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!