The Saints In My Head

 

The Saints in My Head

Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18

The holy ones of the Most High 

7:1 In the first year of King Belshazzar of Babylon, Daniel had a dream and visions of his head as he lay in bed. Then he wrote down the dream:

7:2 I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea,

7:3 and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another.

7:15 As for me, Daniel, my spirit was troubled within me, and the visions of my head terrified me.

7:16 I approached one of the attendants to ask him the truth concerning all this. So he said that he would disclose to me the interpretation of the matter:

7:17 "As for these four great beasts, four kings shall arise out of the earth.

7:18 But the holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess the kingdom forever--forever and ever."

Have you ever thought much about the stuff that “lives” in your head? What goes on when you dream, or when you daydream? What you are thinking about during your idle times, or when you stare out the window, or just watch the world go by while riding in a car? The realm of the mind is a quite interesting thing, isn’t it? 

Two things I used to tell folk from time to time in my sermons: 

Where does your “inner dialogue” come from? To whom are you “conversing” with that mysterious “partner” in your head? I liked to suggest that possibly the other partner in the conversation is the Spirit of God. Isn’t it interesting to think that God is THAT close to us that when we are having those conversations with our inner voice, we may be actually talking with the living presence of God in us, at least partly? 

 

And related to this, I used to give my listeners “permission” to wander away from the sermon to ponder or daydream, if something from the preaching scripture—or even something from the sermon—provoked the sidebar. After all, if we believe the Holy Spirit really is guiding what is being preached, why not believe that this same Spirit may use a given thought to touch a specific individual, whose own processing—or ruminating—on it might just be what that person needs at that moment in their lives. With this in mind, I would tell folk that if this happens, please go on your merry way, live fully into the “daydream,” extracting as much from it as they could. And when they finish, just rejoin us in the service, as I will most likely still be talking…

 

Personally, I enjoy these “mind vacations,” so much so that I plan for them, from time to time. I like to put on some good music, stare into space, and see what thoughts visit my consciousness at that moment. I suppose this is what some would call “meditation”; possibly others throughout time saw it as a kind of spiritual visitation of ancestors long gone, or even the “spirits” of the wind or water around them, as did the Native Americans who first “owned” America before we stole it from them. There are those who use some form of chemical stimulants such as cannabis or psilocybin to enhance such meditations, but I find them much richer when my conscious, rational mind stays in the conversations, which often can be wild enough, in my experience. Wild, peaceful, or wisdom-bearing, I should say, to be more accurate. Rarely do I find them anxiety-provoking, but I have not found it unusual to be “moved” to take some action, based on what I learn, and often with a sense of urgency. These moments that link my waking thoughts with inner chats in that part of my brain just below consciousness have become precious to me, and I both encourage them and cherish them. I am convinced that so many folk today are coming apart because they eschew these experiences, either because of schedules and responsibilities that encroach on any available time for them to occur, or paradoxically, they cheapen or ruin them by artificially trying to rush or enhance them through chemicals, booze, or some form of forced spirituality or meditative method not born of their own soul. 

 

Since this weekend is what we have adopted as “All Saints Sunday,” following after All Saints Day, I have spent some time thinking about the saints of God—especially my saints—who live in these “twilight zone” inner thoughts and dialogue in my head. Our last surviving parent—my Mom—died just before Thanksgiving last year. This Sunday, her name will be read at a service of remembrance at her church, along with the names of the other saints of that church who passed since last year. All four of our parents still live in my head, as each made important contributions to how and who I am, both as a person and as a person of faith. Unlike many of us, I had a deep, spiritual relationship with a couple—Ed and Marian Apel—who would become my in-laws. Ed and Marian used to invite young people into their home as a place of Bible study, spiritual sharing, and prayer, after encountering such needs among young folk while engaging in Lay Witness Missions. Their faith inspired me and many of my friends. (Believe me, eventually marrying their daughter and becoming part of the family was never in my mind, as SHE was “way out of my league,” as they say! But God is SO good…) My own mother and father never pass from my thoughts, either, as they didn’t just “make” me, but they continued to form me by openly and passionately facilitating my many and various interests. They also went out of their way to trust me, and these two “ingredients”—opportunities to explore my interests, and trust—provided me with a type of freedom most kids only dream about. The ways they generously did this still lives on in my daydreams, which end up as prayers of thanksgiving for Bob and Jean Sterling, saints in my head.

 

There are many more saints in there, too: pastors galore, as I was blessed to have some of the best in my live, both in my home church while growing up, and in my later vocation as a church worker and eventually as an ordained minister. I’ve written and spoken before about the likes of Virgil Maybray, Hugh Crocker, and Lloyd Sturtz, but there is another with whom I worked that I don’t believe I have ever written about. He walked into one of my “head” ruminations this week, as I was reflecting on this message, so I thought I’d mention him. He was an American Baptist pastor, John Harrington, who served the First Baptist Church of Franklin, PA. He hired me to work as a kind of parish associate back in the early 1970s, in a time when I was exploring my young adult faith, and was engaged with what we used to call the “Jesus Movement,” at that time. At the church, I worked with the youth group, and helped the church with general administration and communications. But Pastor John had a great passion for growing peoples’ faith in Christ, and in helping his church reach out into the community, in a day when most churches seemed to be on “autopilot.” It was a time when denominational churches rather thrived on tradition and were still riding the post-war baby boom to prosperity. Somehow, Rev. Harrington seemed to see much earlier the proverbial “handwriting on the wall” that this “wave” would dissipate, and that the church would soon be “competing” for time on peoples’ increasingly busy, and self-centered schedules. He instilled in me a sense of urgency in terms of “keeping the main thing the main thing,” as they say, and focusing on building and encouraging faith. I believe it was some of my many “heady” conversations with John—a proud graduate of Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary, by the way—that resulted in my later ministerial goal of “developing the Christian faith of the people I serve,” which was part of my personal mission statement. Faith development was something most folk needed and understood, and it was something that required more than an hour on Sunday mornings. John Harrington is one of the saints in my head.

 

This weekend’s passage from Daniel got me started on this theme, as it opens with Daniel’s “dreams and visions of his head.” Obviously, Daniel was a young man who spent a lot of time in his own head, and we certainly should learn from that. I have said throughout my life that I was a person who has NEVER been bored, and it is true. Why? Because I learned very early on of the gathering that is always happening inside my own head, just like Daniel. For me, it also began at night time, when I would lay in bed, thinking. I have always had a rich imagination and a very fertile set of “memory banks” that hardly forgot any of the things I have experienced. Maybe this is why I resonate with Daniel, here. To be able to join the inner dialogue in la Cabesa at any point, and to pull from the fast storehouses of memories shelved in the gray matter can both entertain and give way to fresh visions of “what’s next.” For Daniel, his dreams and visions led him to believe that better days were coming for the people of God, and that the “holy ones of the Most High” would receive and rule the kingdom. I believe that, too. Original thoughts, or at least ones kick-started by the Holy Spirit joining the party in my head, not only stave off boredom, but offer hope that better thoughts lead to better life, which may ultimately lead to a better world. Whoever it was who said, “Maybe we should sleep on it,” touched on an important truth. Daniel knew it, and he wasn’t the only prophet of God who did. Don’t you wonder if the ability to WONDER and to PONDER wasn’t what God was looking for in prophets?

 

When Jesus went off by himself, as he often did, the gospel writers said it was to pray. I’m guessing that he was also attending the party in HIS head that I’m sure had an open-door policy. If a guy can spend an evening on a mountain with Moses and Elijah, I’m convinced he could conjure up just about any of the patriarchs and matriarchs to join him in a quiet thought/conversation, in solitude. Solitude is an important element in learning to “listen to your life,” as Frederick Buechner put it. And while our heads may be crowded with thoughts, memories, conversation partners, and those saints who inspired us, you can’t visit it in a crowd of witnesses. It’s something you must do alone. And neither will it work when you fill the ear-gate and the eye-gate with sounds and images. I worry today that just about everyone I see who IS alone, whether it’s at the gym, out running, or even just sitting at the beach, has those earbuds in their ears. I’d like to think that at least some of them are using just the noise-cancelling function of them to blot out the madding crowd so they can think, but I’m doubting it. We seem to have evolved a culture where every waking moment must be filled with something, and if it isn’t, instant boredom. Our inner world is slowly being crushed by stimuli like a walnut in a vise. Don’t let it happen to you!

 

So, on this All Saints Sunday (or weekend), discover anew your inner world! Take some intentional “alone” time to listen to your life. Don’t be alarmed if the first things it tells you sounds like a scolding. After all, when left alone, your inner dialogue partners get bored, too. Keep going, though, as those unpleasant—or at least less than edifying—comments will fade away, giving way to drawers of memories and reminders of unfinished thoughts that you forgot you had left behind. When your inner dialogue partner shows up, be reminded, too, that you may well be talking with God, using the “interface” we know as the Holy Spirit. And like Daniel, be encouraged that the world IS filled with “holy ones of the Most High” who, like the ancient spirits of our Native American siblings, can guide us and inspire us. Pay attention to the saints in your head this weekend, Dear Ones. Enjoy the resulting dreams and visions, and the good conversation with the others who will join you there, thanks to the cumulative and creative power of memory. Once you find the joy and power of this solitude, say a prayer of thanksgiving to the Most High for the Holy Ones who have formed YOUR faith. They are the only cloud of witnesses that truly count. Amen.

Crowns

 

Crowns

 

2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18

The good fight of faith 

 

4:6 As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come.

 

4:7 I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.

 

4:8 From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

 

4:16 At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them!

 

4:17 But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion's mouth.

 

4:18 The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

 

I’m working on this message while on our cruise, and we just finished a lecture about Salvador Dali’s illustrative watercolors he produced as companion pieces for each of the 100 verses of Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” Of course, this epic poem is about his idea of the afterlife as a circuitous journey, starting with hell, at its lowest level, and proceeding upward toward “the heavens,” at its apex. As I remember the poem, we should all be thankful if we don’t end up stuck in the hellish lower levels, let alone griping that we didn’t get some sort of “award” or crown for how we lived our days while still sucking air. I find it humorous to be approaching this particular message after our review of Dante’s masterwork. However, in light of also reflected on the surrealist work of Dali, one of my favorite artists, I suppose the irony is, in itself, a bit surreal.

 

Let me continue to digress a bit, hoping to weave this all back together before this thing gets to the “amen.”

 

Dante’s “Divine Comedy” is surrealist literature, even as Dali’s art is surreal. Both are bold about their views of the Divine mysteries, Dante clearly demonstrating this in his poem, and Dali as a self-proclaimed atheist. As I listened to the lecturer today, it occurred to me that both men’s creative output suggests that they truly had a serious faith in things beyond this, our conscious life, and possibly a profound belief that their was something more, and something greater ahead. Dante’s rumination about it were triggered by the sudden death of his young love, Beatrice. The “Divine Comedy” betrays Dante’s wrestling with the classical “Christian” views of life, death, hell, and heaven. He weaves them all into this profound poem. Dali, on the other hand, calls himself an atheist, yet paints amazing representations of what he experiences in the subconscious realm of his dreams. I wonder if his “atheism” is triggered by the truly surreal landscapes he sees in his dreams, indicating that there is SO much more to reality than what we see while awake, coupled with his interest and knowledge of an emerging field of science in his lifetime—quantum physics. Could he possibly have embraced his atheism because when he looked back at what the church was teaching about the Divine, it could not possibly describe these ever-widening ideas? I must admit that I rarely encounter theologies broad enough to encompass the miraculous world enfolding in the realm of science, knowledge, and the arts. Theology is too often dogmatic and limiting, instead of seeking a broader, more inclusive view. These two greats of literature and art seemed to “get” that there was so much more to life, the universe, and everything—including the Divine—than doctrinal religion could handle, or even wanted to approach. I can get that. I know that we often “blame” the fallout of people—especially the young—from the church on declining interest in morals, or busy agendas, but what if folk are just overwhelmed by the explosion of knowledge at a time when the church is flirting with retrenchment? Maybe there’s more Dante and Dali in us than we might realize.

 

Now, we come to today’s text from the pen of Paul the Apostle. Paul is reflecting on his calling, his ministry as a messenger of the Gospel, and possibly evaluating his perceived effectiveness. We know Paul was an educated man, having studied under one of the great minds of his day, Gamaliel. (When Paul does that thing about “counting it all as garbage” beyond his faith in Christ, we must realize that he is making a value comparison between his love of knowledge and his salvific faith, the latter of which has been transformative. He is not literally throwing his education out with the trash!) Paul is writing to an audience that did not have his background in classical philosophy, history, and civics, so he approaches the afterlife for them using two simple themes: righteous living, and a “heavenly” reward for it. The “man in the street” could understand this: live rightly and in a way that embraces love of God and neighbor; and God will “reward” us when we arrive in the blessed afterlife made possible by the grace of God through the Christ Event. In Paul’s day, a “crown” was both a symbol of social standing and wealth, both things early Christians, most of whom came from neither, might long for. Paul was offering them a simple hope in the midst of the challenges they faced. We modern preachers try to do the same thing, but it is incumbent on us to realize that our folk are more Dante and Dali in regarding the scope of their knowledge, experience, and the questions they bring. (One of my parishioners once told me, “I come to church each week as an atheist, and hope you will prove I am wrong.”) We and the church err when we “dumb down” the faith. Grace may be easy (not cheap), but our questions and the life that generates them are not.

 

In the text, Paul is making a case for living an ethical, “righteous” life, as what will be both honoring to God and an effective witness for the Gospel of Christ. He talks of being “poured out” himself in trying to do so. A true faith life is no easy business. Neither is wearing a crown, by the way, as this, too, carries many obligations. This leads me to one of those personal “sidebar” stories…

 

When I was appointed as lead pastor of St. Paul’s UMC, a few of my ministerial colleagues—who were understandably jealous—questioned what I did to get such a large, “cushy” church job. They saw it as a kind of “crown,” I guess? Having served as an associate pastor there back in the early 1990s, I knew better. While I knew it to be a wonderful and vital church, I also knew the incredible responsibility and heavy workload it presented. There would be nothing “cushy” about it, and that was what I thought was so long before I had to help the church get through the traumatic passing of a truly monumental servant of Christ (and our Administrative Director), Faith Geer, AND the COVID epidemic! My challenge to these colleagues was to come follow me around for a day to see what serving a large, extremely active church was like. Only a couple ever took me up on this, but both said it was a real eye-opener. I can understand what Paul means, at least to some extent, by being “poured out.”

 

Dante may have had the best answer to the best reward of the afterlife—arriving at its highest level. Where he erred, though, was in the idea that righteous living is what gets you there, which might have been the “works righteousness” of the church in his era. What gets us there is nothing but the grace of God. However, Paul is right in saying that both righteous living and “finishing the race” are godly virtues, but they are responses of gratitude for the grace and love of God which we freely receive. AND they are witnesses to the rest of the world of what an effective, compassionate Christian life looks like. Remember, Jesus said that world will know God’s love when they see it working in us!

 

What might be the equivalent of a “crown of righteousness” to us in our day? I would say the satisfied heart. When I live at my most “Christ-like,” I can feel God’s pleasure, as well as my own encouraging contentment. This is no small thing at a time in human history when so many find themselves discontented, angry, or depressed. Remembering my distance-running days, I know that even a good split time doesn’t mean much unless I finished the race. So it is with the Christian life journey. You can have the crown; I’ll relish the day-by-day satisfaction of loving God, my most precious loved ones, and my neighbor. It is such a good feeling to do for others out of the deep, deep well of God’s grace that saves and empowers me. And you?

 

And in terms of serving a large, ridiculously busy church? Dali was right—the clock always seemed to be melting…Amen.

Donald Trump Wrestles the Almighty

 

Donald Trump Wrestles the Almighty

 

Genesis 32:22-31

Jacob receives God's blessing 

 

32:22 The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.

 

32:23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had.

 

32:24 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak.

 

32:25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.

 

32:26 Then he said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me."

 

32:27 So he said to him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob."

 

32:28 Then the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed."

 

32:29 Then Jacob asked him, "Please tell me your name." But he said, "Why is it that you ask my name?" And there he blessed him.

 

32:30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, "For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved."

 

32:31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

 

 

I had a good laugh as I read this week’s lectionary passage. Why? Because I first think of Jacob as one of the great connivers in the Bible. Jacob cons his brother out of his birthright, GETS conned by his father-in-law to be into marrying Laban’s older daughter, Leah, before prevailing and winning the hand of his beloved Rachel. Jacob seems to find a way to get what he wants, even when others become either the foil of his schemes, or even the victims of them. A sarcastic chuckle blurted out when I thought of the great provocateur of our current time—President Donald Trump—and how he, too, is a well-known conniver who will do most anything to get his way. Then, I had this wild moment of fantasy, imagining Donald Trump having a wrestling match with God (or God’s angel?), which is amplified in its humor by the fact that Trump really IS a big fan of the WWE and its “fantastic,” staged matches between the most bizarre of play-acting characters.

 

Donald Trump as a kind of modern-day Jacob is certainly a stretch, and while our Jewish siblings venerate Jacob as the “father of the tribes of Israel,” they must also admit that he is a schemer. And those of us who aren’t particularly in Donald Trump’s corner must also admit that he has successfully connived his way into the most powerful office in the land—twice—and convinced a majority of American voters—twice—to put him there. And like Jacob, he seems to have a limitless supply of energy, devious longsuffering, and chutzpah to get his way with much, some of which may not be to the betterment of his constituency. But you have to admire his pluck, even if the end results invoke a similarly rhyming word in your mind.

 

So, we have two schemers with massive egos and grandiose plans, facing a challenge that may be beyond their ability to manipulate—Jacob and Donald Trump. The Bible text says that Jacob faced his “opponent” near the shores of the Jabbok, when he found himself locked into an all-night wrestling match with “a man.” And while I’m not a Hebrew scholar, those who are tell us that this “man” was most likely a theophany—some translations say “an angel,” but if a true theophany, “the man” was actually God, making a human appearance. Putting this all together, it is humorous in its own right that Jacob could “out-wrestle” the Almighty, but this is exactly what the text says was happening! So, God pulls a Trump move on Jacob—he cheats. A divine touch to Jacob’s hip socket, and his hip is dislocated, which might have normally ended the match—kind of like we thought happened, in Donald Trump’s case, when Joe Biden defeated him in 2020. Jacob holds on to God, even with a dislocated hip that must have been excruciating, until God “blesses” him. I know it’s a weird metaphor, but this is how I see the resurgence of Donald Trump playing out. He refused to give up his desire for power and his own way, and he has prevailed once again. Although ironically, in winning his second term, it doesn’t appear that he had to cheat to do it, unless you brand his wildly fabricated stories and “analysis” of the problems facing this country a form of cheating by preying on the emotions of his listeners. Again, I’m not offering an apologetic for Donald Trump as much as I’m trying to understand how people like Jacob and Trump are able to prevail, even when they are wrestling with the likes of the Almighty?

 

Is God testing the rest of us by waving the proverbial red cape out of the way, getting the bull to charge, and stepping aside so WE are the ones now facing a raging bull? God renamed Jacob as “Israel,” a name which meant “you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed.” And Jacob’s sons would be the progenitors of the future people who would wear the “Israel” moniker, themselves. And is it not true that God’s people Israel have faced massive challenges—both human and divine—down through the centuries—pogroms, persecutions, holocausts—and yet have survived to this day, at least in some form? And does not the world have a love/hate relationship with the modern state of Israel, in that we stand with them and yet deride them for “overreaching,” in this case, seeking to obliterate the Palestinians in the name of “protecting their interests”? We’re back to Donald Trump again. In him, Israel has found both a friend and foe, depending on which way the wind is blowing. I admit that I am fairly impressed with the peace plan that Trump’s team has put on the table to end the fighting between Israel and the Palestinians, as I mentioned in last week’s message. Its openness to a two-state solution for the Palestinians while calling for an end to terrorist attacks against Israel, as well as utilizing a United Nations-led arbitrating committee to manage the situation seems like it could work. The wide support the plan has engendered among the Arab nations may be a ray of hope. (As I am editing this message the week of 10/15, the initial plan has been signed, some hostages released, but still threats to its enaction remain.)

 

This is the “wrestling match with God” that today’s Israel must face. Might God use another conniver—President Trump—to spur an amicable solution? Or might God use him to “dislocate” Israel’s hip joint to accept and agree to a peace that is not exactly what they wanted? In reading what is truly an absurd passage from the Book of Genesis this week, I guess I should not be so swift to laugh at how God might have something up God’s sleeve that uses an absurd “catalyst” from our own time, the aforementioned Donald Trump. We can only hope that something good comes of this for all the parties involved. I wish I could be more optimistic, but our President seems to have a penchant for mucking things up just as it something is about to break, for he, too, suffers from the same kind of “paralysis by ego” that Jacob did. Both of them would certainly benefit from a wrestling match with the Almighty to have their egos knocked back a few notches, even by a God who cheats, when necessary.

 

Anyone who tries to sanitize some of these preposterous Bible stories is missing the message behind the mayhem. In this case, God is so concerned with the human creation that God is willing to “get down and get dirty” with us to prevail, whether it’s wrestling or blessing. As we mentioned last week, this is precisely what God is doing in the Christ Event, and we must admit God “cheats” there, too. God cheats DEATH, actually. Jesus was murdered by the powers that he threatened with is message of forgiveness, love, and reconciliation of all humanity. As we know, when you are murdered, you are dead. Jesus was dead, but then God cheated. And death’s hip was dislocated, permanently. Thanks to the resurrection of Jesus Christ, death will not prevail.

 

As I have mentioned in other messages, too, it is important t note that Mideastern traditions are much different from ours in the West. The Bible is full of stories of unscrupulous actors being used by God (David) or even being praised by Jesus (the parable of the unjust steward, for example). We have a hard time rationalizing these with our Western ethics, but of course, those in the Mideast don’t get our “business ethics” of usury in lending and “hostile takeovers,” let alone stockholders abiding such nasty, predatory behaviors just to milk a few extra dollars out of their shares.

 

For those of us who struggle mightily with our current situation under President Trump and his “wrestling match” between wanting to earn a Nobel Peace Prize AND carrying out destructive revenge and retribution against those he perceives as his enemies, may look to this passage as a sign of hope. Israel might never have come to be, had it not been for God’s willingness to wrestle with Jacob, resulting in the change of direction necessary for its birth. Perhaps we should pray for our President to have one of those late-night divine wrestling matches in place of a tweet bomb? He already knows the “theater of war,” given his love affair with the WWE, so just maybe the Almighty can entice him into the ring? God knows our nation needs a change of direction, if IT is to survive. And we believe in a God who just won’t give up on us! Amen.

 

 

 

The Vegi-Pod Fiasco

 

The Vegi-Pod Fiasco

 

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7

Israel plants gardens in Babylon 

 

29:1 These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon.

 

29:4 Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:

 

29:5 Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce.

 

29:6 Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.

 

29:7 But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

 

 

Since this week’s message features a prophetic passage about hope, let me start with a story of hopelessness!

 

A few years ago, Dara and I ventured out to the annual Home Show in Pittsburgh, held at the massive Raphael Vinoly masterpiece, the Convention Center. Since our townhouse is a fairly new structure, we went only to “get some ideas” about minor improvements, not expecting to spend much, other than gazing time. Of course, you know how that works out. At the end of one long aisle, we came across a display of “Vegi-Pods,” which is an Australian invention. The Vegi-Pod is a free-standing, elevated gardening device, with a ventilated cover to keep destructive insects away from your “crop.” The unit has a large plastic base that holds an amount of water, that automatically feeds the plants, when their roots grow through the dirt in the upper level, and into the water layer. Since we really can’t have a garden in our small backyard, and other “container gardens” had been eaten alive by insects, we decided to spring for the smallest of the Vegi-Pods on display, along with a stand and the optional top cover, designed to let air and light in, but keep bugs out. At just a bit over $400, they would ship it to us, so we didn’t have to lug stuff around as we continued perusing the show. As it turns out, that was a big mistake, on a couple of counts. Not being incumbered with Vegi-Pod boxes meant we would be enticed by a super-deluxe, split-top, queen-sized mattress with a fancy, remote-controlled, duel-adjusting frame. Suffering from guilt over spending $400 on the Vegi-Pod thing, we assuaged it by buying a $9,000 mattress and adjustable bed. (At only $250 a month—with no interest—we’d have it paid off in only three years.) We really like the bed, by the way, and it’s been very good for my back and acid reflux. The Vegi-Pod is another story…

 

For the past three years, we’ve put new, special “raised-bed” soil in the Vegi-Pod, filled its lower chambers with water, and have tried planting various “crops” in it, from tomato plants, to peppers, to even the most simple leaf lettuce. The “high-tech” cover keeps the destructive insects out, but apparently, it is just as efficient denying the plants what they need to grow. One season, we decided to hinge the top back to expose our plant sets to the proper natural elements, and the insects feasted on them, as usual. Our $400 Vegi-Pod investment has been a disaster. Since neither Dara or I have a “green thumb” with growing stuff, we have consigned ourselves to buying produce at the market and will offer the Vegi-Pod up at a future moving sale, hoping someone who has an Australian heritage can make sense of it. At least we’re getting a good night’s sleep.

 

In this week’s lectionary passage, Israel starts out behind the proverbial “eight ball,” as they find themselves in exile in Babylon, again living as “strangers in a strange land,” mostly because of their selfishly fashioned unfaithfulness to Yahweh. They long for Zion, wanting desperately to go “home.” They cry out to God about it, sing about it, and are just otherwise miserable in Babylon under King Nebuchadnezzar. Their cries to God seem to be hitting the ceiling, as the prophets had told them it was God who sent them there because of their unfaithfulness, in the first place. Now, I must remind the reader that Israel practiced a strict monotheistic faith, when they decided to be faithful to Yahweh, their God. The great Shema they recited regularly, and which we see peppered throughout the Old Testament, was: “Here O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one.” Other than those times when they tried out the multiple “godlets” of the tribes around them, this is what they believed. As monotheists, they necessarily believed that everything—EVERYTHING—had to have its causality in this one God. Even “evil” had to come from God, including Israel’s frequent misfortune of being conquered and taken into captivity by stronger nations. And as monotheists, on their best days, they believed that only Yahweh could be their deliverance. Hence, they cried out to God in their misery, hoping for better days ahead, when God decided to listen.

 

In this case, God gives Jeremiah a hopeful message to share with God’s people, Israel. The prophet tells them to “home out” in Babylon—plant gardens, build houses, and enjoy whatever bounty they can muster in captivity. In short, live like you ARE in Zion. It sounds like an overly simplistic message, but think about what God, through Jeremiah, is trying to do here. Here is a short summary of the message:

 

         “Stop crying and start living. A place is not as important as your attitude about life. Longing for Zion has become an excuse for making yourselves miserable. Even in Babylon, you must eat, raise your children, love your families, build a harmonious community with one another, and most of all, return to your faithful life with Yahweh. After all, the forever promise is that God will always be with you. God is a “portable” God—wherever you are, God will be WITH you, not hanging around in Jerusalem, waiting for you to rejoin God there.”

 

When Israel adopts a better attitude and starts building a better life in situ, they will rediscover that God IS with them. By developing an enthusiasm for their lives, their faith, their families, and even it “seeking the welfare of the city where God has sent them,” they will be so much better off. And just possibly, a metamorphosis on their part might lead to freedom and a return to their homeland. Of course, we know it eventually does.

 

The psychology here should not be lost on us, either. As a pastor, I can testify that much of my time in the counseling room was with parishioners who found themselves in deep lament over where they “were” at a given stage of life. As they would describe their angst, I could hear that they were in some state of “exile,” either foisted upon them, or self-imposed. Exempting persons who suffered from some form of clinical depression—which almost always requires professional, even medical intervention—I would often share Jeremiah’s counsel to Israel from this passage, with the reminder that God was with them, as well. As Christians, who are not monotheists in the sense that we must locate all “evil” and misfortune in God’s lap, we do believe that “God so loved the world that God sent the only Son” for our redemption and benefit. God is NOT against us; God is eternally FOR us. And God desires, as indicated in the Christ Event, to deliver us from whatever “captivity” in which we may find ourselves. Still, we may have to “plant some gardens” and work at changing our attitude before we reawaken enough faith to again see the light from God illuminating a path forward.

 

There is also something to this “seek the welfare of the city where you find yourselves” encouragement, too. If the place we find ourselves seems hostile toward us, perhaps if we invest a little energy in improving ITS outlook, we might possibly find our own outlook improving as well. “Planting a garden” is another way of saying “bloom where you are planted.” There is an old fable about an aging man who responds to his own waning mortality and the recent death of his wife by planting a tree, the fruit of which he will never see. While his neighbors chide him for it, declaring the act as “folly,” the man names the tree, “Hope.” In his own final days, he watches it take root and begin to grow, knowing that others will benefit from his response to grief. (Note that many funeral homes today offer an opportunity to “plant a tree” as a gesture in remembering loved ones who have died. See where it comes from?)

 

Friends, if you ever find yourself in some “captivity” that is so confining it is sapping all of your energy and leading to sleepless nights—kind of like Israel in Babylon—maybe it’s time to “plant a garden,” or “seek the welfare of the city” by engineering a change in attitude. Begin by renewing your faith in our God who has planted his OWN garden among us by sending his Son, Jesus Christ, as our friend, guide, and Savior. Oh, and if you want to give a Vegi-Pod a try for that garden, I know where you can get one real cheap. Amen.