07/16 God of all...
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Mystic Congregational Church, UCC

Mystic, Connecticut

Sermon from July 16, 2006

“God of All Things, God In All Things”

Rev. Patricia L. Liberty

Scriptures:

Psalm 130

Mark 5:21-43

If you’re over a certain age or spent any amount of time in a tradition other than the Congregational, say perhaps Baptist or Methodist, you may remember that the second verse of the hymn, Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing, begins with “Here I raise mine Ebenezer,” not “Here I raise to thee an altar.”

Chances are good though that, regardless of age or prior religious affiliation, you probably have no idea what an Ebenezer is, let alone how to raise it.  An anonymous blogger writes, “For the longest time, whenever I sang that hymn in church, I pictured holding old man Scrooge up in his pajamas over our head as we sang.”  You may be relieved to know that’s not what it means.  It is, in fact, a reference to a time in Israel’s history that comes to fruition in this morning’s text.  So, please bear with me as we explore a couple hundred years of colorful Israelite history. 

Ebenezer is the place where the Philistines defeated Israel in battle and captured the Ark of the Covenant which symbolized God’s presence.  Israel was a little off the beaten path of faithfulness at that time, and carried the Ark into battle as a good luck charm.  Needless to say, God was less than thrilled.

So, the Philistines trudge off with the Ark, thinking they have a fabulous war trophy, and for their troubles, every village that possesses the Ark is afflicted with plagues and all kinds of awful stuff.  It takes them twenty years or so to catch on to what is happening, which makes you wonder how they won the war, but they call up Israel and say, “Take this thing back; it is bad news.”

During those twenty years, Israel has had time aplenty to reflect on her wayward ways, and get back on the path.  With the help of Samuel, they repent of their evil ways and God answers their prayers. They defeat the Philistines and Samuel puts up a stone to commemorate their answered prayer and he named it Ebenezer.

If you checked out during the history lesson and have been making your grocery list, now would be a good time to check back in because here’s the point.  Ebenezer means stone of help.  Israel’s greatest defeat came to represent her greatest victory.  Samuel raises the Ebenezer stone to proclaim God’s faithfulness, mercy and goodness, transforming that dismal period in Israel’s history into a victory.

Fast-forward a few centuries give or take, we find David, dancing in the street before the Ark of the Covenant, jumping for joy.  The events set in motion by Israel’s repentance under Samuel’s leadership come to fruition here as David brings the Ark of the Covenant home. 

Bruce Epperly writes, “The Hebraic scriptures shout for joy, and invite us to read them with the accompaniment of drums, cymbals, saxophones, flutes, and all types of celebrative song. A new nation is emerging and David is dancing in the streets, celebrating God’s greatness and love with all his might.”

It’s hard to imagine that kind of unbridled joy in worship.   But for those of us who did time with the Baptists and Pentecostals, there is something to be said for getting on your feet and out of your head, feeling God in your bones.  That’s what this text is all about.  David is overcome with a sense of God's presence in the moment and it leads him to joy filled outburst of dance.  The moment exploded with holiness and David could not contain himself. 

Now, when's the last time that happened to you—a moment when you knew God was as real as your breath, when you felt God as close as a whisper?  Those moments are transforming for us and for our faith.  And the witness of the 1758 hymn by Robert Robinson and David's dancing in the street bears witness to the truth that  God is present in every moment, planting possibilities with every encounter, inspiring adventures with every step. 

That thread runs through much of the Judeo part of our Judeo-Christian tradition.  It is the capacity for radical amazement, a term coined by Abraham Joshua Heschel, a Jewish theologian of the last century.  It points to spiritual discipline and perspective that is open to the life-giving presence of God in every moment, an acknowledgement that God’s purpose is greater, God’s presence more sustaining than what any moment, event or seeming defeat can dish out.

Bruce Epperly goes on to say, “There is trouble a plenty in our world, but we can, in the spirit of the films It’s a Wonderful Life and Life is Beautiful, proclaim that beauty trumps ugliness, love transforms hate, and imagination creates a new world even in the midst of violence, greed, and hatred.  God’s patient love will outlast all the tyrants and oppressors.”  That’s a promise to hang on to in light of the events of this week that join the other threats of destruction that that are already afoot in that unstable part of the world.

The witness of these texts is that God’s gracious presence makes every moment holy and that holiness is there for the discovering.  The Psalmist gives us the key to that discovery. 

I will listen…. 

Into the noise of our lives comes this bit of wisdom from antiquity…

I will listen….

It is the foundation for radical amazement.

It is the invitation to pause, take a breath, and to notice God’s wonderful, lively, beautiful world as present in a grain of sand as in a spectacular sunset. 

To those who are over scheduled, over stressed, over programmed and chronically over stimulated, cramming every waking moment with too much to do and too much to worry about, the invitation of the Psalmist is one we do well to heed. 

Stop, breathe, listen, look, feel.  These are the spiritual disciplines of a lifetime.  These are the avenues that remind us of God's spirit and presence in the course of our days.

The spirit of the Psalmist’s invitation is captured in the words of  John O’Donohue’s Blessing:

Beannacht
("Blessing")

 On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

 And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

 When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

 May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

There is a final piece to the journey.  In God’s economy, it’s never just about us; it’s not about our needs only.  It always moves full circle.  The ecstasy that takes David out of himself and places him in relationship to God inspires him to feed the people. And we are called to celebration in a world of action, to paraphrase Thomas Merton.

The Psalmist comes full circle as well.  Listening leads to action.  Love and faithfulness meet each other.  Righteousness and peace kiss.

Rejoicing in God’s wonder, we want others to experience that same delight. We share our faith and personal story, we pray on their behalf, we rejoice in the humor of life, and we provide bread for hungry and homes for homeless.  It’s never an either or proposition, always a both and.

Whenever we listen for God, we are always led back out into God’s world to do God’s work.  And, there in the midst of the world's struggles and joys, we can recognize the presence of God in ways that transform the moment with radical amazement.

Amen.