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

This is the recording of the Good Friday service on August 15, 2022 at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

On this Maundy Thursday, listen and reflect as we prepare for Jesus' death and resurrection. 

Today, join us for Palm Sunday service as we prepare for Easter. 

This is a special musical performance of Lenten Love Song by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir.

…Beyond the sacred page, I seek you Lord; my spirit waits for you, O living Word.  ELW 515

 I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19

A Way in the Wilderness

It is hard to get out of my mind the pictures of crushed and burned out apartment buildings in Mariupol, Ukraine ...or the bodies, both Ukrainian and Russian, lying in the streets or on the roads of that war-torn country.   In this fifth week of the Russian invasion, it is hard for me to see how this beleaguered nation could soon, if ever, be restored….so many people dying, so many hungry and thirsty and cold and homeless.   

All I have, all we have, is faith in a faithful God who will abandon neither the Ukrainian nor the Russian people, whether in life or death, whether in victory or defeat.  Only faith in a faithful God can see God, can see Jesus, can see the Holy Spirit at work in the trouble minds, frightened souls, bitter and hardened hearts of the people and the leaders of both countries.

All we have, all we are given is trust in a God who suffers and dies and rises again for all the nations of the world, for all, humans and animals alike:

I will make a way in the wilderness.  The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise…

A way in the wilderness, created anew in us each day, enables us to see beyond the present darkness both in our country and abroad, enables us to give generously of ourselves, of our time, of our financial resources to alleviate some of the spiritual, emotional, and physical suffering in our own homes and communities and in countries like Ukraine and Russia.

I am about to do a new thing… Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, has been resuscitated and in overwhelming gratitude this family puts on a dinner for Jesus.  God in Jesus has brought a dead person back to life, made a way through the wilderness and the barrenness of death.

 I am about to do a new thing

Mary anoints Jesus’ feet with costly nard valued at 300 denarii, equivalent to a year’s wages.  Mary wipes his feet with her hair. an extravagant, “over the top,” expression of love.  But, as we often find in John’s gospel, acts like this have a double, deeper meaning:  nard was used in the preparation of a body for burial.  Mary’s radical act of love is not only in gratitude for bringing her brother back to life but also given in anticipation of Jesus’ death.   In Mary’s heart God is surely doing a new thing.

Thus Mary’s act of love is a sign of what Jesus would do not only for Lazarus but for the whole world.  Jesus would soon suffer and die for the people of Ukraine and Russia.  Jesus would suffer and die for us in this room and for those worshiping with us online.  And on the third day Jesus would rise from death so that all people, all of creation, could also rise from death, all could be delivered from all the fearsome forces and faults of life that would separate us from joy and peace with God and with each other.  In and through Jesus’ suffering and death and resurrection God was doing a new thing, a new thing that would transform the wilderness of our earthly journey,  the dangerous but necessary journey for all who would come to know and trust in the life-giving power of this ever gracious, ever watchful, ever forgiving God.     

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert…

St. Paul was forever changed by his encounter with the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. [Acts 9]  Before this encounter, Paul (Saul) lived an exemplary life of scrupulous adherence to the law of Moses.  In his own words, he was “as to righteousness under the law, blameless.”  He prided himself on his zeal for keeping the letter of the law, which also meant harsh judgment and persecution of those who broke the law as he understood it.  In his understanding the Christian movement, the church, was clearly heretical, false, and blasphemous.  Clearly it needed to be purged from society, violently if necessary… [cf. Acts 7-8:1]

But when Jesus appeared to him, asking “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” his life was changed forever.  In the Second Reading for today Paul writes, “Whatever gains I had [in my former life], these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ...I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” 

What happened to Paul was a whole new understanding of the new thing God was doing in Christ Jesus.  In Jesus’ life and suffering and death and resurrection, God’s law had been fulfilled.  Now what mattered above all was to believe in, to trust in what the Lord Jesus had done for him and for the whole world.  His righteousness was not his own by striving to keep the law but rather the righteousness of God imparted to him and experienced by him through trust, through faith in Christ.  Now what mattered, all that mattered, is that he, a daily forgiven sinner, strove to live by the law of love and compassion, love for God, love and kindness for all, all for whom Jesus had died.  For Paul that meant in every way possible, with as many people as possible, to declare the new thing God had done for them in Christ.  

Once, many hundreds of years ago, God had set free God’s children from slavery in Egypt through what we call the exodus.  Many years later, when God’s children had been forcefully taken from their homeland, living for some 70 years as exiles in Babylon, Isaiah declared that the Lord would again deliver them, would make a way for them through the wilderness.  They would be chosen anew to be bearers of praise for God’s faithfulness and blessings and promises of deliverance for the whole world.  This would be a new thing, a new exodus.

And now in Christ, yet another exodus has been given to us. Through faith in Christ, through the faithfulness of Christ, all of can be set free from our bondage to sin and death and the power of the Evil One.  Now, in the wilderness of our lives, in our damaged and broken world, in the devastation of warfare in Ukraine, in the destruction caused by cyclones and years-long droughts in nations like Madagascar, in the worldwide spread of diseases like the Omicron BA-2 variant, the Lord is about to do a new thing.  Through acts of extravagant generosity like Mary did in gratitude for what Jesus had done for her brother and for her family, and for what Jesus would do for all people through his death on the cross, we too can, with thankful hearts, show the world that God is about to do a new thing, making a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert, giving the water of life for all God’s children.

This is a special musical performance of Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical presentation of Jesus Walked this Lonesome Valley/ Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen by the Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos Michigan Chancel Choir.

In today’s gospel reading, we get yet another example of the reversal of expectations in God’s kingdom. Today, Jesus speaks to us about getting lost and, of all the parables Jesus preached, the story of the Prodigal Son is perhaps the most profound. Today’s story tells of a father who had two sons.  In this parable, the younger son asks for his share of his father's estate.  He comes to his father and says, "Father, divide the inheritance between me and my brother and give it to me now."  In effect, he is saying, "Dear Dad, drop dead now, legally speaking.”  As a parent, when I look at what the youngest son is demanding, I can imagine there is something within his father that dies when hearing this.  Anyway, the youngest son gets the money, and the older brother gets the farm and the family business.  The younger brother goes off exploring the world and ends up spending all his inheritance on wild, thrill-seeking living.  He ultimately ends up in want, working a job where he is slopping hogs for a farmer.  Now it is important to remember that pigs were an abomination to the Jews and people who cared for swine were cursed.  So, in this story, we are given a picture of a young man who is hungry, destitute, and cursed as he is sitting in the filth of a pigsty while envying the very slop he gives the pigs. All his resources have been depleted and he reaches the point where he must face his mistakes and failures. It is in that place that he has a revelation.  For this wayward son, that filthy pigsty, that ditch of life, becomes a place of revelation!   

When he finally comes to his senses he says, "This is crazy.   How many hired servants does my father have who all have bread enough to spare and I'm perishing here with hunger? I know what I'm going to do."  So, he develops yet one more scheme for his life.  He decides he will go to his father and say, “Father, I've sinned against heaven and before you.  And I'm no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me one of your hired servants."  He knows he has been as dead in the eyes of his father, and he doubts he can ever again go back and live as a son.  Therefore, he tells himself, "I will now go back and work to earn my father's favor again. I will be a good servant and do whatever is possible."  

What happens next is that, from a distance, the father sees the son returning.  Luke writes that while the younger son "was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him."  Did you notice the father never says a single word to the younger son?  The father’s actions tell the whole story by his physical welcome and embrace. His actions alone say, "I have found my son."  And did you notice that the son never even gets a word out of his mouth until after his father’s embrace. What a testimony to the Father’s love. The son’s confession is not a pre-condition of forgiveness.  His confession comes after he discovers he has already been forgiven. Confession is not something we do to get forgiveness.  The truth is we have already been forgiven.  The act of confession is something we do to celebrate the forgiveness we have already received.  You see, there is nothing we can do to earn forgiveness.   When we know how much we have been forgiven, we want to turn back to God. This is truly a reversal of our assumptions and our expectations.

Well, what happens next is also astounding.  The father, saying not a word to the son, turns to the servants and says, "Bring the best robe, bring a ring for his finger and shoes for his feet, kill the fatted calf and let us eat and be merry for this, my son, was dead and is alive again. He was lost and is found."  This son, the seemingly good for nothing son, is home. He has been raised from the dead by his father's embrace. He has done nothing to earn it, and all that matters is that the father has called for a party to celebrate the finding of the lost.

Yes, it is the father's will to have a party!  Everything is fine and the celebration is in full swing.  However, now the older brother re-enters the story.  He comes up, hears the music and the dancing, sees the wait staff serving platters of food and fine wine, and asks one of the servants, "What is this all about?  I didn't plan a party." The servant says, "No, no, your brother has come home, and your father has killed the fatted calf because your brother is back, safe and sound."  Then, oh my, this older brother is so like us. He is focused on achievement, merit, and reward, and he gets angry and refuses to go into the house.  He will not join the party. Instead, he gets out his score card.  He says to his father, "Look, all these years I served you. I never broke one of your commandments and you never even gave me a goat that I might have a party with my friends. But when this, your son” - notice he doesn't say, this my brother - he says, “when this, your son, cuts off his relationship, this your son who has wasted his inheritance with riotous living, wasted all you gave him with prostitutes, when this son comes home, you kill the fatted calf and throw a party!" The father then responds, saying, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

This is a stunning story of reversal regarding our expectations of what God is like. You see, God is always with the lost. There is no point at which God will ever stop following and pursuing us.  God will always seek the lost.  The reversal theme in Luke’s gospel is all about a God who lavishly showers us with forgiveness and grace and will never give up on anyone. And this God will always shatter our expectations because Jesus turns a spirituality of climbing, achieving, and perfection – as with the older son – upside down. The one who has done wrong and is humbled about it is the one who is forgiven, transformed, lifted up, and rewarded. Those who are proud of how they have done everything right, but also feel superior to others or feel they are now entitled, are not open to God’s blessing.  When commenting on this story, Richard Rohr writes:

This is Jesus’ Great Reversal theme. He turns religion itself on its head. We thought we came to God by doing it right, and lo and behold, surprise of surprises, we come to God by doing it wrong—and growing because of it! The only things strong enough to break open our heart are things like pain, mistakes, unjust suffering, tragedy, failure, and the general absurdity of life. I wish it were not so, but it clearly is. Fortunately, life will lead us to the edge of our own resources through such events. We must be led to an experience or situation that we cannot fix or control or understand. That’s where faith begins. Up to that moment it has just been religion!

God is always there with arms outstretched in welcome, ready to receive us with forgiveness, grace, love, and celebration. Come home to love. This is the place where the deepest joy in life is found! 

“Hey there, all who are thirsty, come to the waters!  Are you penniless? Come anyway – buy and eat! Come, buy your drinks, buy wine and milk. Buy without money – everything’s free!”  In our first reading today, the prophet Isaiah speaks these words to the people of Israel as they experience chasmic dislocation, sorrow, desolation, grief, emptiness, and enormous loss, as they ask the often-unanswerable question, “Why?” The people are in exile, in Babylon.  In 587 BCE, Jerusalem had been burned and the temple destroyed.  The king was exiled, the leading citizens were deported, and the life they had known all had come to an end.  It is into this context that Isaiah speaks words of consolation and hope saying, “Hey there, all who are thirsty, come to the waters!’  Imagine hearing these words, “come, buy and eat, even though you have no money, it is free.”  The prophet addresses the void, the emptiness, the nothingness compared to what once was.  He addresses the dislocation and the sorrow in the lives of the people.  As he does this, he uses the metaphor of food to remind them of the covenant that God had established and renewed.  Isaiah likens God’s faithful, everlasting covenant to food freely given, as he says, “Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good…. come to me, listen, so that you may live.” Isaiah is proclaiming a promise of hope to those in exile, a promise the God of Israel made to the descendants of David, a promise that applies to all nations and all people. God, whose mercy is beyond understanding, welcomes everyone who turns around and turns back to God, everyone who comes to enjoy the feast of forgiveness, grace, tenacious mercy, and love.

As I hear these words, I must say they touch the deepest places of my being when I think about the people of Ukraine. I realize this very God is right now faithfully present to the people in Ukraine, even though they may not feel it. They are experiencing chasmic dislocation, sorrow, desolation, grief, and enormous loss.  The cry from the depth of their hearts is, “Why? Why, Lord, why?” The only thing that gives me hope right now is knowing that this gracious God in whom we trust is present to them as they live with such horror and grief. This gracious God is present to those seeking refuge, and present to the people welcoming those who seek refuge.  This God of love is present to all of us, holding us in love, even as millions of people are experiencing dislocation, grief, and emptiness. And this God of love is calling us to be God’s hands and feet as we work to do whatever we can to address the senseless violence and tragedy and try to somehow make a difference in people’s lives.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is out preaching and teaching on his way to Jerusalem when some from the crowd ask him to comment on what to us is an obscure historical reference but what at the time must have been the latest news of violence and tragedy. It seems Pilate recently had a group of Galileans killed as they were making sacrifices at the temple in Jerusalem. As far as we’re told, these were just some pilgrims who had come from lowly Galilee to the Holy City to make their sacrifices.  Now, we are not told why Pilate had these pilgrims killed. However, that may be because with Rome, “reasons” for violence and intimidation weren’t always necessary.  

We also do not know just why they came and told Jesus about this tragedy. It could simply have been because that’s just what we do when tragedies happen or when violence strikes. We talk about it and ask, “Why?”

Why are the Russians attacking civilians in Ukraine?

Why are they bombing hospitals, schools, and children?

And the questions behind these questions are always bigger and more universal:

Why do bad things happen?

Why does violence and evil always seem to win?

No doubt these were the questions behind the questions the people asked of Jesus regarding this event – unanswered questions we know very well and ask this very day. But from the way Jesus responds, we can guess there might have been more going on here as he was asked this question.  Jesus asks them, “Do you think these Galileans got what they deserved?” You see, Galilee was a rural region to the North of Jerusalem, viewed in those days as backwards and bumpkin by the people from the big city. Not only that, but the Galileans also had a reputation for being wild and rebellious, always getting in trouble with Rome, making life more difficult for everyone. To put it plainly, the Galileans were embarrassing and thought of as something like second-class Jews. So, Jesus addresses that skewed perspective and asks, “Do you think these Galileans got what was coming to them?” And he then asks them about another tragedy now lost to history, one that seems to have happened in their own backyard. He asks, “What about the 18 who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell in Jerusalem – do you think they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? Did they get what they deserved?”

It’s not just the age-old question of why tragedy happens that Jesus is addressing here, but the equally old impulse to wonder if somehow, someway, people get what they deserve, be it good or bad. Jesus addresses the flawed idea that suffering – be it our own or the suffering of others – must be a result of some mistake on the part of the victim, some infraction, some transgression, and God is simply settling the score.

We know this isn’t true.  The truth is our bad decisions often come with consequences. However, we also know that not all suffering can be explained through cause and effect. A lifelong smoker who receives a lung cancer diagnosis is one thing, but what of all the kids in the cancer wards of children’s hospitals? Bad things just sometimes happen!  God does not create and impose suffering upon the people God so dearly loves. God does NOT cause suffering!

Anyway, Jesus has more to say about the suffering of the innocent in other places, but here he drills in on the bigger issue, the deeper truth as he sees it. He simply tells them, “Repent. Turn around. Turn back to God.” In essence, it is as though he says, “Don’t you know that life is precious, that life is a gift? So, use it well!”  And then, to make his point, he tells them this story about a fig tree.

Jesus tells of a fig tree that hasn’t born fruit for three years, and the owner of the vineyard would like to do what would have been the reasonable thing to do, which is to cut it down and make room for another tree that will bear fruit. But the gardener tells the owner, “Let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put more manure on it. If it bears fruit then, great, but if not, we will cut it down.”

What do we make of this strange, unusual parable? In the gospel of Luke, Jesus tells this story as he is about to face his own death. And, while this is a parable about judgement, it is first and foremost a story about forgiveness and grace. When commenting on this parable, theologian, Robert Farrar Capon, compares Jesus to the Gardener and he writes:

This entire world lives, as the fig tree lives, under the rubric of forgiveness.  The world, of course, thinks and believes otherwise.  In its blind wisdom, it thinks it lives by merit and reward….But by the foolishness of God, that is not the way it works. By the folly of the cross, Jesus becomes sin for us, and he goes outside the camp for us, and he is relegated to the dump for us, and he becomes garbage and compost and manure for us. And then he comes to us. The Gardener who on the cross said, “Father, forgive them,” comes to us with his own body dug deep by nails and spears, and his own being made dung by his death, and he sends our roots resurrection. He does not come to see if we are good: he comes to disturb the caked conventions by which we pretend to be good. He does not come to see if we are sorry: he knows our repentance isn’t worth the hot air we put into it. He doe not come to count anything….He comes only to forgive. For free. For nothing…We are saved by grace. We do nothing and we deserve nothing; it is all, absolutely and without qualification, one huge, hilarious gift.

So, come!  Come even now as we presently face the challenging questions of WHY, and as our hearts bleed. Come, be fed the food that truly matters, the food that truly sustains us, the food that is all about forgiveness and grace.  It is free, and it is all gift!