Feb
19, 2012
Or
text today comes from Isaiah 43: 18 – 25. The people of Israel have just
escaped through the God’s parting of the Red Sea. Now they are waiting in exile
in the desert.
Isaiah
43: 18 – 25 NRSV
Do
not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
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.
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.
Yet
you did not call upon me,
O Jacob; but you have been weary of me, O
Israel!
You
have not brought me your sheep for burnt offerings,
or honored me with your sacrifices.
I
have not burdened you with offerings,
or wearied you with frankincense.
You
have not bought me sweet cane with money,
or satisfied me with the fat of your sacrifices.
But
you have burdened me with your sins;
you have wearied me with your iniquities.
I,
I am The who blots out your transgressions for my own sake,
and I will not remember your sins.
***
We gather here in this sanctuary like exiles in an
in-between time. We bring with us our sorrows and our sins, our burdens and our
labors. We bring with us thoughts of what once was, of the places where God was
once active beyond our wildest imagination, and yet seems active no more. We
come as people of this world, hoping for the next.
We gather here like exiles in an in-between time.
Today we will be reminded of the words that Christ once said, “This is my body
broken for you,” “My blood poured out for you.” We will remember the pain of
that sacrifice. Yet we also remember the truth of that amazing promise. A
promise that Christ’s body and blood would be the, “Bread of Life,” “Cup of
Salvation.” During communion we remember the promise that once was, and the
promise that is to come. We are exiles during communion.
We gather here like exiles in an in-between time.
The journey of Lent is about to begin. Lent, an exile in itself, a time of
denial, a time quiet reflection, a time of grief, a time of waiting for the
promised Easter. Lent remembers for 40 days Jesus’ exile in the desert. We in
this time are in our own desert.
We gather here in this sanctuary like exiles in an
in-between time. To this sanctuary we bring with us our sorrows and our sins.
We bring with us a war torn world, a world of current genocide, of children
with guns, of their leaders breaking them down in ways too strong for sermons
to describe when our children are present. We bring with us into this sanctuary
a people hungry and starving, bodies wrecked by disease, dying. We bring with
us our leaders constantly fighting, for what seems merely fighting’s sake,
devil’s advocates. We bring with us into this sanctuary an earth uprooted with
greed, dug up, pumped out, slaughtered, and devastated, leaving God’s creation
a polluted wasteland. We bring with us into this sanctuary systematic
oppression, of racism pushed under the rug, of the poor being blamed for
laziness, of women still seeing their rights under attack, and of ourselves
silent as churches split from our denomination. We bring with us into this sanctuary
our addictions, to food, to control, to perfection, to work, to isolation, to
popularity, to alcohol, to our drug of choice, to conflict, to keeping the
status quo. We bring with us into this sanctuary mental illness, of depression,
of addiction, of narcissism, of bi-polar, of PTSD, of anxiety. We bring with us
into this sanctuary our own broken relationships, with our families,
relationships of distance, and denial, of co-dependence, of abuse, of adultery,
of abandonment. We bring with us our relationship with you God, we feel
unworthy, as if to pray for ourselves would be a sin, or we feel that you are
not worthy, and make you in our image.
We are in an in-between time. We are exiles we are
in a desert. Yet, it is into this exile God speaks to the people Israel, it is
in this desert Jesus battles victoriously with the devil, it is in communion
that we celebrate a joyful feast, it is even during Lent, that each Sunday
represents the season of Easter. In the midst of our wilderness, God is making
a way. God creates rivers in the desert. God is giving a drink to God’s people.
Do not simply remember Jesus on the cross, or the empty tomb, for from God, new
things spring forth now. Do you not perceive it?
Down in the bowls of this church, children are being
fed. Yesterday Mark Ferns, Liz, and I went to a presbytery meeting on mission.
Each church got up said what they were doing. It was amazing, and what I
realized was to be a Christian you must be a dreamer. You must be able to
imagine and see the water in the desert, and the way in the wilderness. We are
a people in exile, but we are also a people of hope, and of dreams.
To be a Christian you must be able to dream. Bring
into this sanctuary your dreams. Let us bring into this sanctuary a dream of
world where there is peace, where guns turn to flowers, and children are our
leaders. Bring into this sanctuary a dream of harvest, and health for all.
Bring into this sanctuary a dream of leaders speaking peace, and concord. Bring
into this sanctuary a dream of the earth as Eden, restoring, and healing, and
growing. Bring into this sanctuary a dream of welcome, of a congregation of
diversity and beautiful, of a denomination of justice and unity. Bring into
this sanctuary a dream of freedom from addictions of all kinds. Bring into this
sanctuary a dream of freedom from the confines of mental illness. Bring into
this sanctuary a dream of right relationships, of love, of care, of strength,
of self worth, of other’s worth, of healthy vulnerability, of healing, of wholeness.
Bring into this sanctuary, a dream of relationship with God, bring your praise,
and your quiet reflection, bring your time, and your talents, bring your
questions, and your experience, bring your openness, and your willingness to be
wrong, and to be humbled by God who is beyond understanding, bring you
willingness to teach others what you know, bring your prayers that this place
might be a river in the desert, and way in the wilderness. When you come into
this sanctuary honor God, for God formed us for Godself, so that we may declare
God’s praise. God has blotted out our transgressions, for God own sake. God
does not remember our sins. God is not looking the former things. God is asking
us to see life anew.
What is God asking you to dream about, to hope in?
What are the needs that surround us in this community, and in God’s world that
you dream can be different? What are your talents, and your spiritual gifts
that might make your dream a reality? How as a congregation do we make God’s
dreams our own, and help them to come true. Being a Christian is about being a
dreamer. As we wait in exile, what rivers are springing forth, what ways are
made in the wilderness, what is God’s dream for you, for us as a whole?
