A light in the dark

Third Sunday after Epiphany-Year A

January 26, 2014

Matthew 4:12-23

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the lake, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

  "Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
     on the road by the sea, across the Jordan,
     Galilee of the Gentiles—
  the people who sat in darkness
     have seen a great light,
  and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
     light has dawned."

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near."

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

One of the things that I miss most about being in Papua New Guinea (other than the heat this time of year) is the sky. There were few factories in the country that kicked out large amounts of smoke or smog. As an island, there were few neighboring countries that contributed greatly to the amount of pollution in the air. What that meant was during the day the sky was usually the most brilliant of blues, with puffy white clouds sprinkled throughout. Think of a beautiful summer day, and that was what pretty much every day looked like.

The nights were even better. As you can imagine, there weren't many large cities around that pumped out tons of light that broke into the darkness. In most places, after the sun went down the only light you had was the moon and the stars. Yet, the clear air was such that it was often easy to see even with the moon and stars being the only light sources. It was amazing to me how when things truly are pitch black, several thousand pinpricks of light in the sky can cause the darkness the seem somehow less.

When we are young, we are dependent on others. Our entire life depends on someone else. Someone needs to feed us, someone needs to change us, someone needs to pick us up and give us a hug and a cuddle. I think all of us have seen or heard a child start to cry when they think they are alone, when they can't see a parent or a caretaker. They might just be in another room, just a few feet away; but, it doesn't matter. They can't be seen, which means they aren't around. Psychologists talk about the idea of object permanence. Children have to learn, they have to get old enough to realize, that when they can't see something it can still be there. It's why peek-a-boo works so well with babies, but once a child is a few years old they look at you funny if you do what they found so fascinating and amazing just a year or so earlier.

Being in the dark can make it virtually impossible to know what is around you. You can't know in the dark if something is in front of you, beside you, behind you. All of us have walked across a dark room and paid the price with stubbed toes and bruised shins; and that was in a room we knew well. Imagine what it would be like to walk across a room when you had no idea what might be there; where the chairs are, where the tables are, if there is a throw-rug, a dog sleeping in the middle of the room, a forgotten toy. Trying to navigate in a dark room can be completely unnerving.

But, if you had a light, even a small one, things are suddenly different. You can at the very least see the shadows around you of furniture and things on the floor. You can see the shadows of doors and walls. You may not be able to see everything, yet suddenly the amount of worry we have about running into something, about tripping over something is immediately reduced. And, if you have a larger light then the worry is almost completely removed.

There was a day when the world didn't have electric lights, when we didn't have cellphones that could be used as flashlights. There was a time when once the sun went down, the only light around was from a flickering fire, or the lights in the skies. And if the fire went out, and the sky was cloudy it was dark. The reality of being in darkness was real, the comfort that was known by having even the smallest of lights was known.

Isaiah's words about people living in darkness having seen the light speak to the comfort of knowing, the comfort of knowing what is around you, what lies before you, that you are not alone. Matthew quotes these verses in reference to Jesus beginning his ministry in Capernaum. And in quoting these verses he identifies Jesus with the light that enters the darkness. The light that brings comfort and awareness that we are not alone, that we are never alone, that in his presence we can know better, see more easily, the path that is before us.

The path before us is the same path that Jesus called the first disciples to: to be fishers of people. It's a funny phrase that we often just hear and accept without thinking too much about it. But, if we think a bit, it can easily cause some rather amusing images to appear in our minds: what sort of tackle and bait do you use? Is there a size limit? Is it a catch and release type of system (seems like it often is)? When Jesus told his first disciples that they were going to be fishing for people, was he seeking to get them to understand that all people have a place in the kingdom he was announcing?

Jesus called the disciples, and us, into a relationship with him and with those around us. God's call is in many ways truly about relationships. Us with God, and us with others: bearing each other's burdens, caring for each other and especially the vulnerable, holding onto each other through thick and thin, always with the hope and promise of God’s abundant grace. “Jesus called ordinary people right in the middle of their ordinary lives to be in relationship with the ordinary people all around them and through that did extraordinary things … and he still does.”¹

In the first days of his ministry, Jesus reached out to ordinary people – fisherman. He could have reached out to people who were rich, people who were powerful – but he didn't; he reached out to people that worked hard for a living, people who knew what it was like to have days when you came home feeling like you had accomplished nothing other than getting tired. He reached out to people where they were and said, I love you for who you are, and I want you, the you you are to be in relationship with me, to be a part of my kingdom.

God is interested in ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill, average, regular people! Had Jesus recruited only the most religious, holy, pious people of his time, the richest, the most powerful, the most popular -- most of us would be left out. We would get the impression that genuine faith was only for the select few. But that’s not what Jesus did. He went to the fishermen.

And that’s the point, that’s the lesson we are to receive.  If Jesus can use a fisherman, he can use me, he can use you. God has a role for each and everyone of us us to play. To a fisherman he says, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." The carpenter's invitation reads, "Follow me and I will make you build people."  The accountant will hear it as, "Follow me and I will make you help people know they count."  The waitress will hear, "Follow me and I will make you serve the spiritual hunger of people."  The physician will hear, "Follow me and I will make you a healer of people's souls." A tired, overworked mom's call is, "Follow me and I will make you a builder of children."

You were meant to be a part of God's divine plan to bring light, hope and meaning to a dark world.  You can do this where you are.  In fact, Christ needs you where you are. Fishermen will reach the fishermen.  Teachers will reach the teachers. Farmers will reach the farmers. Builders will reach the builders. Hairstylists will reach the hairstylists. Moms and Dads will reach the moms and dads. Kids will reach the kids.

Yes, God is calling you, each and every one of you to follow; to be a light in the darkness. It's a daunting task, especially when we look around and we see how much pain, sorrow, sickness and disease there is in the world. It can be easy to throw up our hands, “What's the point, there's too much, it's too big.” The world is too big for any of us to have much if any effect on it, yet, we can have an impact on a small part of the world; on a person. One of the the things I notice about the way Jesus worked is how he did miracles. When he did a miracle, when he healed someone – he addressed their need, one on one. When he encountered someone who was blind, he didn't heal every blind person in the world, he came to the aid of the person in front of him. When he encountered someone who was paralyzed, he didn't eliminate crippling diseases from the world, he helped one person to walk.

God is calling each and every one of us, exactly where we are and as we are to be a point of light in the life of others. God is calling us to bring light into the darkness. God isn't asking us to transform the night into day, the darkness to light. God is asking us to be the match in the darkened room. Just a little bit, not much. A warm blanket on a cold night. A meal on a day when there had been no food. A pair of shoes to replace the ones that were more holes than soles. A warm conversation in middle of loneliness. A hug when there is no love.

Jesus didn't call the fishermen to build bridges. Jesus didn't call the fishermen to sing operas. Jesus didn't call the fishermen to knit scarves. Jesus called the fishermen to fish. God is calling you to do what you do, to be the person you are, with the gifts and abilities, interests and passions you have, to be a light, to share with others the light. How is God calling you to be a light? God is calling, may we respond.  Amen.

1https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=3018

Waiting and Singing

Second Sunday after Epiphany – Year A

January 19, 2014

Psalm 40:1-11

I waited patiently for God;
   who inclined to me and heard my cry.

God drew me up from the desolate pit,
   out of the miry bog,
God set my feet upon a rock,
   making my steps secure.

God put a new song in my mouth,
   a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
   and put their trust in God.

Happy are those who make God their trust,
   who do not turn to the proud,
     to those who go astray after false gods.

You have multiplied, O God my God,
   your wondrous deeds and your thoughts towards us;
none can compare with you.

Were I to proclaim and tell of them,
   they would be more than can be counted.

Sacrifice and offering you do not desire,
   but you have given me an open ear.
Burnt-offering and sin-offering
   you have not required.

Then I said, "Here I am;
   in the scroll of the book it is written of me.

I delight to do your will, O my God;
   your law is within my heart."

I have told the glad news of deliverance
   in the great congregation;
see, I have not restrained my lips,
   as you know, O God.

I have not hidden your saving help
   within my heart,
I have spoken of your faithfulness
  and your salvation;

I have not concealed your steadfast love
   and your faithfulness
I have not concealed them
   from the great congregation.

Do not, O God, withhold your mercy from me;
   let your steadfast love and your faithfulness
   keep me safe for ever.

It seems like one of the constants in life nowadays is waiting. Perhaps it's not just nowadays, maybe it was something that we've had to do since the Garden of Eden; and it's just something that seems more a part of our daily lives now. I don't know about you, but it seems like a spend a lot of time each and every day waiting. To be honest, I'm not sure I want to know how many minutes, perhaps hours I spend each day waiting.

I start my day waiting for the coffee to brew. I wait for the girls to come downstairs. I wait for them to make up their minds about breakfast. I wait for them to finish getting dressed and ready for school. I wait for the dog to be done outside so I can let him back in. I wait for the lights to change at intersections. I wait in line at the store. I wait for the girls after school. I wait for dinner to be done. I wait for bedtime to come, so the girls will go to bed. And that's just in a normal day.

Many times there will be other things happening that require waiting. Waiting for food at a restaurant. Waiting for the doctor to come into the room. Waiting for them to finish fixing the car. Waiting for the meeting to begin. Waiting for the meeting to end. Waiting in line at the driver's license office. Waiting in line at the movie theater. If you go on vacation to a destination of some kind, you will likely be in a line of some kind. Lines at the gate of an amusement park. Lines to get on a ride. Lines and waiting seem to be something that we can't escape.

I've noticed there are times when waiting is really, really annoying. But, there are times when waiting is hardly even noticed. I once stood in line for 3 hours, and barely noticed because I was engrossed in a really great conversation with the people I was with. I've waited for an hour in line at an amusement park, waiting to spend 2 minutes on a ride; and it was totally worth it. But, there are times when I've waited for 2 minutes for an hour-long event that was totally not worth it. It seems to me that our willingness to wait, is directly related to how much worth we place on what we are waiting for. The more valuable, the more willing we are to wait; the less valuable, the more impatient we become.

Our Psalm this morning is about waiting, and the rewards of waiting. As we read the words, we discover the story of someone who had been in trouble, in turmoil, in distress; someone who cried out to God for deliverance and their response to God's action.

As we read through the Psalm, as we listen to the accounting of the events of the Psalmist's life there are three specific things we can discover about waiting for God, about crying out to God: God is listening, God responds, and God inspires us to respond.

Most of the time it seems like lots of people are talking, but not that many people are listening. Day after day, we post something on Facebook and wait for someone to respond, for someone to have “listened” to what we have to say – often with little or no response. Even with some of our closest friends it may seem as if we are having two one-sided conversations at the same time; we are talking about what we want, they they are talking about what they want. Lots of talking, not a whole lot of listening. And then, we're surprised to learn they are sick, that they're moving.

Listening is important. The German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer stated that the first service we owe to others is to listen to them. If we fail to listen, there are spiritual consequences because as he says,"...he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either.' "1

The good news is that God is listening to us. Whether we are enjoying good times or languishing in tough times - the affirmation of the scripture is that God is paying attention to the details of our living, and listening to our laughter and our cries.

But God does more than just pay attention to us, listen to us. God responds to our need, God guides us. In faith, when we cry out to God, God listens and responds. As the Psalmist says, "He drew me up from the desolate pit, set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure." God responds to our need. Not only does God come to our need in the moment, but when we learn to trust in God's ways, when we learn to be patient, God will guide our ways, guide our comings and our goings in such a way that we are secure. It's not that we will be free of turmoil, that we will have lives of ease. It's that when we wait on the Lord, when we are patient and trust in God, we discover that much of what we are worried about isn't really worth worrying about. Trusting in God automatically reduces the level of worry we have about life, our lives feel more at ease, more secure. God sets us free from the desolate pits. Then, in response to God's actions in our lives we give thanks. A new song of praise explodes out of our being. A song of thanksgiving.

I have this tendency that when I get excited about something, I can't help but talk about it; I want to share my new discovery with others. Maybe it's a new book that I found moving. Maybe it's a movie I just saw. Maybe it's a piece of trivia or a recipe. When I have found something, discovered something, experienced something I found to be valuable, to be life-changing I want to tell others about it.

This is what the Psalmist is saying. God has heard. God has responded to his cries. God has done wonderful, powerful, life-changing things in their life, and they want others to know. They have shared the stories of God's deliverance with the people they meet. As the gospel song says, “How can I keep from singing?”

All of us have different things that spring to mind when it comes to scripture readings. For me, this Psalm causes me to hum a song, a song by U2 called 40. It's words are taken directly from this Psalm. It was wonderful as I prepared this week to see that I was not the only one who thought of the song when reading the Psalm. One of the commentators shared a story about the power of the song I want to share with you.

“In the spring of 1985, U2's The Unforgettable Fire tour stopped in Hartford, Connecticut.” “The final encore of the evening was '40,'” As the band left the stage one by one, the enthusiastic crowd continued the songs refrain: “I will sing, sing a new song.” Even as the crowd poured out of the stadium, huge bands of fans carried the tune onto the city streets: “I will sing, sing a new song.”2

God has done wonderful things for us. God has rescued us from the pit of sin, from the bog of pointless life. God has placed our feet upon a secure path, a way of living that reflects God's love and desires for us. How can we keep from singing?

As a lover of music, one of the things I often find myself doing is humming a song. Sometimes it's a song that just springs into my mind for no apparent reason, sometimes it's something I heard on the radio recently, but often it's the result of hearing another person singing or humming it. A good song, is sort of like a yawn: it's contagious. And the song that God inspires within us to sing is also contagious. We sing because we have heard the songs of others, and others will be inspired to sing when they hear our songs of praise, when they hear our declarations of God's acts of love and faithfulness in our lives.

May we follow the example of the Psalmist and wait patiently on the Lord, and then share with others the powerful stories of God's deliverance and love. Amen.

1   p. 97, Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, Life Together. New York: Harper & Row Publishers, Inc., 1954

2  p. 249 Feasting on the Word, Year A volume 1, edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, WJK press, 2010