Showing posts with label Isaiah 64:1-9. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isaiah 64:1-9. Show all posts

Saturday, 2 December 2017

Keeping Awake

Isaiah 64:1-9
I grew up Presbyterian, but I didn’t discover until I was 19 that God was communicative and could be really felt and experienced and that Church was more than something people did who were inclined to be “good”.  At that time I took an excursion among Christians of the Nazarene persuasion.   It was a fellowship of about 30 people who met in an elementary school cafeteria on Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night.  They loved the Lord and wanted to serve him.  They felt in their hearts the worship they raised.  There was a sweet, sweet Spirit in that place.
That congregation started as a small handful of people a good 15 years before I ever went there.  I was with them roughly three years and in that time they tripled in number.  They raised enough money among themselves to buy a piece of property and build a church building with a paved parking lot debt free.  It seemed so easy, effortless.  The Lord was present with them.  That was the ‘80’s, Bible-belt, USA.
I went from that church back to my Presbyterian roots and became active in a small town Presbyterian church that had a very active family and youth ministry.  We had about 125 on a Sunday.  That church overflowed in hospitality, maturity, friendship, and support.  We grew and had to do some building modification for the afterschool ministry we had.  We did it debt free.  It was so easy.  That was the early ‘90’s.
That was all nearly thirty years ago and I humbly admit that how we did church back then is my default.  Today, I look back on those times and like Isaiah I say “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence—as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil—to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!  When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, You came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.”  That, of course, was Isaiah remembering God giving the Law to the Israelites at Mt. Sinai.
Isaiah was voicing the lament of a faithful remnant whom God had brought home to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon.  They came home only to find the good ole days were not a possibility anymore.  Those living on the Land didn’t want them back and were hostile about it.  The glory-filled life they had hoped for would prove too difficult for them to build.  It’s like Canadian Geese returning after their southern migration only to find that the site of their idyllic northern home has become an adult lifestyle gated community of condos and the residents don’t won’t their teeny yards covered in geese poo like Centre Island, Toronto.  What are the poor geese to do?
This remnant of the faithful felt God had abandoned them, that God had hidden his presence from them.  It seemed God had acted from a distance to get them home but God just wasn’t with them because their hopes, their expectations of the way things could be were not being realized.  They struggled sometimes violently to reclaim their ancestral lands.  The Temple, the place where God would live, lay in ruins for generations.  The former glory of Solomon’s Temple wouldn’t be realized for over 400 years when Herod the Great “restored” it in the years immediately preceding Jesus’ ministry.  Yet, historical accounts tell us that the institution of religion surrounding Herod's temple was so corrupt that most Israelites did not believe the presence of God ever graced the place.
But what about Isaiah’s prayer that God would tear open the heavens and come and be present with great acts among his people?  Did it go unanswered?  No.  Mark recounts in his Gospel account of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordon by John the Baptist that just as Jesus was coming up out of the water John saw the heavens torn open and the Spirit of God came down upon Jesus and a voice came from heaven saying “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  The heavens did get torn open and the Presence of God did return to be with his people to live in the new living Temple of Jesus the Christ.  Then, following Jesus resurrection and ascension, God poured the Spirit upon Jesus’ followers (another faithful remnant) in Jerusalem on the Day of Pentecost, the national feast at which the Jews celebrated the giving of the Law at Sinai.
Well, here we sit like a faithful remnant, waiting for, longing for a new revival, waiting for God to show up and be present and make things like they were thirty years ago when we knew how to do church.   What do we do?  
Well, Jesus promised he would return and he told his disciples to “Keep awake”.  It’s been 2,000 years now.  In that span of time the church has had periods of sleeping and awakening.  Today, we are the by-product of a church, a faithful remnant, that woke up 500 years ago when Martin Luther started the Protestant Reformation in conjunction with the invention of the printing press. 
As a faithful remnant of the Protestant awakening we live in the day when the printed page has been superseded by the webpage.  Information is disseminated and processed radically differently now than it was just 30 years ago.  Church isn’t where people come to find religious information.  They get it off the Internet and talk about it in coffee shops among small groups of friends.  This is a huge factor as to why when our snowbirds return in the spring they find their home churches growing smaller.  We need to adapt but simply learning how to use social media, though helpful and necessary, won’t bring people back to church.  You can build a coffee shop and people will come; but build a church…meh.
Just days before his saving death Jesus told his disciples to keep awake while they wait, so also we who live in the days of the death of the institutional church need to keep awake while we wait for God to tear open the heavens and come be present with us today.  Awake doesn’t mean be gimmicky like a multi-national fast food chain that’s the same wherever you go.  We need to be a local, slow food, home-grown feast devoted to Jesus and committed to being his disciples.  Facebook and blogging on the Internet isn’t the highway home for the church.  The road home is the long, slow road of discipleship – the living embodiment of the Jesus who gave his life for this world to feast.  Jesus’ life symbolized, signified and tasted in the meal of Holy Communion abides in the feast of the Holy Spirit-filled fellowship enjoyed by Jesus’ disciples gathered around him.
We and the Holy Spirit-filled fellowship we share rather than the Internet must be the living source of the Jesus whom people should be talking about in small groups in coffee shops.  It would be great if we as a church took the task to hand of taking a year to equip ourselves for taking our Jesus-embodied fellowship to where people meet today.  I’m talking a congregation-wide discipleship course.  This will require more from us than Sunday attendance, but will transform us.  Here’s the program – Greg Ogden’s Discipleship Essentials.  This is not fast food.  It is a sit-down meal.  But, it’s the kind of focusing on Jesus that will wake us up and keep us awake.  Amen.

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Jesus, Show Your Face

Text: Isaiah 64:1-9; Mark 13:24-37
My grandfather was a quiet man.  My Grandmother, on the other hand,…well, she was one of those who could talk non-stop, relentlessly.  I know that’s redundant, but it helps to make my point.  My grandfather usually found a way to cope with that.  Usually with work, civic groups, and staying busy.  But, when Granddaddy retired he had to come up with something quick . It did not take long for the number of TV sets around their house to increase.  He could turn on and tune out while Grandma yattered on.  He even put one in the kitchen.  Grandma could watch her shows while she piddled in there throughout the day, but mostly it was to give Granddaddy relief at meal times.   I have a fond memory of that TV.  I was there for dinner one evening.  The news was on.  Grandma was “givin’ ‘er” with the chatter on family and neighbourhood news.  In the midst of this I noticed Granddaddy staring at the TV and becoming agitated in a way very unlike him, so I turned to look at what was on.  It was a news story about how the face of Jesus was beginning to take shape in the rust on the side of a water tower somewhere in Ohio.  Granddaddy was as angry as I’ve ever seen him, if I ever saw him angry and he blurted out, “The Bible says that when Jesus comes back he’s coming on clouds of glory not on the side of some water tower.  Ain’t that right, boy?”  I said, “That’s right”.  He shook his head in righteous indignation and went back to eating.
Now, I cannot say much for Canada, but I know that down in the Southern U.S. where I’m from, down in the Bible Belt, people are as superstitious about their so-called face of Jesus appearances as the Roman Catholics were about their “relics” back in the Middle Ages (a piece of the cross here, another head of John the Baptist there, here a finger of Peter, there a toe of Paul).  I have actually heard it reported on the news in just the last ten years that the face of Jesus has appeared on the tin roof of a barn silo, a piece of toast, on a tortilla chip, and in the mould on a bathroom wall of a run down little house somewhere in South Carolina.  I’ve even heard a news report on a Madonna and Child taking form in a Cheeto.  And, the Jesus’s all look the same – the bearded European, Shroud of Turin-y, crusader-looking guy who bears next to no resemblance to a Middle Eastern Jew.  I don’t want to be stereo-typical about the facial features of certain races, but the silo Jesus, the water tower Jesus, the tortilla Jesus, the bathroom mould Jesus, and the Cheeto Madonna none of them in any way looked like Middle Eastern Jews.  Well, the fact is we wouldn’t know Jesus to see him if we saw him, but Channel Whatever News all over the South reports these things as if they are factual proof of the existence of Jesus and people get giddy about it. 
I’m with my grandfather on this one.  The proof of the hope of our faith is not rusting up on the side of some water tower in Ohio. But, you never know.  Maybe if a face of Jesus had appeared in the brickwork of a building or two down in Ferguson, Missouri this past week legitimate cries for justice and equality before the law may not have turned so violent so easily.  Maybe if a face of Jesus had appeared somewhere when the initial altercation occurred between Michael Brown and Officer Wilson maybe it would not have ended in a needless death. 
Today, in the wake of all that I know this morning there are some people down there, faithful people, good Christian people sitting in church hearing the same passages of Scripture read that we just read and its really speaking to them because it gives word to what’s deep down in them.  “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.”  Actually, in the Hebrew language the word we translate as “presence” is face. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your face, as when fir kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil, to make your name known to your enemies, so that the nations might tremble at your face.”  Isaiah goes on to say and I paraphrase, “You did it before when we didn’t expect it, when we didn’t deserve it.  You freed us from slavery in Egypt, and brought us to Mt. Sinai, ‘you came down, that mountain quaked at your face’.  No ear has heard.  No eye has seen any God besides you who acts for those who wait for him.”  I think there are many people down in the Southern U.S. this morning remembering how God delivered them from slavery and led them through the fight for civil rights, but this morning they are praying and shouting, “Jesus, show your face.  We are you people.  You made us who we are.  Where are you Jesus?  Come down and show your face.  Put things right here.”  I know down there this morning there’s a whole lot of people wanting Jesus to show up and do something.  Yet, Jesus for whatever reason keeps his distance and so the cry of lament legitimately goes up to God.  What a profound sense of God’s absence they must feel.
This passage from Isaiah is a lament and a special one.  Old Testament scholar Claus Westermann in his commentary of Isaiah says that this passage from Isaiah is “the most profound psalm of communal lamentation in the Bible”[1].  There’s something about laments we need to take to heart.  Their very presence in the Bible let’s us know that it’s okay for us to be angry at God when he seems to be pulling a George Jones.  We bought the ticket, stood in line, found our seat, but he ain’t showing.  It’s okay to be angry with God when he seems to be a no show. Job in the midst of his trials cries out “if only I could see God face to face.  If I could find where he lived, I’d give him the what for.” (Of course, that’s my paraphrase of the first few verses of Job 23.)  There are probably as many if not more psalms of lament in the Bible than there are psalms of praise.  Folks, it’s okay to be angry with God.  If we’re not allowed to get angry with God, then we really don’t have a relationship with him.  I would even as far as to say that he must be bring us to a place of a profound sense of God’s absence before we find ourselves profoundly aware of his presence.  I think that’s the message at the heart of this passage.  God makes us feel his absence and somehow in the wake of that he makes his presence known.
Have you ever looked looked at the state of your own life and felt the profound absence of God?  Have you ever found yourself powerless over the course of your life and in need of God’s help and yet it seems he’s nowhere to be found.  Have you ever been on your knees crying out, “Jesus, where are you?  Come!  Tear open the heavens and come down.  Jesus, show me your face.  You’ve done it before.  I’ve read my Bible It’s full of stories of your steadfast love and faithfulness, of how you did miraculous things for those who wait for you.  You did it for them.  Why don’t you do it for me?  I know it is you who has made me who I am so where are you?  Jesus, show your face!”  If you have ever felt that profound sense of God’s absence and spoken your lament, then you know what this first Sunday in Advent is about; this gut-churning waiting for God to act in the midst of the painful profoundness of his absence.  It is not Christmas that we hope and wait for.  Christmas has happened and so we stand on it in faith.  God has once and for all gotten involved in his Creation to deliver it by becoming Jesus the Christ.  Christmas has come.  It’s the completion of Christmas that we await.  It’s his coming again to put things right that we await.  The strong feelings underlying lament are mysteriously the seedbed of hope and faith through which he eventually makes his presence known.  It’s okay to be angry with God and it’s okay to let him no it.  Lament is part of how faith and hope work.  Amen.





[1] Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40-66, (David M. G. Stalker, trans.; OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969), 392.