Signs And The Sign
Preaching
Pulpit Science Fiction
Signs And The Sign
Exodus 14:19-Ê31
Signs was one of summer 2002's hit movies. Mel Gibson stars as a priest who has left the ministry after an accident in which his wife was killed, an event that seems to have destroyed his faith. He's living with his two small children and his brother on a farm. Then circles and other strange markings begin to appear in his cornfield.
The film doesn't have to explain about these circles because they've been in the news off and on in the real world since they started appearing in England in the '80s. Some people think that they're the result of UFO landings or something of the sort, but for the past ten years they've been considered a hoax since a couple of Englishmen demonstrated how they made the circles, themselves.
Still, believers continue to think that the circles were made by aliens, because -- well, because for one reason a lot of people feel very lonely in this huge, ancient, expanding universe that science has disclosed to us. It's hard for them to believe in traditional religion in this context, but terrible to think that we're all alone in emptiness. It would be comforting to know that there were other intelligent species in the universe -- perhaps even if they were hostile.
So we think we know what's going on in the film when the crop circles appear, and television begins to show mysterious saucer-like lights hovering over the world's cities. The crop markings are indeed signs, landing markers for an alien invasion.
But this isn't just one more War of the Worlds or Independence Day. There are other signs, more subtle signs -- or coincidences, if you insist, and we realize that the real crisis is not just another threat to people's lives. Cancer or gunshot can kill you as effectively as a hostile alien. The real crisis is what has happened, and what will happen, to the priest's faith. And in the end -- well, that's why you should see the movie.
In our reading from Exodus, a strong east wind drives the sea back and makes a path for the Hebrew slaves to escape from the Egyptian army. It was a sign of God's favor, the Lord's way of liberating his people. Or was it? Perhaps it was just a coincidental timing of the weather. Maybe Israel was just lucky.
People often look for signs to show them what to believe or what to do, or how to get what they need. "If only God would give me a sign!" And sometimes we get signs we didn't ask for, or even want.
For us, for whom those images of the Twin Towers crashing to the ground are still vivid -- was that a sign of divine wrath or of something else? Are there any signs of hope in today's world or are we on our own, left to work things out among ourselves?
The problem is that signs are usually ambiguous, and we can read what we want into them. There's an old story of a farmer who had been asking God for a sign to tell him what he should be doing with his life. One morning he looked up in the sky and saw clouds forming perfect letters "PC." "Preach Christ!" he exclaimed. "That's what God wants me to do." And he was all set to sell the farm and go into the ministry until one of his neighbors pointed out that the letters "PC" could just as well mean "Plant corn."
It's not surprising that signs seem ambiguous. A sign can bring someone to faith -- but only if that person is in some sense open to faith. If you think you already know the answer, you won't let a sign point you anywhere else.
The Bible is full of signs, and of people asking for them. In the Gospel of John, all the miraculous things that Jesus does -- turning water into wine, raising Lazarus from the dead, and all the rest, are called "signs." "Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him." It sounds like a dream come true for the people who say, "If only God would give me a sign!" But it doesn't seem to work that way. At the end of Jesus' ministry we're told of the crowds that "although he had performed so many signs in their presence, they did not believe in him."
And those who demand that Jesus give them a sign from heaven get a blunt answer. "An evil and adulterous generation asks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it." No sign, that is, "except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea monster, so for three days and three nights the Son of Man will be in the heart of the earth." The only sign you will get is Christ in the tomb.
Speeches at graduations are usually pretty forgettable, but I remember vividly one line from the address at my seminary graduation: "At some points in your ministry you will ask God for a sign, and the only sign you will get is the sign of Jonah." It's something of which we all need to be reminded. What we get is the sign of death and resurrection, out of slavery into freedom, through the sea to the promised land.
That is a sign of hope, and not just because of the possibility of resurrection. We grab hold of the idea of resurrection too quickly anyway. The sign of Jonah is first of all the sign of death, of the Son of Man in the heart of the earth. It points to the truth that God has come into our world to share in our human condition, in the evils that our sin brings upon us, in our suffering and our dying. There is a good reason why the fundamental sign that marks Christian churches, the sign that we use most in worship, is the cross. It is a sign that points us to the true cross upon which the Son of God died, and it reminds us of his words to us that we must be prepared to take up our crosses and follow him.
The cross points us to the reality of God. People often talk rather glibly about God -- God wills this or that, God rewards or punishes, and so forth. "I can't believe a God would allow that" they say when some disaster happens. "If only God would give me a sign." But what God are we talking about?
The Christian claim is that God is made known in the death and resurrection of Christ, so that the cross is the sign of God. If you want to know where God is at work, look first for that sign, for the crosslike events of the world. "The Son of God was crucified for all and for everything," Saint Irenaeus said, "having traced the sign of the cross on all things." God is active in the world, in solidarity with those who fail and suffer and die, so that none of their pains need be without hope.
In the light of the cross, we read our text from Exodus and see in the blast of the east wind the work of God bringing his people out of slavery to freedom. In the light of the cross, we look back at the events of September eleventh and see -- well, we're probably still too close to that to read it very well. But it was surely not just the wrath of a vindictive deity, or the triumph of evil, or a guarantee of a trouble-free life. God is active for life in the presence of destruction.
In your own life, don't look just for the easy or obvious answers. Learn from the story of Jesus, from the whole of scripture, who God is. Then you will be better able to discern God's will for you, and bear in mind that often a sign of God's will is that you are led where you did not plan to go.
In order to read the signs, you have to keep your eyes and mind and heart open. And you have to look at things in the light that God gives.
Comment
As I noted in the Introduction, this is not a science fiction story sermon but one that refers to a science fiction film. Signs, starring Mel Gibson, was one of the popular movies in the summer of 2002, and this sermon was preached in September of that year. The film used science fiction to convey a religious theme: The way in which Gibson's character, the priest, returns to pastoral ministry (after, we assume, recovery of his faith), and not merely the appearance of extraterrestrials, is what the movie is really about. In light of Gibson's later efforts to present The Passion Of The Christ, this religious emphasis is not surprising.
I hope that this sermon gives some idea of how a preacher can use a currently popular science fiction film as an illustration in a more or less traditional homiletic format. Some -- perhaps most -- of the people in the congregation won't have seen the movie in question, and the preacher has to give at least a sketch of the plot. But, as in this case, it isn't necessary to give away everything. Leaving "how it turns out" unstated may encourage some who haven't been to the movie to see it, and then perhaps reflect back on the sermon.
Biblical texts quoted here are from John 2:11; 12:37; and Matthew 12:39-40. The statement by Irenaeus is from On the Apostolic Preaching, and was quoted in this form by P. Evdokimov in Scottish Journal of Theology 18.1, 1965, p. 5.
Exodus 14:19-Ê31
Signs was one of summer 2002's hit movies. Mel Gibson stars as a priest who has left the ministry after an accident in which his wife was killed, an event that seems to have destroyed his faith. He's living with his two small children and his brother on a farm. Then circles and other strange markings begin to appear in his cornfield.
The film doesn't have to explain about these circles because they've been in the news off and on in the real world since they started appearing in England in the '80s. Some people think that they're the result of UFO landings or something of the sort, but for the past ten years they've been considered a hoax since a couple of Englishmen demonstrated how they made the circles, themselves.
Still, believers continue to think that the circles were made by aliens, because -- well, because for one reason a lot of people feel very lonely in this huge, ancient, expanding universe that science has disclosed to us. It's hard for them to believe in traditional religion in this context, but terrible to think that we're all alone in emptiness. It would be comforting to know that there were other intelligent species in the universe -- perhaps even if they were hostile.
So we think we know what's going on in the film when the crop circles appear, and television begins to show mysterious saucer-like lights hovering over the world's cities. The crop markings are indeed signs, landing markers for an alien invasion.
But this isn't just one more War of the Worlds or Independence Day. There are other signs, more subtle signs -- or coincidences, if you insist, and we realize that the real crisis is not just another threat to people's lives. Cancer or gunshot can kill you as effectively as a hostile alien. The real crisis is what has happened, and what will happen, to the priest's faith. And in the end -- well, that's why you should see the movie.
In our reading from Exodus, a strong east wind drives the sea back and makes a path for the Hebrew slaves to escape from the Egyptian army. It was a sign of God's favor, the Lord's way of liberating his people. Or was it? Perhaps it was just a coincidental timing of the weather. Maybe Israel was just lucky.
People often look for signs to show them what to believe or what to do, or how to get what they need. "If only God would give me a sign!" And sometimes we get signs we didn't ask for, or even want.
For us, for whom those images of the Twin Towers crashing to the ground are still vivid -- was that a sign of divine wrath or of something else? Are there any signs of hope in today's world or are we on our own, left to work things out among ourselves?
The problem is that signs are usually ambiguous, and we can read what we want into them. There's an old story of a farmer who had been asking God for a sign to tell him what he should be doing with his life. One morning he looked up in the sky and saw clouds forming perfect letters "PC." "Preach Christ!" he exclaimed. "That's what God wants me to do." And he was all set to sell the farm and go into the ministry until one of his neighbors pointed out that the letters "PC" could just as well mean "Plant corn."
It's not surprising that signs seem ambiguous. A sign can bring someone to faith -- but only if that person is in some sense open to faith. If you think you already know the answer, you won't let a sign point you anywhere else.
The Bible is full of signs, and of people asking for them. In the Gospel of John, all the miraculous things that Jesus does -- turning water into wine, raising Lazarus from the dead, and all the rest, are called "signs." "Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him." It sounds like a dream come true for the people who say, "If only God would give me a sign!" But it doesn't seem to work that way. At the end of Jesus' ministry we're told of the crowds that "although he had performed so many signs in their presence, they did not believe in him."
And those who demand that Jesus give them a sign from heaven get a blunt answer. "An evil and adulterous generation asks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it." No sign, that is, "except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea monster, so for three days and three nights the Son of Man will be in the heart of the earth." The only sign you will get is Christ in the tomb.
Speeches at graduations are usually pretty forgettable, but I remember vividly one line from the address at my seminary graduation: "At some points in your ministry you will ask God for a sign, and the only sign you will get is the sign of Jonah." It's something of which we all need to be reminded. What we get is the sign of death and resurrection, out of slavery into freedom, through the sea to the promised land.
That is a sign of hope, and not just because of the possibility of resurrection. We grab hold of the idea of resurrection too quickly anyway. The sign of Jonah is first of all the sign of death, of the Son of Man in the heart of the earth. It points to the truth that God has come into our world to share in our human condition, in the evils that our sin brings upon us, in our suffering and our dying. There is a good reason why the fundamental sign that marks Christian churches, the sign that we use most in worship, is the cross. It is a sign that points us to the true cross upon which the Son of God died, and it reminds us of his words to us that we must be prepared to take up our crosses and follow him.
The cross points us to the reality of God. People often talk rather glibly about God -- God wills this or that, God rewards or punishes, and so forth. "I can't believe a God would allow that" they say when some disaster happens. "If only God would give me a sign." But what God are we talking about?
The Christian claim is that God is made known in the death and resurrection of Christ, so that the cross is the sign of God. If you want to know where God is at work, look first for that sign, for the crosslike events of the world. "The Son of God was crucified for all and for everything," Saint Irenaeus said, "having traced the sign of the cross on all things." God is active in the world, in solidarity with those who fail and suffer and die, so that none of their pains need be without hope.
In the light of the cross, we read our text from Exodus and see in the blast of the east wind the work of God bringing his people out of slavery to freedom. In the light of the cross, we look back at the events of September eleventh and see -- well, we're probably still too close to that to read it very well. But it was surely not just the wrath of a vindictive deity, or the triumph of evil, or a guarantee of a trouble-free life. God is active for life in the presence of destruction.
In your own life, don't look just for the easy or obvious answers. Learn from the story of Jesus, from the whole of scripture, who God is. Then you will be better able to discern God's will for you, and bear in mind that often a sign of God's will is that you are led where you did not plan to go.
In order to read the signs, you have to keep your eyes and mind and heart open. And you have to look at things in the light that God gives.
Comment
As I noted in the Introduction, this is not a science fiction story sermon but one that refers to a science fiction film. Signs, starring Mel Gibson, was one of the popular movies in the summer of 2002, and this sermon was preached in September of that year. The film used science fiction to convey a religious theme: The way in which Gibson's character, the priest, returns to pastoral ministry (after, we assume, recovery of his faith), and not merely the appearance of extraterrestrials, is what the movie is really about. In light of Gibson's later efforts to present The Passion Of The Christ, this religious emphasis is not surprising.
I hope that this sermon gives some idea of how a preacher can use a currently popular science fiction film as an illustration in a more or less traditional homiletic format. Some -- perhaps most -- of the people in the congregation won't have seen the movie in question, and the preacher has to give at least a sketch of the plot. But, as in this case, it isn't necessary to give away everything. Leaving "how it turns out" unstated may encourage some who haven't been to the movie to see it, and then perhaps reflect back on the sermon.
Biblical texts quoted here are from John 2:11; 12:37; and Matthew 12:39-40. The statement by Irenaeus is from On the Apostolic Preaching, and was quoted in this form by P. Evdokimov in Scottish Journal of Theology 18.1, 1965, p. 5.
