God Is God And We Are Not, Thank God
Sermon
Sermons On The First Readings
Series I, Cycle B
In Twelve Step programs there is a popular saying, the origin of which is unknown: "God is God, and we are not, thank God." That is a saying we frequently need to be reminded of. That is a saying that David, in today's lesson, needed to be reminded of. David meant well. After being on the road non-stop during the course of his various military campaigns, David finally gets to rest, to kick back for awhile, to settle into the holy city of Jerusalem. One day he says to his most trusted advisor, the prophet Nathan, "See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent." Probably because David's love for Yahweh was undeniable, and because David sincerely meant well, Nathan said, off the cuff, "Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you." As the Lord has always been with you.
But that night the Word of the Lord came to Nathan: "Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? ... I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place ... Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me."
In other words, "Remember, David, I am God, and you are not, thank God." Now that you have some rest, now that you're not fearing for your life in the thick of battle, now that there's smooth sailing for a few days and you don't need me as much as you did when you were at war, now you forget who's God. You want to build me a house? I cannot be contained in a house! Remember your place, David. I will build you a house. There is a pun going on in the Hebrew. David says, I will build Yahweh a "house," meaning a "dwelling place" -- a house made of cedar. God says, "I will build you a "house," meaning a "dynasty" -- a house made of flesh and blood, a dynasty which will climax in the Messiah.
Remember, God is God, and we are not, thank God.
After the terrorist attack on the United States of America on September, 11, 2001, I don't think any of us will ever be the same. In the weeks that followed, churches were left open day and night truly as sanctuaries in the midst of a dark, difficult, and frightening world. We pastors spent our time just being with people in their grieving, listening to them as they poured out their feelings, and praying with them.
In terms of preaching, what can we possibly say in the face of such tragedy?
At such times I find my sermons follow a pattern Jesus used in his preaching and teaching. Bible scholars describe it as a style of preaching where short vignette follows upon short vignette, like simple beads strung together on a cord.
I offer these simple "beads."
The first bead is a realization that came when I arrived for a day's work at the church office on September 11. Our church sexton ran toward me as I made my way across the church parking lot. She pulled me into our Christian Life Center, where she had the television on. Together we sat and watched the horrifying, terrifying images of first one tower, then the second, crashing down ... then of the Pentagon falling under attack. She clasped my hand, and we prayed.
How mortifying to realize that even the most powerful nation in the world is not immune. That even the most powerful nation in the world can be shaken.
Ironically, all that kept coming to me was what I had read during my devotions just that morning, "That which cannot be shaken will remain" (Hebrews 12:27).
As my eyes watched the shocking images, again and again, underneath it all I had this sense that "There is One in Whom we believe, in Whom we dwell, who can never be shaken, who remains: God."
God is God and we are not, thank God.
A second bead is that God dwells not in a house of cedar or a tower of steel, but within flesh and blood. A lovely business woman stopped by the church. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "All my work, and appointments, my 'to do' list suddenly seem so irrelevant. I just want to call up everyone I love and tell them that I love them."
She reminded me of a piece of wisdom on life I learned many years ago from a fifteen-year-old young man battling leukemia. He said, "We spend so much time and energy running around after things which, in the grand scheme of things, are irrelevant. My facing death taught me that there are really only two things in this life that are ultimately important: our relationship with God and our relationships with those we love."
Would that we would live that way every day.
The third bead is a bead that is hard to swallow. I think the thing many of us found the most difficult was to see the incredible hatred with which so many in our world look at us "Americans." Rationally we know that that is always the case when you are the biggest and the brightest and the most beautiful and the best. The underdogs will often hate you for that.
But then the big question arises: "How are we going to respond to such hatred?" As we wrestle with how to respond, feelings of anger and revenge are completely understandable. But I always think of what Martin Luther King said: "If we respond to hate with hate, we are only contributing to the force of hate in this world. If we respond to evil with evil we are only contributing to the force of evil in this world." Martin Luther King, of course, was trying to live out Jesus' mandate: "Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven" (Matthew 5:44-45).
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour, for the living of these days.
Ironically the morning of the attack I'd been journaling on a very personal level. I had been feeling hurt by someone close to me, and had been frightened by the amount of violence and evil which dwells within each human heart. At first, in light of the attack, I thought to myself, "That all seems so trivial now," but then I realized, "It's not trivial. It all starts here: in your heart and my heart."
Some years ago the Irish rock band, U2, whose own country has been torn apart by religious war, wrote a song with a line that is striking: "I can't change the world, but I can change the world in me."
God is God, and I am not, thank God. Change the world in me, O God, create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour, for the living of these days.
A fourth bead is how God's ways are so completely different from our ways. We see this revealed to us throughout God's Word. Now some may say that the God revealed to us in the Hebrew Bible is a God of violence and revenge. Look at all those passages about the "wrath" of God. But one time when I had to preach on one of those "wrath of God" passages, I did a little research. One biblical scholar said the "wrath of God" could be translated more accurately as "the burning anger of love." He said it was similar to the roaring of a mother lion when her cubs are threatened. "Yes," God must be saying, "look at their warring madness. I regret that I ever made them. They've failed so miserably to live up to what I created them to be." God's wrath at this time is God's burning anger of love for us as a planet, as a human community, knowing that we were created to be so much more.
God's ways are not our ways. God is God, and we are not, thank God.
Some people, as they struggle to try to live out their faith in the face of such evil, have asked, "Pastor Linda, is it okay to pray for the perpetrators of this awful, violent, evil act?"
Absolutely! We can pray, in fact, for a complete change of heart within those responsible for the tragedy. If such a change of heart seems impossible to us, we need only to look at the Word of God, which reveals to us, again and again, the complete transformation of the heart which God has brought about in life after life after life.
One of the most dramatic examples is Saint Paul. Before his conversion Saint Paul, then "Saul," had been a perpetrator of violence and evil. He was personally involved in hunting down Christians, having them arrested, tortured, and killed.
God transformed Saul, changed his heart, and changed his name to "Paul" to mark the beginning of a completely new life. On a number of occasions Saint Paul says that he thought God must have chosen an extreme case like him to serve as an example. Paul said, in effect, "If God can change my heart, God can change anyone's heart." God's ways are not our ways. God is God and we are not, thank God.
On September 11, we saw the trough of human ways: complete lack of reverence for Life. In the Gospels, in Jesus, the living Word, we see the complete opposite -- the apex of God's ways which emphasize the awesome value of each individual child of God. Jesus even uses sarcastic humor to emphasize this. "What shepherd would not leave the 99 in the wilderness to find the one, wayward, lost sheep?" Christ's hearers, many of whom were shepherds, would have been laughing boisterously at this point. For not a single shepherd would do such a thing; that would be ridiculous!
Jesus' point is that God is that extravagant -- seeking even one who is lost. Like a shepherd seeking that sheep, like that woman sweeping out the house until she finds that one lost coin, like the father of the prodigal son, who did not rejoice until the one who was lost had been found. This same God seeking each one of us who is lost, not resting till each one who is lost is embraced in the arms of our shepherd.
God's ways are far from our ways. God is God, and we are not, thank God.
As we string together the beads from the week of the tragedy, some of those beads were priceless pearls. The most extraordinary pearl of all was an eighteen-month-old child of God named Lucy, whose name means "light." Lucy was adopted from China. Lucy's family had been living in a place of deep grieving because of the tragic, sudden death of her mother's brother, a handsome young man only 38 years old. Then Lucy arrived -- a beacon of light.
The first weekend after the terrorist attack, our congregation celebrated the grace of God in Lucy's baptism. Even in the face of our huge national tragedy, Lucy was a beacon of light in our grieving church family. Indeed it is a fact that every time we experience a tragedy, we also celebrate a birth or the new birth of baptism. I think it is God's way of reminding us that Good will always be victorious over evil, and Life over death. God reminds us that God's ways are not our ways. That God is God and we are not, thank God. God reminds us that God comes to us, again and again, in the midst of the darkness, in startling and surprising ways. "You who walked in darkness have seen a great light; you who have lived in a land of deep darkness -- on you light has shined ... for unto us a child is born" (Isaiah 9:2).
Indeed the week of the terrorist attacks, the darkest week in our history as a nation, there were many other beads -- many other beacons of light. So many volunteered to help that they had to send people home. Americans gathered for strength and prayer, lighting candles in vigil, uniting as a nation as never before. The proliferation of flags reveals a deep sense of gratitude for America and for the freedom it represents as never before. On a global scale, even some of those nations who have been considered our enemies are praying for us! The United Nations has never been as united as in its stand against terrorism.
Another bead of light came from a man who hasn't set foot in our church in the five years that I have been the pastor. He showed up the week after the attack. I was surprised how passionately he spoke. He said we must not be immobilized in our fear, but instead must live boldly. "Otherwise they will have won."
A final bead of light came in a letter to all of us pastors from the Bishop of the New England Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, the Reverend Margaret Payne. She wrote:
All of us are wrestling with the enormity of this event. Our nation is changed forever. Yet God is the same. [That which cannot be shaken will remain.] And the path through the pain and damage caused by these evil terrorist acts -- the path through -- is charted by our faith in the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ ... God is close to us, suffering with us ... and giving consolation during this time of anguish. Jesus Christ is the light of the world and not even this darkness can overcome his power. Especially now ... We are the keepers of this light of Christ and we must hold it high. (parenthetical element mine)
At the end of Lucy's baptism, we did what we always do. We took Lucy's baptismal candle and lit it from the large Christ candle which stands front and center in our sanctuary. We quoted the baptismal liturgy: "Jesus Christ is the light of the world. But Jesus tells us that in him we are the light of the world. Lucy, may your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your God in heaven."
This day, let us go forth as lights in a dark world in the power of Christ, the light of the world, who not even this darkness can overcome. May our light so shine before others that they may see our good works and give glory to our God in heaven. Amen.
But that night the Word of the Lord came to Nathan: "Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? ... I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place ... Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me."
In other words, "Remember, David, I am God, and you are not, thank God." Now that you have some rest, now that you're not fearing for your life in the thick of battle, now that there's smooth sailing for a few days and you don't need me as much as you did when you were at war, now you forget who's God. You want to build me a house? I cannot be contained in a house! Remember your place, David. I will build you a house. There is a pun going on in the Hebrew. David says, I will build Yahweh a "house," meaning a "dwelling place" -- a house made of cedar. God says, "I will build you a "house," meaning a "dynasty" -- a house made of flesh and blood, a dynasty which will climax in the Messiah.
Remember, God is God, and we are not, thank God.
After the terrorist attack on the United States of America on September, 11, 2001, I don't think any of us will ever be the same. In the weeks that followed, churches were left open day and night truly as sanctuaries in the midst of a dark, difficult, and frightening world. We pastors spent our time just being with people in their grieving, listening to them as they poured out their feelings, and praying with them.
In terms of preaching, what can we possibly say in the face of such tragedy?
At such times I find my sermons follow a pattern Jesus used in his preaching and teaching. Bible scholars describe it as a style of preaching where short vignette follows upon short vignette, like simple beads strung together on a cord.
I offer these simple "beads."
The first bead is a realization that came when I arrived for a day's work at the church office on September 11. Our church sexton ran toward me as I made my way across the church parking lot. She pulled me into our Christian Life Center, where she had the television on. Together we sat and watched the horrifying, terrifying images of first one tower, then the second, crashing down ... then of the Pentagon falling under attack. She clasped my hand, and we prayed.
How mortifying to realize that even the most powerful nation in the world is not immune. That even the most powerful nation in the world can be shaken.
Ironically, all that kept coming to me was what I had read during my devotions just that morning, "That which cannot be shaken will remain" (Hebrews 12:27).
As my eyes watched the shocking images, again and again, underneath it all I had this sense that "There is One in Whom we believe, in Whom we dwell, who can never be shaken, who remains: God."
God is God and we are not, thank God.
A second bead is that God dwells not in a house of cedar or a tower of steel, but within flesh and blood. A lovely business woman stopped by the church. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "All my work, and appointments, my 'to do' list suddenly seem so irrelevant. I just want to call up everyone I love and tell them that I love them."
She reminded me of a piece of wisdom on life I learned many years ago from a fifteen-year-old young man battling leukemia. He said, "We spend so much time and energy running around after things which, in the grand scheme of things, are irrelevant. My facing death taught me that there are really only two things in this life that are ultimately important: our relationship with God and our relationships with those we love."
Would that we would live that way every day.
The third bead is a bead that is hard to swallow. I think the thing many of us found the most difficult was to see the incredible hatred with which so many in our world look at us "Americans." Rationally we know that that is always the case when you are the biggest and the brightest and the most beautiful and the best. The underdogs will often hate you for that.
But then the big question arises: "How are we going to respond to such hatred?" As we wrestle with how to respond, feelings of anger and revenge are completely understandable. But I always think of what Martin Luther King said: "If we respond to hate with hate, we are only contributing to the force of hate in this world. If we respond to evil with evil we are only contributing to the force of evil in this world." Martin Luther King, of course, was trying to live out Jesus' mandate: "Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven" (Matthew 5:44-45).
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour, for the living of these days.
Ironically the morning of the attack I'd been journaling on a very personal level. I had been feeling hurt by someone close to me, and had been frightened by the amount of violence and evil which dwells within each human heart. At first, in light of the attack, I thought to myself, "That all seems so trivial now," but then I realized, "It's not trivial. It all starts here: in your heart and my heart."
Some years ago the Irish rock band, U2, whose own country has been torn apart by religious war, wrote a song with a line that is striking: "I can't change the world, but I can change the world in me."
God is God, and I am not, thank God. Change the world in me, O God, create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour, for the living of these days.
A fourth bead is how God's ways are so completely different from our ways. We see this revealed to us throughout God's Word. Now some may say that the God revealed to us in the Hebrew Bible is a God of violence and revenge. Look at all those passages about the "wrath" of God. But one time when I had to preach on one of those "wrath of God" passages, I did a little research. One biblical scholar said the "wrath of God" could be translated more accurately as "the burning anger of love." He said it was similar to the roaring of a mother lion when her cubs are threatened. "Yes," God must be saying, "look at their warring madness. I regret that I ever made them. They've failed so miserably to live up to what I created them to be." God's wrath at this time is God's burning anger of love for us as a planet, as a human community, knowing that we were created to be so much more.
God's ways are not our ways. God is God, and we are not, thank God.
Some people, as they struggle to try to live out their faith in the face of such evil, have asked, "Pastor Linda, is it okay to pray for the perpetrators of this awful, violent, evil act?"
Absolutely! We can pray, in fact, for a complete change of heart within those responsible for the tragedy. If such a change of heart seems impossible to us, we need only to look at the Word of God, which reveals to us, again and again, the complete transformation of the heart which God has brought about in life after life after life.
One of the most dramatic examples is Saint Paul. Before his conversion Saint Paul, then "Saul," had been a perpetrator of violence and evil. He was personally involved in hunting down Christians, having them arrested, tortured, and killed.
God transformed Saul, changed his heart, and changed his name to "Paul" to mark the beginning of a completely new life. On a number of occasions Saint Paul says that he thought God must have chosen an extreme case like him to serve as an example. Paul said, in effect, "If God can change my heart, God can change anyone's heart." God's ways are not our ways. God is God and we are not, thank God.
On September 11, we saw the trough of human ways: complete lack of reverence for Life. In the Gospels, in Jesus, the living Word, we see the complete opposite -- the apex of God's ways which emphasize the awesome value of each individual child of God. Jesus even uses sarcastic humor to emphasize this. "What shepherd would not leave the 99 in the wilderness to find the one, wayward, lost sheep?" Christ's hearers, many of whom were shepherds, would have been laughing boisterously at this point. For not a single shepherd would do such a thing; that would be ridiculous!
Jesus' point is that God is that extravagant -- seeking even one who is lost. Like a shepherd seeking that sheep, like that woman sweeping out the house until she finds that one lost coin, like the father of the prodigal son, who did not rejoice until the one who was lost had been found. This same God seeking each one of us who is lost, not resting till each one who is lost is embraced in the arms of our shepherd.
God's ways are far from our ways. God is God, and we are not, thank God.
As we string together the beads from the week of the tragedy, some of those beads were priceless pearls. The most extraordinary pearl of all was an eighteen-month-old child of God named Lucy, whose name means "light." Lucy was adopted from China. Lucy's family had been living in a place of deep grieving because of the tragic, sudden death of her mother's brother, a handsome young man only 38 years old. Then Lucy arrived -- a beacon of light.
The first weekend after the terrorist attack, our congregation celebrated the grace of God in Lucy's baptism. Even in the face of our huge national tragedy, Lucy was a beacon of light in our grieving church family. Indeed it is a fact that every time we experience a tragedy, we also celebrate a birth or the new birth of baptism. I think it is God's way of reminding us that Good will always be victorious over evil, and Life over death. God reminds us that God's ways are not our ways. That God is God and we are not, thank God. God reminds us that God comes to us, again and again, in the midst of the darkness, in startling and surprising ways. "You who walked in darkness have seen a great light; you who have lived in a land of deep darkness -- on you light has shined ... for unto us a child is born" (Isaiah 9:2).
Indeed the week of the terrorist attacks, the darkest week in our history as a nation, there were many other beads -- many other beacons of light. So many volunteered to help that they had to send people home. Americans gathered for strength and prayer, lighting candles in vigil, uniting as a nation as never before. The proliferation of flags reveals a deep sense of gratitude for America and for the freedom it represents as never before. On a global scale, even some of those nations who have been considered our enemies are praying for us! The United Nations has never been as united as in its stand against terrorism.
Another bead of light came from a man who hasn't set foot in our church in the five years that I have been the pastor. He showed up the week after the attack. I was surprised how passionately he spoke. He said we must not be immobilized in our fear, but instead must live boldly. "Otherwise they will have won."
A final bead of light came in a letter to all of us pastors from the Bishop of the New England Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, the Reverend Margaret Payne. She wrote:
All of us are wrestling with the enormity of this event. Our nation is changed forever. Yet God is the same. [That which cannot be shaken will remain.] And the path through the pain and damage caused by these evil terrorist acts -- the path through -- is charted by our faith in the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ ... God is close to us, suffering with us ... and giving consolation during this time of anguish. Jesus Christ is the light of the world and not even this darkness can overcome his power. Especially now ... We are the keepers of this light of Christ and we must hold it high. (parenthetical element mine)
At the end of Lucy's baptism, we did what we always do. We took Lucy's baptismal candle and lit it from the large Christ candle which stands front and center in our sanctuary. We quoted the baptismal liturgy: "Jesus Christ is the light of the world. But Jesus tells us that in him we are the light of the world. Lucy, may your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your God in heaven."
This day, let us go forth as lights in a dark world in the power of Christ, the light of the world, who not even this darkness can overcome. May our light so shine before others that they may see our good works and give glory to our God in heaven. Amen.
