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“Wilderness Road to the Promised Land”

Rev. Katherine Todd
Exodus 16:2-15
Philippians 1:21-30

 

Exodus 16:2-15

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.” So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “In the evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against us?” And Moses said, “When the Lord gives you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord has heard the complaining that you utter against him—what are we? Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.”

Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, ‘Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.’” And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’”

In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.

 

Philippians 1:21-30

For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which I prefer. I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. Since I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, so that I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus when I come to you again.

Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents. For them this is evidence of their destruction, but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well— since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Israelites have escaped the prison of their temporary home in Egypt.  They have become free!  And that means change, A LOT of change.

 

Though they were enslaved, oppressed, and beaten down, they did have food to eat.
Food fueled the Egyptian labor-force.

And these Israelites do not remember what it is like to be free.  They have acclimated.  They have adapted.  They have their comforts, their routines, their simple pleasure – all of which have been uprooted with this run for freedom.

 

The new generations only know enslavement, so they’ve not gotten to exercise their muscles of self-will, of self-determination, and perhaps of self-respect.  Instead of plotting their own journey, they’ve been going along, following the orders of another.

And so this unimagined freedom now calls on them to grow in ways they may have become weak.  They must forage their own food, build their own dwellings, set their own course.  And if they fail to do so, they will be hungry, they will be thirsty, …they may starve.

And these are precisely their complaints to Moses as they journey through the wilderness.  There is no water.  They are thirsty!  The water is bitter.  They are thirsty!  This miss meat.  They are hungry! 

 

And they start to reminisce back to their days of enslavement in Egypt.  THERE they at least had meat.  Better to die a slave, eating meat, than to starve a free soul, they complain.

 

 

And it strikes me, that as we venture into the unknown territory of freedom, we encounter risks, unknowns, fears, and discomforts.  But if we do not venture into freedom, we will surely die, never having lived.  For what is living, if it is not freedom?!

And I think of our journey as a church of God.

 

We see the path by which we came.  Those who came before built this gorgeous sanctuary at a time when churches were busting at the seams in America.  The wars had ceased, the people had returned to faith and family, and babies were being born.  There was a faith in the church, a faith in organizations, a faith in institutions.  And so we came to this point:  education rooms were built to teach the children, youth, and adults about Jesus.  And this large and lovely sanctuary replaced our beautiful first sanctuary – now the fellowship hall.

We can see the path by which we came.   Just as the Israelites came to Egypt at a critical time – to survive famine and to thrive amidst it all – we came to this place because the times demanded it.

But just as the Israelite’s situation continued to evolve until they were enslaved to the Egyptians, we too have continued to change until we have become enslaved to our own building.  It’s simply far too big and aged and exquisite for our small band to easily maintain.  And so we are compelled to look toward a different future.  We must change or face our eventual death.

 

Like the Israelites, we sit at the brink – our food in hand, dressed, shoes on, ready to go.  We have been researching and preparing, praying and discerning in order to envision the pathway forward for our blessed congregation.

And we do not see the path ahead.  We can only see what came before.

And we are uncomfortable.  For in stepping out into the unknown – in negotiating with potential renters and partners in mission and ministry – we lose our sense of control.  We cannot predict next moves.  We do not yet know where our provision, our water, our food, our provision will come from.  And we grow anxious.

 

And we too start to grumble and complain: If we could just keep doing what we’ve always done, at least we’d be comfortable, but now God, have you brought us out here, that we may perish in the wilderness?  …In the places of discomfort and unknown?

God are you bringing us out in order to smite us more quickly?

God, if we’d just kept going as we were, we would die, but at least we’d die singing our favorite hymns…

 

Does this feel at all relevant?  Does it touch on some of our experiences?

 

Transitions are extraordinarily difficult, especially for some of us.  It often comes down to how we’re wired.  Uncertainties can feel intolerably risky.  Loss of control can feel like a death.

Transitions are hard. 

 

…And yet God calls us out.
God calls us out of darkness and into the light.
God is calling us out of death and into life.

 

And that life together will be different.
It will take time to build up and tear down.
It will take planning and starting.  …Stopping and revising and starting again.  …Over and over.

 

Like the Israelites, we will reach places where we cannot see a path forward, where death feels imminent.  But when its God doing the calling, God doing the inviting, God doing the freeing, God provides.  But not before we complain.  And not always before our discomforts and fear.

 

And so we have choices – to trust or to doubt.  Is God leading us?  And if God is, can we trust God?

We have choices – to trust one another or to doubt.  Do we believe that where two or more are gathered in God’s name that God is there too?

We have choices – do we believe that God is using ALL things for good?  Even our individual and collective mistakes?

We have choices – do we believe that God will continue to direct and redirect us as we take faithful steps?  Are we tuning our ears to hear that still small voice saying, “This is the way.  Walk in it.”

 

 

And so, as we follow God out of the land of the familiar, the land of comfort, and the land of our eventual or sudden death,…will we trust?  Will we trust God and one another?

Will we trust God for our provision – even when we cannot yet see it on the horizon?

Will we trust God to meet our needs – providing familiar comforts, even as we journey outside the lines of our narrow worlds?

 

Do we believe that God is doing a work among us?

 

For if we do, then the invitation is to follow. 

 

The Israelites were blessed, in order to BE a blessing!  They were to be a city on a hill, a light in the darkness.  THROUGH THEM, the whole world would be blessed!  That was God’s plan.  But they couldn’t do it enslaved in Egypt.
They had to step out.
They had to journey through wilderness.
And God would indeed bless them and make them a blessing! 

 

Will we continue to step out?
Will we continue to release control?
Will we choose trust?

 

We cannot follow God if we refuse to move.
We cannot follow God if we refuse to grow, to be changed.
We cannot follow God if we are enslaved…to sin, to fear, to dissension, … or even to our building.
We cannot follow God if we’re intent on being the Leader and not the follower.
We cannot hold the reigns of control AND follow God.

 

But for those who follow,
Who venture into the unknown,
Who choose radical trust and work to build a new way of life,
There is miracle and wonder, halleluia’s and praise the Lord’s,
There is hard-won peace, provision, milk & honey…

 

THIS is the legacy of God’s children. 

Will we follow God boldly into the wilderness unknown? 

 

 

 

“Loudly He Wept”

Rev. Katherine Todd
Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32
Genesis 45:1-15

 

Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32

I ask then: Did God reject his people? By no means! I am an Israelite myself, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribe of Benjamin.  God did not reject his people, whom he foreknew.

…for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable. Just as you who were at one time disobedient to God have now received mercy as a result of their disobedience, so they too have now become disobedient in order that they too may now receive mercy as a result of God’s mercy to you. For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy on them all.

 

Genesis 45:1-15

Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “Have everyone leave my presence!” So there was no one with Joseph when he made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard him, and Pharaoh’s household heard about it.

Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph! Is my father still living?” But his brothers were not able to answer him, because they were terrified at his presence.

Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.

“So then, it was not you who sent me here, but God. He made me father to Pharaoh, lord of his entire household and ruler of all Egypt. Now hurry back to my father and say to him, ‘This is what your son Joseph says: God has made me lord of all Egypt. Come down to me; don’t delay. You shall live in the region of Goshen and be near me—you, your children and grandchildren, your flocks and herds, and all you have. I will provide for you there, because five years of famine are still to come. Otherwise you and your household and all who belong to you will become destitute.’

“You can see for yourselves, and so can my brother Benjamin, that it is really I who am speaking to you. Tell my father about all the honor accorded me in Egypt and about everything you have seen. And bring my father down here quickly.”

Then he threw his arms around his brother Benjamin and wept, and Benjamin embraced him, weeping. And he kissed all his brothers and wept over them. Afterward his brothers talked with him.


 

What goodness can follow atrocity.  What healing can come after grave injury.  What morning light can dawn after fierce storms.

 

Here we witness the reunion of these brothers, from one Father and several different mothers.  It is a reunion none of them saw coming…or not exactly.  These brothers had betrayed their own humanity, selling their own brother Joseph to traders to be a slave.  But in a strange and twisted yet truthful kind of way, we can be grateful that they brothers had chosen to sell him over killing him, which was their first instinct.

You see they hated him.  He said things.  Unwise things.

God filled young Joseph with dreams and visions.  And naïve or unfiltered or autistic or perhaps boastful as he was (…we do not know why), he spoke these dreams aloud, no filter, sharing them with his family.  And they did not take kindly to these visions – for Joseph dreamed that he would rule over his brothers and whole family.

It was unsettling.

 

I have wished he’d paused a moment to assess and to reconsider sharing these dreams.  I wonder if he even perceived how it would be taken by his siblings.  Did he sense their anger and resentment?  Did he not anticipate their jealousy over the favor his father showed him?

And why did Joseph share the 2nd time?  He shared one time, and I imagine that couldn’t have gone well.  So when he had yet another of these dreams, why did he share it yet again?

I do not know.

My heart breaks for him.

 

Can you imagine the emotional trauma?  Talk about post-traumatic-stress!
Can you imagine the betrayal?  Can you imagine the sense of abandonment?

What scars Joseph must have carried.  What fears he must have had to live with.

 

He was a good worker and advanced in his servant role to a man named Potiphar, but alas, Potiphar’s wife took interest in him, and when her advances were shunned she decided to slander Joseph – accusing him of violating her.

And thus, Joseph is thrown into yet another hole.  This time it isn’t an abandoned well – meant to hold him until his murder by family.  It isn’t the abandoned well that ended up being his holding cell before being sold to strangers and taken away from all he knew and everyone he held dear.  No, this time it was an actual cell, the hole of prison, and he stayed there for a long, long time, falsely accused, with no justice.

 

Some among us truly endure far more pain and loss than others of us.  Some of us FEEL more pain in our experiences than others.  And some have hardened the walls of their hearts to protect them from these painful moments, years, and lifetimes.

Joseph was one who endured more than he ever should have had to.

Even if he was boastful or proud, sharing his dreams and visions…
Even though his father favored him above the others…
Even if he was unwise in sharing his dreams…

It doesn’t matter.  None of this should have stripped him of home and family and freedom.

…and for SO long.

 

Yet this is Joseph’s story.

 

And when his brothers begin journeying to Egypt to buy grain – after Joseph’s interpretation of dreams has finally freed him from prison and placed him even over Pharaoh’s entire household that he might lead the nation in surviving the coming years of great famine – these brothers have no idea they will see their brother.  They have no idea where he is.  They do not know whether he is dead or alive.  He was probably the last person they ever expected to see again.

And can you imagine Joseph’s feelings upon seeing them?

You’ll see he first tests his brothers.  He puts them in compromised situations in order to see how they will handle themselves.  He wants to be sure that his younger brother Benjamin – his only full-blooded brother – is not being mistreated as well.  He wants to know who his brothers have become.

And when he experiences their changed hearts, he is broken open with grief released and gladness.  He is overcome, such that he can no longer hold back, but weeps so loudly that all of Pharaoh’s house hear it.

 

I have long loved this story.  It may be my favorite in the Bible.  But what I am moved by today is Joseph’s release.  He can no longer hold in his feelings.  They all come tumbling out.  Finally.

And furthermore, I wonder if his dreams came back to mind.  Did he remember his celestial dream, where his family bowed before him, …now that they are all bowing before him?  Could any of them have foreseen the path Joseph would walk to get to this point?  Could any of them have foreseen how their own actions would be woven by God into a tapestry of goodness and life?  Could any have imagined how, what was intended for evil, God used for great good?  And here Joseph is, choosing to see his life, not as a victim but as a messenger, sent ahead of them by God, to save lives.

 

I tend to have visions of an end but no idea as to how to get there.  Like Joseph, I am left wondering what it all means, as none of it yet seems true.  And I’ve long wondered why God does this.  Why does God give me vision?

Sometimes, especially when I am in the pits of life, I can resent these visions because they seem so far-fetched.  I can get discouraged.

But God is faithful.
Whatever God says, is true. 

If God says something will be, then it will be.  And God can use whatever comes, to get there.  We can work with God or against God.  Those are our choices.

 

Joseph chose to trust his dreams and visions.  God showed him, over and over again that they were true.  He was leading an entire nation in preparing for a major time of famine – based solely on a dream…a dream

And yet, to this point, he had not yet seen his earliest dreams come true…

Until

Now.

 

God speaks to each one of us, in different ways.

Some dream dreams.
Some interpret.
Some have visions.
Some interpret.
Some perceive the end.
Some perceive the path.

But God is speaking.
And God is trustworthy. 

 

May we have the courage and audacity

To follow our dreams – the visions God plants in our hearts –
And to believe that God is indeed working ALL things for good
For those who love God
And are called according to God’s purposes.
For God is the primary actor in this play.
God is using it all to save lives. 

God is working God’s purposes out.

Will we trust God’s call,
and join in the work? 

 


 

PRAYERS   

                                                                       (Iona Abby WB)
Creator Spirit, wellspring of our lives,
as the refreshing rain falls on the just and unjust alike
refresh us with your mercy, who knows our own injustice.
As the stream flows steadily on, defying all the odds of stone and water,
flow over every boundary and border that separates us from each other.
As the waters of our baptism washed us and welcomed us
renew us now in newness of life and unity of love.
As we were once held in the waters of our mother’s womb,
hold us now in the power and peace of your abiding presence. 

                                                                        (Richard J. Foster)
Today I accept your acceptance of me.
I confess that you are always with me and always for me.
I receive into my spirit your grace, your mercy, your care.
I rest in your love, O Lord.  I rest in your love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

BLESSING                                            (Vienna Cobb Anderson)

The blessing of God,

whose love reconciles all who are divided,

be with you

as you seek to heal the brokenness

around you.

“Unimaginable”

Rev. Katherine Todd
Psalm 17
Matthew 14:13-21

 

Psalm 17

Hear me, Lord, my plea is just;
listen to my cry.
Hear my prayer—
it does not rise from deceitful lips.
Let my vindication come from you;
may your eyes see what is right.

Though you probe my heart,
though you examine me at night and test me,
you will find that I have planned no evil;
my mouth has not transgressed.
Though people tried to bribe me,
I have kept myself from the ways of the violent
through what your lips have commanded.
My steps have held to your paths;
my feet have not stumbled.

I call on you, my God, for you will answer me;
turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.
Show me the wonders of your great love,
you who save by your right hand
those who take refuge in you from their foes.
Keep me as the apple of your eye;
hide me in the shadow of your wings
from the wicked who are out to destroy me,
from my mortal enemies who surround me.

They close up their callous hearts,
and their mouths speak with arrogance.
They have tracked me down, they now surround me,
with eyes alert, to throw me to the ground.
They are like a lion hungry for prey,
like a fierce lion crouching in cover.

Rise up, Lord, confront them, bring them down;
with your sword rescue me from the wicked.
By your hand save me from such people, Lord,
from those of this world whose reward is in this life.
May what you have stored up for the wicked fill their bellies;
may their children gorge themselves on it,
and may there be leftovers for their little ones.

As for me, I will be vindicated and will see your face;
when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness.

 

Matthew 14:13-21

When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”

Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

“Bring them here to me,” he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.


 

Imagine this scenario.

Jesus receives news of what has befallen his cousin John, who he later says is Elijah returned.  In gross human tragedy, jealousy, lust, power, shame, revenge, and the needless shedding of blood, John is beheaded – his head delivered on a silver platter to Herod’s niece-now-daughter-in-law.

 

Can you begin to imagine such evil perpetrated against your cousin?  Against someone doing such good and proclaiming truth and justice?

This is where Jesus finds himself – in need of rest, in need of quiet, in need of solitude.

And so they deliberately leave by boat, as quietly as they can.  They head to a remote place.  But the people – yearning for healing, seeking help and guidance and wisdom – they have followed him from the shore, on foot.  And now this usually remote area is filled to the brim, teaming, with people – parent and child, sick and well, men and women and people of every dimension.

Jesus lands only to find a large crowd.

 

I would have been angry at the people, I imagine.  I might have broken down in tears of exhaustion and grief.  I might have instructed the disciples to just keep on going and going – anywhere but there.

But Jesus sees them, and even through the eyes of his grief, he has compassion on them.  And he begins his sacred work, his holy work of healing the sick.

 

As evening approaches, everyone gets a little more restless.  It is mealtime, and there are no provisions, no homes and families or town there.  How shall they all eat?

So the disciples begin to encourage Jesus to send the crowd away.  Perhaps if they go now, they can make it to villages to find food for themselves.  The disciples know that the people will keep waiting their turn to be touched by Jesus’ hand, to be beheld in Jesus’ eyes, to receive and cherish his words.  They have traveled long.  They are tired and hungry.  But the waiting is worth it.

But Jesus does not respond reasonably. 

A reasonable person would come to the same conclusion.

A reasonable person would assess the scenario:

  • No food there to purchase
  • No food there to harvest
  • No money to buy food even if it was nearby
  • AND 5000 men + women and children
  • = bad news

 

This kind of assessment is important, is it not?

It’s how we live and don’t starve.

It’s how we work out housing and transportation and work.

The need to eat is vital and central.  Most other things revolve around it.  Most other things support this one critical human need.

Jesus knows they are a large crowd of deities or super-humans.  Jesus knows they must eat.  Jesus knows the situation.  Jesus knows human vulnerability and temptation.  Jesus remembers they are each made of dust.

 

And yet, Jesus tells the disciples give them something to eat (the CROWD, that is – some 5000+++ people).

I’m pretty sure that if Jesus and his disciples packed a dinner at all, it was likely meant to serve only 13-20, perhaps.  They were expecting a solitary camp, not a coliseum’s-worth of people on shore.

 

Have you ever been in such a scenario?

 

I love camping.  But there are many kinds of camping in this world.

There is the camping that Jesus and his disciples had expected to do – likely laying underneath the stars and cooking fish over the fire.

There is camping my sister and brother-in-law like to do:  carrying everything they need, carefully weighed and planned – on their backs for days or weeks of hiking in the wilderness.

There is camping like Incy’s brother and family enjoy:  where they park RV’s together, decked out with every imagined convenience.

And there is camping I am accustomed to:  car camping.  Whatever fits into the car can come:  a tent, a tarp, cooking gear, sleeping bag, handsaw, matches, pots and pans.  This is how my mother gave us the experience of traveling around the whole united states one summer.  It was crazy and empowering…and magical.

When I shop, I make lists.  When I organize my work, I make lists.  And when I camp, I make a list.  I actually keep a running list – to help with things I might forget between camping trips.  I try to think of everything:  what if it rains the whole time, what if the wood is too wet, what if everything we have gets soaked, and on and on.

For campers like Incy’s brother there is a term:  Glamper.  It means glamorous camper!

For campers like me – there is no term – so she made up one:  Pramper.  It means prepared camper.

 

That is me.
That is how I feel most comfortable operating in the world.

 

I like having everything on ready.  I like to know where everything is – extremely organized.  I organize my snack basket on any road trip so very carefully that I can reach back & easily find most things I want, without turning my head to look.

I am distressed by disorganization.  I feel stressed when my environment is cluttered or unkept.

Basically, I like being prepared in every area of life.

 

But as you might imagine, it hasn’t worked for me very well.  Not only did life throw more curve balls than I could ever imagine, but I have had to walk into the unknown, which I do not like.  I am naturally that person who likes to sit quietly at the back of the room – to study people, to listen, to observe.  I don’t want to say anything embarrassing.  I don’t want to say anything inaccurate.  I want to gauge the room.  I want to think a lot before I speak.

But I’ve had to deviate from my comfort.  I have felt God calling me to speak up – and have churned inside until I obey.  I like to follow, but God keeps calling me out – to speak out, to share vision, to invite others into greater discipleship.

I have had to leave the places of my security and preparedness in order to be obedient to the Spirit of God and in order to love those God calls me to love. 

 

Funny how others don’t walk my plans very well.  Funny how they seem to sabotage my expectations, over and over.  Funny…

What’s truly funny is that I thought I could “control” others.
What’s funny is that I thought I should “control” others.
What’s funny is that I tried to “control” others.

 

And it never worked; in the end it wasn’t loving.

I could not both love and respect others

AND

Control them.

 

And even when I tried to hide my intentions, they could always feel it.
It created wedges.
It seeded mistrust.

 

And I was faced with the call to truly let go of my security blanket.

 

I was called to follow God in faith – not chart out the entire passageway. 

Like Lewis and Clark, I prepare for everything I can foresee.  But then when the rivers no longer take me forward and mountains loom ahead, I have to look around me, I have to listen, I have to humble myself in collaboration and prayer, and I have to step out into the unknown – making it up as we go.

 

And this has been a massive journey in my life:  this journey from my natural prepared – play-it-safe positioning INTO a trusting of God in the process, a trusting of those with whom I take this journey, and a trusting of myself.

And this is HARD because as you know, Jesus was crucified.  Bad things DO HAPPEN to good people.  Jesus Christ is not insurance for the good life but actually told us we would suffer.

This trust has been hard won. 
But it has been life to me.

 

I have had to flee from control like an addictive substance, because it has been that to me. 

And this new experiment of faith – this experience of letting go and letting God – has been absolute LIFE and HOPE and JOY and SURPRISE and LOVE to me.

 

Through the years of heartache along my journey of discovery and learning to let go and to trust, I accepted that there will always be factors out of my control.  And that as scary as that feels, that is also hopeful, because God is ever doing a new thing.  And what we have today will be different from what we have tomorrow.

We cannot accurately assess the future because we do not yet have, all that we will have, at that time.

We cannot accurately assess the future because we do not yet have, all that we will have, when the time comes.

Someone else more eloquently said, “You cannot solve tomorrow’s problems with today’s answers.” 

 

Jesus knew this.
Jesus know of more resources than any others could perceive, moment to moment.

 

Did he physically multiply the loaves and fish to feed that enormous crowd?

Some have suggested that the miracle may have been one of sharing.

You know the idea of stone soup, do you not?  The host says, “Come on over.  I’m making soup.  Bring whatever you have to put in the pot.”  And as each guest come, carrots are added, potatoes, celery, some chicken…and eventually it is a wholesome, nourishing soup – even though the host only had water and a stone in the pot to start with.

Might the miracle have been that everyone shared?  That everyone let go of their precious food to share with others?

 

Perhaps.  That would be miracle – in their day or in ours!

 

I do not know how Jesus did it.  But whether the miracle performed was in the hearts and hands of the individuals such that they opened themselves to share with one another OR Jesus in his power turned two fish into twenty thousand, I believe Jesus CAN do that.

I believe.

 

There are many lessons we will glean from this account in our lifetimes.  But today may we be attentive to Christ’s provision – unexpected, unimagined, unfathomable, yet delivered right on time. 

 

And as Christ’s disciples long ago, may we – Christ’s disciples here and now – leave room for the unexpected.  May we not limit the possibilities of what can be by what we already see or what has been.  For our God is still creating.  Our God is still providing.  Our God is still renewing and remaking all things.  And we cannot yet imagine the miracles and visions God will make reality, in us and through us. 

 

Thanks be to God!!

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

PRAYERS

Henri Nouwen (1932-1996)

I keep projecting my present condition onto the future.  If I feel dark, the future looks dark.  If I feel bright, the future looks bright.  But who am I to know what life will be like for me tomorrow, next week, next year, or ten years from now?  Even more, who am I to know who you will be for me in the year ahead?  O Lord, I will not bind you with my own limited and limiting ideas and feelings.  You can do so many things with me, things that might seem totally impossible to me.  I want at least to remain open to the free movement of your Spirit in my life.  Why do I keep saying to myself:  “I will never be a saint.  I will never be able to overcome my impulses and desires.”  If I keep saying that, I might prevent you from healing and touching me deeply.  O Lord, let me remain free to let you come, whenever and however you desire.

Chippewa Song

Sometimes I go about pitying myself
While I am being carried by the wind across the sky.

Denise Levertov (1923-1997)

As swimmers dare to life face to the sky and waters bears them,
As hawks rest upon air and air sustains them,
So would I learn to attain freefall,
And float into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
Knowing no effort earns that all-surrounding grace.

 

 

 

“My Refuge and My Fortress, My God in Whom I Trust”

Rev. Katherine Todd
Psalm 91:1-6, 9
1 Peter 4:12-14 and 5:6-11

 

Psalm 91:1-6, 9

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;
my God, in whom I trust.”
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence;
he will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
or the arrow that flies by day,
or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
or the destruction that wastes at noonday.

Because you have made the Lord your refuge,
the Most High your dwelling place,

 

1 Peter 4:12-14 and 5:6-11

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory, which is the Spirit of God, is resting on you.

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you. Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering. And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever. Amen.


 

This passage from 1 Peter feels strangely relevant. The world of today is vastly different from the world into which these words were written, but still we hear God speaking through the text and into our own stories.

Right now, many of us are working through incredible anxiety.  And it’s not that kind of anxiety of an imagined threat.  The threat is real.  Covid-19 is real.  300,000 people in the world dead from a virus only half a year old (in humans) is real.

The writer of 1 Peter gives this advice:

1 – Humble yourselves

2 – Casts your anxieties on God

3 – Discipline yourselves

4 – Resist the devil

 

Humility doesn’t feel at all relevant to our situation today, but on closer inspection, I see its wisdom.

That December when we discovered bed bugs in our home, I hit a new low.  Already overcoming obstacles, already beating the odds, already working overtime, already emotionally and physically exhausted, the life-altering presence of one itty-bitty bug rocked my world.  All my clothing & all fabrics and linens had to be washed, dried, and bagged.  The closest washer and dryers were a block away.  All furniture was to be moved 4 feet away from every wall.  But alas, the rooms were too small for that!  The pest company came to treat and then surprised me with the instruction as they left that I should remain in this state of upheaval for another 2 weeks.  If I was still getting bit after that, they would return for another treatment.  And two weeks after that…the same.  What I thought was a one day upheaval became a two week upheaval became a 4 week upheaval became a 6 week upheaval.  I caught sixty some bugs within that time, as they kept multiplying, and I learned how to catch them in the dead of night.

I lived with the uncertainty of not knowing where they’d come from.  It made me suspicious of everything & everyone & everywhere I’d been.  I lived with the anxiety of somehow carrying them to another person, place, or household.  How did they even operate?  What was the science?  How did I even make an informed decision?  And I lived with the complication of living out of bags for a month and a half – my furniture and rooms all discombobulated, a pile of bags of clothes in the living room floor…at Christmas.

It was my first Christmas in my new apartment, and I longed for it to feel like home.  I knew nothing makes a place a home like shared memories with family and friends, so my family had plans to come and celebrate Christmas at our place.  And then this happened.  And all our plans were to the wind.  I couldn’t even trust passing a gift to family or friends, without fear I’d also pass them the plague.

 

And in a Covid-19 context, I am surprised how similar the experiences are:  our routines are upheaved, our ways of being are being re-written, we cannot gather with others for fear of passing on illness or catching it ourselves, we cannot even shop for new clothes in a store, and our calendars and plans are all suspended indefinitely.

But of course, this time it is on a much grander scale.

And the stakes are higher:  I’ve not heard of anyone dying of bed bugs (though it certainly could be possible).

 

But that moment in which I felt I touched bottom – was through a long night of losing my dinner in the bathroom.  And in touching the bottom, I was able to push off and back upward, toward the light.  In that moment I reflected on how often I’d been this sick:  it had been rare.  I realized that my health was a gracious gift of God.  My health was a gift I’d never before paid much attention to.  I’d taken it for granted.  I realized that things could get MUCH worse than bed bugs.  I realized that things could be much more grave than a stomach illness.  And I was humbled, lying on the bathroom floor.  Every gift of God that I had enjoyed was truly a gift.  I’d not deserved them.  I wasn’t entitled to them.  And instead of complaining and bemoaning my situation, I started to give thanks.

Like Job, I’d felt very self-righteous.  I’d not done anything to deserve these plagues.  It wasn’t fair.  But in the dark despair of a lonely night, stuck in the bathroom, I humbled myself and began to give thanks.

Humility is indeed crucial.  And in this season of struggle, discomfort, and suffering, humility IS relevant.

 

Next the writer encourages us to cast our anxieties on God.

And this, my friends, is something I struggle to do.  Can I do my best in a moment – with what resources I have, with what knowledge I have, and leave the results to God?  Can I trust God with my deepest fears, hopes, and desires?  Can I wake from a fitful sleep of nightmares and turn to God in prayer, in resting, in stillness?

The writer of 1 Peter knows well that we are not equipped or expected to shoulder the weight of the worries of our lives or of the world on our shoulders.  That is GOD’s job.  And so he encourages us to cast our cares on God, because God cares for us.  We are loved with a unstopping, relentless, fierce, and steadfast love.  We are loved by Almighty God.  Can we not trust this One with all that matters most?  Can we cast our anxieties on God?

 

Third, the writer instructs the followers to be disciplined, to keep alert.  Temptation, fear, fear-mongering, lies, myths of scarcity, doubts of God’s love for us all come and stand tall around us, sometimes blocking out the sun entirely, especially when we feed them.  And so we must discipline our mind.  We must discipline our bodies.  God has given us wisdom, education, resources, data, skill, and so much more for the business of survival and prospering.  So let us do our part, let us discipline ourselves, and then may we cast our cares upon the God who cares for us.

 

Finally, we are instructed to resist the devil.  These temptations and fears come to steal, kill, and destroy.  They quench life.  They rob us of peace and of freedom and joy.  We are called to resist, standing steadfast in our faith – standing on God’s promises and in God’s presence, believing God’s word over our own fears.  Scripture declares, “Resist the devil, and he will flee.”  When we resist, when we stand firm, when we keep our eyes fixed and our minds set on God’s words to us, we renew our strength; waiting on the Lord, we mount up with wings, as eagles!

 

And so I find this instruction of 1 Peter quite helpful.  Our God is not apart from all that we are going through.  Our God is not far from the sufferings of this world.  Our God is near to the broken-hearted.  Our God hears the cries of the sick and the dying.

This whole world and everything in it belongs to our God, and nature itself obeys the command of our God.

While we cannot yet discern the path forward,…
While threat and risk emerge on all sides,…
Our God walks with us, in the joys and the pains.

So may we humble ourselves.
May we cast our cares upon God, who cares for us.
May we remain disciplined and alert.
And may we resist the devil and all our temptations,
That God’s words might reign in our minds and God’s peace in our hearts.

 

You are dear and dearly loved.
Rest in that love. 

 

“To Be Channels of God’s Goodness”

Rev. Katherine Todd
Acts 2:42-47
Psalm 23

 

Acts 2:42-47

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff—
they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
my whole life long.


 

Reading this passage from Acts about the apostles and early believers sharing everything they have in common, I am struck anew at how very, very counter-cultural this act is.  One could even say it is subversive.

We buy and sell.  We own and transfer ownership.  We own land.  We build and own property.  And back in Jesus’ day, even women, many servants, enslaved persons, and children were all considered property.  As capitalistic as we are today, there was an even bigger spectrum in Jesus’ day of what and who people thought could be bought and sold, owned, possessed.

Frankly the idea of a person owning another person causes a visceral response in my body.  I find it so very offensive.  Nonetheless, the culture and world to which Jesus came and gave his life saw ownership as a sign of wealth and power, much as we do today.

So when the disciples ask new believers to share everything freely with one another, to sell their possession and give to the poor, to hold nothing back – it is most certainly subversive.  It is a hard ask.  Can you imagine asking that of another person?

 

I cannot.

I truly delight in ownership.  I love owning a car.  I adore owning real estate.  I love the items that I’ve purchased or found and now call my own.  I love the memories.  I love the resourcefulness.  I love being prepared.

And yet the disciples learned a very different way of living from Jesus.  They travelled from place to place, without ownership, without provision, without knowing where their next shelter or meal would come from.  Sometimes they picked wheat and produce from the fields through which they wandered.  And sometimes Jesus asked them to feed people, when they themselves did not have anything on them to offer another.

But Jesus had shown them the power of this way of life.  They’d been challenged to wholly lean on God for their well-being.  When they split up to go and witness to the Kingdom of God in neighboring towns, Jesus had instructed them to go empty-handed.  They were to take nothing but the tunic on their backs.  And they were to rely, wholly, on the generosity of those they met.  Can you imagine?

 

Some in our culture know this way of life.

There are a few who also know not where their next meal will come from or where they will find shelter and rest.  There are some who travel without provision, wholly reliant on those around them to survive.  Many hustle in their own way – trying to sell goods or services to make a buck.  And others beg on street corners, traffic islands, and even grocery store parking lots.

We tend to look unfavorably on these folks.

They are not being responsible, we say.  They are mooching off the rest of us.  We are paying for their laziness, we feel.

We don’t know what to do when we see them.  Are they truly in need?  Are they a victim?  Are they victimizing me?  What will they use my gift for?  Will they use it for life-crushing substances?  Will they use it for food?  Will they use it wisely?

Our questions are left unanswered, as we each try to make up our own minds.  And this discomfort weighs on us, especially as we pass by those we choose not to help.  Are we doing the right thing??

 

And though these wanderers and sojourners differ in some ways from Jesus’ disciples, they also have enough similarity, that it behooves us to pay attention.

 

In America we have some exposure as well to a culture that did not believe in land ownership:  the Native Americans.  The earth and all its fullness is seen as a gift – not to be grasped, but to be received with gratitude and respect.  The earth and all its fullness is not for us to use and squander however we choose.  Rather, we are given its keeping for a little while, and it is our great and holy responsibility to keep it thriving for our children and our children’s children.

Frankly, this view of creation sounds far more in keeping with Christ’s manner of living than our own.  And sometimes, the manner of living of the homeless and wanderers among us, seems much more in keeping with Jesus’ manner of living.  Jesus was, after all, homeless.  He did not have money.  He was not beholden to the systems and powers that be.  He was not part of the economic engine, the machine.  So in this way, he was uniquely free, a freedom many of our homeless brothers and sisters have also known.

 

So where does this leave us?

I’d like to think that our society is just what Jesus would have designed, but I cannot imagine that is true.  I appreciate capitalism.  I love home and land ownership, but this is not what we see in Jesus’ own life, and as uncomfortable as it makes me, I believe you and I are responsible to God for how we life, be it for good or for ill.

So whether we own or use land, whether we own or use resources, whether we buy or borrow goods and services, we are responsible.  And our actions reflect, in some way, our levels of trust, in the good shepherd, with whom “I shall not want.”

 

We give lip service in the church to trusting God.  We give lip service to trusting God with our money, our goods, our lives.  But when it comes down to it, our actions most accurately reflect our trust. 

Do our gifts of money, answer God’s call on our finances?  Have we taken the time to be still and listen for God’s still, small voice speaking over what we possess?  Do we even dare open up ourselves to such a vulnerable position of listening??

How much treasure do we store up for ourselves?  When do we have enough?
How much toilet paper do we store up?  When do we “have enough?”
Isn’t it all relative?
Isn’t it all so easy to rationalize?

 

I do not think there is a one-size-fits-all answer to any of this.  I dare not venture to prescribe how much you should own or give.  And I think God’s answers and invitations to each of us differ widely. 

 

And so, I invite you, to be still before our God, and to listen. 

 

What does God bring to mind?
Who does God bring to mind?
Is there someone in need nearby, whom you can help?
Do you have resources you’ve outgrown that would tremendously bless someone else?

This process is for you and you alone.   Each person, each family, each couple is responsible for how life is lived, what resources are used, what is shared, and whether or not we obeyed God’s private instruction in our lives.

 

The early believers shared all they had in common.  They sold what they had and gave it to the poor.  They shared, wherever there was need.

THIS my friends, is the Kindom of God.
THIS is the radical way of living Christ calls us to.

We are to place our trust in Christ alone, and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

 

And I am moved to read this now, because so many of us have been acting more like this of late.  Food Lion issued 1,500 $20 gift cards for school children in impoverished neighborhoods in this community.  Jo-ann’s has been giving out mask-making supplies free to anyone who will make them.  Reservoir Distillery here in Richmond is giving away hand sanitizer every weekday – turning their tasting room into a distribution center.  Celebrities are paying rents for entire low-income neighborhoods.  One is even paying for virtual therapy.  Another has started his own boot-leg broadcast called, “SGN” – Some Good News, and he’s using it to spread stories of hope and courage to lift of the community.

You have made masks upon masks for one another.  You have labored long over financial records and payroll sheets – to find and solicit ways to continue employing those workers who have served in our midst for so very long.  You’ve written cards and letters to one another, especially our home-bound members and friends.  Money for projects and paychecks has been provided, mysteriously, anonymously.  You have rallied to put up and fill a new Little Pantry on our church grounds, to supply the community in this needful time.  When various ones among us have been in a bind, you have responded with help, in time.  When folks call our office asking help to pay a bill, you fund an account that pays portions of these bills.  When folks among us need a ride to appointments, you have shown up.

 

Just as the Israelites long ago were not blessed for themselves alone, WE are not blessed for ourselves alone.  We are called to be Christ’s hands and feet in this world – to be CHANNELS of God’s goodness – of grace and love, abundance and provision, comfort and care.  We are called to shepherd one another, as our God has shepherded us – to love and comfort one another as our God has loved and comforted us.

We are blessed in order to BE a BLESSING. 

 

So as we prepare to leave this gathering,
I invite you,
to covenant
– with yourself and with God –
to set aside a holy moment,
this day,
to listen to your God.

Generous and merciful God,
how are you calling us to be faithful,
here and now,
in this time.
Speak, in ways we can hear.

And by your grace, may we most surely be, your faithful disciples.