Your Faith Journey - Finding God Through Words, Song and Praise

This is a special musical presentation of Leaning on the Everlasting Arms by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

"Honesty and love"…foundational words that came to me during my junior year in college in 1963 and '64. Years marked by JFK's assassination… by George Wallace declaring "segregation forever"… by the reawakening of the women's movement (Betty Friedan)…by MLK's arrest in Birmingham –"Parading without a permit"… by the cruel tactics of Bull Connor… by the Supreme Court ruled that state mandated Bible reading in schools was unconstitutional….by an attack on American journalists in South Vietnam…by our entrance into the war in Viet Nam after North Vietnamese torpedo boats attacked a US destroyer ship in the Gulf of Tonkin… by MLK's "I have a dream" speech and his letter from the Birmingham Jail, by the bombing at 16th St. Baptist Church in Birmingham killing four young children, by a mock election to protest systematic disenfranchisement of blacks in Mississippi, by the killing Lee Harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby, …by Nelson Mandela sentenced to life in prison….by President Johnson signing the Civil Rights Act. A tumultuous both deeply troubling and hope-filled time in so many ways, affecting so many lives…

"Honesty and love"… One day in my sophomore year while working in the chemistry lab (pursuing a major in chemistry), it came to me that this was not to be my profession. My grades were fine, though calculus was a struggle. But my really difficult, deeper struggle was about discerning what God was calling me to be and do with my life. My father, grandfather, and great grandfather were all pastors. I was determined not just to follow in their footsteps.

This past week my brother, Jim, and I drove to Dubuque, Iowa to visit folks at Wartburg Seminary where my dad, grandpa, and great grandpa had all studied to become pastors. Jim and I, together with Phylis and Jim's wife, Livvy, were supporting a new program intended to equip men and women especially in Latinx faith communities to become pastors through study and practice in their home place, honoring each person's learning pace and style (rather than having to move themselves and their families to the seminary, to try to conform to a more traditional educational model). We've been giving gifts for this new initiative to honor the memory of our forebears who set high bars for commitment and diligence and often, creativity in their ministries. We wanted to see how this new way of forming leaders for the mission of the church was progressing.

At 20+ years old in those early '60's, I couldn't see myself measuring up to the gifts and contributions of my forebears. But now realizing that being a chemist was probably not the best path for my future, I started to pray: Okay, God, I haven't experienced a clear call from you to follow in my family's footsteps, but [in the words of the anthem the choir sang last Sunday] I'll take "one step" toward becoming a pastor. I'll continue to pursue a degree in chemistry (just in case) but also take classes like Greek and world religions to prepare for seminary. At least bless me, God, by clearly closing the door to this path if this is not what you want for me to be and do.

And now some 60 years later, while more than once I have struggled with doubts and feelings of inadequacy for this calling, I realize that God never shut the door. To paraphrase the words of the psalmist, God heard me. God did not reject my prayer. God did not withhold unfailing love for me. God did not leave me alone. And in the language of the Gospel, Jesus did not leave me orphaned. I was never not God's child, never not a member of God's family, never not with Jesus and the Holy Spirit at my side

Surely the times we live in now are no less tumultuous than in 1963. All I knew then and more fully know now was that, is that, honesty and love are all that matters. Now I can say more confidently from whence that honesty and love comes. Jesus said, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth [honesty]…I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you…because I live, you also will live."

This is the gospel, the good news I proclaim to you this morning. In what ever ways you struggle, in what ever ways you worry about what's happening in our world, however befuddled and discouraged you may be by the plethora of lies and hate, Jesus, risen from the dead, asks only that we love him and that we love one another. Jesus, risen from the dead, promises to plant in our hearts the Spirit of truth. Through this Holy Spirit Jesus will never not walk with us, never not stand up with us and for us.

Then, living lives of God-given honesty and love, whether as a chemist or a pastor, a teacher or a line worker, whether single or married, whether working full time or semi-retired, whether a mother or father, daughter or son, we can live boldly and humbly and reverently and gently and graciously in this world too often filled with broken promises, with fear, harshness and ill will.

For to us, through Jesus' suffering and death and resurrection, is given the Spirit of truth and of love. One day we will all be judged by this One who died for us, who daily forgives all our sins, forgives all our deceptions, forgives all our failures to love as we ought. We will be judged by the One who raises us up every day to try again to be honest and loving. On that day that One who judges us will also stand with us and for us. This judge is the One who heard our cries, listened to our prayers, and never, never stopped loving us.

Amen.

This is a special musical presentation of There Is a Redeemer by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

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

If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

This bold, seemingly audacious promise of Jesus is given to his disciples and to the infant church in the first century and even now to us who would follow him in this 21st century. "If in my name…"

If we are troubled in mind or heart, we need only ask Jesus for comfort and he will give it. If we are overcome by shame or self-loathing, we need only ask Jesus for the assurance that we are beautiful in his sight and he will give it.

If we have nightmares of being lost and alone as I often do, we need only to ask Jesus to walk with us and he will do it… It is in his name, in his nature to save us from falsehoods, from dead ends, from paths that lead nowhere. Our risen Lord is with us on this fifth Sunday of Easter, this first Sunday after we said "goodbye" to Pastor Ellen. If only we ask in his name, he is right here, right now, holding our hands, gently but firmly, assuring us that all will be well.

I talked yesterday morning with the son of a good friend who shared with me that his father was near death. In the course of the conversation I asked him if he had a sense, even palpably, that Christ was with him and his family in this difficult moment. His response was to me profound: "Jesus has been there most clearly in the way my brother and my mother and I have been there to lift each other up when any one of us was exhausted or very down."

I thought about how it is here at Faith, about the way we are with each other when we grieve or are anxious. I think about Jesus' words: I am the way, and the truth, and the life… The risen Lord Jesus is palpably with us when his great love for us and in us is expressed in our doing our best to listen carefully to each other and maybe, at some level of consciousness, asking the Holy Spirit to guide and prompt us to be as fully present as possible in those moments when another troubled soul shares something of their heart with us, whether in spoken words or in body language.

Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." Probably too often those words of Jesus are used to pronounce condemnation on those who do not believe in Jesus as their Lord and Savior…Like our Muslim sisters and brothers who dined and visited with us Friday evening. Those words can be used to coerce people to make that confession of faith in the triune God out of fear of damnation, of going to hell.

But that is to miss the whole point of what Jesus said and to whom he said it. It was spoken to his disciples who would soon lose their wonderful leader to an ugly, shameful death on the cross. Jesus spoke these words to people whose dreams of a wonderful, messianic kingdom led by Jesus were already shattering when he shared with them that he would soon be condemned, suffer and die. It is spoken to us whenever our hopes and dreams have been or, we fear, are about to be shattered.

But knowing their fears and their grief at the impending loss of their friend, Jesus said to his disciples, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house….I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going." As Pastor Ellen taught us in a recent sermon, Thomas, the one we tend to denigrate because of his doubts, is the brave one, brave enough to be totally honest: "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" And to him, and to us who would be his disciples: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

These words are not meant to be a weapon to frighten or convince people to become Christians. They are meant to assure us that when we are baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, when day after day the Holy Spirit kindles within us even a flicker of faith in God, Jesus thereby claims us as his own. Whenever life goes horribly wrong, when we get the s___ kicked out of us, whenever we feel lost or confused or desolate, exactly in those hard, scary moments, Jesus takes us by the hand and gently leads us to his Father's house.

Of course this is picture language. It is Jesus' frequent way of helping us to see that there will always be room for us, always a place for us, a safe place where he will always patiently hear our cries, always understand us, always comfort us, and, I think importantly, always challenge us, always invite us to do wonderful work for him.

After the Friday evening dinner and presentations by the iman and myself, and the thoughtful questions we were asked, a young man came up to me with one more question. Coming from India, he told me there were many religions and many gods. It was not uncommon, he said, for various people to pronounce themselves to be god. So, he asked me, "How do you know what is true? How do you define or describe God? Really good questions. I shared with him what Martin Luther once said: Your god is whatever or whomever you ultimately trust.

After I said this, I was thinking, one's God could be one's investments, one's hard work, one's intelligence, one's friendships, one's influence on or over others. But it was clear to me, especially as I was thinking about this sermon, that for me it was Jesus. For me he is the way, the truth, and the life. He alone together with the Father and the Holy Spirit is worthy of my ultimate trust. I didn't try to convince my new Muslim friend of this. But I do think Jesus was in our conversation, in the way we talked to each other, in the honesty we shared, in our understandings of what matters, what life is all about.

Often this Gospel text is read and preached at funerals. I have done so many times. We think of the Father's house in heaven where there are many dwelling places ["many mansions"] Jesus has prepared for us after we die. But I think this text is just as much about life here on earth. Because Jesus went away for awhile, temporarily leaving his disciples; because Jesus left us all for awhile, dying on the cross, he thereby took away and into his body all of our sins, all of our broken relationships, all of our failures to be merciful and compassionate. Then on the third day Jesus rose from death to take us to a safe place, to sit with us and listen to our sorrows, to take our hands and lead us on his way through the pain and darkness of this life to a place with enough light and insight and truth and courage to live each day by faith, to live each day by grace, to live each day in a growing love for and with God and for and with each other.

I don't know this morning if my good friend has already died and is now face to face with Jesus. I do know that, in the words of his son, Jesus was, for him and his family, the very present way and truth and life with a loving God, with a loving Father.

"If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it." Jesus, sit by us today, walk with us today, listen to us today, then lead us this very day to do whatever will make this world a little less anxious, a little more honest, and most of all, a lot more in love with you.

Amen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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