Tuesday, June 22, 2010

1 Kings 19:1-4, 8-15 In the Silence

Because we have not used the lectionary to choose our scripture reading for the past couple of weeks – what with Children’s Sunday two weeks ago and then a guest preacher last week – today we find ourselves thrown into the middle of the story of one of the earliest and most famous of all the Jewish prophets, Elijah. Let’s take a moment to catch up on what the Biblical writer has told us so far about this man in this first history book about the Kings of Israel.

Now, if we were to go back a couple of chapters, we would find that Elijah began to strut his stuff as a prophet on the day he confidently proclaimed to the currently reigning King Ahab and his queen, Jezebel, that there was simply no way around what was going to happen.

Elijah told them in no uncertain terms that they better get used to the fact that Ahab’s kingdom would soon be consumed in drought. “There won’t be a drop of rain – or even dew for that matter – for the next two or three years – in fact, the drought will not end until I say so,” Elijah announced. Pretty heady stuff for a rookie prophet!

But lo and behold, that is exactly what occurred. The grasses started to wither and die. Ahab could not help but begin to fear that there would not be enough grain to feed the horses and mules - let alone enough to feed the people.

Now, being a prophet and harbinger of bad news to boot is not an easy task. It is little wonder then that Elijah decided he would be better off keeping a low profile – staying beneath the radar screen - for the next three years.

However, grudges die hard, especially in the face of a major drought. Surely then, Elijah should not have been surprised even after all that time that Ahab’s first words to him when he presented himself in the royal court were “So there you are – the worst troublemaker in Israel.”

“Hey!” Elijah responded. “Do not shoot the messenger. I am not the troublemaker. You are – what with you and Jezebel encouraging everyone to worship all those idols of Baal (one of the local pagan cults) instead of our God, Yahweh.”

Ah, here was the crux of the matter. Yahweh or Baal? And because these ancient peoples were not particularly drawn to civil discourse as a way to resolve their disagreements, this difference in religious perspective led to an impressive theological showdown – kind of like a spiritual shootout to determine who was the real God – Baal or Yahweh? UCC pastor Joe Dunham describes the scene like this:

“On one side were 450 prophets of Baal, and the 400 priests of Asherah, and, on the other side, Elijah. He has an altar built for each side, each laid with wood and a bull cut up and put on each altar but no fire started.

So (Elijah) invites the prophets of Baal to call on their god to consume their offering. They pray and dance. Nothing happens. They chant and cut themselves. Nothing happens.

Then Elijah begins to taunt them: Maybe your god is day dreaming and you need to try harder to get his attention; maybe he is off relieving himself (yes, that is in the Bible story), or maybe he has gone on a trip! Maybe your god is asleep--shout louder!

(Now) Elijah has water poured on the altar in front of him. He prays and fire descends from the sky and consumes everything--meat, wood, water and rocks! It's quite a fireworks display. (And then) at Elijah's urging, the people seize the prophets of Baal and put them to the sword.

(And) the rain begins to fall to break the drought. Ahab rides off in his chariot and Elijah runs ahead of him all the way back to the city….

(Now, back at the palace) Jezebel is not pleased with the news about what Elijah has done…(After all, Baal was her god and those 400 plus prophets all reported to the queen). (In fact), she seethes with anger and sends the message to Elijah--"I'll get you for this!"… (Knowing enough not to trifle with a woman like Jezebel), Elijah beats it out of town.”

It is here that our scripture for today begins – and we find our prophet under a royal death sentence, now a refugee fleeing the northern kingdom of Israel, half starved, ready to give it all up under a miserable old broom tree, a bush hardly able to shade a bird, much less a man, and surely asking himself where Yahweh was whom he had so recently championed in such a spectacular way. Where was God now that Elijah himself really needed the Holy One?

And so we come upon Elijah walking – really more symbolically than literally – walking in the wilderness for forty days until he reaches Mount Sinai, the holy mountain of Moses, and there he crawls into a cave for the night.

Perhaps he thought that surely he would confront God here in this most sacred of Hebrew places, for it was at precisely this locale that Moses long ago had encountered Yahweh in the earthquake, wind, and fire on the summit.

The words of the ancient tale came back to Elijah vividly as he lay curled up in his cave: “Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke, (he remembered) because the Lord descended upon it in fire; and the smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain quaked greatly. And as the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder.”

Surely, Elijah thought, he too – being a prophet as well – would have a similar experience and be reaffirmed of God’s presence in his life in the form of some pyrotechnic display of power.

But, no, that is not what happened to Elijah. Unlike his illustrious ancestor, Elijah was chilled by the mighty and furious wind that split the nearby hills and shattered the rocks about him – but God was not in the wind.

Elijah felt the earth shake, rattle, and roll beneath his feet as he wondered whether the cave he hid in would collapse around him – but God was not in the earthquake.

Elijah felt the scorching heat of fire erupting and consuming everything in the near vicinity of the cave – but God was not in the fire.

And then - and then - there was silence – absolute silence. And out of the silence came a whisper no louder than the sound of butterfly wings – and, in that silence, Elijah found God. When all the sound had drained away, when and where he least expected it, physically fatigued, mentally frazzled, spiritually fractured, Elijah found God – and a fresh start and a new beginning.

We live in a world of sound, you and I. We have created a culture of noise. We are hooked up to our Ipods, listening to the thousands of songs we have downloaded. We keep our television sets on - blaring out the news, The Bachelorette, and Grey’s Anatomy - even when we are not watching them. We talk on our cell phones as we hurtle down the interstate at 70 miles an hour.

We go to sleep to the sound of white noise – the whoosh of waves hitting a beach on some island paradise. And we wake up to the sound of birds merrily chirping in our clocks or maybe the alarm just incessantly ringing.

There is a movie with Gina Davis entitled “The Accidental Tourist.” In it, she plays an extremely extraverted receptionist who works in a veterinarian’s office. One afternoon, she is carrying on a very one-sided conversation with a man attempting to pick up his dog.

After she has rattled on about everything and nothing, she pauses and poses a question to the man. “Don’t you sometimes,” she asks, “just like to pick up the phone and call someone – just to talk?”

We surround ourselves with people – and we talk – at parties, in bars, on airplanes. We talk with people we know and to people we do not know. We fill all our lives with words and noise. It is almost as if we are shoving the silence as far away as possible, constructing walls and barriers of noise to keep the silence at bay.

Why? I think maybe we are afraid of silence, afraid of what we might find if we intentionally push away the words and noise and let the silence seep in. Will it be scary? Will it feel empty? Will we be lonely? Will it be more than we can handle?

And yet, most people will claim that their deepest spiritual moments, those times when they have felt God most acutely and vividly, occurred when the noise around them finally subsided. Maybe it happened in the silence of a rainbow or a sunrise.

Maybe it happened in a hospice room as a beloved gently and quietly moved to whatever it is that comes next. Maybe it happened when a hand was held in silence because words were not necessary in the presence of the Almighty.

There is something to be said for the silence that we all so studiously avoid. Oh, it is true - sometimes we will find God in the fury of the wind, the quaking of the earth, and the pyrotechnics of the fire – but not always.

Elijah discovered that fact as he stood in the mouth of a cave on Mount Sinai, so sure that God would come to him in the same way God had once come to Moses. Sometimes we find God in the noise, but always, if we are patient, mindful, and intentional, always we will find God in the silence. I think that is at least part of the truth we can glean from this story of one of Judaism’s most powerful prophets.

And so your challenge this week is to be like Elijah in that cave. You see, too often we, like the prophet, expect “God to be present in dramatic manifestations and astounding miracles. And so God is, sometimes. But to a prophet at the end of his tether, drained of strength and wishing he were dead, it is not supernatural displays of power, but God’s whispered word that will speak to him at his time of crisis.”

Maybe it can be that way for us too. And so my charge to each one of you is to intentionally push the noise away and rest for a while sometime this week. Make the time to let the words that define your life fade away for awhile.

Breathe deeply of the silence – and you too may be as surprised as Elijah was when, in that silence, when he least expected it, the ancient prophet found God – and a new beginning. May it be the same for you. In the silence, may you hear the gentle whisper of God, speaking not even words, but simply encouragement and, most of all, love and a peace which passes all our understanding.

Rev. Nancy Foran is pastor of the Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine


http://www.rvccme.org/

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 What is Wisdom Saying to Us?

Though it is not unique in the totality of the lectionary, it is a bit unusual to encounter the Book of Proverbs as a scripture for worshipful reflection. If you are like me, you think of Proverbs as that book of almost quaint Biblical one-liners with some plain commonsense nuggets thrown in – like “Pride goeth before the fall” or “Drinking too much makes you loud and foolish” or “If you tell lies in court, you will be punished.”

But did you know that there is a preface to all these little rules for better living, something to start them all off? The verses we just read are part of that preface and are not anything like the adages attributed to King Solomon that follow.

Instead, these verses are part of a beautiful poem in praise of wisdom – not simply knowledge, mind you, but wisdom. To be more precise, this poem is an accolade to God’s wisdom, with a capital “W” - and yes, this sacred Wisdom is personified as a “she.”

In this ode to Wisdom – Sophia, in the Greek – we discover that Wisdom was made in the very beginning, before the world was born. She was there before the oceans, before the mountains, before the fields and forests.

She was there before the sky was set in place, before the clouds. Wisdom was there when God laid the earth’s foundations and birthed the first peoples. You see, Wisdom is the innate order of the universe – the rules of nature – the way God organized all that is.

In short, Wisdom embodies God’s intent for the world. Wisdom is God’s holy imagining about the world at its very best. Wisdom is God’s sense of the meaning and purpose behind life on this sacred earth.

And down through the ages, since before the very beginning of time, Wisdom has spoken – and continues to speak. Wisdom utters words of direction and counsel. She speaks through the prophets and most certainly through Jesus.

Even today, in the midst of all the progress we have made, sounding through all our advanced technology, whispering in and around all our intellectual gymnastics and prowess, Wisdom has a message for us, and it is a message that we need to hear. No matter who we are or where we are on our spiritual journey, Wisdom still tells us what we need to know in order to live our lives as God intended.

What then is Wisdom saying to us?

Oh, lots of things, I suppose – though in the end they all have to do with simple concepts like love and reconciliation – neighbors helping neighbors even if one of them happens to be Samaritan, a ne’er do well brother welcomed home with a fatted calf and a warm bed in spite of his profligate and checkered past, banquet tables where rich and poor, beggar and prostitute, Israeli and Palestinian, American Christian and Muslim for once all sit down together and join hands and hearts in grace.

Surely that is how God imagines the world at its best.

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

What is Wisdom – God’s Wisdom - saying to us?

The prophet Isaiah would tell us this: “They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.” (Isaiah 2:4)

Arline, my dearest –

Today is our 20th day in action, yet it seems like years. What has happened to me and my Battalion would be scoffed at, even in a ten cent novel, as being impossible. Why the few of us left alive – are alive – is something to figure out in church.

I’ve seen so many of my very best friends killed beside me. I just can’t believe it is all really happening. I never in my wildest dreams knew such terror could grip your very soul. The night we jumped – D-Day –was the pay off night. My chute was on fire from tracer bullets when I landed - right in front of a machine gun emplacement. I cut out of my harness and crawled for a couple of hours with bullets whistling past my ears coming from seemingly every direction. I can’t tell you what else went on.

My darling, I love you more than life itself – I’ve realized that many times these last 3 weeks when I thought I was going to be killed and always the regret of missing seeing and marrying you were topmost in my mind at the time. Goodbye for awhile – George.

Parachutes ablaze, bullets whistling past, gut-wrenching terror - this is not God’s intent. This can not be how God imagines the world at its best.

So then - what is wisdom – God’s Wisdom - saying to us?

The Apostle Paul would say: “Return no one evil for evil...live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:17)

Dearest wife,

Many times like tonight – I have nothing to do but lay here and think- why I am here as well as all the men in my platoon – age makes no difference – there are very few kids over here – a few yes but they grow up fast or get killed. Why I have to watch a man die or get wounded – why I have to be the one to tell someone to do something that may get him blown away – but if I don’t we might all get blown away.

Babes, I don’t know what the answer is. Being a good platoon leader is a lonely job. I don’t want to really get to know anybody over here (in the rice paddies) because it would be bad enough to lose a man- I damn sure don’t want to lose a friend.” All my love always, Dean.

Such abject loneliness, that fear of getting too close to anyone, this is not God’s intent. This can not be how God imagines the world at its best.

So then - what is wisdom – God’s Wisdom - saying to us?

Paul would go on to say: “God has called us to live in peace…The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world.” (1 Corinthians 7:5, 2 Corinthians 10:4)

Dear Mom and Jim,

I went to work on the 17th of January at midnight. One hour later our commander told us it was time. Jet after jet screamed off into pitch black night loaded to the hilt with bombs bound for Iraq. The ground trembled for nearly half an hour until the last jet lifted off. And then it was quiet. Almost six months wondering which would prevail. Peace or war. Now I know. I stood there and felt sorry that it had come to this…. God forgive us.

It was daytime when the jets began to come back, and we counted them as they appeared off in the distance and landed. They all made it. We loaded new weapons, fresh pilots were brought in, and the jets were off again.

I can’t see how Iraq can take this pounding 24 hours a day for much longer. I hope it ends soon. Love, Frank

The jets screaming, the bombs pounding relentlessly, this is not God’s intent. This can not be how God imagines the world at its best. So then - what is wisdom – God’s Wisdom- saying to us?

Jesus summed it all up: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.” (Matthew 5:9)

Memorial Day Sunday is an odd sort of day in the American church. The church bulletin companies would have us believe that we are both irreligious and unpatriotic if we do not have the cross wrapped in the American flag, emblazoned on the front of a special bulletin cover.

There are those who would question our patriotism as well as the strength of our Christian beliefs if we did not set aside this Sunday to honor not only the dead but also the surviving who have lived a soldier’s life - because either way, the rationale goes, they have sacrificed great things for the glory of their country.

And there are those who would say that, on this particular Sunday, at the very least the church ought to provide a balance between an emphasis on striving for peace and remembering those who serve.

However, from my perspective, that is not the role of the church. The church is not about striking balances. Surely Jesus made that startlingly clear in his ministry – and living out the courage of that conviction is part of what lead to his untimely death.

No – the role of the church is always, always to look at the world through the eyes of Sophia, through the lens of God’s Wisdom that has been here since before the beginning, and then to have the courage if its convictions to tell the world in no uncertain terms what it sees.

And so the church looks at the typical American soldier in the tribute in the insert and generalizes it to include other young men – and women – from around the world. The church listens to the war letters we read this morning counterpointed by the Biblical calls for peace-making.

And the lens of Wisdom brings it all into focus. Wisdom tells us that war is not what God had in mind. Wisdom tells us that since the dawn of time, all of humanity has strayed from what God intended.

The realization of this squandered legacy is what the American church faces on Memorial Day Sunday – and it is both touching and terrifying. You see, it is not about patriotism. It is not about being appropriately religious and balanced. It is about Wisdom.

And so, in the end, with tears in our eyes, we do honor those who died at war. However, here in the church we honor them not as an assessment of our patriotism and not as a manifestation of our ability to balance the diverse political views within our congregations.

Here in Christ’s church, we honor those who died at war because their deaths – every last one of them – are tragedies.

Elsewhere we may honor the fallen ones for their heroism or their own brand of patriotism or for the medals of honor they received. But here in the church we weep for them because they are a tragic reminder of who we really are:

Women and men as God intended, daughters of Adam, sons of Eve

Children of earth loved by their maker, those only heaven could conceive

Yet in our loving we are not one with heaven’s deep intent. We are not as God meant.

Ours in the shame, ours is the story, ours is the squandered legacy

Fallen from grace, fearful of glory

Lost is our true humanity.

(John Bell)

Letters from War Letters by Andrew Carroll

Rev. Nancy Foran is pastor of the Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine



http://www.rvccme.org/