriminately seems to sow seed upon the ground, does not really make much sense from a rational point of view.  This crazy farmer does not prepare the soil or tend it with fertilizer.  He does not even water the seeds or pull out weeds.  He just indiscriminately throws out the seed and waits to see what happens.  The emphasis in this parable seems to be placed upon who or what causes the growth to occur after the seed hits the soil because the farmer simply goes about his life of sleeping and rising night and day.  So, what is this really about?  Well, it might possibly be about the wonder of faith or the need to be ready to bring in the harvest.  Or, just maybe, it is about our complete inability to control or dictate the coming reign of God that unexpectedly breaks in upon us in various ways whether we or others believe or not.  I have to say this possibility leaves us unsettled and uncomfortable because it leaves us in a place where we are not in control.  It leaves us vulnerable and we don’t like it.  We don’t like it when we see decline in the church.  We want to build the church, build God’s kingdom, and restore it to what we remember of days gone by.  Yet, the truth is, God’s kingdom does come regardless of our efforts.  God’s kingdom cannot be manipulated by our attempts to control because God’s kingdom can only be received.  It is all gift.  In a very real sense, the kingdom or reign of God is something that comes from outside of ourselves and grabs hold of us whether we want it to or not.  It is all gift and not dependent upon us or anything we do.  It is God who builds the kingdom, it is Christ who builds the church.

This is a difficult lesson for those of us in the church who are doers and problem solvers.  It is difficult for those of us who have such a hard time of letting go, for those of us with type A personalities who want to be in control and in charge of what is happening.  Yet, we are not responsible for making the church grow.  That is God’s work.  We are not responsible for making sure everybody “gets saved.”  That is God’s work and, quite frankly, God has already done that!  We are not responsible for making God’s kingdom a smashing success.  No.  Our job, our calling, is to simply plant the seeds and trust God to do the work of growing the kingdom. 

We live in a world where people are so very afraid of losing control.  We have been taught and continue to teach others that, in order to succeed, we must have a plan with well-defined outcomes and strategies for achieving those outcomes.  We so desperately want to be able to measure our success.  However, this is so very contrary to God’s kingdom of grace.  The work of grace, mercy, compassion, peace and justice is the work that truly matters in life and it follows a totally different outline than the plans and strategies we try to impose.  All we are called to do is live God’s grace, live the gospel, and share the good news of God’s love for this broken, needy world.

The next parable Jesus tells is about the mustard seed.  Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”  Now, if we really look at what Jesus is saying, we need to think about the mustard he is talking about.  You see, the thing about mustard seeds is that while some varieties were used as spice and others medicinally, in general they were considered at the very least pesky and often somewhat dangerous. Why?  Because wild mustard is incredibly hard to control, and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. That's why mustard would only occasionally be found in a garden in the ancient world; more likely you would find it taking over the side of an open hill or abandoned field.

So, knowing this, pick your favorite garden-variety weed -- crabgrass, dandelion, wild onion -- that's pretty much what Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to. Oh, and that part about the birds seeking refuge. Maybe it's meant as a comforting image -- birds finding shelter from the elements. Or maybe, it suggests that once mustard shrubs take root, all kinds of things happen including the sudden presence of "undesirables."

Looked at this way, Jesus' parable is a little darker, even ominous. As John

Dominic Crossan puts it:

The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control, and that it tends to attract birds within cultivated areas where they are not particularly desired. And that, said Jesus, was what the Kingdom was like: not like the mighty cedar of Lebanon and not quite like a common weed, [more] like a pungent shrub with dangerous takeover properties. Something you would want in only small and carefully controlled doses -- if you could control it (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279).

Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is…..  May these parables mess with your assumptions and subvert things you never even thought to question.  May these parables stick in your mind like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off at an unexpected time and, when it finally explodes, may it overwhelm you with surprise and make you ever new. 

This is a special musical performance by Deb Borton of The Journey Is My Own.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have had the privilege of spending some time with our grandson who is now nine months old.  He loves to play peek-a-boo.  He just loves to hide his face behind a blanket or object and then eagerly wait for us to ask, “Where’s William?”  When he hears those words, he is all smiles as he moves the blanket or whatever object it is he thinks he is hiding behind.  The ancient games of Peek-a-Boo and its close cousin Hide & Seek provide hours of glee-filled play for children as they hide behind objects, hide in bushes, under stairs, behind trees and in all kinds of places, just waiting to be found.  And, excitement always mounts as the whimsical pursuer or seeker happily stomps around searching for the hidden while calling out, “Where are you?”  Well, today as we hear this reading from Genesis, we hear the words, “Where are you?”  They are words that echo right down through the centuries and into our very lives. 

This Genesis story we hear in our first reading is part of the second creation story we find in the first book of the Bible.  Yes, there are two very different creation stories in this first book of the Bible.  Today’s reading comes from what is known as the Yahwist narrative.  It is just one among many of the early story threads gathered from multiple traditions that became sewn together to compile the book we now call Genesis.  And, as with many familiar Bible stories that we assume we understand, we often read into this passage and extrapolate ideas that are not there.  You see, this whole slithering, deceptive snake portion of the story likely was originally told to explain the animosity that exists between humans and serpents.  Furthermore, as scholars have studied these writings, theologians now agree that the snake insertion into this story was also likely meant to provide an explanation for the Israelite rejection of the Canaanite goddess Asherah, who was imaged as a snake in a tree.  Asherah was the great Canaanite fertility goddess, so one can detect here a not too subtle polemic against Canaanite religion.  And, yet another aspect that we usually do not grasp is that this serpent who appears in the story is never even identified in scripture as Satan. 

Anyway, as today’s story begins in verse eight, the serpent has already deceived Adam and Eve into disobeying God’s command, and these two human beings are now engaged in a hide and seek game of their own – a game in which the stakes are very high.  As they hunker down in the garden like children attempting to hide while fleeing the implications of their own actions, God seeks them out, fully aware that something has gone wrong.  God goes walking in the garden like the whimsical pursuer.  And, we get to listen as God calls out to them saying, “Where are you?” 

Now, it is fascinating that this is the first question God asks in Scripture.  And, what makes this question so important is that, as in every great story, this question is asked not just of the characters on the page and in the scene, it is a question that is asked of us.  You see, the stories of the Bible are our stories!  The Bible itself is such a great story because it is not so much a story of what happened to our ancestors in faith, but of what happens to each one of us.  

Notice that God does not accusingly ask, “Now just what have you done?”  No.  God simply and graciously asks, “Where are you?”  This question, a question God is always asking of us, exposes our futile attempt to hide from God.  And, at once, that question assumes an answer, an answer that reminds us we often are not where we should be.  In fact, it causes us to think about asking ourselves, “Where should we be?” 

You see, the thrust of this story is simply all about the human predicament.  Something has gone wrong.  We are not where we should be.  As we live our lives, we sense that there is an estrangement from our essential, created selves that is rooted in our alienation from our Maker and gets expressed in behaviors that alienate us from one another.  That is what sin is, turning away from God, alienation from God, from one another and from our very selves.  This story in Genesis is a story not so much of what happened to our first ancestors but of what happens to each one of us.  Our loss of innocence as we grow up and become more aware of the world around us, our alienation from our fellow humans and the animal world, our yearning for independence, and our fear of and alienation from God are all addressed in this creation story.  This story helps us understand the way in which sin alienates us from God and from one another because the hard truth is that we are sinners.  That does not mean we are rotten to the core.  Sin is the human predicament.  And, even though we try to hide while fleeing the implications of our predicament, God knows where we are.  The truth is that we cannot hide from God.  God knows us through and through and if grace meets us anywhere, it meets us in our sin. 

Notice in this story from Genesis we miss the fact that grace permeates the story.   All of a sudden, these two earth creatures are worried about not having clothes and God says, “Well, let me take care of that; I’ll give you clothes, even though I made you to be naked.”  That action of God in this story is a clear statement of grace. 

Yes, it is in the places of deepest struggle, pain and alienation where grace meets us and where we discover the Good News that God loves us no matter what and that God works through our weakness.  We do not have to hide from God for any reason.  When grace meets us, we learn that God considers us to be a treasure, just as we are, and God works in our lives, even in our brokenness.  That is the good news of Jesus Christ.  The Apostle Paul understood this quite well.  He had experienced this grace and God’s power in his own life.  Grace met him in the place of deepest sin and transformed his life.  Paul understood that the destructiveness of human sin is resolved finally and only by acknowledging our human limitations and our total dependence upon the love and grace of God.  In his second letter to the Christians who lived in Corinth, Paul says to his fellow disciples, “What we believe is that the One who raised up the Master Jesus will just as certainly raise us up with you, alive.  Every detail works to your advantage and to God’s glory:  more and more grace, more and more people, more and more praise!  So, we’re not giving up.  How could we!  Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.”  (The Message; 2 Corinthians 4:14-16)

The Good News is that ours is a God who, no matter where we wander or try and hide, already sees us and lovingly pursues us.  And, God will take every detail in our life and work through it, using it to our advantage.  We do not have to hide because of who we are or what we have done.  God loves us, and God has already found us.

So, while like my grandson, we may think we are hiding, our gracious God already knows where we are while lovingly calling out to us asking, “Where are you?”  And, this God of grace upon grace, this God of grace and more grace, is always inviting us back to God’s very self.  May we eagerly listen to God’s call and joyfully respond because, the truth is, in Jesus we have already been found by this God of grace.

Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”  He also said, “I am the resurrection and the life.”  In Jesus, we do find life, abundant life, life that truly matters.  And it is because of the gift of new life we have already been given in Jesus that we come together to worship on Sunday mornings.  Otherwise, there really is no reason to gather together.  So, as we worship and share the good news of this new life we have been given, music is the accompanying counterpoint to that life-giving message.  Theologian, Karl Barth, has said, “All history is point and counterpoint – two melodies running side by side – God’s and that of humanity.  Alone, one of them is always incomplete, even God’s.  God preferred to die rather than be without us.”  Taken together there is meaning and beauty in the rise and fall of these two melodies.  And, in Jesus, their temporal dissonance, the discord that we often see and experience, is already resolved into final harmony.  It is a done deal, folks.  And, we live our daily lives by living into what we know will be that final harmony.

Music is not only bound up and intertwined with faith and worship, it is a primary expression of faith and worship as we pray by playing music and singing words that come from the deepest places in our being.  Music, faith, worship and theology are all interrelated and interdependent.  As we think of this interrelatedness, theology (our understanding of God) prevents music from becoming an idol or an end in itself by pointing us to its origins – in the doxology of creation.  And, music prevents our theology from becoming a purely intellectual matter by moving the heart of people to consider its ultimate purpose – life, new life, the doxology of the new creation we find in Jesus, the Christ.  God is making all things new, even each one of us.  That is why we are releasing butterflies this morning.  And, that is why, on this Music Sunday, it is fitting that we give thanks for the gift of music as a primary expression of faith and worship.   It is fitting that we celebrate, through music, the new life we have been given in Christ, the new life that is already ours.

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 The Gift of Love by the Faith Bells of Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan

This is a special musical performance of One Steps He Leads by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

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

This is a special musical performance of I Am The Resurrection and the Life by the Joyful Noise Childrens' Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance of Where Your Treasure Is by the Joyful Noise Childrens' Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical performance of Plenty Good Room by the Faith Bells at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.