If you missed the Christmas Eve service at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos Michigan you can listen in to the amazing music and celebrate in the service celebrating Christmas!
American journalist and writer, P. J. O’Rourke, once said, “Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.” I agree with him - family love is very messy, and the messiness too often becomes systemic, passed down through generations. Quite honestly, life is very messy. And, the Bible is brutally honest about this messiness as it contains stories of all kinds of people in the depth of messiness and dysfunction. One of the beautiful aspects of scripture is that it speaks the truth about our very lives, the truth about the messiness that creates all sorts of systemic problems within families and communities, the messiness that prevents us from living in relationship with others, the messiness everyone experiences in some form. And, it is so fascinating that, when looking at the messiness in our own lives, our reaction to it, or our inability to thoughtfully respond in a healthy manner, is usually rooted in some aspect of fear.
In today’s gospel reading, we meet up with Joseph as we hear Matthew’s version of Jesus’ birth. While the gospel of Luke focuses on Mary, Matthew focuses on Joseph. And guess what? Joseph faces a very messy situation! Matthew does not give us the sweet, saccharine, syrupy, heart-warming stories of angels and shepherds and a baby born in a cattle stall. No. Matthew focuses on Joseph and the heart-wrenching struggle he was facing. The woman to whom he is engaged, the woman to whom he is contractually espoused, is pregnant. Mary and Joseph have not yet moved in with each other, they have not yet had sex, and Joseph experiences extreme heartache as he faces a very messy problem. Mary is pregnant and this could only mean one thing, she has been unfaithful. Can you imagine the emotions Joseph must have had when he heard this news? Anger, shock, hurt, disappointment, betrayal, fear and a need to distance himself from the mess.
Yet, as Matthew describes Joseph and the situation in which he finds himself, Matthew calls Joseph “righteous.” Now, to be righteous, according to Torah, one must strictly follow the law. Therefore, as a good law-abiding Jew, Joseph could have had Mary stoned to death. After all, stoning was the punishment commanded in the twenty-first chapter of Deuteronomy for engaged women who slept with other men. But, Matthew also tells us Joseph was a man of compassion. So, instead of stoning, Joseph decided he would quietly dismiss Mary as his wife. A quiet dismissal would hopefully minimize the public disgrace she would have to face. It is fascinating that, in the depth of his fear and the messiness, what never occurred to Joseph was that there is yet another way to be righteous - the way of acceptance and forgiveness and grace. Joseph, all on his own, couldn't possibly imagine how God could be present in so difficult, so utterly messy, so heartbreaking, so embarrassing and so dangerous a situation as Mary's pregnancy. Therefore, God had to help him.
Joseph was afraid. He was afraid to take Mary as his wife. The gospel writer tells us that, in the deep darkness of sleep, God came to Joseph in a dream. An angel of the Lord spoke to him saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” God brought truth, grace, forgiveness and love into the irrational depths and quandary of Joseph's mind, heart and being. In ways deeper and more magnificent than the mind can imagine, God changed Joseph. And because God changed Joseph, Joseph became a channel of God's grace in the world.
In the depth of the messiness of life, in the mire and sludge of the unexpected and unexplainable, in that which Joseph perceived as betrayal, in the overwhelming darkness of an experience that created fear – yes, in that place, Joseph finds God present to him. God penetrated the darkness and fear within Joseph, and that experience of God led Joseph to take Mary as his wife and name the child “Jesus” which means “God saves.”
Now, Matthew was writing to a Jewish Christian audience, people who intimately knew Jewish scripture. So, the gospel writer connects Joseph’s experience to the words of the prophet Isaiah saying,
“Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and they shall name him Immanuel.” (Immanuel is the Hebrew word for “God with us”).
The truth about the Isaiah passage we read earlier today is that when Isaiah spoke these words to King Ahaz, the king was not very hopeful. When invited by the prophet Isaiah to “ask a sign” of God, Ahaz was not interested. In fact, Ahaz said, “I will not ask.” You see, Ahaz was living in fear and he was sure he would be defeated at the hand of the conquering Assyrians. However, Isaiah – good prophet that he was – was persistent. He pointed to the perennial sign of hope and new life for all people in any time saying, “a young woman will conceive and bear a son.” The truth about Isaiah’s words to Ahaz is that the baby of which he was speaking was already in utero. We are not told who the mother of that baby was. But, because a newborn child is always the promise of hope, even in hard times, Isaiah names the child as a sign of God’s presence: Immanuel God with us.
Immanuel, God with us! These are powerful words packed full of meaning and, centuries after Isaiah, Matthew connects these words to Jesus’ birth. These words gave Jesus identity and, as theologian Daniel Patte suggests, they do not simply describe Jesus. No, these words “Immanuel, God with us” were part of Jesus’ very vocation. Jesus’ calling was and is to manifest and make known God’s presence in people’s lives and save people from their sins. Jesus’ calling then and now, is to manifest and make know God’s presence to us in the depth of our fear and the messiness of our lives.
Joseph discovered that the presence of God in the depth of the messiness of life drives out fear. God’s presence moved him beyond fear. Joseph also discovered that the experience of God’s presence brings forgiveness. And, he discovered God’s presence brings change – change within self, change within the mess, and change to the world as he perceived it to be.
We live in a world that is notorious for crushing hope. We live in a world that is notorious for turning love into a stingy commodity as if there is not enough to go around. We live in a world where we participate in creating systemic messes - messes in our lives, messes in our families, messes in our communities, monumental messes in our country and colossal messes in the world. So, I ask you, what are the messes in which you live? Listen to the voice of God’s presence in your life, the voice that will penetrate the darkness of any situation, the voice that always says, “Do not be afraid.” Listen to the voice that says, “You are loved, and your sins are forgiven.”
Christmas is all about God’s presence to us, Immanuel God with us. Christmas is all about incarnation. Christmas is about the love and grace of God that is on the way, the love that is in fact already here!! Christmas is all about God putting skin on God’s dream for the world – about God’s dream becoming flesh in this very broken, messy world. Christmas is God’s invitation to each one of us to experience within ourselves the love that forgives sin and the love that comes to bring healing to the world. And, it is only the presence of Immanuel, God with us, that transforms the systemic, predictable, messy patterns of living and enables us to live into the dream of God where all things are made new. Yes, love is on the way and the Child will be born again in us, in the depth of our neediness, in the depth of our messiness, in our hurting and pain, and in our deep longing for God. Do not be afraid because the hopes and fears of all the years are met in this One, Immanuel, God with us – this One who is on the way!
This is a special musical product of People, Look East by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of He is Born by the Faith Bells at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of The Friendly Beasts with soloists Ryan Thompson, Diane Hill, Bob Nelson and Emily Brown at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of Christmas Melody by the Flutes of Faith at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of We Will Know Him with the Chancel Choir with flutist Gwynne Kadrofske at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of Mary Had a Baby with soloist Tammy Heilman at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
I have a sign above my desk and I look at it each week as I write my sermon. It contains a quote from theologian, Soren Kierkegaard, about preaching and the proclamation of the Word. He wrote, “People have an idea that the preacher is an actor on a stage, and they are the critics, blaming or praising him (or her). What they don’t know is that they are the actors on the stage; he [or she] (the preacher) is merely the prompter standing in the wings, reminding them of their lost lines.” I really appreciate Kierkegaard’s words when he says the gathered people are the actors and the preacher is the prompter standing in the wings reminding the people of their lost lines, the lines they are called to remember as they experience the liturgy of worship and then go out and live that liturgy in their daily lives.
Today, we hear of this preacher, John the Baptist, standing in the wings of the wilderness on the banks of the Jordan river, crying out lost lines to the actors saying, “This is it! Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near. Turn around, turn back to God.” And, I have to say that for someone who might be considered a “prompter standing in the wings,” John the Baptist is really stealing the show.
You just gotta love John the Baptist! He is such a colorful figure. I love it when he appears on the scene each Advent. This intriguing, weird, bizarre, eccentric, oddball, prophetic guy who eats bugs, wears clothing made of camel’s hair and lives in the wilderness, is the one who introduces us to the stories of Jesus’ ministry in all four of the gospels. Now, quite honestly, if such a person appeared in our neighborhood, we would probably call the police. Yet, John is the one who introduces us to the narratives of Jesus’ ministry. And, in Matthew, he bursts on the scene with this fiery, colorful language as he bombastically calls people to repent.
So, what is repentance? I think far too many of us think repentance means simply saying you are sorry, and you will never do it – whatever “it” is – again. However, when we look at scripture, the Greek word for repentance is metanoia, a word that refers to far more than simply being or saying one is sorry for past sins. It is far more than mere regret or remorse for such sins. While that is in part what repentance means, the heart of the word refers to a turning away from the past way of life, a turning around, and turning to the inauguration of a new one. It literally means, “If you’re on the wrong road, turn around and go the other way!”
An even better understanding of repentance comes from theologian, Richard Jensen. His is truly a very Lutheran understanding when he describes repentance as it relates to baptism. And, by the way, baptism is something that John the Baptist is doing as he calls people to repent. Jensen writes:
The daily baptismal experience has many names. It may be called repentance. Unfortunately, repentance is often understood as an "I can" experience. "I am sorry for my sins. I can do better. I can please you, God." So often we interpret repentance as our way of turning to God. That cannot be. Christianity is not about an individual turning to God. Christianity is about God turning to us.
In repenting, therefore, we ask the God who has [already] turned towards us, buried us in baptism and raised us to new life, to continue his work of putting us to death. Repentance is an "I can't" experience. To repent is to volunteer for death. Repentance asks that the "death of self" which God began to work in us in baptism continue to this day. The repentant person comes before God saying, "I can't do it myself, God. Kill me and give me new life. You buried me in baptism. Bury me again today. Raise me to a new life." That is the language of repentance. Repentance is a daily experience that renews our baptism. [Touched by the Sprit, p. 49]
I would add that we should note the command to, “Repent,” as we find it in today’s reading, is in present tense. This denotes continual or repeated actions: "Keep on repenting!" "Continually be repentant!" It isn't like a door we pass through once that gets us into the kingdom. Repentance is meant to be the ongoing lifestyle of God’s children. And, repentance and its seal in baptism signal another theme to be sounded repeatedly in Matthew: God's power is present, but it is not unrelated to what we do and how we live. One thing is clear for Matthew, God's power calls for and enables a transformed new life of discipleship. Repentance then directs our vision not so much to sorrow for the past, but to the promise of a new beginning. The promise is that, because God's reign, God’s kingdom, is so near, it has the power to bring about this new orientation of life.
And what is this new orientation? Well, it is Gods’ vision for this world, God’s deep desire for peace and equity for all. It is that dream of God we talked about last week. It is what we find in Isaiah’s vision in our first reading today, Isaiah’s hope-filled vision for all of creation. In Isaiah, we are given images of God’s dream for this world – images of righteousness, of equity, of peace, of the cessation of harm, the end of war, and the unity of all nations under the rule of God. As people who live into the reign of God, that is people who live into the presence and power of God, we live into a world where God’s reign, God’s kingdom, is so near it has the power to bring about this new orientation of life.
I find it interesting that dreams, especially hope-filled dreams, have a way of shaping what it is we are enabled to see. Theologian, James Boyce, suggests, “Hope-filled dreams are like lenses that train us to interpret and to act in the present. Each generation learns to dream the visions that are taught by those who have dreamed before and by those who are able to keep dreaming in the present. To borrow a metaphor, every Christian needs to have a ‘hope chest.’” For Christians, our hope chest holds this vision of God’s dream for the world. And, so we dream not just about what is, but about what it might be if God's reign is indeed drawing near. God invites us to dream something beyond what we can presently see. We are invited to dream God’s dream about a different world where there is no predator or prey, no fear or hatred. And, this is the dream that sets our course as we live into the reign of God, as we live into the presence and power of what God is already doing in this world.
So, on this second Sunday of Advent as we prepare our hearts to make room for Christ’s arrival, I encourage you to turn around, turn toward God who has already turned toward you, and live into God’s dream for the world. I think we will again be surprised at what God is up to. We will again be surprised that the God of the universe was willing to enter our very lives and our history and take on our vulnerability in order to give us hope. The God we know in Jesus comes down to us, to take on our lot and our life and give us hope by being with us and for us. And, this God who comes down to pitch a tent among us in the person of Jesus, is inviting us to live God’s dream, helping us to see in the face of our neighbor, not a competitor for scarce resources, not an enemy, not a person to fear, but a brother or sister in Christ. (David Lose)
Yes, today, John the Baptist is the preacher standing in the wings, prompting us and giving us our lost lines. He is there pointing beyond himself to God, telling us the advent of a new age is upon us. He is telling us that, in the person of Jesus, God is guiding us as we move through the wilderness of life and live into God’s kingdom of hope and love.
This is a special musical performance of Creation Will Be at Peace by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir of Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
Yes, today marks the first Sunday of a new church year and the first Sunday in Advent. Today, we begin a time of waiting. Waiting is something all of us experience. In many ways, one could say our whole life is spent waiting. We wait for all kinds of things. Information puts us on hold as we wait on the phone while our ears are pumped with thin, irritating music. Our order hasn't come yet and we are hungry. Certain circumstances cause us to ask questions like: Will the rain or snow ever stop? When will the paint finally dry? Will anyone ever understand? Will I ever change? Our kids ask, “How long is it until we get there?” or “How many days until Christmas?” Life is simply a series of hopes, waiting, and only partial fulfillments. Quite honestly, the human condition does seem to be a state of living with constantly unsatisfied desire as we wait for something that is truly fulfilling. Advent invites us to understand with a new patience that condition, that very difficult state of being. Advent means coming, and so we wait for God’s coming. We wait as we prepare for God’s greatest event. And, as we begin this time of waiting, the first words given to us are from the prophet Isaiah.
Isaiah’s world was a chaotic, unjust, broken, hurting, warring world. Israel was a storm-tossed nation that was threatened by the powerful Assyrians to the north and east and menaced by the Egyptians to the south and west. The king and his advisors were occupied with what they needed to do to protect themselves. Events were out of control and fear was running rampant. The people were waiting for God to reveal a word concerning their situation. And, into that turmoil and storm-tossed world a voice stood out, the voice of Isaiah. Through the prophet Isaiah, God did speak and does speak. The prophet Isaiah speaks of seeing a reality that is deeper than the reality the people were living. He proclaims God’s vision for the world, holding up a vision of God’s future, the One to whom the future belongs. He proclaims:
“Look! Focus your eyes upon the mountain of the house of the Lord…For it shall rise up and be established as the highest of the mountains…And people of all races will come and say: ‘Come, let’s climb God’s Mountain, go to the House of the God of Jacob. He’ll show us the way he works so we can live the way we’re made.’ God’s message comes from Jerusalem. God will settle things fairly between nations. God will make things right between many peoples so that they will turn their swords into shovels, their spears into hoes. No more will nation fight nations; they won’t play war anymore. Come, let’s live in the light of God.” (The Message)
Into that chaotic, warring world, Isaiah speaks a word of hope and a word of peace. Centered on God’s dream for the world, Isaiah’s vision involves more than a geographical location: it is a place of light and truth, of justice and judgment, where God’s supreme power and authority are honored and enacted. It is a vision place, a place of no more war. Biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann, has compared these words from Isaiah to the “I have a dream” speech from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Like Dr. King, Isaiah provided words of hope and peace as the people waited for that future God promised, a future that was very different from what was visible to them at the present moment.
We are living in a chaotic, unjust, broken, hurting, warring world. World leaders and their advisors are occupied with what they need to do to protect themselves. Events sometimes seem out of control and fear is running rampant in many places within our culture. And, into this turmoil and storm-tossed world a voice stands out, the voice of Isaiah. On this first Sunday of Advent as we begin a new church year and this time of waiting, Isaiah speaks and promises us a time when God’s ways will fully shape how all of us live. Every single person – “all nations….all peoples” will be streaming toward the bright light of peace, and there is enough, for all. It may not look like that right now, but Advent is about taking the long view of things and seeing where the arc of justice bends as we look to the future. And, as we wait for that time of God’s fulfillment, God invites us not just to imagine and dream but to make God’s dream a priority in our everyday lives, living into that dream. As people of faith, we live holding up a vision of God’s future for this world. We have been instructed in the Lord’s ways; now is the time to walk in them and take the Word of the Lord forth into the world – caring for the poor, working for peace, unity and enduring justice for all people, especially those most in need of restitution and hope. That is the work of the church.
Many of you probably remember Ruby Bridges, the little six-year old who was one of the first African American children to integrate the New Orleans public schools. If you remember her story, every morning the federal marshals would escort Ruby through the lines of angry parents hurling insults, racial slurs, and violent words. And then the same thing happened every afternoon when school got out. This went on for weeks and then months, until finally virtually every white family had withdrawn their children from the school. So, Ruby went to school all by herself for the better part of the semester. The situation caught the attention of Harvard child psychologist, Robert Coles. Coles decided to go to New Orleans where he interviewed and spent time with Ruby and her parents. He interviewed her teacher, asked how she thought Ruby could tolerate such continual adversity and abuse. Just listen to the verbatim from that teacher. She said:
I was standing in the classroom looking out the window. I saw Ruby coming down the street with the federal marshals on both sides of her. The crowd was there shouting as usual. A woman spat at Ruby, but missed. Ruby smiled at her. A man shook his fist at her. Ruby smiled. And then she walked up the steps, and she stopped and turned around and smiled one more time. You know what she told one of those marshals? She told him she prays for those people, the ones in that mob. She prays for them every night before going to sleep.
The interview prompted Coles to speak directly to Ruby about her prayers. "Yes," Ruby said, "I do pray for them." Coles asked, "Why? Why would you pray for people who are so mean to you and say such bad things about you?" Ruby answered, "Because Mama said I should." Coles pressed on with questions. Ruby said, "I go to church. I go to church every Sunday, and we're told to pray for people, even bad people. Mama says it's true. My minister says the same thing. 'We don't have to worry,' he says. He came to our house, and he say, 'God is watching over us.' He say, 'If I forgive the people and smile at them and pray for them, God will keep a good eye on everything and he'll protect us.'" Coles asked if she thought the minister was on the right track. "Oh, yes," Ruby said. And then in a way of explanation, "I'm sure God knows what is happening. God's got a lot to worry about, but there's bad trouble here. God can't help but notice. He may not do anything right now, but there will come a day, like they say in church, there will come a day. You can count on it. That's what they say in church."
Yes, there will come a day. You can count on it. That’s what the church says. Ruby Bridges lived that as a child. And, if Isaiah and Dr. King and Ruby Bridges could dream of peace and lift up that vision for us, we too can dream the dream of peace and re-arrange our individual lives and the life of our communities, large and small, to be peace-making communities of generosity, justice and joy. We can work to develop communities where people listen to each other, communities of self-examination, of acceptance, of welcome and hospitality, of change – even if that change is not easy or fast. Now, I know we can’t do this on our own, but God does make it possible and God’s grace enables us to accomplish so much more than we can even imagine.
Advent is about dreams and visions, the dream of God for this world, and how God’s dream comes true in flesh and blood, in a child born to us, Jesus, and in and through the Church, Christ’s body present to this broken, warring world. As we continue to wait for God’s coming in fullness, the promise of Advent is that what is coming is an unimaginable invasion, an invasion of holiness, an invasion of God in this world. So, stay awake, be alert and be ready. God is on the way. That is what Advent is all about. And, as we wait, we do so by living God’s dream for this world in this present moment. Come! It is time to live in the light of God!
This is a special musical presentation of Where Is the Savior? by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
Today, at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, MIchigan the new organ was dedicated to the congregation with amazing music and more.
Over the past few months, I have been thinking a great deal about leadership and the personal characteristics we look for and value in good leaders. Leadership is something many of us think about as we look to the future. In fact, as I have been struggling with the need for leadership on many levels within the life of the faith community, I realize how important it is for us to understand what leadership means in the life of the church. So, I find it very interesting that as we come to this last Sunday of the church year, that Sunday when we proclaim the reign of Christ as all in all, we receive scripture readings that force us to really grapple with what leadership looks like. On this day we are essentially confronted with the question, “What does it mean for us to name Christ as our leader? What can it mean for us to name Christ as our King?”
It is truly difficult for most Americans to understand living under royal rule. After all, our identity as a nation was borne out of the experience of breaking away from royal rule and kingship. When we think of a king, we tend to think of a ruler with authoritarian power. When we think of kings and powerful leaders, we think of those who oversee the work and bureaucracy of a nation. We think of one who is in charge, and we hope for a leader who is honest, has integrity, grants citizens a measure of security and affirms the values of the people. We look to leaders who promise a better tomorrow for all people. We tend to think of kings and rulers as people who hold positions of honor, people who are looked up to. When we picture a king, we think of looking up to one who has power, to one who has been exalted.
So, on this day, as we think about leadership, we look to Christ as our leader and ask what it means for us to name Christ as our king and Lord. Theologian, Robert Capon, in Hunting the Divine Fox, presents an interesting assessment of what American popular religion perceives Christ to be like, and I have to say it doesn't look much like Jesus. He writes:
. . . almost nobody resists the temptation to jazz up the humanity of Christ. The true paradigm of the ordinary American view of Jesus is Superman: "Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's Superman! Strange visitor from another planet, who came to earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American Way." If that isn't popular christology, I'll eat my hat. Jesus -- gentle, meek and mild, but with secret, souped-up, more-than‑human insides -- bumbles around for thirty-three years, nearly gets himself done in for good by the Kryptonite Kross, but at the last minute, struggles into the phone booth of the Empty Tomb, changes into his Easter suit and, with a single bound, leaps back up to the planet Heaven. It's got it all -- including, just so you shouldn't miss the lesson, kiddies: He never once touches Lois Lane.
You think that's funny? Don't laugh. The human race is, was and probably always will be deeply unwilling to accept a human messiah. We don't want to be saved in our humanity; we want to be fished out of it. We crucified Jesus, not because he was God, but because he blasphemed: He claimed to be God and then failed to come up to our standards for assessing the claim. It's not that we weren't looking for the Messiah; it's just that he wasn't what we were looking for. Our kind of Messiah [our kind of king] would come down from a cross. He would carry a folding phone booth in his back pocket. He wouldn't do a stupid thing like rising from the dead. He would do a smart thing like never dying.
Well, today we are given a picture of Christ the King, this one we call “Lord.” And, in the picture we are given, this King is not revealed to us by looking up, but by looking down. The royal face God reveals to us through the person of Jesus does not aspire to the heights of glory, power, wealth or fame. No, to see the kingship revealed in Jesus, the Christ, we must look down to the lowly life Jesus chose to walk.
So, what can it mean for us to name Christ as our King? On this day, the writer of Luke’s gospel gives us an answer as he completely shatters our perceptions of what a king or ruler should look like. Our gospel reading is one in which Jesus, our King, is being derided, mocked and taunted. Luke gives us the picture of one who has been falsely charged with fomenting rebellion against Rome. He gives us a picture of Jesus on the cross, insulted, mocked and killed. Today, we see Jesus, our King, as one who hangs there dying. And what is revealed in this passage is miserable, deeply moving and shocking. Quite frankly, we would prefer to hide our face rather than watch someone who is truly honorable be tortured, because even our compassion is not able to help this one who hangs there, this one we call “Lord.”
The last moments of Jesus’ life all seem to be in stark contrast to what is valued as great in our world, to what we think kingship and leadership look like. Jesus did not and does not come in power. In fact, he refuses to come in power but instead appears in wretched vulnerability. And, in doing so, he breaks a law, the law of death. He breaks this law by ushering in God’s law of love. You see, Jesus does not come vowing retribution even on those who crucify him. Instead, he comes offering forgiveness and suffering love. This Jesus does not come down off the cross to prove that he is a king with power. Instead, he remains on that instrument of torture, humiliated and representing all who suffer unjustly. And, this Jesus does not promise us a better tomorrow, but offers to redeem us today, right now in this present moment.
When talking about the redemption offered us today, theologian, David Lose, writes:
Jesus doesn’t tell the repentant criminal that someday in the future he will enter into God’s presence but instead says, “Today, you shall be with me in paradise.” Today, now, in this very moment. Christians have sometimes been accused of pining for a distant and better future and therefore sitting out the struggles and challenges of the day. But in these verses Jesus is focused on this very moment, promising that those who believe in him, those who see in his vulnerability the revelation of God’s [overwhelming] mercy and [abundant] grace, will be ushered into God’s presence immediately.
This King we see hanging on a cross rules by pouring out redemption, forgiveness and suffering love upon the entire world. As Jesus hangs on a cross, we see a King who does not lord his greatness over all others, but instead forgives enemies and offers redemption to criminals. And, in Jesus’ crucifixion and death, we discover that this leader, this King, is one who is numbered with the criminals. This leader is counted as one of the transgressors. This innocent One does not hang out with those in power but with the sinners, with criminals, with the weak and the vulnerable, living and dying in solidarity with all those the powerful despise. And, as this King is ruling from a cross, he calls us to follow his example by serving, forgiving and loving all those in our lives, loving all those we consider “other.”
So, what does it mean for us to name Christ as our King? Well, for any who call Jesus “Lord,” it means we are called to join God’s “insistent, consistent, and persistent solidarity with the weak, the oppressed, and the forgotten of this world. In short, the church of Jesus Christ reveals itself as faithful to its Lord only in so far as it stands with those who are most vulnerable.” (David Lose) Whatever our desire for strength and security happens to be, the leader to whom we look is the one who leaves behind all strength and power and status, emptying himself and taking the form of a servant (Phil 2:7) in order to redeem those who are weak, vulnerable and lost. And, guess what? That includes us! This one whom we call “Lord” is the one who redeems us today, forgives us always, showers and bathes us in suffering love, and sets us free to stand with those in need around us as we see in them the very presence of the God who always takes the side of the vulnerable. That is what leadership looks like.
This is a special musical presentation of Hosanna to the King by the Chancel Choir with special percussionists, Addie Thompson on drums and Rich Weingartner on tambourine at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
I graduated from seminary on May 21, 2011. During our last weeks of school leading to graduation day, my entire class was experiencing the typical anxieties and emotions that accompany the end of one’s senior year. We were facing final exams, we were completing final projects and papers, some of my colleagues were waiting for assignments to synods, some were already interviewing for future calls, and we were anticipating the many ways in which life would be different after May 21 when seminary would finally come to an end. And, throughout those last weeks of school, we continually saw these big billboards throughout the Columbus area, one of which was located near the seminary. On each of these billboards, one would find some version of the following message: The world is going to end on May 21, 2011. This message was being publicized throughout the area by a fundamentalist “false prophet” who, apparently having reflected upon the state of the world, including multiple wars, natural disasters and political chaos, found plenty of fodder for his apocalyptic prediction. Anyway, this false prophet was sure Jesus was going to be returning on May 21, 2011 and the world was going to end. He wanted everyone to be ready. So, this became the running joke throughout the entire seminary community – the world was going to end on graduation day!
Now, quite honestly, there are people in every generation who, when they look the state of the world, think they are reading certain signs and then proclaim the end of time is coming if not upon us. Yet, it is not clear that various forms of natural disaster and political chaos are in any way apocalyptic because only God knows the end of time. We do not! So, in today’s apocalyptic gospel reading, Jesus’ directions to the disciples concerning what they ought to do in times of chaos and destruction were quite challenging then and they are equally challenging for us today.
Biblical apocalyptic writings were not given to predict the end of time. They were given to help people stay faithful and live with a sense of courage, hope and comfort when times are extremely difficult. And, our gospel reading today suggests Jesus is preparing his disciples for a future that will likely become more difficult. The gospel of Luke was written decades after Jesus’ death. By that time, the Temple had already been destroyed. But the Word and witness of Jesus remained in the midst of chaotic and dangerous times. Luke reminds early Christians of the need to be ready, to remain faithful and to endure in the face of uncertainty, great risk and societal violence. As Luke’s Jesus speaks to them about the future and events to come, he describes three things saying, “Imposters will come and try to trick the faithful; war and conflict will rage on; and natural disasters will be prevalent.” Assuring the disciples that the end times are in the future and these things will not all happen at once, he then gives them this odd and perplexing advice which basically means, “This will give you an opportunity to testify, and your testimony must not be rehearsed or canned. Rely on the incontestable wisdom that will be given you in the moment. And the reward for your testimony and your endurance of these catastrophic events will be the gaining of your very souls.”
Now, I must say these words are daunting as Jesus seems to be communicating a message that says suffering becomes an opportunity for testimony. After all, when we testify to what God has done in our lives, we are usually giving praise to God for times that are good, thanking God when people are healed, thanking God for the things we consider blessings. And, in the Bible, we find people giving testimony describing how God has led them from slavery to freedom, how God has made a way when there was no way in sight, or how God has acted to save people in distress. Quite honestly, as we think about times of challenge, we do not often find ourselves giving testimony to God in the face of betrayal, great suffering, great hatred or even something as horrid as the execution of loved ones. Really, what kind of testimony does one give in such times?
Author, Shawn Copeland, writes, “Suffering always means pain, disruption, separation, and incompleteness. It can render us powerless and mute, push us to the borders of hopelessness and despair.” (Wading through Many Sorrows: Toward a Theology of Suffering in Womanist Perspective, p. 109)
Yes, suffering can push us to the boundaries of hopelessness and despair. Jesus knows this. You see, suffering does change people – some become defeated while others somehow muster the courage to face fear. And, suffering provides an opportunity for those who have been changed to really tell of their hope in the depth of the struggle they have endured. Such hope bears witness to the God who is deeply present in the depth of the struggle and suffering.
One example of such reliance on hope and God’s presence in the midst of great suffering and adversity is the testimony of Thomas Dorsey. Dorsey was the composer of the well-loved hymn, “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” and his remarkable testimony was born out of loss, grief and chaos. Born in Georgia in 1899, Dorsey was the son of a Baptist minister and he became a prolific African American songwriter and gospel and blues musician. As an adult, he moved to Chicago where he found work as a piano player in the churches, theaters and clubs. He struggled to support his family by somehow balancing his work between playing in clubs and churches. But, he ultimately devoted his work exclusively to the church.
In August of 1932, Dorsey left his pregnant wife in Chicago and traveled to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting in St. Louis. After the first night of the revival, Dorsey received a telegram that simply said, “Your wife just died.” Dorsey raced home and learned that his wife had given birth to their son before dying in childbirth. The next day his son died as well. Dorsey buried his wife and son in the same casket and withdrew in sorrow and agony from his family and friends. He refused to compose or play any music for quite some time.
While still in the depth of despair, Dorsey said that one day as he sat in front of a piano, a feeling of peace washed through him. The following words just came to Dorsey as he sat there:
Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand;
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light;
Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.
In the depth of his suffering, Dorsey’s words were honest testimony about his experience, yet words that communicated a trust and hope in the One who walks with us, even through the most difficult and chaotic times of life. These words came to him as gift and they became a testimony and gift to the world.
As we face various forms of natural disaster, political chaos, a deeply troubled world, and personal challenge, we can remember and trust that, no, this does not necessarily mean the world is coming to an end anytime soon. What we can trust is this: Jesus tells us God is always with us and gives us the strength to endure and remain faithful. We can remember that the words we speak in times of trial and challenge will come to us as gift. Christ possesses a wisdom our troubled world and his troubling opponents cannot calculate or even begin to comprehend. Christ will speak the Word of the kingdom through Christ’s church, of which we are a part. And, that Word is the creative and redeeming Word that created all things in the beginning and continues to create in its speaking as we allow God to work through us, the Body of Christ in this place.
This is a special musical performance of Praise My Soul, the King of Heaven by the Faith Bells at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
Today's sermon is based on Luke 20: 27-38 where Jesus is being tested and questioned by the Sadduccees. We explore how Jesus' trial is also our own as we grapple with the fact that we may not know all of the answers to the questions that we or others have.
This is a special musical presentation of My Lord What a Morning by soloist Bob Nelson at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical performance of Shall we Gather at the River by soloist Victoria Walker.
This is a special musical performance of City Called Heaven by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan with soloist Victoria Walker.
I have some mind-blowing, earth-shaking, breaking news for you today! On this day, cutting into the mix of all the drama that we are witnessing in our daily lives, Jesus has something to tell us as he lays before us THE major policy statement of his reign in the form of a powerful, prophetic, proclamatory address to his followers. And, his proclamation to us is rather bewildering as he again turns things upside down and drives home the topsy-turvy news regarding the order of things in God’s kingdom and rule.
On this All Saints Sunday, Jesus is speaking directly to us as he invites us into his holy venture to live out our faith. Jesus is not describing an ideological agenda or a political platform. He does not provide us with an abstract or empty definition of discipleship or sainthood. He is not listing for us qualifications describing some “how to” method to get into heaven. Jesus is describing a vision of God’s reign which he totally and completely embodies. What he is doing is calling all of us to become faithful and effective agents of God’s reign right here and right now. And, quite frankly, for those of us who live in middle class to upper class America, his words to us are so very, very challenging. The “rules of engagement” of Jesus’ reign stand in sharp contrast to the presumed rights of the prosperous as he talks about wealth, abundant food, the good stuff of life and all that we consider blessings. Jesus’ words and vision are simply at odds with the way things are in our lives and in the world. Jesus knows that we are possessed by our possessions and the so called “blessings” we feel we have and enjoy. He knows that our understanding of blessings goes something like this:
Yes, these aspects of life are what we tend to name as “blessings.” But, Jesus sees these as characteristics of the lost and proclaims woe to any of us who find ourselves looking at life in this way. By proclaiming woe to this way of life, Jesus announces the evil and injustice in our way of living and thinking. Jesus says the poor and the hungry are the ones who are blessed, for their fortunes are going to be reversed. He says, “Are you weeping? You are blessed because you will laugh. Do people hate, exclude, and revile you on account of the Son of Man? Jump for joy, for your reward is great in heaven; their grandparents hated and excluded the prophets too.” Jesus is saying God is not impressed with what we consider blessings. In fact, all that we consider “blessings” misrepresents his message. Oh, yes, Jesus is again turning this world, our thinking and even our conventional assumptions about religion upside down. Jesus blesses those who suffer, and he curses those whose wealth, comfort, and prestige are built upon this same suffering.
Now, quite honestly, as we live in the cushioned environment and comfortable bubble of our so called “blessings,” many of us would probably say, “I am not poor, but I identify with the poor,” or “I work with the poor,” or maybe even “I send money to the poor, I care about the poor. After all, I go and work at the soup kitchen every week.” We might even want to quibble about the definition of “poor,” or “hungry” or “weeping.” Surely, we the faithful, are among the blessed. So, if we are honest with ourselves, we need to ask, “If we are not the poor, the hungry, the weeping, or the excluded, what are we to hear from this so-called “good news” Jesus gives us today? Pastor Laura Sugg, when asking this question, suggests:
Luke’s Jesus is fulfilling God’s compassion for the oppressed. Jesus’ first words to people in Luke’s Gospel repeat the words from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” (4:18a) Throughout Luke’s Gospel, Jesus lives this out by talking with those on the margins, challenging the status quo, and convicting those who feel certain they are righteous. (Feasting on the Word, p. 240.)
The kingdom of God that Jesus embodies is not some abstract theological term about a time and place the world has never known. Jesus is calling each one of us to be faithful agents of God’s reign right here and right now. God’s kingdom, God’s reign, breaks through when we love our enemies. It takes hold when we do good to those who hate us. It comes alive when we bless those who curse us. It shines brightly when we pray for those who abuse or mistreat us. It shows up when we honor the request of the beggars. And when we live our lives by the principle of “do unto others as you would have them do to you,” loving as God calls us to love, we truly live out our citizenship in God’s kingdom and bear witness to God’s reign.
I must say, living this kind of life is not easy. In fact, it is very difficult. It means we must become vulnerable and that is a condition most of us would rather avoid. But, Jesus is always unsettling us and, as he tells us that the order of things in God’s rule is reversed, we discover that life with God means knowing what poverty and hunger and sorrow and being cursed look like. It means knowing how it feels to be overlooked and discounted. It means knowing what it is like to be hated. And, it means allowing ourselves to become vulnerable, living in solidarity with all others, and admitting our total dependence upon God.
As we hear Jesus’ words to us on this All Saints Sunday, perhaps the best good news we are given is the fact that what Jesus is describing is all about God, and not us. That is what truly gives us hope. Jesus’ words are ultimately descriptive of God’s kingdom and not prescriptive of what we need to try to do and be more of because the fact of the matter is that no matter how hard we try, we simply cannot become more saintly. No matter what we do, we simply cannot become more deserving of God’s grace. The reality is that we are all losers, and God passionately loves losers. We all are dust and to dust we shall return. And, thanks be to God that our God is one who is always present in the places where we don’t think God hangs out – with the wretched, the despairing, the wanting, the wasted and, yes, the losers. There is nothing that any one of us can do on our own accord that makes us holy. It is only through Jesus that we are made holy.
On this All Saints Sunday the good news is that we are all both saint and sinner. We are not called saints because we are without sin or have become saintly through works. No, with all our works and by ourselves, we are nothing but condemned sinners. But, we have been made holy through a foreign holiness, namely, through that of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has made us holy by faith, a faith that even in itself is all gift.
On this All Saints Sunday, amid all the drama that is taking place within the world, within our culture and within our country, the good news is found in Jesus’ powerful, prophetic, and proclamatory words to us today. God is the one who is ultimately in charge. Jesus is describing the order of things in God’s kingdom and rule, and describing God’s love affair for humanity, for this whole broken, messed up world full of messed up people – a world that includes a messed up you and a messed up me. Jesus is giving a word that tells us, “You are loved, you are accepted as you are, I am with you in the mess, and I have made you my own.” So, as we sing the songs of the saints of God, we sing knowing that by the Spirit of the living Christ, we get to be saints too!
This is a special musical performance of Find us Faithful by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan
It seems that we are daily bombarded with news about issues that pertain to truth and freedom. In fact, questions regarding truth-telling and freedom are at the center of debates surrounding voting rights, freedom of speech, gun laws, racism, immigration and a whole plethora of other issues. Well, today, Jesus is speaking to us about truth and freedom. However, Jesus’ words regarding truth and freedom could not be more different from the way these concepts are discussed in our present culture.
Today’s passage from John takes place within the context of a dialogue between Jesus and his opponents. Jesus’ opponents are trapped in their sin, trapped in a dead-end life, and they do not believe in him. They do not believe Jesus is the new revelation of God, the truth. The focus of the dialogue is all about Jesus’ identity, it is all about who Jesus is. And, it is a dialogue of faith that centers around two words – truth and freedom. Jesus says, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” The truth Jesus is talking about is himself. This truth is not just some concept; it is not an abstract idea and it is not the opposite of falsehood. This truth is a real, living person – the person of Jesus, himself, the person who reveals to us the deepest truth of what God is like, the truth that God is a God of love. And, to connect to Jesus and live in his truth is to be set free from unfaith and set free to love others as God loves us.
Today, we are celebrating the Reformation, a change that took place within the church when Martin Luther discovered something about the truth of Jesus over 500 years ago. Throughout his life, Martin Luther struggled and participated in this dialogue of faith. Luther was a man who knew intense inner struggle. He was tormented because of his own sinfulness. He was a man who knew the depths of depression. Then, one day as he was studying today’s reading from Romans, he made a discovery that changed not only his life, but also the life of the church and, ultimately, our understanding of the gospel. Luther heard the following words as if for the first time and they transformed his entire being. Listen again to these words. ““For there is NO distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift!” Did you hear those words? Justified by his grace AS GIFT! And, who receives that gift? The writer of Romans says, “There is NO distinction – ALL have sinned, and ALL ARE JUSTIFIED BY HIS GRACE AS GIFT!” The Gospel is quite clear. ALL receive the gift! When Martin Luther read those words and truly heard what they were saying, he became a new person.
It was when Luther made this great discovery about justification by God’s grace as gift that he finally began to understand the truth of Jesus’ identity. He understood that Jesus is the truth, and Jesus reveals to us the truth about God. Luther knew his own captivity to sin, and he was very aware of the church’s captivity to sin. Luther also knew he was not able to free himself from bondage to sin. His freedom could only come through Christ. I have shared this with you before, but I will share it with you again. This understanding changed him so deeply that he changed his very name from Ludher to Luther, giving himself a name that meant “the free one.”
Martin Luther found himself so deeply altered by this new understanding of truth and freedom that he wanted the church to grasp the reality of the message. So, he nailed 95 theses to the Wittenberg church door describing changes he hoped to see within the Catholic Church. His action then spurred a greater dialogue of faith that exploded in the Reformation – an explosion born out of struggle, a deep struggle that transformed and continues to transform and reform the church, even to this day. In fact, as ELCA Lutherans, we claim an identity in which we are always being transformed, changed and made new.
Becoming truly free is never easy. Luther found out that grace and truth are not cheap. Knowing the truth of Jesus and living in that truth always means facing the cross. And, the cross always means death, death to self, death to systems, death to ideologies, and even death to religious practices when they are not faithful to the Word.
When we face the truth, we ultimately must look at ourselves. We cannot become free from the chains that bind us unless we can honestly face all that holds us in bondage and unless we die to self.
There are all sorts of ways we live in bondage. Not one of us is totally free. We live in bondage to addictions, to competition, to work, to consumerism, to ideologies, to fear, to anxiety, to any number of things in life. And, quite often the things that hold us captive become a way of running from our fears and running from the pain of life. I know. I have spent most of my life living in captivity to work. I also know my workaholic nature has been a way of running from my own pain.
Friends, the One truth that will set us free from all our fears of living and of dying has eluded most people. The One truth, which liberated Luther, and which liberates all who believe it, is the truth of Jesus as he tells us God loves us and bathes us in grace and mercy. And, quite frankly, this ultimate and awesome reality doesn't keep us from the fires and trials of our life journey; rather, it strengthens and carries us safely through and beyond them. That is what Luther experienced and that is what we experience. The good news for you and for me is that when we consciously realize that we stand in the presence of God and are embraced by the gracious loving arms of Jesus, we become able to face the cross. And, when we continue in the Word and become faithful disciples, only then are we able to live into the freedom of the Son.
The Reformation that began with Martin Luther is a Reformation that is ongoing. Yes, we claim that we are a reforming church. We are continually reforming. God continually calls each of us to change, to be transformed and become new beings. God continually calls the church to participate in a dialogue of faith, a dialogue that is often struggle. God is continually calling the church to engage in the process of reformation as we live into the in-breaking, coming reign of God.
Yes, we are daily bombarded with words about truth and freedom. However, on this Reformation Sunday, the good news that is before us is about a truth and freedom that are of ultimate concern, a truth and freedom that will change your life. Jesus is saying to each of us, “[Come, let go of your issues and get to know me. Live in my love and live in my Word.] If you stick with this, living out what I tell you, you are my disciples for sure. Then you will experience for yourselves the truth, and the truth will free you….[because] if the Son sets you free, you are free through and through.” (The Message)
This is a special musical presentation of I Lift Up Mine Eyes by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.