Oddities of the Holy Spirit

Preacher: Jennifer Hosler

Scripture: Acts 16:9-15; John 14:23-29

At times, I am reminded that following Jesus is a bit strange. I’m trained in scientific methods as a community psychologist and I’m working to develop specific hypotheses for my dissertation. My research will be descriptive – describing what exists in the world – but it will also seek to answer a question with new data, empirical evidence.

I’ve followed Jesus for many years now – I was baptized in the spring of 2000—and so I’m used to talking about supernatural events of the Spirit, like miracles, or the Spirit’s leading. Yet, sometimes, it hits me with how odd it is, from an empirical and from a nonspiritual point of view. For instance, the general the notion of God, but especially the Holy Spirit acting, moving, nudging, and revealing, as we see in today’s texts. It is odd, if you are not religious, to hear someone say, “This might seem out of nowhere, but I felt this strong thought or voice remind me of a person, or give me a strong idea, or compel me to pray or talk or reach out to someone.” Yet, despite the lack of empirical support for how the Spirit moves, I’m convinced that these “oddities of the Holy Spirit” are still at work today. Our faith is not just a moral philosophy but is empowered and led by a Spirit beyond ourselves. We see this in scripture and we experience in life together as the body of Jesus.

Oddities of the Holy Spirit

Our passage in Acts 16 highlights some of these Holy Spirit oddities. We see that Paul and crew were traveling around preaching about Jesus but hit some Holy Spirit roadblocks in their journeys. Acts 16, verses 6-8 say, they “traveled throughout the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia. When they came to the border of Mysia, they tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to. So they passed by Mysia and went down to Troas.” There is no indication what this “not allowing” was. Did logistics just not come together? Was someone sick? Did they encounter hostile communities or authorities on the way? Or was it in times of prayer that they kept hearing a big “no”? Whatever the case, there were Holy Spirit roadblocks.

Then, in verse 9, Paul has a dream. The author of Acts, Luke, describes it this way: “During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” Luke explains, “After Paul had seen the vision, we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them” (NIV). Paul must have woken up from his dream and said, “Good morning! Um, I don’t know how your night last night was, but I had a dream about a Macedonian guy saying that he needed our help. So… I guess we should go to Macedonia?” So, they went to Macedonia, a place which was not just the next town over. Paul and crew get in a boat, leave Troas, and embark on the Mediterranean. They sailed straight to Samothrace (which was fun to see in the text, because of the statue of the goddess Nike, or the Winged Victory of Samothrace, that is at the Louvre). After Samothrace, Paul and colleagues continue on to Neapolis, then to Philippi, which was a Roman colony and the major city in that part of Macedonia.

Typically, Paul and his team would head to the local synagogue, but since there was not one, they went down to the river where they knew Jews or God-fearing gentiles might pray. They began talking with some women who had gathered, one of whom was a woman named Lydia, who is described as a dealer in purple cloth. Commentators say that her name may indicate she had a slave background, but that if she had been, she was now a freed person of means (with a household and a house). Lydia is said to be “a worshipper of God,” which is another way of saying a gentile drawn to Judaism. Primed and open to the teachings of Yahweh already, Lydia hears the message and receives it.

The gospel spreads beyond her to her household and everyone is baptized. She invites Paul and the team to her home. It requires some persuasion (she’s a single woman, maybe a widow, definitely a Gentile), but she ends up convincing Paul and crew to accept her hospitality. They stay with her and use her home as a base for their preaching in Philippi (until they leave after being thrown in jail, but that’s another story).

According to the text, Lydia is the first recorded convert in Macedonia, in the city of Philippi. The church in Philippi later becomes very important to Paul’s ministry of sharing the gospel; one of the main purposes of the Letter to the Philippians is to thank the congregation for its faithful support of Paul’s ministry (through funds, resources, and people).

Acts 16 is a story of closed doors, a weird dream, walking in faith (or rather, sailing in faith), of opportunities ripe for the harvest, crossing social boundaries to receive hospitality, the gospel spreading, ministry being supported—and all this in ways that Paul and his partners probably could not have imagined when they were in Troas at the beginning of the passage. Things weren’t working. Through the oddities of the Holy Spirit, a new opportunity opened. They followed the opportunity and it bore fruit beyond what they could have imagined.

Paul listened for the oddities of the Holy Spirit and acted decisively, walking in faith, though it could have seemed pretty ludicrous or absurd to other people. “You crossed the sea because you had a dream…?” The oddities of the Holy Spirit still happen today. Sometimes the Spirit speaks in a still small voice, sometimes in an emerging thought, sometimes in a dream (I guess!), or sometimes in an opportunity so obvious that we need to walk through the door, or have a conversation, or invite someone to our home, or any other number of things. I’m not stating an exhaustive list. We see in Scripture that the Holy Spirit nudges or reveals opportunities for ministry in ways that could be seen as odd or absurd.

Are we listening for the Holy Spirit? Are our holy senses working? Are we making the space to invite the Spirit’s nudges, pssts, or loud gongs to get our attention? Are we open to the oddities of the Holy Spirit? Are we open to the far-fetched call for a person to join our ministry? Are we open to the weird outreach plan that crossed our minds? Are we open to following the oddities of the Spirit, and then walking (or sailing) in faith to see how God might lead?

Peace I Leave with You, My Peace I Give You

Our 2nd passage flashes backward to Jesus’ ministry, the night before his crucifixion. Jesus is in the Garden of Gethsemane with his disciples, trying to prepare them for his death, resurrection, and ascension, giving them what they need to know (even if they won’t remember until later) and praying for them. Jesus says, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.”

If we love God and follow the way of Jesus, God will make a home with us. There’s kind of a strange, saccharine phrasing here, “we will come to them and make our home with them.” Though it sounds trite or cutesy translated into English, I think there is profound meaning when we unpack it.

Homes are where we find solace and rest, homes are where we are nourished, where we feed ourselves, and where we are the most relaxed and most authentic. Jesus promises that God will make a home with us: give us rest and solace, nourish us, feed us, and enable us to be our most authentic and true selves. When I am closely walking with Jesus, this is exactly what I feel: at home with God. When I become distant from God, when I drift from the way of Jesus, the rest, the solace, the nourishment, and the authenticity start to drift away too.

Jesus continues, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will be sent by the Father in my name, will come to you. The Spirit will teach you everything and remind you of all these things. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” Jesus teaches that the promised Holy Spirit—remember, Pentecost has not yet happened—will teach, remind, and cover the disciples with peace. Since Jesus and the disciples were Jewish, the peace he is referring to is the concept of shalom, which is wholeness, completeness, right relationships. With the Holy Spirit, the wholeness and completeness that God intends can be made manifest amongst these ragtag followers of Jesus. The disciples were about to be very afraid and deal with great loss. Jesus says, “do not be afraid. I am sending you what you need. My peace I give you, I leave with you.”

These are words that I needed to hear in my life both personally—as I’m dealing with numerous relational transitions or loss—and in terms of my role in this community. I’ve served as a leader here in times of great scarcity, then moved to what seemed like times of relative abundance and growth, and now back to what seems like a fallow period with scarcity—and, if I’m being honest, also some loss. I feel loss in the departure of core members who moved away. I feel loss in the disappearances of other seemingly somewhat committed persons. I feel loss, and I’m sad, and I’m probably afraid.

But Jesus says, I am giving you what you need. Really, while celebrating Pentecost is in 2 weeks, we are already in the era of the Holy Spirit—WE’VE BEEN GIVEN WHAT WE NEED. (I wrote that in all caps, because I need to hear it for myself.) Yes, I’m afraid. Yes, sometimes things really kind of suck. Yes, there is pain and loss. But you know what, Jesus did not leave us alone. Jesus did not leave us alone. The Advocate

(someone who pleads on our behalf!) is with us. God makes a home with us. The peace and wholeness and presence of God is with us, through the pain, through the loss, through the times that really suck.

Jesus said, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will be sent by the Father in my name, will come to you. The Spirit will teach you everything and remind you of all these things. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

Act on the Nudges and Do Not Be Afraid

I find it very intriguing that these passages came up this week, after some Holy Spirit nudges had occurred. While I certainly preach for the whole body, I often find that the biblical interpretation and the preaching I do is exactly for me, is somehow what I need right now. I’ve been trying to pay attention to these holy nudges, holy opportunities, both in terms of my personal life and my ministry with Washington City Church of the Brethren. Instead of just grieving some personal relationships ending or changing (but believe me, I’m still grieving), I’ve been saying yes to new opportunities for friendship. It’s hard to make new friends, but I’m trying to follow up with a text or a playdate or a walk, or whatever. I don’t think Jesus just wants me to sit around feeling sorry for myself, but to take opportunities placed around me, like new acquaintances or new neighbors.

In terms of the church, I think I had a holy nudge this week and I’ll tell you the story: I typically read books while nursing Ayuba to sleep but, for some reason, I started browsing facebook. Which is also strange, because I’ve been avoiding facebook for a while, only periodically getting the app back on a device and catching up with folks or posting on the church page or reading my birthday greetings. While there, I saw some news about a Church of the Brethren acquaintance, who had recently graduated with a degree.

All of a sudden, this small thought came across: maybe she can come to Washington City. It sounds crazy, but her degree and training could really fit with some of our interests in outreach and arts here at Washington City. After Ayuba fell asleep, I sat in silence—and got the sense that, to be faithful, I should act on this crazy thought and send her a message. So I did. I’m not sure what will come of it, if anything—but I want to be open to the oddities of the Holy Spirit. That’s how Nate and I got here. That’s how Jacob got here. A random conversation, an invitation, and walking in faith after the way of Jesus.

Are we open to hearing the oddities of the Holy Spirit? Personally and as a congregation, are we listening to holy nudges or paying attention to opportunities for new connections, new relationships, new ministry? While things are painful and we’re feeling loss, we are not alone. WE ARE NOT ALONE! We have the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whose oddities still occur today. We have the peace of Jesus, and God has made a home with us. AMEN.

Benediction, from Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:16-21: I pray that out of God’s glorious riches God may strengthen us with power through the Spirit in our inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in our hearts through faith. And I pray that we, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that we may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to God who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to God’s power that is at work within us, 21 to God be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Recognizing God

Preacher: Jeff Davidson

Scriptures: John 21:1-19, Acts 9:1-20

One of the classic adventure books that I remember reading as a kid “The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood” by Howard Pyle. It might have been in the Reader’s Digest abridged books. My mom and dad subscribed to those for many years, and it let me read books as a boy that I wouldn’t have been able to understand or follow if they’d been in their full original versions.

To get us all on the same page, Robin Hood is a British noble who has been cheated of his lands and become an outlaw. Great Britain’s King Richard is fighting overseas, and the throne has been entrusted to the care of the greedy and unscrupulous Prince John. Richard has been captured and is being held for ransom, and the people have been taxed for the ransom, but John does not intend to pay the ransom. Instead he is going to allow Richard to be killed and claim the throne for himself. Robin Hood and his merry men oppose John and support Richard.

Through a long and convoluted series of happenings, King Richard returns to England and is disguised as a priest. He and his entourage are

taken prisoner in Sherwood Forest by Robin and his men, as they do not see through his disguise and realize that he is the King.

The best movie version of this is from 1938 with Errol Flynn and Claude Rains. It’s on Turner Classic Movies all the time. One of the emotional high points of both the book and the movie are when King Richard chooses to reveal himself to Robin Hood and his band, and stands up and throws back his hood to show his face. Everyone immediately recognizes the King, and they all kneel before him, and they all bow their heads. It gave me goose bumps when I was a kid, and it still does whenever I watch the movie.

That mistaken identity thing, or just not recognizing someone, is a very common theme in books and movies and TV shows. Mark Twain used it in “The Prince and the Pauper.” A similar theme shows up in the 1983 Eddie Murphy movie “Trading Places.” I don’t know how far back in history this plot device goes, but it’s still in use today and probably will be as long as books and plays are written.

Both of our scripture readings this morning hinge on someone not recognizing God. I guess in our Gospel reading it’s more specifically about not recognizing Jesus.

The disciples are out fishing, and although many of them are professionals they don’t catch any fish. This random guy on the beach tells

them to throw their nets over on the other side of the boat. They do, and all of a sudden they have more fish than they can haul in. Then, and only then, does one of them recognize Jesus.

You sometimes wonder if the reality of the resurrection hadn’t quite sunk in for the disciples. Maybe they were a long way from the shore. Maybe they really couldn’t see Jesus well enough to realize that was him. They’d been traveling the countryside with him and observed him from far away and from close up for three years, and they’d already seen him risen a couple of times after the crucifixion and the resurrection, but let’s say that they couldn’t see him well enough to recognize him.

They sure could hear him, though. They could hear him shouting instructions, because they followed the instructions. They took up their nets from one side of the boat and cast them out on the other side. Even if they couldn’t see Jesus well enough to recognize him, you would think that if they heard him well enough to follow instructions that they would have heard him well enough to know who he was.

But they didn’t. At least not until they got their miracle and all those fish showed up in the nets. Not just a bunch of fish, not just a large quantity of fish, not just a mess of fish, but one hundred and fifty three fish precisely. Large ones. Once they had their miracle, once they had their one hundred and fifty three fish, they recognized Jesus.

That reminds me of the old joke about the guy who falls off a cliff. As he’s falling down and down and down he grabs hold of a little branch hanging out of the side of the cliff. He’s holding on for dear life, but the cliff is too sheer for him to climb up, it’s too far for him to let go and drop down, his grip is starting to slip on the leaves of the branch, and the branch itself is starting to pull out of the side of his cliff.

The guy shouts out a prayer. “God,” he says, “God, I’ve never believed in you. But I need you now more than I ever have. Can you hear me God? Are you up there God? Is anyone up there? If you’re up there God, please save me. Please rescue me.”

And a voice comes from the heavens – “I have heard your prayers, my child. Trust me, and release your hold on the branch, and I will catch you and keep you safe.”

The guy pauses a minute, and then he shouts, “Is there anyone else up there?”

Sometimes we’re like John and Peter and the rest of the disciples. We don’t recognize God in the ordinary and the routine and the boring stuff of life. We don’t recognize God unless and until God does some big, miraculous, fancy thing. It’s a challenge to see God in the regular old life that we lead from day to day.

When I come home from work Julia usually asks me if anything interesting happened, and I usually say no. Most of the time there isn’t a fatal accident, or a childbirth, or a shooting, or whatever. Most of the time nothing terribly exciting happens, at least nothing terribly exciting to me because I’ve gotten used to it.

But I don’t need for some exciting thing to happen to recognize God. I don’t need to wait for a successful childbirth delivery, or someone whose life is saved by timely CPR instructions, to see God. I don’t need to wait for us to save a suicidal person threatening to jump off a bridge or shoot themselves to see God. If I’m paying attention, it’s just as big a miracle that nothing happened. It’s just as big a miracle that everyone was safe. There are a million and a half people in Fairfax County. God is just as present on the days that nothing happens as he is on the days that we have the big spectacular stuff. I just don’t notice. I just don’t recognize God.

In our reading from Acts, God gets missed twice, at least. First, it’s Saul – the guy that we know better as the apostle Paul. There is a bright light, Saul falls to the ground, he can’t see anything, and he hears a voice asking “Why do you persecute me?” I want to give Saul credit in that he seems to recognize that this might be God when he says, “Who are you, Lord?” It’s not clear if he means Lord in the sense of a superior, like lords

and ladies, or my lord and master, or the lord of the manor, it’s not clear if he means Lord in that sense or in the sense of God.

But whether he recognized all of this as being from God or not, he didn’t recognize it as Jesus, at least not immediately. The disciples didn’t recognize Jesus because until the big haul of fish it was just routine old life as usual. I think Saul didn’t recognize Jesus until Jesus identifies himself because he perceived what had happened – his fall, his blindness, as bad things.

That happens to us too. We often think that God cannot be found in the hard or difficult things that happen in our lives. I don’t know how many times I’ve sat with people going through painful times and they’ve said, “Why me? I can’t believe that God is doing this to me. Why me?”

People write books about those questions and don’t ever resolve them. I’m going to try to say what I think very briefly. “Why me” is a fair question. The other side of that is “Why not me?” Why shouldn’t I suffer as other people suffer sometimes? That doesn’t mean I like it or I want it, but I’m not a better person than anyone else. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. We all are worthy of death.

Yet another side of that is “Why her? Why him?” Again, “why me” is a fair question, but it’s a question that lots and lots and lots of people who go through hard things can ask. We had a meal last night with friends and the

husband was talking about his daughter that was born with Spina Bifida. Why her? She was a baby. She hadn’t hurt anyone. Why me? Well, why her? On almost any rational scale, it should probably be me instead of her.

There are folks who believe that God causes bad things to happen in order to test our faith and bring us some sort of spiritual growth. I don’t necessarily believe that, but I recognize that there is scriptural support for that idea and there is a large body of theology that teaches that. I’m not saying that I know those people are wrong because I don’t know everything about God’s will and God’s intent.

One of the ways that I think about it, though, is that everyone makes choices and choices have consequences. We have the gift of free will. I have undoubtedly made bad choices along the way, and I have suffered some consequences for them. I also have made choices that other people have probably suffered consequences for, and I am probably suffering consequences of some sort for choices other people have made. I don’t think that God necessarily caused those choices or those consequences. I do think that God can help something good come out of them. I do think that God can help us find meaning in them. I do think that God can use the bad choices I’ve made and the bad choices other people have made and the negative consequences that come from all of those things and use them to help me, to help others, and to help the world.

Saul doesn’t recognize God at first because he perceives that something bad has happened to him. Later he does recognize God, and good things come. Saul’s life of rebellion against Jesus, of persecution of Christians even unto death, lead in the end to good and positive things in his life and in the lives of others he ministers to and with.

And it’s Saul’s past life that at first trips up the third person who fails to recognize God – Ananias. Ananias seems to recognize that it’s God talking to him. I mean, the first words out of his mouth after God says his name are, “Here I am, Lord.” That’s a good start!

But then when he gets his instructions Ananias isn’t so sure. “Lord, I’ve heard of this guy Saul. And what I’ve heard… uh, well, uh… it isn’t good. Lord, he kills Christians. And he has authority from the chief priests to imprison us.” To give him full credit, God says again what he wants, Ananias obeys him, and Ananias lays his hands on Saul, and Saul’s sight is restored.

We judge people based on their backgrounds, or their histories, or their reputations. That can keep us from seeing God in them and with them. That was one of the things that was so troubling about political leaders referring to gang members, mostly MS-13, as animals.

No one actually defends MS-13 or what they do. It’s a terrible organization, just as all similar gangs are. Bloods, Crips, 18th Street, and

many, many more that don’t get nearly as much publicity do terrible heinous, and yes, animalistic things. I have to watch footage of gang activity from time to time. I have to listen to tapes and calls and it’s not pleasant at all.

But although they do terrible things, although they do animalistic, evil things, in the end they are not animals (except in the scientific, biological sense like all of us are.) They are human beings, created in the image of God. They are people for whom Christ died. They are not unlike Saul, who persecuted and tortured and killed Christians in terrible ways, but who God used to share the gospel with a significant portion of the known world of that day.

It doesn’t have to be something as awful as criminal gangs. For some, it’s politics or religion. I read an excellent, excellent article on Buzzfeed last week about Katie McHugh and her journey into and out of white nationalism. David French wrote a good piece in National Review about the shootings at the synagogue in Poway, California called “Dealing With the Shock of an Evangelical Terrorist.” There are folks that will look at McHugh and at the Poway shooter and because of their histories will not grant them humanity, will not recognize that they are children of God.

It happens when people look at President Trump, and Secretary Clinton, at Senator Sanders, at Rep. Ocasio-Cortez, at Sen. Cruz, at any

number of people regardless of their politics. People make judgements about evangelical Christians and progressive Christians and Muslims and atheists. We look at someone and make a judgment about their humanity and their worth based on their religion or their politics or any number of other things.

And that’s wrong. That is not recognizing that they are people for whom Christ died. That is not recognizing the ways in which God can use them, despite actions and views that we think may be wrong. That is not recognizing the voice of the Spirit in whatever form it may come.

Throughout the Bible God speaks through sinners and terrible people. God even speaks through animals, like Balaam’s donkey. Figure out who your least favorite political or religious leader is, and remind yourself that if God can speak through someone who killed Christians, if God can speak through a donkey, God can speak through that person too. That doesn’t mean that God IS speaking through that person, but we have to be open to the reality that God COULD speak through that person.

As we leave here I pray that we can be open to see the world around us as God’s creation. I pray that we can see the people around us, whether it’s around us in our own lives or around us in newspapers and on television and the internet, as real people. I pray that we can see and recognize God moving

comprehension in and through people who are also beyond our understanding and comprehension. I pray that however he comes, we recognize God. Amen.

We need resurrection

Preacher: Nathan Hosler

Scripture: Luke 24:1-12, 1 Corinthians 15:19-26

We need a resurrection.

We need a resurrection.

I first thought this phrase while in church last Sunday, feeling beleaguered and discouraged in this very sanctuary.

We need a resurrection.

The next day on Monday, the 5th Anniversary of the abduction of 276 schoolgirls from Chibok and burning of the 900-year-old glorious Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and the death of the mother of a colleague my age—these had me groaning or whispering, “we need a resurrection.” And not in a triumphant way or in a “I know I’m going to use this in a sermon” sort of way that might make me somehow more pious or spiritual or less prone to despair.

We need a resurrection.

But then on Tuesday there was that bright red cardinal in the tree. In the low dawn light of the street it’s red popped just a bit more than usual. First on the tree and then on to the long dead sunflower skeleton still standing in our yard lashed to the neighbor’s fence. The same bird as the day before (I presume) gathering seeds from the small seed heads that have long lost their radiant yellow petals.

At the end Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem last Sunday, amid cries of hosanna and the waving of palm branches, Jesus responded to his critics. He said if these people had not cried out, the stones would have shouted. The bright petals and blossoms of spring feel like a resurrection but these old bodies left from last year, having passed through winter, lacked a resurrection.

The stones will cry out! The creation surges forth eager to cry out in praise for the creator. The Word was with God and the Word was God. The Word was present at creation and participated as the agent of this creation. The creation which was declared good and remains good even against the continued abuse by humanity. This very creation which surges as a river or lies in the still water of the marshy river edges. The rivers which, if cared for (or at times even just left alone), can be healed and contribute to healing. It is the creation in the stones which are worn smooth or remain jagged these stones and this river will cry out—will shout out, raising their voice in praise of the one who brought them into being and brings healing through the reconciling word.

If the people had not cried out, “hosanna,” Jesus says, if these people of Jerusalem had not cried out waving their branches in praise and celebration then the seemingly inert stones would have raised their stony voices. For even these stones know the one who redeems.

Creation cries out. It is both a groan of waiting for the coming savior, the need for resurrection, and a glorious shout of praise. It is not valuable simply because commercial value can be extracted from it. It is not of value simply because it can be molded or cut or diverted into something more “practical” or something for humans to consume. All of creation cries out on its own.

“For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace;

the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Isaiah 55

We, along with creation—as part of creation—we cry out. Last Sunday we cried out “Hosanna!” with the coming of Jesus—a triumphant donkey riding One of Peace. This week we cried out—“we need a resurrection.” The desperate cry of despair at the crucifixion makes even the groan, we need a resurrection, seem too hopeful.

This morning after days of sorrow and the knowledge that on the third day the death is real—this morning the women who followed Jesus, and who will become the first apostles, went to the tomb to care for the corpse of their hope. The pierced hands through which powerful healing flowed—stilled, and the mouth from which words of peace and repentance proclaimed—silenced. The back which bent to lift and wash feet laid flat without power. This is what they knew. Death had dealt a crushing blow. The women, whose hope seems to have died, knew this.

They needed a resurrection.

We need a resurrection.

Who will bring new life? Who will resuscitate hope lost?

Do you have that power? Do I have the wherewithal to bring hope, much-less life? This task is far beyond us.

In the book of Job, God challenges Job, highlighting his limitations in relation to God. The Lord asks,

“Have you entered into the springs of the sea, or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have the gates of death been revealed to you, or have you seen the gates of deep darkness? Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth? Declare, if you know all this.

“Where is the way to the dwelling of light, and where is the place of darkness, that you may take it to its territory and that you may discern the paths to its home?”

We have such little power—we need a resurrection.

As it turns out—we have a resurrection.

Which you already knew.

We have a resurrection!

And which I knew earlier this week when all I could mutter was the need for a resurrection. I knew it but didn’t quite feel it—somehow it felt distant or elusive.

The women at the grave—those for whom embodied hope had literally died—the women at the grave were confronted with a startling announcement. Jesus is alive! Christ is risen! [congregation]—“He is risen indeed!

The power that had created all and had blown the breath of life into humanity, this same power acted in the Crucified One and brought life and in the process conquered the grave.

Christ is risen! [congregation]—“He is risen indeed!

At least this is eventually how this mysterious disappearance and announcement of Easter morning come to be understood. At first it is just startling, perhaps confusing, too good to be true. But then the pieces start coming together. It is noted that with a little prodding the women remember that Jesus had in fact talked about being raised but that they had not understood him at the time. Not only do the disciples begin to understand this shocking event in light of Jesus’ own teaching but they begin to see how this relates to their scriptures—the first part of our Bible. They also begin to think through the implications and read it theologically.

While our own thinking is certainly not as definitive as the writers of the New Testament we join in this task. Naim Ateek, a Palestinian theologian writes, “The prophetic imperative directs that the Church should dare to analyze and interpret events theologically” (Ateek, Justice and only Justice: A Palestinian Theology of Liberation, 152)

The resurrection of Christ, according to Apostle Paul, is not simply a flourish or add-on snappy ending. He writes,

“17 If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. 18 Then those also who have died[e] in Christ have perished. 19 If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.

20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. 21 For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; 22 for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. 24 Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has destroyed every ruler and every authority and power. 25 For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. 26 The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

Death is conquered. Futility is conquered. We are called to live in light of this. We are filled with the same Spirit and as such is not simply us trying slog on through. The memory and reality of this animate us. It is not simply an inspirational poster on the classroom wall but the very shape of the universe. All creation calls for proclaiming, in calling out in great joy—the power of death has been overcome!

A New Thing

Preacher: Jeff Davidson

Scripture: Isaiah 43:16-21

Sports fans are familiar with the concept of “tanking.” In baseball the Baltimore Orioles are actually a good example of this right now. The Orioles have been a good team for several years. Last year they were not a good team, even though they had a lot of the same players they’d had when they were good. But some of those players had gotten a little older and weren’t as good as they used to be, and weren’t likely to get better again. If the Orioles were going to get back to being a contending team they needed to get rid of these older, higher-priced players. This would give them room on their roster to try out a whole lot of younger players, players who both might develop to be better than the older players and who would be a lot less expensive to pay than the older players. This would free up money to invest in finding and signing even more good young players.

The downside of all this is that it means that for the next two or three years, the Orioles are likely to lose a lot of games. They aren’t necessarily trying to lose these games – the players are playing as hard as they can and trying to win. But they aren’t good enough to win, at least not yet, and

that means that they will lose more games in the short term, which gives them better draft choices of amateur players, which means that in the long term they are likely to get better and contend again. Does that make sense?

That’s what is meant by tanking. Putting together a team that is young and cheap and not likely to win now, in hopes that they will develop and that you can find and sign some better young players and be a good team again in a few years. It is very difficult and very frustrating for fans to watch a team that is tanking, but the fans usually understand what’s going on and are willing to put up with losing now in the hopes of winning in the future. It has become a part of the regular cycle for sports teams.

In Psalm 126, our Call to Worship today, we see this interplay of hard times and of good times, of struggle followed by joy. In verses 1 and 2 it says, “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy;” The laughter and the joy comes after Zion’s fortunes are restored, which means the laughter and the joy come after something bad and difficult and hard. The laughter and the joy come after a time of turmoil and a time of desolation. You see it again in the prayer captured in verses 4 through 6, particularly in verse 6. “Those who go out weeping, bearing the

seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.” With faith in God after pain comes rejoicing, after risk and work comes reward.

I preached a sermon here several years ago about being adopted. I don’t remember if it was after Nate and Jenn started worshipping with us or if it was before then when I was doing pulpit supply around 2005 or so. To sum that part of it up, I’ve known ever since I was a little child that I was adopted. When I was around 40 or so my doctor recommended that I see if I could find out anything about the medical history of either of my birth parents, as things related to that can start to develop more as we get older.

I asked my parents if they knew anything, and they had a possible name, and they said they would see if there was anything more that they could find out. I took the name that they gave me and played around on Google a little bit and found a couple of other names, maybe, but not really enough to do anything with or about.

A while later when I was visiting my parents they gave me an envelope with all kinds of information about my birth mother. They learned that I had been named Derrell Gebhart at birth, and they had learned who my birth mother was. They had visited a couple of her sisters, one of whom was related to a family that we knew. They had found some pictures of my

birth mother, including a high school graduation picture and others that her sisters had, and they had recorded some stories and information from her sisters. They told me that I had four brothers and sisters. They’d learned that my birth mother had died of ALS several years ago.

I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do with all of this information. I’d just wanted to know a little bit about my medical history – I wasn’t trying to do any genealogical research or anything. I couldn’t process all of it and so I mostly didn’t do anything with it. I let it sit.

A year or so ago my sister-in-law Gaye bought a package of Ancestry.com DNA kits for family members. She had one left over, and wondered if I would be interested in using it. I was – I’m a little bit interested in history and I’d heard stories about my Davidson ancestry being German/Irish, and I wondered if that was true. It didn’t occur to me at all that this test would not trace my Davidson ancestry; it would trace my Gebhart ancestry, my birth ancestry.

When the results come back on these things, there are different pages to click on that give you different information. The first one that I looked at was about geography, and I learned that based on this DNA sample they estimate that a large percentage of my ancestry is from England, generally speaking – Great Britain, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland.

A smaller percentage is from the Scandinavian countries and Western Europe.

Then there was a tab for possible DNA matches with other people. I clicked on this tab, and then I knew. The first name it showed was a possible first cousin, and I realized that it was a match from my birth family. I recognized this person’s maiden name as the same as my mother’s last name after marriage. I knew it was possible we were first cousins, but I don’t know if I had considered that we were a closer relation than that.

I wasn’t ready to do anything with the information. I’m not sure if I even told Julia about it – I thought I did, but she says I didn’t. Anyway, I just let it sit.

A few months later this person I matched with wrote to me asking if I knew how we could be connected. She couldn’t figure out how we could be cousins and couldn’t find the connection. I still wasn’t ready, and still didn’t do anything.

A week or two ago it occurred to me that I should probably write back to her. I thought that it wasn’t fair for my own uncertainties to leave her with questions about herself or her family that she couldn’t answer. I wrote back that I thought we might be connected through my mother and shared what information I could remember. The material my parents prepared is still

boxed up somewhere after our last move, I think, so while I could remember her maiden name was Gebhart I couldn’t remember her first name for sure.

She wrote back with her mother’s name and wondered if we might share the same mother. I replied that since I wasn’t sure about my birth mother’s first name I couldn’t say based on that, but that there was one piece of information I remembered that might settle it. My birth mother died of ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease.

She replied that so had hers. I was pretty sure We were brother and sister.

I’ve spent the last few years withdrawing from people emotionally I think. My work takes a toll on me, and my coping mechanisms for the stress of work are to eat mindlessly and watch TV or play games on the Internet mindlessly. My sister Lori, who I grew up with and was also adopted, died a couple of years ago. I got closer to my parents during the year or two that they lived with us, but then they moved back to Ohio so there is a lot more geographic distance and the various issues they are dealing with can create some emotional distance sometimes.

All of that is to say that while this wasn’t totally unexpected once I’d seen the DNA results, I still wasn’t sure how to feel about it. My sister

shared that she was struggling with mixed feelings too. Her first message after we confirmed our relationship said near the beginning, “It’s almost more than I can grasp and at this point I feel kind of numb” and said near the end, “…despite the pain I am thankful our paths have crossed.” While I worked with and through the pain of never having known my birth mother, she had a pain that was almost the opposite: the pain of thinking you knew someone and finding that they had a secret or hidden past and maybe you didn’t know them after all.

Over the last week or two we’ve both made strides processing our feelings and reaching some conclusions. Her last message to me ended saying, “P.S. As time goes on and the shock of all this wears off I have to tell you I am so excited to have another brother.” I feel the same way about her and the three other siblings I haven’t met yet.

The theme of great joy coming after great pressure or pain or worry or stress is a common one in the Bible and in life itself. We talked about how it shows in our Call to Worship, Psalm 126. Our scripture reading from Isaiah opens with a reminder of the bravery it took to have faith and trust that God would part the waters so that Israel could escape from Egypt. We see in nature examples of butterflies that come from cocoons, or flowers that grow from bulbs.

One of the most famous sermons of the 20th century is called “It’s Friday, But Sunday’s Coming.” It was made famous by the sociologist Dr. Tony Campolo, who adapted it from a sermon by the great African-American preacher the Rev. Dr. S. M. Lockridge. (Shadrach Meshach Lockridge.) Lockridge was a pastor for decades in San Diego, and wrote a sermon around the darkness of Friday, when Jesus was on the cross, dying. The disciples were discouraged. Peter had denied Jesus three times. The man they believed was the Messiah, the Son of God, had died on a cross like a common criminal.

But Lockridge’s message was to not be discouraged. It was Friday, yes, but Sunday is coming. The resurrection is coming. We should cling to our faith in God, because the blood of redemption, pouring out of the broken places of Christ’s body, truly redeems on the Sunday that is to come. Easter Sunday when Jesus is risen from the grave and his followers see his victory over the grave.

We are going through something of a Friday as a congregation. We’ve had families who were important and active members of our body move away. We’ve seen our attendance at worship go up and then back down again, and we have difficulty sometimes in finding people to fill the spots that need to be filled in our administrative structure.

It’s easy to be discouraged, but Sunday is coming. God is doing a new thing. I don’t know what it will look like, but I know it will be wonderful whatever it is.

We’re going through something of a Friday as a denomination. Along with a lot of other denominations attendance and giving are down, evangelism in multi-cultural settings is a challenge, and we are facing differences that seem like they may be impossible to reconcile around certain issues. The denomination may end up splitting.

It’s easy to be discouraged, but Sunday is coming. God is doing a new thing. Whether that means a Spirit-led renewal within our own denomination or two new denominations no longer arguing over various issues but each moving forward with God’s Spirit and God’s leading as they discern it I don’t know, but I know that whichever of those happens it will be wonderful.

We all have pressures and doubts and pain in our own lives. It may feel like Friday, but Sunday is coming. God is doing a new thing. I don’t know what it is for you, but I know that God will lead you through it and that you will end up in a much better place as a result.

In my situation, I know what at least part of the new thing is. I have a new relationship with a sister and at least a couple of nieces. I spoke on

Facebook yesterday with a new brother. I have some new family to be connected with, new stories to learn and to share, new memories to make. I know what the new thing is, although I still don’t know what all it will look like, but I know that God is in it and it will be wonderful.

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing.” Thank God for the new thing. Amen.

Come to the Waters (embracing bounty)

Preacher: Nathan Hosler

Scripture: Isaiah 55:1-9, Corinthians 10:1-13, Luke 13:1-9

In the book of Exodus, the once inarticulate Moses faces the Pharaoh backed by the power of God first appearing to him in a burning bush in the desert. As the Hebrew people head into the wilderness, they are followed by the Egyptian army which is driven by the recognition that their emancipated slaves are not coming back—that the subjugated people who had done their work were perhaps too easily set free. Up against the Red Sea and certain destruction, Moses led them through the sea. The cloud of the presence of God veiled them while a great wind was sent to divide the waters.

The Apostle Paul picks this up and reads it Christologically—that is, through Christ. In this passing through the waters of the sea, the Israelites fleeing the Egyptians are saved. The Apostle reads the water as a baptism. A passing through Christ’s death into life. For in Romans we read, Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. (Romans 6:4)). They were saved by passing through these waters.

Come to the water.

Paul writes “all passed through the sea, 2 and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, 3 and all ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ.”

Not only was the water of the sea a baptism but the rock in the desert out of which a sustaining water flowed was Christ. The Christ which appeared centuries later but whom the Gospel of John asserts was present and participating in the creation of the world, the Spirit hovered over the waters—this is the one whom Paul proclaims as the fount of water in the desert—in the time of need this one is the living water. Come to the waters.

The prophet Isaiah exhorts,

“everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

This sounds like a great deal. It isn’t even buy one get one 50% off. This is like a free fancy think tank reception where you not only get hear an interesting talk about policy but get nice food while on a BVS budget. However, my dad, who is a very practical fellow, used to say some variation that “nothing is free.” Which is, of course, true. Someone picks up the cost because they care about something or have an interest in you caring about it.

In Luke we read, At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. 2 He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? 3 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. 4 Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”

There is a persistent notion that bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to good people—at least when we observe others. So, when something bad happens we assume that they did something bad and if something bad happens to us or our friends we ask—why me? Certainly, the Galileans who were defiled by Pilate must have sinned. Certainly, those on whom the tower fell must have really ticked off God.

Jesus, however, disconnects a negative occurrence from that of punishment. Those who suffered in this way are no worse than you! However, he also seems to reattach it. Those who died in these tragedies were not being punished for their particularly heinous crimes. Rather, all deserve a harsh retribution and it is only by a particular grace and mercy that we make it through. He seems to imply all of us should die in a tower collapse but don’t by God’s mercy—this is a type of comforting. It also feels like it could be ominous and threatening. The intent is rather to get us to focus. Because of the gravity of our action or inaction and intentions we should take this seriously. Though God is radically graceful we must not be presumptuous.

A commentator writes, “Luke does not destroy severity by infusing grace, nor does he destroy grace by infusing severity. As a theologian he knows that any mixing of severity and grace or any attempt to average them will result in neither severity or grace” (Craddock, Luke¸167). It is not that grace and mercy balances out justice or punishment in some sort of neutral middle—like white and black paint make grey or green and red make a muddy brown. Rather, they both exist.

The passage continues with a parable of a fruit tree—a fig fruit tree.

6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’”

Here the issue of fruit is ventured. A fig tree, not unlike our own likely dead fig tree, does not produce. The only reason it exists is to produce fruit for its owner. The owner is persuaded to have patience when it doesn’t produce as anticipated. This picture of divine patience follows the teaching which presents both grace and punishment, mercy and justice. The Apostle exhorts, “We must not put Christ to the test.”

He continues “So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall. 13 No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful… [you will not] be tested beyond your strength.

Come to the water! This water is free (for you). For God it is a costly gift. A gift that requires patience and as we will discover in Holy Week a great sacrifice. The water of life is not free so that we can muddy it and abuse it—note here the parallels between both the gifts of physical waterways that we humans often damage or destroy and the spiritual water of life that we muddy through distractedness and injustice. The season of Lent invites us to focus. The movement towards Easter and the pain of Holy Week beckons us towards abiding with God, the source of life. The imminent death of Jesus will provide the greatest challenge to the false theology that the Galileans who were defiled by Pilate or those 18 who died in the collapsing tower were worse than us.

The water of life is given to us in abundance. While it isn’t earned, it requires much of us. This is part of Kameron Carter’s critique of white theology in Race: a Theological Account. It says we can do theology separately from the realities of the world in which towers collapse and kill people because those supposed to be responsible cared more for their money or power than the people. This is artist Ai Wei Wei’s documentation of the collapsed school buildings in China which thousands of school children died.

Our enjoying the abundant water of life is not somehow separate from the racism that allows communities of color in this country to be poisoned by their water which is polluted by others. The question that the crucified Holy One of God will bring is not “what did the suffering ones do to deserve this?” but what did those with any power do or neglect to do that caused their suffering?

“everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!”

Come to the waters! Come to drink from the abundant water of life. It is free but it will turn your life upside down!

Come to drink from the abundant water of life. It is free but it will turn your life upside down! You may no longer live for yourself. The water of life that rushes from the Christ in the desert

revives you to be a conduit of life and justice and mercy. The God of mercy is the source, but you have the privilege participate in this good work. Come to the waters!

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, 11 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

12 For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. 13 Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.”

Come to the waters! Come drink from the abundant water of life.

Forty

Preacher: Jeff Davidson

Scripture: Luke 4:1-13

Numerology is the branch of knowledge that deals with the occult significance of numbers. What I am talking about here is not numerology. While these numbers may have some significance in the Bible, they have no special power. They are not predictive of anything. There is nothing of the occult about them.

There are at least three numbers that show up in various ways in the Bible. One of them is the number three. With three, it’s not just a Bible thing. Two is company, but how many are a crowd? Three. How many times is a charm? The third time. Bad news or celebrity deaths or the deaths of people that we care about seem to come in – yes, threes.

Who can tell me some threes in the Bible? The trinity – God the Father or Creator, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Peter denied Jesus three times. The rooster crowed three times. Noah had three sons. Three visitors appeared to Abraham. Jonah was in the belly of the fish for three days. Jesus was in the tomb three days. In John 21 Jesus affirms his love three times. Jesus’ public ministry lasted three years. Even in our

scripture reading today Jesus is tempted three times, and three times responds with scripture.

Another significant number is seven. How many sevens in the Bible can we think of? The first and most obvious is the seven days of creation. No animal could be sacrificed until it was seven days old. There are seven “I am’s” in the Gospel of John that Jesus used when He spoke of Himself. Jesus mentions seven woes (or judgments) on the unrepentant in Matthew 23. In Revelation there were seven letters to the seven churches in the Book of Revelation and there were also seven trumpets announcing judgments by God in the Book of Revelation. We are to forgive people seventy times multiplied by… seven. Joshua and Israel marched around Jericho seven times while seven priests blew seven trumpets before the walls came crashing down. Elisha told the military commander Naaman to bathe in the Jordan River seven times and he would be healed of his leprosy. There are plenty more sevens that I was not aware of at all.

How about forty? What are some forties that you remember from the Bible? One of them should be easy – Jesus went into the wilderness for forty days and prayed and fasted. So did Elijah and Moses. The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years. The rains that brought about the Great Flood lasted for forty days. In the Old Testament, forty years is considered a generation. Goliath taunted Israel for forty days before David

defeated him. Just like with threes and sevens, there are still more forties that we could mention.

This is the first Sunday in Lent. Lent is a period that lasts how long? Forty days, not counting Sunday. The word “lent” comes from an Anglo-Saxon word that meant “spring”, and the forty days of Lent are a symbolic reenactment of the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness and that we read about just a little while ago. The reason that Sundays don’t count in the forty days of Lent is that each Sunday represents kind of a mini Easter in anticipation of the resurrection to come. Sunday is a special day all on its own aside from Lent.

A lot of times people give up something for Lent. Sometimes it’s something they enjoy eating or drinking or doing but they want to give it up as a way to discipline themselves. Chocolate is something that a lot of people give up. Sometimes it’s television, or social media. I once gave up French fries for Lent, and I made it. I had no French fries for the forty days plus Sundays, and I survived. Somehow.

Today’s theme in our series of Lenten services is “In the Wilderness” and encourages us to think about facing temptation. There are a couple of examples from the forty list we had earlier of being in the wilderness, literally, and both of those involved facing temptation.

The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for forty years before finally entering the Promised Land. There had to be temptation along the way – temptation to give up. Temptation to just stop where they were and put down some roots. Temptation to forget about God’s promises, forget about the covenant, forget about the Promised Land and what might be waiting ahead.

There are plenty of times in Scripture where the Israelites are complaining about something or other. They’re complaining about not having food, not having water, later they complain about the food that God provides. Each of those reflect a temptation – a temptation to chuck it all and go out on their own away from where God has called them.

And every time that happens, what does Moses do? He reminds them of all the good things that God has done. God brought you out of Egypt. God provided you manna. God did this and God did that and God has met your needs and God continues to guide you. Moses reminds them of their history, of God’s words and actions and commands in their lives.

When Jesus is tempted, that’s what he does too. Three times Satan tempts Jesus. Each time Jesus answers with scripture, with things that God has said about how we are or are not fed, or who we are to worship or what God says about tests. Jesus refers back to scripture, and takes his cues from God’s word and God’s leading.

Actually it’s a little deeper than that. The three passages that Jesus quotes are from Deuteronomy, and Deuteronomy is the book that sums up the lessons that God taught the Israelites during their wanderings in the wilderness. Lessons of trust in God that the Israelites had to learn time and time again as they wandered in the wilderness and later as they abandoned God yet again and demanded a human king for themselves are repeated through the example of God’s son Jesus Christ with his own time of temptation in the wilderness.

The flood was forty days. Okay, a flood isn’t usually what we think of when we think of wilderness, but aside from the boat all that’s left is God’s creation. Water, animals, birds, fish, humans, and whatever of the earth lies beneath the water after forty days of rain. The waters begin to subside after around 150 days. And then once the ark is on dry ground, God establishes a covenant with Noah that renews the relationship between the Creator and the creation.

After Jesus comes out of the wilderness, he begins his public ministry. Luke chapters 1 through 3 are all about the birth of Jesus, the boy Jesus in the Temple, John the Baptist, the baptism of Jesus, but Jesus really hasn’t done very much yet. It’s not until after his forty days of temptation in the wilderness that his ministry really begins. It’s not until after the forty days of temptation that the new covenant of the kingdom of God is proclaimed.

The lesson of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness isn’t just that we can rely on scripture to help us resist temptation, although that is part of it. The lesson isn’t just that God can and will strengthen us to stand up to Satan and to the earthly powers that he represents, but that’s part of it too. Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness doesn’t simply mean that our faith in God is enough to make it through extended times of loss and loneliness. That’s true, but there’s more than that.

After the time in the wilderness comes the good stuff. After the time in the wilderness comes some great event that sets the tone for the future. After the time in the wilderness God’s blessing is poured out.

What came after forty days of rain and then the water receding? A promise from God that the earth would never again be covered with a flood, and the opportunity for humankind to start again. What was next after forty years of wandering in the wilderness? The Israelites entered into their own country, their own promised land. What happened after forty days of Goliath’s mocking? David defeated Goliath and rescued Israel from its enemies.

And what’s after Jesus praying and fasting and resisting temptation for forty days? He begins his public ministry. God’s kingdom is proclaimed on earth in a way that it never has been before. God has come to earth in human form, and will die, and will rise again.

That’s even how it is for us in our simple little Lenten disciplines. If you give up sweets for forty days you know what? You’ll be healthier afterwards. If you give up candy, or French fries, or television, or Facebook, you’ll probably be healthier and happier and less stressed out. It’s not as good as the kingdom of God, but it’s still good nevertheless and it can provide the basis for a healthier way of living that could revolutionize your life if you let it.

Time in the wilderness, resisting temptation, relying on God, trusting God, and obeying God, can bring us renewal in so many ways. I know that it is true, and I pray that you will find it so in your own life whether it’s days or months or years, whether it’s three or seven or forty. Amen.

Seraphs (each with 6 wings), Fishes (so many)

Preacher: Nathan Hosler

Scripture: Isaiah 6:1-8(9-13), 1 Corinthians 15;1-6, Luke 5:1-11

Isaiah, when facing God’s majesty, said “I am not worthy”

An angel came and touched his lips with a coal to purify him and take away his guilt.

Paul, when considering his call as an apostle, said “I am unworthy because I persecuted God’s people.”

It is through God’s grace that he was given this ministry.

Peter, when Jesus instructed one more cast of the net after a long night of empty net—which resulted in so many fishes that the nets just about broke, said “Go away from me for I am sinful.”

Encountering the power of God, these three recognized their deficiencies, their guilt, and perceived their unworthiness—they were then purified, absolved, and empowered to launch into the work that God called them

Encountering the power of God, these three recognized their deficiencies, their guilt, and perceived their unworthiness—they were then purified, absolved, and empowered to launch into the work that God called them

This was not simply a subjective lack of self-esteem or timidity or fabricated humility. It is not someone on stage saying they are “humbled” at the point of great success or an award. It is not my overwhelming introversion when I arrive at an event that the only reason I am attending is to network for my job.

Paul was called to proclaim Jesus after he had hunted down and thrown people who followed Jesus into prison. Paul, who was formerly Saul, oversaw the stoning of the first martyr of the church. He then took up the attack of the Jesus followers with terrifying zeal. In Acts 8 we read, “That day a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria… Saul was ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women, he committed them to prison…[and in the next chapter]… Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem” (Acts 9).

So when the Apostle Paul (the one formerly known as Saul) says that “I am unworthy “to be a proclaimer of Jesus except through the grace of God he means it literally. He isn’t just saying this because it the correct and humble thing to say. The transformation and renewal are profound. But it is not just so that he can have a comforted conscience—he is given serious work to do. In fact, he says that he does it more intensely than everyone else. Which is hard not to hear as bragging (which may be why I don’t think in the earlier section he is being falsely humble).

The prophet Isaiah, when faced with the dazzling and terrifying presence of God initially shrinks in fear. The scene is dramatic:

“Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. 2 Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. 3 And one called to another and said:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

4 The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.”

While this might just sound kind of cool to us—I mean the “pivots on the thresholds” shaking basically sounds like Jake and I am a War in The Chapel studio or an evening at the Black Cat. While I don’t know Isaiah’s music of choice, he certainly was well aware of the danger of seeing God face to face. There was a precedent of this being an experience unlike others.

Facing God was not a normal Tuesday meeting. For example, though Moses interacted with God more than most he was also afraid to see God—”And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.” This is THE Moses. The God spoke through a burning bush to him Moses. The lead the people out of Egypt Moses. This Moses hid his face. When Moses receives the 10 commandments, receiving them from God…he glowed. We read in Exodus 34 “29 Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant[f] in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. 30 When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.” Even the residue of facing God struck fear.

And Peter. We know Peter as the first to speak—not shy and timid. Peter eventually received the “keys” to the kingdom from which the tradition of succession of the Pope was built and was a disciple—a star—a least a significant character of the story of Jesus. Before Peter was “Peter the theologically glamorous,” he is the Peter we have today. Peter was a fisher. Though it seems he owned the means of his production and labor—the boats and nets—he was one whose work was manual and stinky. Likely not the most prominent. Peter was young. Peter lived under occupation. Peter was not, it would have been guessed, a soon to be leader. Not only this but on this particular day Peter had been up all night unsuccessfully trying to catch fish. This was his profession and not only was it likely a source of professional pride, but it was a matter of survival. Peter and his colleagues in fishing had ended the excursion without fish.

In this context Jesus, the newish popular teacher asked to borrow a boat to use as a pulpit. At the conclusion of what was a teaching that didn’t manage to get recorded, Jesus instructs them to cast out once more and lower their nets for fish. The result is fish, so many fish. It is at this point that Peter cries out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

Three people. Three cases of recognizing unworthiness. When faced with the presence of the divine they rightly recoiled but were brought near by the mercy of God.

But there is more.

They are given work.

Jesus says to Peter the fisher of fish, you will be catch people. Does Peter know what this means? When I thought about it, it seemed less clear. I grew up with the song, “I will make you fishers of men…” The interpretation that we assumed was Jesus was calling them to be evangelists or preachers who would tell about Jesus and this would lead people to salvation. When I read this passage, however, I wondered what exactly Peter thought this meant when he left everything to follow Jesus. The analogy is actually not all that clear. Peter caught fish to sell them so that people could kill them and eat them. He wasn’t saving fish, he was destroying them. The fish weren’t drowning in the water in need of saving but thriving where they were supposed to be. Clearly the metaphor is limited. As we will see through the Gospels and Acts that it takes

several years for the Peter and the other disciples to get clear on exactly what this calling was calling them to. Peter was called and given work.

Isaiah is given the undesirable work to proclaim destruction.

‘Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand.’ 10 Make the mind of this people dull, and stop their ears, and shut their eyes, so that they may not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and comprehend with their minds, and turn and be healed.” 11 Then I said, “How long, O Lord?” And he said: “Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is utterly desolate; 12 until the Lord sends everyone far away, and vast is the emptiness in the midst of the land. 13 Even if a tenth part remain in it, it will be burned again, like a terebinth or an oak whose stump remains standing when it is felled.”

But within the destruction there remains hope for the future. The holy seed is its stump.

And Paul (formerly Saul) goes from a well educated (and probably successful leader) to a transient self-supporting (he made tents), ship wrecked, and oft-imprisoned preacher. Which, admittedly, sounds like a bad deal.

It is such bold action, however, after seeing God, that that both leads to faith and is a result of faith. For as we read in James, belief without action is dead. And in Hebrews 11 it is the faith shown by the “cloud of witnesses” that is the result of the grace of God and a sign of this. “They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, 14 for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.”

“Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.” Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. 2 Indeed, by faith[a] our ancestors received approval. 3 By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible…. (Hebrews 11)

It is to such faith and to such work that we are called. To proclaim with Paul the reconciling grace of God. To proclaim with Isaiah that even amidst destruction there is hope. And with Peter that Jesus has come near.