Sermon June 3, 2012

Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 29
Romans 8:12-17John 3:1-17

“Sensing God”

When we hear of some dates in our lives, they sometimes bring sights and sounds to our minds—our hearts may even skip a beat. If I say December 7, 1941 (Pearl Harbor), how many of you could tell me where you were or what you heard on that day? April 12, 1945(FDR died)? Or June 6, 1944 (D-Day)? November 22, 1963 (JFK assassinated)? April 4 or June 5, 1968 (MLK and RFK assassinated)? July 20, 1969 (peopled moon-landing) or November 9, 1989 (Berlin Wall fell)? Can you imagine what was going on around you in these moments or something very vivid about the environment around you?I remember that on April 19, 1995 (OKC bombing) I was eating hamburgers with some friends of mine in a little restaurant in Enid, Oklahoma. Why April 19, 1995? We started talking about how God worked in our lives. We discussed the nature of evil in the world and whether or not God intervenes in our lives when we are suffering. The pain and shock of that moment makes it memorable, so memorable that I know where I was when I found out that it had happened. And our words of comfort or confusion—at least the topic—are memorable to me, too.


When important and sometimes painful things happen they stick with us. We might even remember the sights and smells around us when they do. We might notice particular things that we've never noticed before. Smells often remind me of particular times—especially ones that seemed mundane. I spent a summer at a camp in southern Texas and the smell of cedar trees, especially in the heat always brings the memories of that summer back to me. What we see, hear, smell, taste and feel around us when we are aware of our surroundings can reveal something of God to us as well. Important dates, important times, even revelation will often move us more if those sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings are awakened.


We are reminded of the importance of events, like Isaiah was reminding the people of Israel . . .“In the year that King Uzziah died . . .” “remember that? Remember what you were doing when Uzziah died,” he said. Remember how things changed—for good or for bad, they changed. I remember for many reasons, but the biggest reason is the one I'm going to tell you about.”


The year that king Uzziah died was important to Israel, to Isaiah and likely to many people. This spiritual experience emphasized that transition of power for Isaiah even more fully. Not only did Uzziah die, he seems to be saying, but he said, “I had this incredible experience of God that made me see myself, my people and our inner selves more clearly than I had before this time. One events makes another more important—they enhance one another. When Uzziah died, I remember this because I saw God—or maybe even, I saw God and realized the great day of transition that was happening in the kingdom of Israel.”


In this vision, he saw God's throne in Jerusalem, enthroned in the temple. He saw that God was the ruler and king of Israel, ruling from the place of worship. God's political kingship had been rejected long before, but this was a reminder that whoever was ruling—God held the sceptor, the throne and the power. And this was the time when he was told about his purpose and the meaning for his life—he volunteered, or obeyed the call of God and so God gave him the message, a very difficult message to carry out.


But in these first moments, he was nervous, anxious and wondered if he were truly the one who should be witnessing the vision of God sitting in the temple. That was bad enough, to be worthy to worship God—then God had a job that needed to be done.


A question I contemplated this week in preparation for this morning was, “Can you remember a time when someone asked you to do something you didn’t think you could do?” And my answer? I remember thousands of times—or at least I remember that I doubted my abilities thousands of times. I remember the first time I was supposed to read a lesson in Sunday School—and I cried. But I also remember reading scripture in church later on. I remember forgetting a piece that I had memorized for a piano recital; and the next year panicking and refusing to participate. I also remember playing a full senior recital when I graduated from high school.


The doubts I have had of my own abilities rarely stemmed from a lack of God-given ability—but a lack of faith in those talents and an overwhelming anxiety at the possibility of failure when I would use those talents without adequate preparation.


When God calls upon us to use what we have been given to build the household of God in this time and place, God does not guarantee our success—even if we do it to the best of our ability with God's help. But God does call upon us to respond to whatever God calls us to do even if we anticipate failure. Whatever we do to promote the realm of God in this world is not failure, even if the results don't meet our own expectations.


Part of our anxiety is that we aren't always aware or able to pinpoint the presence of God or the action of God within our lives unless we look back—hindsight may be 20/20, but knowing what's ahead for us is usually lacking. We can know that God is with us—but we can't always know where exactly God is leading us beyond knowing that God's standards are love and justice.


The important moments in our lives—like those with which I began the sermon often make us more aware of God in our lives, even though sometimes we experience those times as profound absence or confusion. But even that absence can shock us into realizing how God has moved in our lives previously—we can remember what God has done even if we are confused about what God IS doing. Through those moments, in times of great loss, we also realize what it is that we have to give. Often we know, in those moments when national or global tragedy strikes, we have a chance to respond. And through those times, our eyes are opened to the everyday kinds of place where our gifts are needed, too.


I don't believe that God creates tragedies or other icon smashing events in our lives, but I read a quote this week that expresses very closely what I do believe. “Almost anything that happens to us may be woven into the purposes of God. It may lengthen our cords of sympathy. It may break our self-centered pride. The cross, which was willed by wicked men, was woven by God into the tapestry of world redemption.”¹


A small church in Louisiana is being renewed by virtue of purpose in a world of tragedy—and I'm sure it wasn't the only one, but First Christian in Slidell, LA chose to thrive instead of die or panic as some did. They built a small building as a fellowship hall or community center and opened it up to people to work on cleaning and rebuilding homes after hurricane Katrina. They didn't do it alone, they were in partnership with other churches from many denominations.


This is from their website at First Christian Church in Slidell, Louisiana.
Mission Station Stats As of January 7, 2012, 1,072 volunteers from 27 states (KY, NC, MO, WA, IN, CT, VA, PA, IA, NY, IL, FL, OK, MS, MI, OH, GA, TX, AL, CO, CA, NE, AZ, KS, NV, VT, NJ) and 81 churches, and 7 denominations have stayed in our Mission Station. We have fed a total of about 2,390 people over the course of our Tuesday night meals, including our own members who bring food and stay to share the meal and visit with the volunteers. It is estimated that the 1,072 volunteers have put in about 33,232 hours of labor at a cost savings of $648,024 for the people who have been helped.²


I don't believe God sent a hurricane to revive churches in Louisiana or anywhere else, but I do believe that even when hurricanes hit, bombs drop, rivers flood, buildings are collapsed, leaders are assassinated—God calls us to respond by sensing where God wants us and how God wants us to respond. The answers or even the responses aren't easy—but the act of responding with compassion and justice is not an option. The idea of realizing our hand in tragedy is also not an option as Isaiah said, “I am a man of unclean lips.” We have to know that the poorest of the poor suffer most in most natural and human caused disasters because of where they live. We have to realize our responsibility when the most vulnerable only see violence as their only recourse to injustice.


Can we do what God is calling us to do? Can we decide where to we act—where to find God's work? Where is God speaking in the mildew of flooded homes? What does God say in the flattened remains of buildings? Where is God leading us as we step onto the surface of another orbiting body, such as the moon? What does each glorious achievement or tragic act of sin or of nature call us to do?


Let us look deep within at how God speaks to us—all together and one by one. Let us find our purpose through our pursuit of God, in our experience of God through all of our senses. Let us find ourselves walking with God toward the people we are called to serve, for the glory of God. Amen.

1Dr. Martin Luther King, “Shattered Dreams” a sermon preached at Dexter in 1959. Copied from an unfinished draft of this sermon, p. 8. http://mlk-kpp01.stanford.edu/primarydocuments/Vol6/July1962-March1963DraftofChapterX,ShatteredDreams.pdf

2http://www.firstchristianchurchdoc.com/mission-station.html