Tag: Hebrews

Things Unseen

Protesters Demonstrate In Philadelphia During The Democratic National Convention

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Luke 12:32-40

Our election this season is one of fear. Fear, feelings of persecution, feelings of unheard, feeling misunderstood, feeling marginalized, feeling belittled, feeling silenced. Fear leads it all. Followed by anger, and hate, and more fear.

Our African American citizens fear the cops. The cops fear the African Americans. On edge, the two confront one another – and far too often someone is misunderstood, marginalized, and forever silenced. Fear of authority; fear of the other; these fears fuel terrors into our election.

Sexual fear drives us. Fear of loved ones being abused; fear of being killed for whom one loves; fear of sex and bodies and passions themselves. A rhetoric of hate comes out of these fears and spews from the mouths of politicians and Christians alike. There is no attempt to overcome the fear – just destroy anyone or anything that reminds us of the fear.

And so: education on sexual health is banned from schools, access to sexual health services are denied, protection for gays and lesbians is denied, and transgendered adults and even children are murdered. All of this coming from fear of our own bodies.

And this fear drives our votes, too.

Insecurity is a major fear among us right now. There is the insecurity of being a white, high school educated, man. At one time – that’s all you needed to be to be very successful in America. But now – women and non-whites compete for the same jobs. This means college is often needed to stand out. It means when once being born a straight white man was ticket to wealth is no longer the truth. And that insecurity, that feeling of being less-than, drives our election.

When you are accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression. Just as Jesus said: the low will be raised and the high lowered, so all are equal. But this feels like oppression to those who once were high. And that makes them feel fear, insecurity, and hate.

The fear inside insecurity is what makes us speak of a wall between ourselves and Mexico. Speak of bombing other countries. Speak of banning whole religions, whole regions, from ever visiting family or friends here. Fear drives us to isolate ourselves, and inside our little bubble… we forget that we fear a very small minority… and the majority of the world’s people are just like you and I. But because of a few, we fear them all.

The very early church knew much fear, too. They had once been privileged: Hebrews, Jews, people of not great but not bad standing. Middle class, per se. And now… as soon as they began this Christ business… they were banned from places of worship. The cops always thought they were up to no good. Some people said they were planning a rebellion and so abused, terrorized, murdered Christians. Some people hid their belief in Christ for their, or their family’s safety. Some people were more open. But all together… they knew fear.

What would they do with it? Isolate themselves and stop living out their faith? Would they pretend to be secular, or follow Zeus or Caesar, in public?

Would fear drive them to make strict rules about who could, or couldn’t, enter their congregations? We now have a rule that only those with a Christian parent may enter the sanctuary. We now have a rule that only those who haven’t sinned in the last week. Now only straight people. Now only Americans. Now only white straight Americans whose parents were born here and none of them have ever ran into the law or defaulted on bank loans or crossed the street without looking both ways.

How ridiculous do we want the rules to get to make us feel safer? Will they help?

No.

There’s always more to fear… because each of us have a little portion in us that fears even the very things we do. What if someone else finds out? Will they still accept me? How long until I’m kicked out?

A cycle of fear is a cycle that works like setting a pot of water on a hot stove. A little bubble, a little fear, leads the water of people to a rolling boil, roiling fear; leads to fear flowing over the edges of the pot and eventually – no water, no people, are left in the pot at all. Everyone is gone. Fled. Hiding. And there is no more church.

Paul, when he writes the Hebrews, addresses their fears. Jesus, when he talks to his disciples, addresses their fears. The Bible tells us not to fear more than any other phrase! Do not fear, I am with you. Do not fear, I am your God. Do not be afraid, you are loved. Do not be afraid, I bring you good news. I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.

To the early Hebrew church, Paul reminds them that we aren’t walking by this world’s standards, and this world’s answers to fear are not God’s answers. He reminds them, and us, that we walk by faith, we are convinced of things not seen, and we do not have to be ashamed of this faith and assurance in things that we cannot see at all.

For instance, I turn on the news, and I don’t see love. But I have faith in it. I trust is exists even through I don’t see it. My hope and my promise is in God, who is love, and who says love conquers all things.

I see people using our faith as a weapon, and committing religious violence, acts of terrorism, against others in the name of God. I see this – I see the hate and fear – but I trust what I don’t see.

I trust the unreported, unremarked upon woman who drops pennies and quarters into the charity jars and donates her time to volunteer work.

I have faith and believe in the man never interviewed by the news and never praised by politicians; this man who stops to help change a flat tire and who lets people ahead of him in line.

I don’t see it, but I believe in the children who stand up for one another against bullies. I trust in the children who make ‘get well soon’ cards for teachers and bus drivers.

My eyes don’t tell me, but my heart tells me, to believe in the teenager girl who struggles with so many issues, so much daily fear and misunderstanding – and yet, not to participate in hate speech at work.

I have faith in the unseen. I trust in the hope of God. I trust in what the world ignores. I know we are sojourners, travelers, in a strange land. This land would have us believe that everyone is selfish, evil, and out to harm us. I know there’s a lot to fear, I have been scared… but I also trust in the promises of God.

As Paul writes, Abraham and Sarah never saw their descendants be more than the stars… they died without seeing the full promise come to fruition. Yet they had faith, and what God promised came to pass.

Isaac and Jacob too. They died without the full promise occurring… but their faith led to the next generation, and generation by generation, God worked and fulfilled the promise.

Do not fear, little flock, do not fear.

We walk by faith – not fear, not hate. We walk together – not isolated, not cut off from the world. We walk with God – and because we walk with God, we do not have to fear any evil.

You and I will likely die without seeing God’s full reign on Earth as it is in Heaven. We’ll likely die without Christ having yet returning in full glory. And yet, we can pass on this faith and trust for we know… as Jesus told us, it is God’s delight to gift us the kin-dom. It is God’s good pleasure to work with us to make the promises of peace on earth a reality.

Amen.

What I see…

cygnusTo be published in the Towne Crier, Aug 2016.

Hebrews 11:1-3 NRSV
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.

Every fall, I go out and really watch the stars. I lie on my back and watch long enough to see the Cygnus constellation rise and fall; and I get lost in the wonder of the universe. I lie there and think: this sky is made of molecules which I can’t see, but which I breathe. And a single molecule is one-billionth to one ten-billionth of a meter, impossible to see without some kind of magnification. Those molecules break into atoms which break into a nucleus and electrons, down to protons and neutrons, and further still into quarks- the smallest things we can measure right now. When I watch the night sky I see the great huge universe, and what I see is made of far, far more of which I can’t see.

In Hebrews, I don’t think Paul had molecules and atoms in mind when he wrote about a universe made of invisible things. Paul was writing of other invisible things God joins together to make up the universe. Things like the relationships that bind us: one quirky friend to another; and friends join as lovers to make nuclear families and households; and households gather to make atom-like communities; who make the molecules we call churches, and these tiny pieces together make the Body of Christ.

I can’t see or measure the great scale of the universe; nor the Body of Christ. But I am convinced the invisible hand of God is active on all scales big and small.

Entering Holy Space

Hebrews 10:11-25
Mark 13:1-8

Not a stone will be left on top of another.

Our buildings provide no security. Our buildings will not save. We saw this with the September 11th terrorist attacks. Buildings, which we thought immovable, crumbled to the ground. Planes we thought ever secure turned into weapons. Places we thought lasting… ended.

And our lives, our reality, was never the same.

Buildings do not save us.

So we cling to our institutions.

Institutions, structural ways of doing things — the government and the police, the firemen and women, nurses and doctors — rules and laws! – the rules that say who is a combatant and who is a civilian… our communities, our churches…

But institutions do not save us.

Civilians watched the marathon in Boston. Civilians were ripped to shreds. Civilians attend our movie theatres and civilians are shot, in the dark, unarmed.

The institution of our military is no more of a guarantee of security. This year we have seen soldiers shooting soldiers at base. We have seen civilians trying to encourage the enemy to murder our soldiers by posting the soldier’s own home addresses online… go and murder their wives, their sons, their husbands, their daughters.

Race crimes, religious hate crimes, sneak into our churches and shoot pastors – shoot them while they minister and preach. Shoot parishioners as they come and go. Set bombs in churches and murder little girls as they go to Sunday School just because they happen to have black skin.

No. Institutions do not save us.

Do we have any security at all?

Are we in the End Times?

I mean, are we?

Two nights ago, I watched the development in Paris with a group of friends. We tweeted and IM’d international friends. And for a moment, a miscommunication told us that suicide bombers were also attacking in Germany. I don’t know who said it, but I heard, “My God, we are next!”

Fear fell over the room and settled in my stomach. This wasn’t something happening ‘over there’ somewhere far away, this wasn’t any threat to me… this might be happening somewhere in America… what if it happened at midnight here, too?

A fear I hadn’t felt in… fourteen years… made my dinner sour.

I had forgotten that feeling.

I am ashamed to admit it, but I had. I am ashamed because I know that fear of ‘am I next?’ ‘where is safe?’ ‘where are my loved ones?’ ‘are they safe?’ is known daily in the countries many of these terrorists come from. For the refugees fleeing these counties in the Middle East, and Africa, are fleeing terrorists.

Just like you and me, they want their children to be fine. They want to be able to go to work, go out to eat, go see a movie and not worry someone is going to murder them randomly, just because they are standing there. Murder them regardless of their ethnicity, their religion, their citizenship, their institutions, or who they are… who they are leaving behind… what good or evil they have done… just purely random acts of utterly evil violence.

… And we’re causing some of this fear ourselves.

Dear God, forgive us! Forgive Americans. Our drones are not as accurate as we’d like to think, and our targets are not as well chosen. We Americans are terrorists too — in the effort to protect ourselves, we have murdered Middle Eastern people who are ‘too tall’ and so might choose to join the military, or who were related to someone we thought might harm us, or who had the misfortune of standing beside a school that secretly was a hide out of extremist fighters.

Fear, counter fear, secret attack and revenge secret attack, and caught between the warring nations are moms and dads, babies, grandma and grandpa… who all want the same thing: a peaceful, happy life.

I ask again, is this the end times? Is the apocalypse nigh?

As if the failure of our security systems, our buildings and governments, checkpoints and vigilance, wasn’t enough… as if the terrorists were not enough… the Cold War is returning, bit by bit… you may have seen how Russia is now showing their nuclear arms and warning America. You may have seen how America is testing missiles off the West Coast.

We have wars, rumors of war, nations rising and falling… Jesus also warned us of natural disasters.

Global climate change is so very real – the climate, all over the world, is changing. Our west, they are in a drought that seems to have no end. Around here, we’ve had such cold winters and hot summers — all over, when it rains, it rains harder and floods…

The sea has rose eight inches in the last one hundred years, which may not seem like much… until you look at a place like Vienna, or Florida, and realize these very flat places are slowly sinking into the ocean… and we have 8 less inches of drinkable ground water all over because the ocean is sneaking in. This week, with the glacier in Iceland sliding, we have no idea how many more inches we’ll gain this and next year– not in hundred of years — but in months…

And for the 30th year in a row, world Co2 levels, the chemical that works like a wool blanket over the earth, has grown. With each day, each minute, this thick blanket gets thicker… how thick can it get before we cannot breathe?

In places in the Middle East and India, it is already too thick… and temperatures there rose this summer to the level that the roads literally melted.

What can grow, what can survive, in 140 degree heat?

Are the end times here?

Jesus’ disciples wanted to know the same thing. The author of Hebrews was writing to the early Christians, who wanted to know the same thing. Look, look at how horrible things are — surely they cannot get worse! Surely these are portents, these are signs from God, these are telling us to prepare and get ready.

The audience of these old texts saw horrible things happening. Think: their country had been invaded, and their leadership replaced with pawns from the occupier. Their holiest place, the Holy of Holies, had been desecrated twice now… and by the time of Hebrews, it was desecrated a third and final time… the temple, the only place to go and worship God, to be in the presence of God who lived behind the veil which the most holy high priest approached only once a year — on the day of Atonement for the nation’s sins — that most sacred spot was destroyed. The priests murdered. The area used to make offerings to other gods. A statue of Caesar was scheduled to be erected there for the people to worship.

Because of their faith, or their rumored faith, or the supposed faith of their third cousin – people were being dragged out and murdered.

A Roman citizenship was the difference between instant death without a trial – as in the case of most of Jesus’ disciples – and death with at least a hearing… as in the case of Paul.

When the readers of Hebrews secretly gathered, illegally gathered, to speak about Jesus… they took their lives and the lives of their loved ones in hand.

And they retold the words of Jesus, “Do not be alarmed.” And they recited the words of Psalm 46, “Be still, and know I am God.” And they read pastoral letters, like the letter to the Hebrew Congregation which reads, (to paraphrase The Message) “Let’s keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going. God always keeps God’s word. Let’s see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping each other out, let’s keep worshiping together and not give up, especially as we see the big Day approaching.”

Instead of asking, “Is this the end?” and losing hope… the early Christians looked how to preach the gospel, and be the good news, and give their lives for God. They knew the covenant, the mutual promise, between them and God was wrote on their hearts.

And that covenant is God’s love for us, and our love for God.

As things got worse and worse, instead of hoarding up ammo and turning away strangers — lest they be spies, the enemy, or another bothersome mouth to feed — these Christians kept meeting together. Kept at their faith.

When Jesus’ disciples ask when the Temple would fall, Jesus didn’t answer. He didn’t give them a sign. Instead, he told them — you’ll frequently think this is it — the end is near. But it won’t be.

There will be wars.

There will be natural disasters.

There will be false prophets.

But this won’t be the end.

In fact, Jesus never tells them WHEN the end will be. He tells us his return will be like a thief in the night — something we never see coming. If we knew the thief was coming, we would have been home with some friends to scare him off. But we don’t know, and we cannot know. Jesus tells us that God alone knows. Not even angels. Not even those who have passed on before us. Only God knows.

For centuries, millennia, this has proved true. So many people believed the Black Death was the End Times. WWI was called the War to End All Wars — as in, after this, Christ’s peace would rule the world. With the A-Bomb, and the Doomsday Clock, we saw our end looking us in the face. We see this now — see how fragile our existence is. See how very mortal we are. See how nothing we build, nothing we create, nothing on this earth can fully protect and save us.

And Jesus’ advice for these centuries, these millennia, is to let God worry about when the end is. Our job is to encourage one another. To love one another. To forgive each other. To do loving deeds.

Be still… and know… I am God.

Be still… and trust… I am God.

Be loving… and do not be afraid… I am God.

Did you know the Bible says “do not be afraid” in some form or another more than any other phrase? Some count 365 times, others count 103. Followed by Jesus telling us 125 times in four books — just the Gospels — to love others.

Whether or not it is the End Times is not for us to know. We can’t know. If history is a teacher, this year is no more likely the end than 1346 when the Black Death swept Europe. It is no more likely the end than 2220 will be… but we can’t and we don’t know.

Our God tells us not to be alarmed, not to be scared, not to be thinking of all the possible ‘what ifs’ and to hide, to avoid others, to be scared of the stranger, to be scared of what tomorrow will bring…

No… our God says love me, and love each other.

Love carries us through… for God is love.

Let us end in the prayer of David in Psalm 56:

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise—
in God I trust and am not afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me?

My brothers and sisters, what can a mere mortal do to us? We live IN holy space, we live in Jesus Christ.

Given to Saint Michael’s UCC, Baltimore, Ohio, 11-15-2015

Possessed!

Hebrews 4:12-16

Mark 10:17-31

Have you heard George Carlin’s act “A place for my stuff?”

It goes a bit like this:

I would have been out here a little bit sooner…
…but they gave me the wrong dressing room…
…and I couldn’t find any place to put my stuff.
And I don’t know how you are…
…but I need a place to put my stuff.
So, that’s what I’ve been doing back there…
…just trying to find a place for my stuff.
You know how important that is, that’s the whole…
…that’s the whole meaning of life, isn’t it?
Trying to find a place for your stuff.
That’s all your house is…
…your house is just a place for your stuff.
If you didn’t have so much […] stuff…
…you wouldn’t need a house.
You could just walk around all the time.
That’s all your house is, it’s a pile of stuff…
…with a cover on it.
You see that when you take off in an airplane and you look down…
…and you see everybody’s got a little pile of stuff.
Everybody’s got their own pile of stuff.

And when you leave your stuff, you gotta lock it up.
Wouldn’t want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff.
They always take the good stuff.
They don’t bother with that […] you’re saving.
Ain’t nobody interested in your fourth grade arithmetic papers.
They’re looking for the good stuff.

That’s all your house is, it’s a place to keep your stuff…
…while you go out and get more stuff.
Now, sometimes, sometimes you gotta move…
…you gotta get a bigger house.
Why? Too much stuff.
You’ve gotta move all your stuff…
…and maybe put some of your stuff in storage.
Imagine that, there’s a whole industry based on keeping…
…an eye on your stuff.

[…]

Now, now, sometimes you go on vacation…
…you gotta bring some of your stuff with you.
You can’t bring all your stuff, just the stuff you really like…
…the stuff that fits you well that month.
Let’s say you’re gonna go to Honolulu…
…you’re gonna go all the way to Honolulu you gotta…
…take two big bags of stuff…
…plus your carry on stuff, plus the stuff in your pockets.
You get all the way to Honolulu and you get in your hotel room…
…and you start to put away your stuff…
…that’s the first thing you do in a hotel room…
…is put away your stuff.
Now I’ll put some stuff in here, put some stuff down there…
…here’s another place some stuff here…
…I’ll put some stuff overthere.
You put your stuff overthere, I’m putting my stuff over here.
Here’s another place for some stuff.
Hey, we got more places than we’ve got stuff.
We’re gonna have to buy more stuff.

And you put all your stuff away, and you know that you’re…
…thousands of miles from home, and you don’t quite feel…
…at ease, but you know that you must be okay because you do have…
…some of your stuff with you.
And you relax in Honolulu on that basis.

That’s when your friend from Maui calls and says “Hey…
…why don’t you come overto Maui forthe weekend…
…spend a couple of nights over here?”
[…]
Now what stuff do you bring?
Right, you’ve gotta bring an even smaller version…
…of your stuff…
…just enough stuff for a weekend on Maui.
And you get over, and you are really spread out now…
…you’ve got [stuff] all over the world.
You’ve got stuff at home, stuff in storage, stuff in Honolulu…
…stuff in Maui, stuff in your pockets…
…supply lines are getting longer and harder to maintain.
But you get over to your friend’s house in Maui…
…and they give you a little place to sleep…
…and there’s a little window ledge…
…or some kind of a small shelf…
…and there’s not much room on it but it’s okay…
…’cause you don’t have much stuff now.
And you put what stuff you do have up there…
…you put your imported French toenail clippers…
…your odor eaters with the 45 day guarantee…
…your cinnamon flavored dental floss…
…and your Afrin 12 hour decongestant nasal spray.
And you know you’re a long way from home…
…you know that you must be okay because you do have…
…your Afrin 12 hour decongestant nasal spray.
And you relax in Maui on that basis.
That’s when your friend says…
…hey, I think tonight we’ll go to the other side of the island…
…stay at my friend’s house overnight.
[…]
Now what do you bring?
Now you just bring the things you know you’re gonna need…
…money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hankie, pens… […]
Think of Carlin’s words — “that’s the whole meaning of life, isn’t it? Trying to find a place for your stuff.”

Protecting it from rain and weather.

Guarding it from robbers.

Paying others to guard your items.

And accumulating more and more stuff all around the world, and then finding a place for it.

Carlin is so extremely funny because he speaks truth to us in a way we hadn’t heard it before. We’ve heard Jesus’ message about stuff too often for it to really hit home – so Carlin repeats it in a new way. But it’s the same old story!

Who is possessing whom? Do you have possessions or are you possessed?

The young man who comes to Jesus is a good young man. He’s following the Torah very diligently. He comes to Jesus not to catch Jesus in a word trap, like so many others, nor to ask for a healing – no, he wants to know, how can he inherit eternal life?

Jesus tells him to follow the commandments of God. The young man says he already is doing so.

“Jesus looked at him, LOVED him, and said ‘You lack one thing… sell what you own and follow me.'”

And the poor man goes away in grief. In sorrow and agony “because he had many possessions.”

We always assume the man doesn’t sell everything and follow Jesus because he leaves in sorrow. But the text doesn’t say that. Perhaps the man left in grief and sorrow because he HAD SO MUCH STUFF! So much to sell, to organize, so much to say goodbye to… but maybe, someday, he did get released from his possessions and followed Christ.

I am guilty of being possessed by possessions. Some of them I’m holding on to because you know, I might need that some day or I think I’ll get around to fixing them. It’s half a can of paint, but you know, the moment I donate it to the ReStore, to Habitat for Humanity, is the day I’m going to need just a little dab of paint. And yeah, I have two sweepers – the old one just needs a new belt rotor. I’ll fix it some day. It’s only been broke… for four years. So there it is, in my closet.

Other things I’m holding on to because they are fond memories or are just cool. I’ve got my kindergarten coloring book and I smile when I see it. It means nothing to everyone but me. It’s marks on big bold pages from some kid. But to me, it’s days sitting at my aunt’s house and great-grandma’s. There’s also a stack of wedding invitations from all my friends who have gotten married.

And the cool things — like this magnifier glass that folds into a leather case — but I digress. I hold on to all of this. I move it, from this apartment to that, and now to a home. I haven’t used any of these in years — almost decades — and yet they stay on.

Stuff.

I think, I feel like if I get rid of the stuff, I also get rid of the memory.

It’s like, I don’t want to throw away my key to those memories by throwing away the invite or the book. So I carry them on. I don’t want to forget Katie’s wedding or lunch at Great-Grandma’s. I don’t want to lose that special feeling I have when I think about those times.

And yet — here, I just recalled to you those memories without the items physically in my hand. I can access those memories without a physical key. I don’t need the old coloring book or wedding invite to remember, to feel the emotions, to smile…

… If Jesus had told me to sell all I own, give the money to the poor, and follow him… I would go away grieving too. Even if I eventually did just that – it would feel like Jesus had asked me to give up all my memories.

… and that is not at all what Christ is asking.

Christ is asking that we own possessions, rather than being owned by them.

Asking that we hold on to our items with lose hands, so that we share what we have easily and quickly.

Asking us to not be the person in Carlin’s skit who feels stretched thin with stuff all over, but to be a disciple of Christ who owns only what they can possess and use… nothing that possesses them and uses them.

If I donate my paint to Habitat and find I need a dabble, I bet one of my neighbors has some I can borrow. I can rely on my community. If I asked my community, I bet someone even has the part for the sweeper or wants mine for parts.

Jesus comes preaching freedom to the captives. He preached freedom to this captive rich young man — freedom from stuff — but the freedom price was so heavy. It was the weight of houses and storage units, stuffed garages and boxes. And fear.

Jesus especially preaches freedom to the richest nations, such as ourselves. Freedom from bigger houses and places to store stuff, freedom from going into debt for more stuff and more places to put stuff, freedom from fretting over what stuff to buy this upcoming Christmas season. We have more than we ever will need already.

We have but to hold on to our stuff more loosely.

And to not fear letting go.

To trust.

To follow.

Jesus speaks to us in this rich nation specifically today. “How hard it is for Americans to enter the kingdom of God! It’s as hard as driving a F150 through the eye of a needle. Impossible – but for the grace of God.”

And why us specifically? Because the more stuff you have, the richer you are, the harder it is to share. The harder it is to let go. The harder it is to freely follow Jesus rather than to be labored with, burdened with, caring for, organizing, working to afford, and housing stuff.

Stuff is stuff, I think Jesus would say. Stuff doesn’t matter.

People do.

Don’t ignore people for stuff.

For the kindom of God is made out of people… not forks and spoons, houses and cars, clothes and books. The kindom is people.

All this stuff you’ll leave behind. What you take is what’s in you. Memories. Relationships. Loves. Invest in those, not more stuff.

Amen.

Given to Saint Michael’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, Ohio 10-11-15

Who Are We?

Psalm 8

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12

Our Psalmist asks — who are we that God would care for us?

James Taylor paraphrased our Psalm today into common English. He wrote,

“My God, my God,
how wonderful you are!
There is nothing like you in the whole earth.

I look up to the skies, and I see you there;
Babies and infants open their mouths,
and I hear them cry your name.
Compared to you, our weapons, our bombs,
our power to destroy,
dwindle into insignificance.
On a starry night, with your glory splashed across the skies,
I gaze into your infinite universe, and I wonder:
Who am I?
Why do I matter?
Why do you care about mere mortals?

We humans are less than specks of dust in your universe.
We have existed less than a second in the great clock of creation.
Yet you choose us as your partners.
You share the secrets of the universe with us;
you give us a special place in your household;
you trust us to look after the earth, on your behalf—
not just the sheep and oxen,
but also the wolves that prey on our domestic animals;
the birds, the plants, and even creatures we have never seen
in the depths of the sea.

My God, my God! How amazing you are.”

Sometimes, I wonder the same things the Psalmist and Taylor do –

Who am I?
Why do I matter?
Why do you, God, care about mere mortals?

If we’re raised thinking humans are de facto rulers over the earth, this question doesn’t really bother us. Who are we? We’re humans – that’s what! Rulers. We have dominion.
But if you stop and think about it… like the author of Hebrews does… we humans don’t actually have dominion over the earth.

Hurricanes ruin our homes and take lives.

Floods take our crops and homes and lives.

Wild fires, tornadoes, bitterly cold winters — even the melting ice caps — we influence a lot, but actually having dominion? Actually having full control?

No. We’re powerful, but not all powerful in the least.

None of us can stop the sun from rising or death from coming. We are mortal.

Our mortality really strikes home when I look at a time-line of the Earth. If earth was a 24 hour day, life began here around 4 in the morning. It’s not until 2 in the afternoon cells develop. Seaweed shows up around 8:30, land plants at 9:52. Dinosaurs begin to roam the Earth around 10:56 pm. Mammals around 11:39. The very last minute and a half — 11:58:43– humans appear. My own life of 28 years is .0000268 seconds on this 24 hour clock. Over ten thousand times than a blink of an eye which is .3 of a second. On this scale, even the pyramids are young. Stonehenge was made a blink ago. One blink ago people learned how to grow crops for the very first time and to make pots out of clay.

We humans, on the scale of this earth, are mere hundreds of seconds. Dinosaurs are minutes. God spent hours and hours on rocks! Hours and hours on making the moon! We… aren’t even a blink yet.

… and our planet it young. Our planet isn’t a blink to the universe.

… Who are we, that God — God who has spent more time than we can wrap our heads around on ROCKS — on planets we’ll never see and stars that were born, lived, and died before life even existed on earth — who are we that we matter to God who created all of this?!

How can the Psalmist say we’re in control of all of this?

The authors of Hebrew is looking at the world about 60 years after Jesus died. He sees a world much like our own – waiting on Jesus’ return, continue on as it always has, bad stuff still happening, people still sinning, and a whole lot of stuff outside of human control. We cannot even control the results of our actions! How often has a good intention caused really bad consequences?

Yet our psalm says God made us in charge of all of this; and in Genesis we’re told we’re stewards of the Earth… but the author of Hebrews argues we clearly aren’t in charge. There’s so, so much that happens we’d rather not happens. I mean, if I were in charge, there’d be no more cancer, there’d be peace among all the nations, and no one would have too much or too little.

So the Hebrews author argues the mortal who was made lower than the angels for a little while who will be in full charge in the future is Jesus. Clearly he was mortal, argues the author of Hebrews, for Jesus suffered and died. People are still alive – very elderly at this point – but when Timothy or whoever writes this, there are still people alive who remember Jesus dying. They were kids then, but they remember.

So Jesus was mortal. Yet clearly he was also more than mortal, since Jesus is the reflection of God’s glory, and a exact imprint of who God is, and sustains us with his powerful word.

Why a mortal? Why not send Jesus as an angel, or a spirit? Why a lowly mortal? Who are we that God would have God’s own spirit and image in our tiny little fragile frame?

Neither author in today’s reading – the author of Hebrews or the Psalmist—answers why us. Instead, they end in praise that we are the children of God. We never earned this, but we can respond to it.

We don’t have full control over all of the world. We do not yet see the master plan, the reason God notices and made we tiny, tiny humans.

What we do see is Jesus.

And in Jesus, we see God.

And we see that God made all things, sustains all things, and loves all things.

We see we all have one creator, one parent, one source whom we all come from.

The rocks and trees, the fish and birds, the distant galaxies and stars and moon — even the angels and our beloved Jesus… we all have one Father.

Or mother, or parent, or grandmother, or grandfather, or whatever human term you use to think of the one who loves you the most like a parent loves a child: a perfect love, a deep love, a love that only God contains but which we try to explain in human terms.

How limited we are to explain our encounter with God. We are babes. Infants. And yet, God listens. Listens and loves.

How befitting is this passage on World Communion Sunday. Today we affirm we share a single faith with Christians everywhere. Those who have passed, and those who are yet to be, those who are here and those who are scattered about the world.

We all have one sacrament. We are a community. We commune together. We all have one God we know through Jesus. We all share one Holy Spirit. Let us come in humbleness, in joy, in great worship and love to this holy meal with our God, our Sovereign, and our brother Jesus, and all our brothers and sisters around the world. Amen.

Given to St. Michael’s United Church of Christ 10-4-15