January 25, 2009 - Epiphany 3 (RCL)
Have you ever thought about how it is
that some weeks
the readings of scripture
seem to resonate with you,
some weeks
one in particular
seems to jumps out at you,
some weeks
they seem to be speaking
to your life?
Sometimes
there seems to be no reason at all;
others,
the scriptures connect in a particular way with us
because they speak truths
that we need to hear,
truths that resound
in the context of our lives.
And when we read scripture
we always read
with the echoes of everything that is happening around us.
Some weeks
those echoes are personal,
the highs and lows of our daily lives;
sometimes
they are communal, events and experiences
that are shared by us all
that lodge in the back of our minds as we read.
And I suspect
today
is one of those latter weeks.
Where the echoes of our lives
seems to particularly connect
Overshadowing everything
at least on TV
has been the inauguration of our new President.
The celebrations began
with the concert at the Lincoln Memorial last Sunday afternoon.
Then a day of service
on Monday,
and the inauguration itself on Tuesday,
a day which began with prayer at an Episcopal Church close to the White House,
and ended, after a parade, with a series of balls.
Then Wednesday morning
a Prayer Service at National Cathedral,
and then the business of governing
began again.
What struck me most
was the amount of praying that went on.
Not just the private service Tuesday morning
and the public one on Wednesday,
but throughout the activities.
The concert began with prayer;
the inauguration began and ended with prayer,
there were prayers at meals
and no doubt prayers on the lips of many of us who were watching.
For all that we have a separation of church and state,
this national event
was shot through with prayer.
And shot through with hope.
Like the beginning of any presidency
we are hopeful,
and this one perhaps more than some others.
Because for many people in our nation
the election of someone of color
has opened a dream
in their hearts
and provided a measure of fulfillment
of the the dream of Martin Luther King.
But behind the dreams and hopes
has been another reality.
The economy.
We’re in recession,
and the decline has been dramatic.
The government is planning another bail-out package,
even as they try to finish up the first one
to make greatest effect.
There has been more reshuffling in the banking sector
and the stock market
bumps around,
gaining and losing
until we’re not sure
where things are going.
And we’re beginning to see the effects of it all,
not just in the news
but in our lives.
Favorite stores and businesses are closing.
People are losing their jobs.
Many of us are having to be a lot more careful with our money.
It’s a time of uncertainty, a time of struggle.
and a time when I suspect
many of us are doing a hole lot of praying.
And so we read our scriptures today
with both the inauguration
and the economy, hope and uncertainty, echoing in the back of our heads.
But today
we also read
in the context of a baptism.
Today we will welcome little Matthew
into the church,
into the family of God.
As water is poured
in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
he will move from sin to freedom,
from darkness to light,
from death to life.
And he will be marked
as belonging
to Christ.
It always seems kind of strange
when we baptize babies
to use such heavy words.
Sin, darkness, death.
All this
for a baby
whose biggest sin
is demanding what he needs
to survive and grow.
A baby
who brings smiles to our faces,
who embodies life and joy.
But we know, we know too well
that the world around us
is a difficult place
and that we need all the help and the hope we can get.
And baptism is about the reality of living in that world,
living in that world
as people of God,
people who bring freedom and light and life.
And so, going back to where I began
we read our Scriptures today
with the mixture of fear and uncertainly and hope and celebration.
And while I normally preach on one of the three readings,
today it’s the fourth one, the one we read together, the psalm
that speaks particularly clearly
to us today.
For God alone my soul in silence waits; *
truly, my hope is in him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation, *
my stronghold, so that I shall not be shaken.
In God is my safety and my honor; *
God is my strong rock and my refuge.
Put your trust in him always, O people, *
pour out your hearts before him, for God is our refuge.
It’s so clear, this psalm. God is our refuge. God is the one we go to
when we need a place of safety.
God is like a rock. And when you live in the desert, a place of blowing sand and harsh sun,
a rock is a good thing.
It is solid,
immovable,
it shelters you from the wind and the sand,
it provides shade during the day
and in cold clear nights
radiates back that day’s heat.
If you live in the desert, God as a rock
is a strong image of safety.
But what about us? for us here in the twenty-first century, what does it mean for God to be our refuge and our hope?
One of the things I’ve been thinking about the last few days as I pray,
is how it is
that we relate to God.
Where do we imagine ourselves
as we talk with God?
Sometimes
I imagine
that God and I
are both sitting in big comfortable armchairs
in front of a roaring fire
each with a glass in our hands,
chatting.
But recently, I’ve had a different image.
It might be because my cat Bede
likes to snuggle up to me
when I’m praying.
But I’ve been thinking
how our pets
connect with us.
When Bede wants comfort
he pushes his way into my arms,
sometimes even under my jacket.
Doesn’t matter what I’m doing. He just wants to be with me, as close as he can get, to be held and reassured.
I’m not sure that I would go quite so far as to say
I’m God’s pet,
but there is something about that sense of being close
to the one who can provide your every need,
being held and reassured,
dependent in a good way
that can be the wonderful gift
of our relationships with God.
God is
our refuge,
God is our hope.
God is our refuge.
In the hope of a new presidency,
God is our refuge.
President Obama
is neither the Messiah
nor the antichrist.
He is the president, a man elected to lead
and to serve this country
at an incredibly difficult time,
and he is one who, with us,
is called
to put his hope in God.
God is our refuge.
In the despair and uncertainty of a financial crisis and recession
God is our refuge.
Governments and bankers
can only do so much.
Only God
can we rely on.
God is our refuge.
And in the joy of baptism,
God is our refuge.
babies
give us all hope. They carry such promise
of the future.
But in the end,
they
can’t save us either.
It is God
who is our refuge.
God is our hope.
And so this week
I invite you
that
when you feel anxious
or uncertain
and when you feel
hopeful
and joyous,
turn to God.
Imagine yourself
in the safety
of God ‘s arms.
Pray yourself
into that place.
And trust
that God is indeed
your refuge, your hope,
our refuge, our hope.
© Raewynne J. Whiteley 2009