Oneg Shabbat

Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
with an enormous love,
and only wants
to look upon you
with that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.

This poem, Let your God Love You by the English writer Edwina Gateley, is a beautiful reminder of why we are here; of why we set aside one day each week to come into God’s presence in the company of God’s people.  It reminds us how this day is an oneg shabbat – Hebrew for a “delightful Sabbath”.

The image of this glorious possibility comes to us from today’s reading from Isaiah: “If you call the Sabbath a delight…”  The “if” hints at conditions.  Isaiah’s prophetic message about the Sabbath contains plenty of “ifs”.  Each if points to something the people should be doing, but are not.  Some historical background will help us understand the passage a little better.

This reading comes from a time after the exiles have been freed from Babylon and returned to Jerusalem.  They have set themselves to rebuilding the walls of city under the leadership of Nehemiah and to rebuilding the Temple under the direction of Ezra.  The work is hard and rift with challenges.  Still, progress is being made.  It was a time of great pride and optimism.  There is something very satisfying about seeing the work of your hands produce something tangible, something necessary, and something significant on a daily basis. 

From the perspective of politics and economics things look good.  But prophets like Isaiah focus on the spiritual and in this realm, in his estimation, something is lacking.  By all outward appearances things are fine.  People are attentive to the Sabbath.  They fast.  They pray.  They follow the rules for a proper observance of the day.  What, then, is the problem?  What is Isaiah harping about?

Perhaps you will like this little piece called No Excuse Sunday (author unknown):

To make it possible for everyone to attend church next Sunday, we are going to have a special “No Excuse Sunday”.

Cots will be placed in the foyer for those who say, “Sunday is my only day to sleep in.”

There will be a special section with lounge chairs who feel our pews are too hard.

Eye drops will be available for those with tired eyes from watching T.V. late Saturday night.

We will have steel helmets for those who say “The roof would cave in if I ever came to church.”

Blankets will be furnished for those who think the church is too cold and fans for those who say it is too hot.

Score cards will be available for those who wish to list the hypocrites present.

Relatives and friends will be in attendance for those who can’t go to church and cook dinner, too.

We will distribute “Stamp Out Stewardship” buttons for those who feel the church is always asking for money.

One section will be devoted to trees and grass for those who like to seek God in nature.

Doctors and nurses will be in attendance for those who plan to be sick on Sunday.

The sanctuary will be decorated with both Christmas poinsettias and Easter lilies for those who never have seen the church without them.

We will provide hearing aids for those who can’t hear the preacher and cotton for those who say he is to loud.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I enjoy seeing the pews full as much as anyone, but being here and keeping an oneg shabbat are not one in the same.  The churches in Isaiah’s day were packed, but full does not necessarily mean following.

How far from following are the people of Isaiah’s day?  Listen to the prophet’s message contained in the verses just prior to today’s reading:

Why do we fast, but you do not see?

Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?

Look, you serve your own interest on your fast-day,

and oppress all your workers.

Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight

and to strike with a wicked fist.

Such fasting as you do today

will not make your voice heard on high.

Will you call this a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?

The outward signs are all there, Isaiah says, but they ring hollow.  Each person is focused on self-alone.  In the prophet’s eyes they are not in right relationship with one another.  They quarrel and fight.  They are indifferent to the plight of the hungry and apathetic about those who are not being treated fairly by the system.  They don’t pay their workers what they are worth. 

Speaking for God, Isaiah holds up the prerequisite for an oneg shabbat:

Is not this the fast that I choose: 

to loose the bonds of injustice,

to undo the thongs of the yoke,

to let the oppressed go free,

and to break every yoke?

Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,

and bring the homeless poor into your house;

when you see the naked, to cover them,

and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

If you do this, if you carry oneg shabbat into every aspect of your life, then, says Isaiah, we as a people will be a light in the darkness; gloom will be replaced with the brightness of the mid-day sun.  Focus on one another, Isaiah says, and God will provide for us and make us strong.  Our walls and our Temple will be rebuilt and will stand for generations to come.

Given the words of Isaiah, today’s gospel reading has a parable-like quality to it.  Yes, Jesus sets aside the Sabbath to worship, but it never comes at the expense of human compassion.  The…

God loves you
with an enormous love,
and only wants
to look upon you
with that love...

is an invitation to embrace God’s love so that you can embody God’s love in your relationships with others. 

Jesus does this when he notices one of the most unnoticeable people in the community, a woman bent over and crippled.  He tells her she is set free from her ailment and lays his hands on her.  With this, eighteen years of suffering comes to an end.  The leader of the synagogue, a person who surely would have been at home worshipping with the people of Isaiah’s day, becomes indignant because Jesus healed a person on the Sabbath; something he considered to be “work”, which was forbidden on this day.  Jesus, through his words and deeds, demonstrates how compassion is an integral feature of the Sabbath, not a desecration of it.

Some Jewish synagogues in our day give the name Oneg Shabbat to their fellowship hour after the service.  It is a time to delight in the company of others.  There is an old story about Bernie, a weekly attender at synagogue who told anyone who would listen he did not believe in God.  One day a new, young rabbi came to the synagogue and engaged Bernie in a conversation about faith.  “I don’t believe in God,” Bernie told him.  “If you want to talk with a person who believes in God, go over there and talk to Herman.  He comes here every week to be with God.”  “Well,” the rabbi asked, “why do you come every week if you don’t believe in God?”  “I come,” Bernie said, “to be with my friend Herman.” 

While not exactly an exemplar of the faith, I think Isaiah and Jesus would applaud Bernie and lift up his example for others to consider.  Yes, God desires you to come here seeking the deep, healing, renewing experience Edwina Gateley describes in her poem Let your God Love You.  Surely the unnamed woman in today’s gospel reading experienced God’s incredible love first hand that day in the synagogue.  But Isaiah reminds us to look around as we approach God.  Who is here?  Who is with you?  Who is outside the door?  Whose lives have you touched this week?  Did your touch replicate the touch you seek to receive from God in this place, at this time?  Delight in this Sabbath day and live it throughout the week.

Jeremiah - the Prophet not the Bullfrog

In spite of what we children of the 70’s may think, Jeremiah was not a bullfrog.  He was chosen by God at birth to be a prophet and called to this ministry while just a youth.  His career spanned the reign of five different kings.  It began during a time of national and spiritual revival and endured the untimely death of the reforming king.  He cried out against a return to evil ways, warned of Jerusalem’s destruction, survived the devastation inflicted by the Babylonian army, suffered through the exile, and eventually preached a message of hope and restoration. 

Most books of the prophets tell us much about the prophet’s message, but precious little about their lives.  This is not so with Jeremiah.  We read about how he was imprisoned, threatened with death, violently beaten, thrown into a cistern, placed in stocks, interred in a dungeon, persecuted by family members, and confronted by false prophets – kind of pales the challenge of working with a difficult Vestry.  God forbade Jeremiah to marry, have children, or foster friendships.  He lived a lonely life.  Coupled with his dismal message and the events of his day, Jeremiah had as difficult a life and ministry as is imaginable and yet remained faithful.

In today’s reading he challenges the message of other prophets claiming they are speaking only their own dreams while his words are faithful to God’s word.  God’s word to Jeremiah includes the following:

  God’s people have broken their covenant with God by forsaking God and making material things (called idols) the object of their heart’s desire.  

  God’s people have polluted their faith by mixing it with the practices and beliefs of Baal worship, going so far as to offer child sacrifices to this pagan deity.

  God’s people have fallen into persistent sin which manifests itself through pride, lack of gratitude for all God gives, adultery, oppressing foreigners, insufficient concern for widows and orphans, lying, slandering others, and ignoring the Sabbath.   

For these and other offenses God announces to Jeremiah invaders from the north (the Babylonian army) are being sent to destroy Jerusalem and take captives into exile. 

I hold God’s laws not to be arbitrary.  God did not set up a dartboard at the beginning of creation with fifty spaces on it, throw ten darts, and come up with random commandments to put on tablets.  The sins Jeremiah identifies are offensive to God because they are destructive to human community and flourishing.  God’s people are doing more than turning away from God.  They are embracing practices harmful to themselves and to others.  An invading army does more than destroy their society.  It saves them from themselves by paving the way for new and healthier possibilities.

Jeremiah says the other prophets are speaking dreams they claim to be God’s, but their intention is to get people to focus on them rather than on God.  Their dreams are self-serving.  Their dreams are not God’s dream.  Can there be a more important question in our time than this: “What is God’s dream for the world?”  As we approach the 15^th Anniversary of 9/11 and as we sift through the political rhetoric of a presidential campaign, I have been thinking more and more about God’s dream for us.  What is it?  Who speaks for it?  Who shows it to us?  Like the question of Thomas to Jesus, “How can we know the way?” 

A good number of you have asked me what I think about the upcoming presidential election.  You don’t ask because you want to know whom you should vote for or whom I am voting for.  You ask because you are concerned, worried, anxious, and deeply troubled by the choices.  You can’t vote for either major candidate and are mystified and appalled that it has come down to these two people.

John Pavlovitz is a pastor in Raleigh who posts on a very thoughtful blog site called Stuff that Needs to be Said.  Earlier in the week he wrote this:

This election season is an X-ray, revealing something about the core of who we are.  It is illuminating the insidious Cancer that we find ourselves presently afflicted with.  It is showing the anger and racism and homophobia, and most of all the toxic fear embedded deep within the marrow of America.

35 percent of this country doesn’t care how ignorant of the issues Donald Trump is, how untruthful he is, or how low he stoops—none of that matters… 

This all isn’t the fault of one dangerous person.  It isn’t the fault of those 35 percent who support his cause.  No, 100 percent of us need to own this because we’ve all played our part.

We have become this frightened, this angry, this vulnerable, this divided—together.

Churches, politicians, corporate America, public servants, working folks; ordinary people of every color, creed, and persuasion—we’ve all had our hand in it.  This has been created on our watch.

No matter what happens in November, this is where we are now.  This is who we are now.

This is the country we’ve all built together, and this is what we’ll have to deal with together.

Yes, we should be afraid and embarrassed and disgusted right now.

But don’t look at Donald Trump, America—look in the mirror.

This is our mess.

Pavlovitz identifies something very important in our reading from Jeremiah.  The dreams of the false prophets only get traction when they speak to actual hopes and dreams.  The people of Jeremiah’s day would not have fallen for them or fallen down before them if they didn’t portray a reality they craved.  Neither do we in our day.  We are where we are because we have not wondered what God’s dream for the world might look like and when we have wondered we have found it to be not as appealing our own dreams.

I think it is in this context we can make sense of Jesus’ words in today’s gospel reading.  As we turn away from God’s dream and as we engage in behavior destructive to ourselves, Jesus responds not with kindness, but with fire.  He brings not peace, but division.  Those who seek after God’s dream and attempt to live into it will be as foreigners, sometimes even in their own family.   

When God first called Jeremiah God told him this: “Behold, I have put my words in your mouth.  See, I have this day set you over the nations and over the kingdoms, to root out and to pull down, to destroy and to throw down.”  Jeremiah has been very faithful in doing this to the best of his ability.  But God told him something else.  God said, “I am putting my words in your mouth and setting you over nations and kingdoms to build and to plant”.  For God, it was not enough to have a prophet who would point out all that was wrong.  God needed a prophet to point to what is good, to what can bring life, and to what can bring flourishing for all.

What Jeremiah sought to build up from the ruins and what he intended to plant was a message of hope and possibility:

  He taught God would bring a remnant back to Judah to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple.

  He said God would raise up a descendant of David to serve God and guide God’s people.

  He proclaimed God would reunite the northern and southern kingdoms of Israel so there might be a unified Kingdom of God.

  He promised God would heal the spiritual wounds of the people and restore the covenant.

We in the Christian tradition hold Jesus is the embodiment of Jeremiah’s hope.  We build with him and we plant with him because we find in him what God’s dream for all people looks like. 

Today’s reading from Hebrews lists a number of figures from the original covenant who looked to God in faith and hoped for a better day.  And then, in another one of those verses I had to memorize as a youth, writes: 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

The ‘therefore’ tells us this is the summery point of all the author has laid out before.  Because of all this… do the following: Lay aside sin.  Persevere.  Look to Jesus always.  Follow his example.

We are living in what feels like a weighty time.  My sense as we approach the 15^th Anniversary of 9/11 is many of us are contemplative.  We are wondering what we have done right as a nation and as a human family.  We are wondering what we have done wrong.  And we are wondering how we should move forward.  Today’s reading from Jeremiah reminds us how seductive some dreams can be and it reminds us how challenging it can be to get back on the path God has laid for us to walk.  I don’t know how real change – God’s dream – can begin other than it has to begin with me.  And it has to begin with you.

Wavering Faith

One of my favorite bible verses is found in the Book of Jeremiah, chapter 29, verse 11:

“I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for welfare and not calamity, to give you a future and a hope.”

It has instilled in me a belief that a generous God has a purpose for my life.  Even in the midst of difficulties and disappointments it fosters in me a sense I can trust in the goodness of life and be hopeful about what is to come.  At the core of who I am this is the essence of what I would call “my faith.”  It is not very complicated, really.  It is grounded in an idea and determines everything about how I live my life on a day-to-day basis.

This morning we read about Abraham – the bible’s exemplar of faith.  The Lord comes to him in a vision and says, “Do not be afraid.”  God seeks to dispel three fears.  The first is a fear of God: “Do not be afraid of Me!”  The second is a fear based on present circumstances: “I am your shield.”  The third is fear of what might happen in the future: “Your reward will be great.”  It is the third fear which vexes Abraham most.  He says to God, “It doesn’t matter what you will give me because I am childless.”  God promises Abraham’s descendants will be more numerous than the stars.  Abraham believes him.  He will move forward grounding his life on this promise. 

One biblical scholar states Abraham demonstrates his faith by trusting enough in the future God has planned that he quits trying to control the present.  This may be what faith looks like, but it is not exactly a picture of who Abraham is… at least not all the time.  Thirteen years will pass before old Abe and even older Sarah will be blessed with a son.  In the mean time, at different times, they will become impatient or anxious or puzzled and will hatch different plans to “control their present”.   

Harry Emerson Fosdick, the great preacher of the early 20^th Century, said this:

There are “three sorts of folk.  There are the utter disbelievers.  They will have none of religion.  It is to them superstition and credulity, and God is as much a myth as the devils of an African witch doctor.  But there are not many such.  There are the great believers, who have grown up into a luminous and convincing life with God like St. Theresa who said that in her heart she had an experience so beautiful that one drop of it, falling on hell, would turn it into Paradise.  But there are not many such.  Between these two groups are the masses of people.  They are not utter disbelievers and they are not glorious believers.  Their faith is hesitant, uncertain, unsatisfying, sporadic.  ‘Lord,’ they say, ‘I believe; help my unbelief.’”

I place myself firmly in the company of the masses.  At times, my faith in God’s plan for my well-being is hesitant, uncertain, unsatisfying, and sporadic.  I know I am not alone.  I sense most of you are with me.  Abraham is with us too. 

If faith looks like trusting enough in the future God promises to quit trying to control the present, then what does the opposite look like?  What does a lack of faith look like?  It can manifest itself in the classic form of worry or anxiety.  If God promises welfare, then worrying about what is to come is an expression of doubt. 

There is a more subtle way faithlessness reveals itself.  Doubting the welfare God plans can manifest itself through efforts to create what you think your welfare should look like.  “I will determine what is best for me and I will make it happen.”  Every self-destructive behavior is rooted in this single idea.  “I do not like where I am and I have no faith in where I am headed, so I will – you fill in the blank here: over-work, over-eat, over-drink, over-shop, self-medicate, become promiscuous…” 

Doubting in God’s promise for the future also can look like negativity about today.  Do you know someone who is always critical, for whom nothing is ever good enough?  Do you know a person for whom the glass is always half empty and the half that is there always tastes awful?  Do you ever find yourself thinking these kinds of thoughts?  They are signs your faith in God’s promised future is wavering. 

However, these are not signs you are a bad person.  They point to the simple truth that you are human.  We live with the tension of what God promises and what we experience.  Faith can be a challenge and along with death and taxes there is another certainty: if you have faith there will come a time when it will be tested.  

A sailor survived a shipwreck and washed up on the shore of a small, uninhabited island.  He prayed zealously for God to rescue him, but day after day passed and no help came.  As time went by he managed to collect enough driftwood to build a shelter that afforded him some protection against the elements.  One day he returned from scavenging for supplies and discovered his hut in flames with smoke billowing high into the sky.  Everything he had worked for was lost.  His faith in God was shattered and he cried out in anger, “How could you let this happen to me?  Why don’t you answer my prayers?”  He fell asleep that night on the beach, feeling as low as at any point in his life.  He was awaken early the morning by the sound of a ship’s horn.  How did they know he was there?  They saw the smoke from the shelter’s fire and decided to investigate.

We all get discouraged when things are not going our way.  It is so easy to lose heart, to get down, and to feel sorry for ourselves.  And there are times when no one can blame us for getting angry at God for the way things are.  When you are in a place like this always remember God’s promise to Abraham was not conditional in Abraham having an unwavering faith.  God’s promises rests in God alone.  There may be a time when your hut is on fire and you have reached the end of your rope.  Having faith in God’s goodness will be the last thing on your mind.  But God’s promise to you still holds, even if you can’t hold on to it at that moment. 

Jesus’ language in today’s reading from the gospel, with all of its be ready and stay alert imagery, hints at how easy it is to lose heart and to lose faith.  His message is basic: Get back in the game of life.  Do what you must do to right yourself.  Pray.  Worship.  Do something to help someone else.  God came to Abraham in a vision when he was childless.  You may not like where you are right now.  You may not like what looks to be in store for you down the road, but Jesus promises he will come to you and he promises his promise is will happen.

“I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for welfare and not calamity, to give you a future and a hope.”

Shepherding the Wind

This morning we read from the Book of Ecclesiastes – a truly amazing piece of literature.  Its author identifies himself as Qoheleth – Hebrew for “the teacher”, or one who speaks to an assembly.  Today we might call him a preacher.  Qoheleth’s wide-ranging sermon probes big questions about the meaning of life.  It is spellbindingly honest in its description and heartfelt in how it identifies our emotional response to all that happens to us.

Today he ponders all the work he is doing and all the effort he has put forth in life to make something of himself and wonders if it has been worthwhile or not.  “I must leave it to those who come after me,” he says, “and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?”  He despairs that those who have done nothing to earn it will benefit from his labors.  He considers whether all his hard work and even his restless nights have been for naught.  And, famously, he calls all of it “vanity”.  The effort, the despair, the worry about what others will do with what he will pass on to them – all of it is vanity.

Biblical scholars have written a great deal about what the word Hebrew hebel means.  It was the King James Bible that first translated it as ‘vanity’ and the word seems to have stuck.  But is the teacher’s understanding of vanity the same as ours?  Some suggest he means “meaningless.”  All of our toils are meaningless.  Others suggest futility or useless.  Hebel carries with it the sense of breath or vapor – things that are short-lived, transitory.  My favorite translation is “shepherding the wind” – an evocative image that, like our phrase “herding cats”, suggests we have set ourselves to an impossible task and pursuit. 

The teacher has spent his life trying to shepherd the wind.  Will he give up on this endeavor?  If so, what will take its place?

On 14^th of January in the year 1869, on what I can only assume was a very cold and snowy day, Agnes Davidson married Hugh Emerson in Potsdam, NY.  This bible may have been a gift they received or something they purchased for themselves. 

 

 

There is a beautiful certificate in it commemorating their marriage, which each signed.  The following pages record my family’s genealogical beginning with the names of their children, their dates of birth, and marriages.  The same information follows for their grandchildren, then great-grandchildren – my generation.  The information on the newest two generations is not up-to-date and needs tending.

 

Beyond needing updating and being large and heavy and falling apart, The Emerson Family Bible weighs on me for another reason.  It is in my possession because it has been passed down to the youngest male Emerson of each generation under the theory we would 1) outlive our brothers and 2) pass on our last name.  It weighs on me because I do not have a son with whom to entrust it.  I have only one male cousin and he does not have any children.  I look at this bible and realize the Emerson name passed down from Agnes and Hugh ends with me.  I don’t lose sleep about it, but it is something I carry with me.  And it is just one of the tangible ways I identify with the teacher and his sense of hebel.  Try as hard as I might, the wind eludes my efforts to shepherd it. 

What does letting the wind be the wind look like? 

In today’s gospel reading Jesus encounters a person who wants him to intercede in a family squabble.  He wants Jesus to instruct his brother to divide the family inheritance and give him half.  Jesus refuses to get involved, but uses the opportunity to issue a warning about greed.  He tells a parable about a person who keeps doing more and more, becoming wealthier and wealthier as time goes by, but has an impoverished soul.  He is not, as Jesus puts it, “rich toward God.”  His simple plan for life is to relax, eat, drink, and be merry.  What could go wrong with that?  Well, its Jesus' story so het gets to tell any way he wants to and so the man will die that very night and have nothing to show for his life because he spent it focused on the material and never once made an investment in the spiritual – in what will endure in the life to come.

Years ago I was present to hear an elderly bishop address a clergy gathering on the topic of retirement.  It changed my perspective on life in at least one way.  He described one challenge we clergy will face.  Clergy, he pointed out, are prone to collect many, many, many, many books over the years.  It is an occupational hazard for sure.  When he retired he moved all of his things out of his church office, including boxes and boxes and boxes of books.  He had lived all his life in houses provided by the churches he served so retirement also meant he and his wife had to find a place to live.  As they looked around he quickly realized there would be no room for the vast majority of his books.  Disposing of them created one of the biggest challenges of retirement and I have not bought a book since then that I didn’t think about the bishop’s talk.  All the stuff of my life eventually will need to go somewhere where I can’t take it.

Jesus highlights how our material possessions are not who we are and someday will become a burden to how we move forward in life.  And yet they can be all we work for.  They become our heart’s desire and the focus of all we are about.  Bigger and bigger.  More and more.  Better and better.  Did you know you can now buy a refrigerator with a camera inside you can access from your smart phone?  Is it really that hard to remember you need to buy some milk when you are at the grocery store? 

In Jesus’ parable God calls the man building bigger barns a ‘fool’, which is not exactly how I hope to hear God address me.  But in truth, most of us come to this realization on our own somewhere down the road of life.  Why did I buy all these books?  What was I thinking when I spent thousands of dollars for an appliance I could see on my iPhone?  Look at all this stuff I have accumulated.  Does any of it mean anything? 

Should we be invested in future generations?   Should we focus on building wealth and material possessions?  Today’s readings raise questions as contemporary as our very lives.

I have always been fascinated with Erik Erikson’s work on developmental tasks associated with each of life’s stages and I find his thinking to be a helpful lens through which to examine today’s readings.  Erikson labeled the major developmental challenge during the ages of 45-65 ‘generativity v. stagnation.’  Generativity is a marked “concern for establishing and guiding the next generation… It is a matter of caring for whatever is being generated, attending to its nurture and growth… It involves a continuing emotional investment in what is being generated.”  For those of us in this age range our on-going work is to contribute to the common good rather than to retreat from it (an action Erikson labels “stagnation”). 

Do you hear in today’s reading how the teacher is weighing generativity and stagnation?  Erikson would say he is making the shift to the final developmental stage in life, which typically begins around the time one turns 65.  He labels this challenge ‘integrity v. despair.’  By integrity Erikson means the following:

· Being faithful to the image-bearers of the past.

· Accepting your place in the life cycle.

· Accepting the people who have played a significant role in your life – for good or for ill.

· Accepting responsibility for how your life has turned out.

Despair, on the other hand, arises when a person is unable to accept that life is too short to go back and “get it right.”  Because time no longer permits one to “start over”, we are tempted to surrender to deep feelings of regret.  Such despair, one author writes, is “often hidden behind a show of disgust… or a chronic contemptuous displeasure with particular institutions and particular people – a disgust and displeasure which [ultimately]… signify the individual’s contempt for himself.”

So, rather than shepherding wind or building bigger barns, Erikson suggests that the vast swath of our adult years involves a continued giving of ourselves to others and to life.  It is a project of producing what you are passionate about; “caring” and “emotional investment”.  And, it is about accepting who you are and who you are not; about accepting what you have done and what you have not been able to do.  It is about accepting yourself for who you are and not defining yourself by the winds you could not shepherd.  It is about locating your life in principles bigger than yourself; timeless principles not bound to our current age. 

St. Paul describes it as “as seeking the things that are above, where Christ is” and knowing your life is “hidden in Christ.”  Contrast this with the person in Jesus’ parable who “thinks [only] to himself”, and speaks only in the first person singular: “I will tear down”, “I will build”, “I will store”, and “I will say to my soul”.   When the only conversation you have is with yourself, how startling must it be to hear the voice of God speak to you, especially if God says “You fool!”?

So, about my family bible.  Here is what I am thinking of doing.  The idea that the youngest son of the youngest son must pass it along to his youngest son is arbitrary at best, burdensome at worst, and more than a tad sexist.  What matters about it is that we decedents of Agnes and Hugh know from where we have come.  What matters is how this bible connects us together and across generations.  I need to get the information up to date and talk with my siblings, cousins, nephews, and nieces to see who would like to carry this task forward and to see how we might make this bible common to all and not just a possession of mine.  As opposed to shepherding wind, this seems both manageable and meaningful.  Thank you, teacher, for your sermon.  In this small way I have learned how to let go of shepherding the wind.

Reminding God to do the Right Thing!

Jack Miles’ book, God: A Biography, was first released in 1996.  In it he examines what the bible says about God through a very specific lens; not one used by a theologian to ponder lofty ideas or one used by a historian to check for accuracy and verifiable details, but a lens used by a literary critic to ask how God as a character is developed as the story unfolds.  Such an approach is not easy to take, says Miles, because of our tendency to read into every chapter the knowledge of God we already have from episodes in the bible’s future.  When you first read a book, attend a play, or watch a movie, each character develops from scene to scene as more and more information and insight is shared.  But if you have read the book before, already attended the play, or are seen the movie multiple times, you bring to each scene all that you have learned about a character from previous readings, performances, or showings.

So, according to Miles, when we hear today’s reading from the Book of Genesis, which occurs only 18 chapters into the bible, we bring to it everything we know of God from the Exodus and the Psalms and the prophets and the Gospels and the writings of Paul and the Book of Revelation.  Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing, but Miles wanted to explore what the bible tells us about God if we approach it as an unfolding work of literature.

And what he sees in these early chapters of Genesis is a depiction of God who calls forth creation and then creates human beings not for company and not to receive worship, but to be an image of God’s own self.  Initially, human beings express this image chiefly through procreation and productivity.  The effort, as you no doubt know, sours quickly with the story of the apple, Cain slaying his brother, and a general state of wickedness that culminates with the flood where only Noah and his family are saved. 

God, as a literary character, always seems to be surprised by these turn of events; caught off guard by human behavior, if you will, and placed in a position of having to respond ‘on the fly.’  This is not the picture of St. Paul’s God who, from before the beginning of time, has been working out a cosmic plan of salvation.  It is a picture of God with strong feelings for creation that swing between passionate love and deep regret.

And at this point in the story’s development we come to Abraham – a person God deems as righteous.  It is during this act when Abraham’s character is on the stage that we read today’s Old Testament lesson.  God “hears” of the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah, but must see in person whether it is true or not.

Now, it might be worth noting how, in the Book of Genesis, God’s character appears on stage in ways that are different from the acts that follow.  Here God visits Abraham in the form of three men who are in fact angels who somehow are God.  The men leave for the notorious cities in order to discern what has been going on and Abraham is left standing with God in conversation.  Believe me, at this point, it is refreshing to read the Bible as literature rather than theology (where you have to make sense of what it means) or as history (where you have to figure out how it actually happened).

Abraham posses a very simple question: “Suppose the men down there are as wicked as you have heard.  Will you sweep away the righteous just to get rid of the wicked?”  “What if there are 50 righteous people?  45?  40?  30?  20?  10?”  Finally God seems to tire of Abraham’s line of questioning and simply walks away.  But in the process Abraham has born the image of God; an image yet to be revealed in the literary development.  Abraham reminds God that God is just, measured, and merciful.

All in all, I think it is fair to characterize the conversation between Abraham and God as being a forerunner to prayer, but it does not look much like the kind of prayer we offer this morning or that I, for one, typically pray.  In worship we offer collects and Eucharistic liturgy.  They are reasoned, articulate, and adoring expressions of our gratitude, our intercession, and our awe.  My own personal prayers tend to offer loved ones to God’s care and keeping.  What I ask for them and for myself is the strength and ability to accept all that comes our way.  But Abraham’s prayer is different.  It is more akin to a debate and in this debate Abraham gets the better of God. 

At the very least, Abraham assumes the future has yet to be determined and even if God is bent on going down a particular path God still can be persuaded to change course and move in a different direction.  I grew up in a faith setting that saw God as sitting beyond time and time itself was something like a giant movie.  For us, we live in the moment; seeing only the particular image as it is being played out on the screen of human history.  But for God the film is unrolled and every image is laid out beginning to end before God.  This perspective creates a spiritual challenge.  How and why should one pray?  If the next scene is already set then what is the point of praying for anything other to happen?  Within this spirituality the most effective prayer, and perhaps the most pleasing prayer to God, is “Thy will be done” – “As you wish” – “Let it happen.” 

Think how differently Abraham approaches God early in the human drama: “God, let’s talk about what is going to happen next because I have a few ideas on the matter.”  And through this prayer Abraham is able to convince God to act in a way different from what God intends.  This perspective on God and prayer gives a unique and empowering emphasis to the teaching Jesus offers to His followers, “Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.” 

Why should you pray?  If you ask someone who conceives of God as being like the person with the entire film rolled out before him, he will tell you to pray because God likes it when you ask… even though it won’t change the outcome.  But if you were to ask Abraham, he would tell you to pray because it makes a difference in how things unfold.  “Sometimes,” he might say, “God needs to be reminded to do the right thing.”

Now, I am not suggesting (nor does Jack Miles suggest) that we view God as being only a literary figure or as being only like the literary figure of the early Genesis stories.  Holy Scripture provides a multi-faceted image of God who is, among other things, both immutable and open to change.  What I am suggesting is that in our prayer life we have permission, though I personally do not often take advantage of it often, to approach God with very specific, concrete proposals and ideas:

Ask: Lord, my friend is in the hospital following a massive heart attack and his daughter is going to be married in two weeks.  Will you, who hears the cries of all, please grant him relief and make it possible for him to be at the wedding.

Seek: Lord, my brother has caused me much harm that he can neither see nor acknowledge.  Will you please teach me how to confront him that he might amend his life and not do wrong to others as he has done wrong to me.

Knock: Lord, so many innocent people are dying on the streets of our country and hatred and violence are on the rise.  Please watch over us and send forth your Holy Spirit to impart peace, respect, and understanding.

Today’s readings invite us to embolden our prayers, believing the future is open and God is interested in our input.