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

This is a special musical presentation of Deep River by Christopher Lewis at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical presentation of Here & Now by Christopher Lewis at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

This is a special musical presentation of Here & Now by Christopher Lewis at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.

Every day we go through life with preconceived notions and assumptions regarding the way we think of other people and the way in which we think events and situations might occur or ought to occur. These beliefs shape us and have an astounding impact on our perceptions of and reactions to the world around us, often without us even being aware of this influence.  Isaac Asimov, when talking about preconceived notions and assumptions, once said, “Your assumptions are your windows on the world.  Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won’t come in.”  I think that is great advice and something all of us need to heed.  It is also great advice to keep in mind when looking at today’s gospel reading.  Quite frankly, the power of God is always breaking through and shattering our assumptions.  This is true today and it was true for Jesus when he began his ministry. 

The writer of Mark’s gospel tells us Jesus has begun a ministry of healing people, casting out demons and proclaiming this new way of being and understanding of God.  He has been traveling around and ministering to all kinds of people who did not know him, and they have been marveling at what God is doing.  So today, we find Jesus making his way back home to Nazareth.   Jesus’ visit to his hometown is not a social call for the purpose of visiting friends and family.  He comes back to Nazareth to teach a new understanding of the nature of God, to proclaim who he is and invite others to share in this mission.  He begins teaching in the synagogue, teaching to people who do know him and, at first, they are amazed by what he says.  But then, he is quickly met with disdain and rejection by his hometown neighbors and friends.  They begin saying, “He’s just a carpenter – Mary’s boy.  We’ve known him since he was a kid.  We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude and Simon, and his sisters.  Who does he think he is?”  The people in his hometown do not know where Jesus has gotten such power or wisdom.  Jesus shatters their assumptions and preconceived notions about him because he, this person they have known their entire lives, is not what they expected in a prophet, let alone a messiah.  Quite frankly, it is their knowledge of Jesus that keeps them from really knowing him and benefiting from what he is saying and doing.  And, to accept him as a prophet or messiah would mean calling into question much of what they thought they knew about the world, about people and about themselves.

As we look at the remarkable events of the past several weeks within our own culture, I have to ask, could today’s gospel reading serve as a warning to all who assume they really know Jesus?  In light of some of the callousness and hurt that has been shown to those considered “other,” and in light of the hatred we have seen espoused by people who call themselves “Christian,” what does this say to any of us who assume we have the correct answers and, in our certainty, think we know the mind of God?  Far too often, we who are part of communities of faith assume God fits into our preconceived boxes and notions of God, and we are slow to accept anything that challenges our deeply embedded assumptions.  And, it is so difficult to talk about or talk with those who are different from us because of our sense of surety and our preconceived assumptions.   Whether people are different in terms of age, occupation, economic status, race, country of origin, ethnicity or sexual orientation, we tend to have a construct about how people should be and, when we meet someone who differs from that construct, we tend to find it threatening.  Consequently, it is so very difficult for us to see Jesus in any we categorize as “other.”  And, far too often, we try to mold Jesus into our image of what we think Jesus should be, a Jesus who we are comfortable with, a Jesus who will not challenge our assumptions, a Jesus who looks and acts like us.  I am reminded of something theologian, John Dominic Crossan, once said - “Beware of finding a Jesus entirely congenial to you.” 

When Jesus went back to Nazareth he proclaimed the good news of God’s presence and he shattered people’s assumptions and preconceived notions about him. They tried to dismiss his proclamation and they rejected him.  And, the truth the matter is, this story is about us.  All too often, we are tempted to do the same, to reject Jesus as we dismiss and reject those who challenge our thinking.  We often dismiss others, reject them and thereby fail to receive the totality of the person God has created and redeemed, the person who is offered to us as a gift.  And, when we cannot see God in those we consider “other,” it becomes even more difficult for us to have honest and necessary conversations about prejudice, bigotry and racism, because our assumptions are challenged.  It is frightening to talk about perceived changing moral values that test assumptions we have held for many years.  We want to keep things the same, gather with those who look and think like us, and draw the boundaries a little tighter around those we think are “in” and those we think are “out.”  Yet, we know that this is not what God calls us to do.  This God in whom we believe is one who welcomes all with immeasurable grace, mercy and love.  And, the truth of the matter is, every time we try to draw a line between who we think is “in” and who is “out,” we will find Jesus on the other side of the line.

Yes, when Jesus was rejected by his own friends and neighbors, it was their knowledge of him that kept them from really knowing him and benefiting from what he was saying and doing.  This story of Jesus’ own rejection at Nazareth sets up the mission of the twelve disciples.  This experience points to what in Mark’s Gospel appears to be the preparation of the Twelve for what might be a mixed reception as they are sent out on a mission to spread the good news of God’s love for all.  The disciples are warned: “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”  When Jesus says this, we cannot help but be reminded of what Jesus has just experienced in Nazareth. Nevertheless, just as Jesus persists in his work by healing and curing even “a few sick people” amid the “unbelief” of the people of Nazareth, the disciples are commanded to persist in their own work in his name.  Just as Jesus keeps on loving and healing, the disciples are to do the same.  And, the message for each of us in our mission is that we are not held responsible for the response to our mission in Christ’s name, but only for our own faithfulness to Christ’s mission in this world.  With such assurance, we can witness boldly and faithfully as we live into our baptismal vocation and bear Christ’s creative and redeeming word to the world, a word this world desperately needs to hear!

Today’s gospel reading reminds us that we, in whatever our context, are called to continue witnessing to the One who welcomes all, the one who loves all, the one who shows grace and mercy to all.  Today’s reading reminds us that this Jesus is never going to fit into any box we create for him based on our assumptions.  This Jesus who willingly went to the cross because of God’s love for this world, totally shattered all assumptions about what a messiah should look like and do.  And, just maybe, Jesus continues shattering our preconceived notions and assumptions, our “windows on the world,” scrubbing them off so we can more clearly see the light of God’s love and grace.

Every day we go through life with preconceived notions and assumptions regarding the way we think of other people and the way in which we think events and situations might occur or ought to occur. These beliefs shape us and have an astounding impact on our perceptions of and reactions to the world around us, often without us even being aware of this influence.  Isaac Asimov, when talking about preconceived notions and assumptions, once said, “Your assumptions are your windows on the world.  Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won’t come in.”  I think that is great advice and something all of us need to heed.  It is also great advice to keep in mind when looking at today’s gospel reading.  Quite frankly, the power of God is always breaking through and shattering our assumptions.  This is true today and it was true for Jesus when he began his ministry. 

The writer of Mark’s gospel tells us Jesus has begun a ministry of healing people, casting out demons and proclaiming this new way of being and understanding of God.  He has been traveling around and ministering to all kinds of people who did not know him, and they have been marveling at what God is doing.  So today, we find Jesus making his way back home to Nazareth.   Jesus’ visit to his hometown is not a social call for the purpose of visiting friends and family.  He comes back to Nazareth to teach a new understanding of the nature of God, to proclaim who he is and invite others to share in this mission.  He begins teaching in the synagogue, teaching to people who do know him and, at first, they are amazed by what he says.  But then, he is quickly met with disdain and rejection by his hometown neighbors and friends.  They begin saying, “He’s just a carpenter – Mary’s boy.  We’ve known him since he was a kid.  We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude and Simon, and his sisters.  Who does he think he is?”  The people in his hometown do not know where Jesus has gotten such power or wisdom.  Jesus shatters their assumptions and preconceived notions about him because he, this person they have known their entire lives, is not what they expected in a prophet, let alone a messiah.  Quite frankly, it is their knowledge of Jesus that keeps them from really knowing him and benefiting from what he is saying and doing.  And, to accept him as a prophet or messiah would mean calling into question much of what they thought they knew about the world, about people and about themselves.

As we look at the remarkable events of the past several weeks within our own culture, I have to ask, could today’s gospel reading serve as a warning to all who assume they really know Jesus?  In light of some of the callousness and hurt that has been shown to those considered “other,” and in light of the hatred we have seen espoused by people who call themselves “Christian,” what does this say to any of us who assume we have the correct answers and, in our certainty, think we know the mind of God?  Far too often, we who are part of communities of faith assume God fits into our preconceived boxes and notions of God, and we are slow to accept anything that challenges our deeply embedded assumptions.  And, it is so difficult to talk about or talk with those who are different from us because of our sense of surety and our preconceived assumptions.   Whether people are different in terms of age, occupation, economic status, race, country of origin, ethnicity or sexual orientation, we tend to have a construct about how people should be and, when we meet someone who differs from that construct, we tend to find it threatening.  Consequently, it is so very difficult for us to see Jesus in any we categorize as “other.”  And, far too often, we try to mold Jesus into our image of what we think Jesus should be, a Jesus who we are comfortable with, a Jesus who will not challenge our assumptions, a Jesus who looks and acts like us.  I am reminded of something theologian, John Dominic Crossan, once said - “Beware of finding a Jesus entirely congenial to you.” 

When Jesus went back to Nazareth he proclaimed the good news of God’s presence and he shattered people’s assumptions and preconceived notions about him. They tried to dismiss his proclamation and they rejected him.  And, the truth the matter is, this story is about us.  All too often, we are tempted to do the same, to reject Jesus as we dismiss and reject those who challenge our thinking.  We often dismiss others, reject them and thereby fail to receive the totality of the person God has created and redeemed, the person who is offered to us as a gift.  And, when we cannot see God in those we consider “other,” it becomes even more difficult for us to have honest and necessary conversations about prejudice, bigotry and racism, because our assumptions are challenged.  It is frightening to talk about perceived changing moral values that test assumptions we have held for many years.  We want to keep things the same, gather with those who look and think like us, and draw the boundaries a little tighter around those we think are “in” and those we think are “out.”  Yet, we know that this is not what God calls us to do.  This God in whom we believe is one who welcomes all with immeasurable grace, mercy and love.  And, the truth of the matter is, every time we try to draw a line between who we think is “in” and who is “out,” we will find Jesus on the other side of the line.

Yes, when Jesus was rejected by his own friends and neighbors, it was their knowledge of him that kept them from really knowing him and benefiting from what he was saying and doing.  This story of Jesus’ own rejection at Nazareth sets up the mission of the twelve disciples.  This experience points to what in Mark’s Gospel appears to be the preparation of the Twelve for what might be a mixed reception as they are sent out on a mission to spread the good news of God’s love for all.  The disciples are warned: “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”  When Jesus says this, we cannot help but be reminded of what Jesus has just experienced in Nazareth. Nevertheless, just as Jesus persists in his work by healing and curing even “a few sick people” amid the “unbelief” of the people of Nazareth, the disciples are commanded to persist in their own work in his name.  Just as Jesus keeps on loving and healing, the disciples are to do the same.  And, the message for each of us in our mission is that we are not held responsible for the response to our mission in Christ’s name, but only for our own faithfulness to Christ’s mission in this world.  With such assurance, we can witness boldly and faithfully as we live into our baptismal vocation and bear Christ’s creative and redeeming word to the world, a word this world desperately needs to hear!

Today’s gospel reading reminds us that we, in whatever our context, are called to continue witnessing to the One who welcomes all, the one who loves all, the one who shows grace and mercy to all.  Today’s reading reminds us that this Jesus is never going to fit into any box we create for him based on our assumptions.  This Jesus who willingly went to the cross because of God’s love for this world, totally shattered all assumptions about what a messiah should look like and do.  And, just maybe, Jesus continues shattering our preconceived notions and assumptions, our “windows on the world,” scrubbing them off so we can more clearly see the light of God’s love and grace.

This is a special musical performance of The Lord's Prayer at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan by soloist, Ryan Thompson.

This is a special musical performance of The Lord's Prayer at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan by soloist, Ryan Thompson.

Today’s gospel story is so rich in meaning there simply is no way we have the time to cover everything it is communicating to us.  As I studied today’s passage while sifting through the fullness of the reading and deciding on a direction or focus for our time together this morning, I found this quote from Episcopal priest and author, Robert Capon, to be very helpful.  When summarizing the gospel message, Capon has said, “Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.  You don’t have to be smart.  You don’t have to be wise.  You don’t have to BE anything…..you just have to be dead.  That’s it.” 

So, with this quote in mind as we look at today’s gospel, I guess the question for each of us this morning is, “Are we dead or alive?”  For many of us, our answer might depend on the kind of week we have just experienced.  Some of us possibly came here feeling very alive, and we might ask why we are feeling that way?  Is it because of a person?  Is it because of the love we have been given from another?  Or, is it because of something that happened to us?  Others might feel sadness.  Maybe you are experiencing broken dreams or a sense of alienation.  For some, there might be a sense of broken-heartedness that even gives one the feeling of death.  Now this does not necessarily mean one is depressed or one feels sad all the time.  But, I am sure most of us probably have had times when we can feel and touch a pool of sadness deep within our self.  I know that my heart has been breaking a little more each day as I hear of the hurt, struggle and pain in the lives of the most vulnerable among us in our country and in this world.

So, if by chance you don’t feel particularly alive this morning, that is okay because I believe you can enter this gospel lesson by identifying with the twelve-year old girl in today’s story.  Now, it may sound shocking to think that we can enter this gospel reading by identifying with someone Jesus brings back to life, but, remember Capon’s words.  “Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.”

The story begins with this man, a leader in the synagogue, whose name is Jairus.   Jairus comes to Jesus because his little daughter is near death and he begs Jesus to come and heal her.  Jesus responds by going with Jairus to his home to heal the girl.  However, on his way to the house, Jesus gets interrupted and the girl dies. The interruption is intentional on the part of the gospel writer. There is another story that Mark wants us to hear. This is the story of an older woman who looks to us to be very much alive, but she is not. Mark tells us that she has suffered for twelve years with hemorrhaging. This continuous issue of blood has made her an outcast. She is cut off from people and she cannot go to the synagogue to worship. In her heart she believes that she is cut off from God. She is as good as dead in her Jewish community.  She is ostracized and considered unclean, untouchable.  Yet, something propels her through the crowd.  This woman really has guts.   She longs to be healed and Jesus may be her last hope.  So, from behind, hoping not to be seen, she sneaks a touch of his cloak, and Mark tells us she is immediately healed.

Now, if this were a movie, this would be the point when the camera would zoom in on Jesus as he asks, “Who just touched my clothes?" He then looks around and this woman comes forward, kneels and tells him the whole truth. This, Mark wants us to know, is God reaching down and saying to this woman and to all of us, "Daughter (Son), you took a risk of faith and now you have been made well... you are whole.”

Yes, Jesus came to raise the dead.  While this woman had looked alive, she was as good as dead before she touched Jesus.   But now, she has been raised to new life.  She has been made well and raised to wholeness.

The gospel writer now refocuses our attention on the story of the twelve-year old girl. We are not given her name, but we do know her father was very important.  He was one of the VIP’s, one of the big wigs, at the synagogue. He'd heard hundreds of sermons and prayed thousands of prayers.  But none of that matters because today he is face to face with death, the death of his child. And, because Jesus had gotten delayed by the woman in the crowd, when they finally reach the house of Jairus, the little girl is dead.  Jesus walks in on the preparations for a funeral. People are crying, trays of food are being brought in.  People are looking at this stranger, Jesus, wondering who he is and why he has come.  And, when Jesus finally speaks it is a pronouncement: "The child is not dead but sleeping.” Sarcastically, the people who are gathered laugh him off, he doesn't know what he is talking about. They do not yet know that they are in the presence of God. In God's presence there is no death – only life.  Anyway, Jesus bends down and takes the hand of the twelve-year old girl.  He speaks saying, “Little girl, get up!”  And, to the surprise of those who are present, she gets up and Jesus tenderly asks them to get her some food.  Yes, Jesus came to raise the dead.

Presbyterian minister, author and theologian, Fredrick Buechner, when focusing on this gospel story and Jesus’ power to raise the dead, writes:

Little girl. Old girl. Old boy. Old boys and girls with high blood pressure and arthritis, and young boys and girls with tattoos and body piercing. You who believe, and you who sometimes believe and sometimes don't believe much of anything, and you who would give almost anything to believe if only you could. You happy ones and you who can hardly remember what it was like once to be happy. You who know where you're going and how to get there and you who much of the time aren't sure you're getting anywhere. "Get up," he says, all of you - all of you! - and the power that is in him is the power to give life not just to the dead like the child, but to those who are only partly alive, which is to say to people like you and me who much of the time live with our lives closed to the wild beauty and miracle of things, including the wild beauty and miracle of every day we live and even of ourselves.

It is that life-giving power that is at the heart of this shadowy story about Jairus and the daughter he loved, and that I believe is at the heart of all our stories-the power of new life, new hope, new being, that whether we know it or not, I think, keeps us coming to places like this year after year in search of it. It is the power to get up even when getting up isn't all that easy for us anymore and to keep getting up and going on and on toward whatever it is, whoever he is, that all our lives long reaches out to take us by the hand.

          Yes, that God we know in Jesus is always reaching out to us to take us by the hand and raise us up to new life.  So, as I reflect upon the broken-heartedness I have been feeling lately, I have realized something.  Maybe, we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we find ourselves truly feeling broken-heartedness and sadness and grief.  Maybe we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we let go of all the denial that we hold on to and let ourselves truly feel the pain of the grief we carry.  Maybe we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we find ourselves truly feeling a broken-heartedness that we are unable to fix by ourselves.  Just maybe, we have to truly allow ourselves to feel something of death to understand the power of this Jesus who not only heals but even has power over death, itself.  I do believe Robert Capon is right on.  It is true!  Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.  Amen.

Today’s gospel story is so rich in meaning there simply is no way we have the time to cover everything it is communicating to us.  As I studied today’s passage while sifting through the fullness of the reading and deciding on a direction or focus for our time together this morning, I found this quote from Episcopal priest and author, Robert Capon, to be very helpful.  When summarizing the gospel message, Capon has said, “Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.  You don’t have to be smart.  You don’t have to be wise.  You don’t have to BE anything…..you just have to be dead.  That’s it.” 

So, with this quote in mind as we look at today’s gospel, I guess the question for each of us this morning is, “Are we dead or alive?”  For many of us, our answer might depend on the kind of week we have just experienced.  Some of us possibly came here feeling very alive, and we might ask why we are feeling that way?  Is it because of a person?  Is it because of the love we have been given from another?  Or, is it because of something that happened to us?  Others might feel sadness.  Maybe you are experiencing broken dreams or a sense of alienation.  For some, there might be a sense of broken-heartedness that even gives one the feeling of death.  Now this does not necessarily mean one is depressed or one feels sad all the time.  But, I am sure most of us probably have had times when we can feel and touch a pool of sadness deep within our self.  I know that my heart has been breaking a little more each day as I hear of the hurt, struggle and pain in the lives of the most vulnerable among us in our country and in this world.

So, if by chance you don’t feel particularly alive this morning, that is okay because I believe you can enter this gospel lesson by identifying with the twelve-year old girl in today’s story.  Now, it may sound shocking to think that we can enter this gospel reading by identifying with someone Jesus brings back to life, but, remember Capon’s words.  “Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.”

The story begins with this man, a leader in the synagogue, whose name is Jairus.   Jairus comes to Jesus because his little daughter is near death and he begs Jesus to come and heal her.  Jesus responds by going with Jairus to his home to heal the girl.  However, on his way to the house, Jesus gets interrupted and the girl dies. The interruption is intentional on the part of the gospel writer. There is another story that Mark wants us to hear. This is the story of an older woman who looks to us to be very much alive, but she is not. Mark tells us that she has suffered for twelve years with hemorrhaging. This continuous issue of blood has made her an outcast. She is cut off from people and she cannot go to the synagogue to worship. In her heart she believes that she is cut off from God. She is as good as dead in her Jewish community.  She is ostracized and considered unclean, untouchable.  Yet, something propels her through the crowd.  This woman really has guts.   She longs to be healed and Jesus may be her last hope.  So, from behind, hoping not to be seen, she sneaks a touch of his cloak, and Mark tells us she is immediately healed.

Now, if this were a movie, this would be the point when the camera would zoom in on Jesus as he asks, “Who just touched my clothes?" He then looks around and this woman comes forward, kneels and tells him the whole truth. This, Mark wants us to know, is God reaching down and saying to this woman and to all of us, "Daughter (Son), you took a risk of faith and now you have been made well... you are whole.”

Yes, Jesus came to raise the dead.  While this woman had looked alive, she was as good as dead before she touched Jesus.   But now, she has been raised to new life.  She has been made well and raised to wholeness.

The gospel writer now refocuses our attention on the story of the twelve-year old girl. We are not given her name, but we do know her father was very important.  He was one of the VIP’s, one of the big wigs, at the synagogue. He'd heard hundreds of sermons and prayed thousands of prayers.  But none of that matters because today he is face to face with death, the death of his child. And, because Jesus had gotten delayed by the woman in the crowd, when they finally reach the house of Jairus, the little girl is dead.  Jesus walks in on the preparations for a funeral. People are crying, trays of food are being brought in.  People are looking at this stranger, Jesus, wondering who he is and why he has come.  And, when Jesus finally speaks it is a pronouncement: "The child is not dead but sleeping.” Sarcastically, the people who are gathered laugh him off, he doesn't know what he is talking about. They do not yet know that they are in the presence of God. In God's presence there is no death – only life.  Anyway, Jesus bends down and takes the hand of the twelve-year old girl.  He speaks saying, “Little girl, get up!”  And, to the surprise of those who are present, she gets up and Jesus tenderly asks them to get her some food.  Yes, Jesus came to raise the dead.

Presbyterian minister, author and theologian, Fredrick Buechner, when focusing on this gospel story and Jesus’ power to raise the dead, writes:

Little girl. Old girl. Old boy. Old boys and girls with high blood pressure and arthritis, and young boys and girls with tattoos and body piercing. You who believe, and you who sometimes believe and sometimes don't believe much of anything, and you who would give almost anything to believe if only you could. You happy ones and you who can hardly remember what it was like once to be happy. You who know where you're going and how to get there and you who much of the time aren't sure you're getting anywhere. "Get up," he says, all of you - all of you! - and the power that is in him is the power to give life not just to the dead like the child, but to those who are only partly alive, which is to say to people like you and me who much of the time live with our lives closed to the wild beauty and miracle of things, including the wild beauty and miracle of every day we live and even of ourselves.

It is that life-giving power that is at the heart of this shadowy story about Jairus and the daughter he loved, and that I believe is at the heart of all our stories-the power of new life, new hope, new being, that whether we know it or not, I think, keeps us coming to places like this year after year in search of it. It is the power to get up even when getting up isn't all that easy for us anymore and to keep getting up and going on and on toward whatever it is, whoever he is, that all our lives long reaches out to take us by the hand.

          Yes, that God we know in Jesus is always reaching out to us to take us by the hand and raise us up to new life.  So, as I reflect upon the broken-heartedness I have been feeling lately, I have realized something.  Maybe, we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we find ourselves truly feeling broken-heartedness and sadness and grief.  Maybe we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we let go of all the denial that we hold on to and let ourselves truly feel the pain of the grief we carry.  Maybe we cannot really know Jesus as the one who raises the dead until we find ourselves truly feeling a broken-heartedness that we are unable to fix by ourselves.  Just maybe, we have to truly allow ourselves to feel something of death to understand the power of this Jesus who not only heals but even has power over death, itself.  I do believe Robert Capon is right on.  It is true!  Jesus came to raise the dead.  The only qualification for the gift of the gospel is to be dead.  Amen.

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