What are the latest
disasters on your mind? And I don’t mean
somebody forgetting to start the coffee.
What about Sandy, or the tornadoes in Springfield in 2011? The aftereffects will be with you for a long
time. The cleanup and the economic
impact will continue for months and maybe years. Is that one of the “signs in the heavens, the
roaring of the sea and its waves”? Are
people fainting from fear and foreboding?
They certainly have been in other places up and down the Eastern
seaboard. Whole communities have
disappeared.
The Bishop of Long Island told us yesterday that 90 of their hospital
employees lost their homes to the fires that erupted in the midst of the
storm. A rabbi friend of mine in New
York told of entire congregations that are displaced – every member now homeless,
and their synagogues unusable as well. Both
are gathering ordained and lay leaders to figure out how to support people in
this massive displacement. My friend the
rabbi has worked on the particular needs of children, like how to bring them
back to Hebrew school once there’s a space to meet in again, and how to respond
to their questions in the face of disaster – the same questions ones people of
all ages ask. She’s reminding others of
a prayer that sounds much like today’s psalm, and encouraging them to pray it
with worried children:
“I place my spirit in God’s care;
my body too can feel God near.
When I sleep, as when I wake,
God is with me; I have no fear.”[1]
This community here has been through
something like the end-of-the-world events Jesus is talking about. A collapsing building must felt like the apocalypse
for the people of St. James. For St.
George, it may have been harder so see slowly collapsing finances as a crisis,
but each community must have experienced a good deal of fear and anxiety over
months and years.
What happened to bring you to this place? It was the beginning of the end for both
communities, yet now is abundant new life to celebrate. The passing away of what you knew of heaven
and earth has brought new energy to your earth-shaped ministry in Gideon’s
Garden, as well as vitality to the Lee Pantry and nursing home ministry. A new and vibrant community is being built
here at Crissey Farm, by the grace of God.
How did you get here?
How do we move from fear to
confidence, knowing that God is near?
Rabbi Jesus reminds his friends to
stay alert, and pay attention, for help is coming. The word he uses for help – redemption – means literally, “buying
back,” like taking something back to the store and getting your money back, or
turning in your winning lottery ticket for the prize. In Jesus’ day it was more often used to mean
paying a ransom to liberate a captive, or buying the freedom of a slave. Mostly in the New Testament it means setting
people free, through the saving work of Jesus.
What does he say about his purpose?
I came that you might have life, and have it abundantly.
That abundant life is grounded in
hope and expectation that even in the midst of world-ending disasters, God is
doing a new thing.
Yet that’s not always our first
response to the threat of death and destruction. We tend to cower in the dark for quite a
while when the lights go out the first time.
Maybe for those with more experience, it’s only a second or two, but
there is still a shiver of fear and doubt before we go hunt down the flashlight
and candles. It does get easier with practice, which is one reason we call what we
do in communities like this one, “practicing our faith.” It includes teaching our children night-time
prayers, and it includes telling the stories of our own deliverance and
redemption.
I’m standing here today because of
my own experience in the dark. The
bottom fell out of my possibilities as an oceanographer 25 years ago, as
federal research funding was diverted from basic science to other ends. I felt like a complete failure – what had I
spent all those years doing in graduate school if I couldn’t find a real
position and a lasting job? In the midst
of that dark night three people in my congregation asked me if I’d ever thought
about being a priest. Those challenges
came out of the blue, and they made little sense to me at the time, but eventually
they became a sign that God might do something else with me if I could find the
guts and the hope to cooperate.
We all have stories of new life, but
most of us have to practice telling them, or telling more than one such story. I had somebody else challenge me along the
way by asking what the hardest thing was going to be in exploring this
vocation. From somewhere deep inside
came the response, “learning to be vulnerable in public.” Telling the story is an act that claims the
confidence that help is on its way, remembers that help is already present, and
that we’ve already seen God in action in our own lives! Telling the story also creates more hope, and
more confidence – practice may not make us perfect in this life, but it leads
us closer to God.
What does Jesus say in this
morning’s gospel? “Stand up, pay
attention, because your redemption – your experience of new life – is coming. All you have to do is look for the
signs. But don’t let your guard down –
your heart has to be open and not completely filled with anxiety or unimportant
things. New life is on its way – keep
watching for it, don’t miss it or ignore the signs, even when they’re tiny.” That’s what he means by praying that you have
the strength to escape these disasters, especially the invitation to
hopelessness that often comes with darkness and disaster. Don’t give in.
Call on your friends to tell their
stories of hope, or to ask you to tell yours.
What story would you tell your neighbor about hope? Take a few minutes to bring that story to
mind, and then consider where you might tell it today, and this week. Come next Sunday, reflect on the stories
you’ve heard and told, and take the measure of your hope and confidence. God is indeed doing a new thing. Can you see it?
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