Sermon

Immersed In Waiting

December 08, 2019
Matthew 3:1-12; Romans 15:4-13
Speaker:

Hear then, this poem:

The Merger Poem (from The Dinner Party) – Judy Chicago

And then all that has divided us will merge
And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh
and unkind
And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both women and men will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another’s will
And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs
of many
And then all will share equally in the Earth’s
abundance
And then all will care for the sick and the weak
and the old
And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life’s creatures
And then all will live in harmony with each other
and the Earth
And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

This poem may sound familiar to your ears if you were at the service in the park this past summer. We read it there as part of the service in which we helped to care for creation and also reflected on how we can be surprised by the ways in which we might encounter God’s presence in our lives.

This poem also sounds familiar to my ears when I hear it in close proximity to the Isaiah 11 text that we heard during the lighting of the advent candles today.

Then a shoot will sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from Jesse’s roots, a branch will blossom.

And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on you, a Spirit of wisdom and understanding, a Spirit of counsel and strength, a Spirit of knowledge and reverence for YHWH.

Then the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them.

The crow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hold of the cobra, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den.

There will be no harm, no destruction anywhere in my holy mountain; for as water fills the sea, so the land will be filled with the knowledge of YHWH.

The word that is familiar to both of these writings is: then.

Then all shall be merged, then there will be peace, then justice will thrive, then disparate things will be in relationship, and then all will live and live and live…then.

Then: a time, place, or space apart from what is current.

Then could be imminent, it could be eons in the future, it could be something from the past – then is, indeed, all of those things.

The poem and the Isaiah text speak of what we’ll call, for lack of a better understanding of the space/time continuum, a future time. A time of justice, peace, and love, which is to say, wholeness – or – right relationship thriving in the moment, in all moments, instead of competing for a place amidst the spaces of injustice, turbulence, and fear, that are active experiences in this time.

Is this what we are waiting for? A time of peace, justice, right relationship? A reformation of the wild, oppressive, and hurtful times we currently find ourselves in?

Of course, chaos and disconnection are not unique to our time, they have been experienced in all times when people have not lived in full connection with God. We see this in the story and mission of John the Baptizer – who preached a message of repentance:

Change your hearts and minds…give evidence to me that you mean to reform…the reign of heaven is about to break in upon you…don’t miss it.

To those who wanted to partake and were willing to participate in the goodness of God’s reign John offered baptism in water. A sign that one was choosing to be immersed in revolution, a turning towards God, and willingness to be transformed and to help transform the world through that turning.

For the world as it is, is not the world as it could be.

And it can be hard to see the world as it could be while viewing it through the lens of the world as it is.

The world as it is can feel like an overwhelming expanse of wilderness, where sightings of life, peace, hope, and justice are hidden amidst the thorns, brambles and weeds of disconnection, overconsumption, greed, and oppression.

The writer of Matthew names John as the embodiment of Isaiah’s prophesied voice crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of our God. And yet, as professor of the New Testament, Ben Witherington reflects on in a written commentary [https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=777] about this Matthew text, the text itself can be punctuated in two ways:

The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “prepare the way of our God”

The voice of one crying: “In the wilderness – prepare the way of our God.”

While the writer of Matthew leans towards the first set up [The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “prepare the way of our God”] to validate the power of John’s voice in the literal Judean wilderness calling folks to repentance and preparation for the coming reign of God. The earlier Isaiah 40 text itself leans towards the second reading: The voice of one crying: “In the wilderness – prepare the way of our God.” In so doing, Isaiah affirms that the presence of God is available in the midst of spaces of wilderness. This ‘then’ time of God’s peace and justice that we are waiting and hoping for, can be accessed now if we seek and make space for it in the presence of the disconnection and wilderness that is.

How do we prepare a way for Love in the wild spaces of our lives and this world?

I recently read an article [Breathe Magazine, Issue 24] about mindfulness and the practice of macro photography. Writer Tracy Calder says this:

“In 2014 Linda Henkel, a professor of psychology at Fairfield University in Connecticut, published a paper looking at how photography impacts memory. Participants in the study took a guided tour of an art museum, where they were asked to observe certain objects while photographing others. By the end of the exercise some interesting trends had emerged. The students instructed to photograph objects in their entirety remembered less about them and their location in the museum than those who simply observed the same pieces. Henkel concluded the participants were relying on cameras to remember things for them, treating them like external memory drives. These students showed a low level of engagement with the objects, which seemed to weaken their ability to create memories.

In a second experiment, Henkel instructed the students to photograph details of selected objects, and the results were remarkable. This time the participants demonstrated greater focus and concentration, as well as a higher level of engagement. As a result, they were able to recall more information about each object – including its location in the building – the following day.”

Macro photography, for those not familiar with it, is extreme close-up photography of an object or a portion of an object. It captures micro details and puts them on display in large scale. Macro as a word refers to the overall – the big picture – the large scale. Yet, macro photography focuses on the micro, the details.

The experiment shows that in focusing on the details, by immersing oneself in a small portion of the big picture, one’s experience and interaction with the big picture is significantly enhanced. [You are invited to give this experiment a literal try by coming up and taking a closer look at the Advent banners each week and see some of the details and texture the ink makes that isn’t as visible from a distance – as you bring your offering forward you may just want to just keep on coming and check it out]

Perhaps through this observation experiment we can begin to glimpse how we might participate in preparing paths for Love in the wilds of the world. It can feel daunting and overwhelming to hope for and work towards the peace, justice, and life-giving kindom of God in the big-picture reality of life. It may feel easier to linger in a belief that ‘then’ will surely come someday, whenever God makes it happen, and that when it does we will certainly join in the jubilation of that time.

John calls out the people of his time for relying on their ancestry in the line of Abraham and Sarah as entitlement to the goodness of God’s kindom instead of participating in the real work of bringing that kindom to life in the moment. This is like the photography experiment participants who relied on their cameras to experience and remember the paintings for them. They caught glimpses of the beauty at hand, but they didn’t invest in fully experiencing it for themselves.

We are not equipped to bring about the total reign of God in the world; that isn’t our job. Our job is to participate in the coming of that kindom by preparing paths for Love in the details of this moment. Our job is to breathe life, peace, justice, and love into the small pieces of the world that we encounter. In so doing, we are making space and preparing paths for God.

Where are we preparing paths for Love in the wild spaces of our living?

We have the opportunity to prepare a path for Love in so many ways: in our interactions with each other as families, friends, neighbors, or strangers. In our interactions with creation. In our interactions with our own selves. We don’t have to wait for a future ‘then’ of justice, peace, wholeness, and love. We can offer patience, kindness, gentleness, encouragement, support, joy, laughter, solidarity, attentiveness, generosity, in any moment. This is love incarnate. These actions encourage: connection, courage, healing, and hope. We can immerse ourselves in living this out now, in the details. In so doing, it is not that we ignore the big picture brokeness of this world, instead by breathing connection, generosity, solidarity, and healing into each moment that we are able, we begin to glimpse a greater sense of the revolution of justice, peace, and love of God that is present and moving in the big picture world in the midst of pervasive injustice, disconnection, and fear.

Then is yet to come, then already has been, and then, in the moments when we join in and make space for wholeness and Love in the details, then is now.

And then all that has divided us will merge
And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh
and unkind
And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both women and men will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another’s will
And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs
of many
And then all will share equally in the Earth’s
abundance
And then all will care for the sick and the weak
and the old
And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life’s creatures
And then all will live in harmony with each other
and the Earth
And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

What are we waiting for?