Living Between

The Rev. Dr. Whitworth Ferguson III

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

April 10, 2011

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Living Between

Luke 12:22-34

“By the rivers of Babylon –

there we sat down and there we wept

when we remembered Zion.

On the willows there we hung up our harps.”

(Psalm 137)

The children of Israel,

men and women, both young and old,

sat on the banks of the Euphrates River

on a sun-drenched afternoon.

It was a glorious setting in a land so rich and vibrant,

and yet the people sang a song of lament:

“There we wept when we remembered Zion.”

They wept because they were far from their home in Zion,

far from the home of their ancestors,

far from the land God had given them through the ancestors.

There in the burnished glow of the afternoon,

the pain of the more than 600 miles that separated them

from their home burned within them, hotter than the sun,

melting their hearts.

They no longer lived freely;

they lived as captives,

captives of the great power of Babylon,

their freedom taken from them just as surely as

that of their ancestors more than a thousand years before,

the children of Israel who had lived in bondage as slaves

under the brutal rule of the Pharaohs of Egypt.

In their dreams at night they could still hear

the thundering hooves of the Babylonian army

as horses, chariots, and soldiers bore down upon them,

destroying, burning, looting, killing.

They’d been offered a stark choice:

stay on the land and die,

or go with them as captives of war.

The years in captivity passed.

Older members of the community died one-by-one;

they died filled with such profound sadness,

as they died in a strange land,

died knowing that they would never rest with their ancestors.

Children were born,

born to the Israelites there in Babylon,

born as foreigners,

children no more rooted than the wind,

with no place to call their home.

Is it any wonder the people sang their laments?

Is it any wonder that the words of their songs

spoke of fading hope;

fading hope that they would ever see the land

that Moses had led their ancestors to,

that had been divided among the 12 tribes,

that had been unified by King David,

that had prospered so magnificently under Solomon.

Even through their tears

they could see where they had gone so wrong,

where their ancestors had begun to stray,

and where they themselves

continued down the same wrong path.

Even as they sang their lament

they understood how, after the death of Solomon,

one king after another led the nation away from the Lord God,

away from the law,

away from obedience,

away from God’s hope for his children.

They understood that their ancestors had

not cultivated a culture of righteousness,

of justice, or mercy, of peace,

but of arrogance,

materialism,

greed, selfishness,

even violence,

their religious practices grounded in such blatant hypocrisy.

In their sadness, in their fading hope,

the men and women who sat there that day

on the banks of the Euphrates

could see how their ancestors had closed their minds to God,

closed their hearts to God,

even as they boasted of their faithfulness.

They could see how they had closed their ears to God’s warnings:

“Ah, sinful nation, people laden with iniquity…

who have forsaken the Lord…

why do you continue to rebel?

Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean,

remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes:

learn to do good;

seek justice, rescue the oppressed,

defend the orphan,

plead for the widow.”          

(Isaiah 1)

Now in the deepening shadow of their fading hope

they could see how they had failed to plead for the widow,

how they had failed to rescue the oppressed,

how they had failed to defend the orphan,

how they had failed to seek justice,

how they had failed to raise the lowly

because their only concern was with raising themselves.

“Do justice, walk humbly,”

came the word of the Lord.

But the people failed to do justice,

as they walked proudly, arrogantly,

never humbly.

Decade after decade, God spoke through

one prophet after another,

words of warning, words of pleading,

their voices ranging from a soft whisper,

to angry impassioned shouts.

But their words had no effect, no impact.

And so it happened: God gave up hope.

God gave up hope

that his children would ever pay attention;

God gave up hope

that anyone would listen to his prophets.

And it came, a lament from God,

a lament so mournful as God grieved:

“I remember the devotion of your youth,

your love as a bride,

how you followed me in the wilderness in a land not sown. ..

I brought you into a plentiful land

to eat its fruits and its good things,

But when you entered, you defiled my land,

and made my heritage an abomination….

My people have forsaken me….”

(Jeremiah 2:1ff)

God gave up hope in the leaders,

gave up hope in the priests,

gave up hope in the people,

and a cold wind blew through the land

as God spoke a different word through his prophet:

“I will turn my hand against you;

you shall be like an oak whose leaf withers,

like a garden without water…

The haughty eyes of people shall be brought low,

and the pride of everyone shall be humbled.”

(Isaiah 2)

And then, more than 400 years after the glory of King David,

almost 600 years before the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ,

the Lord God opened the borders of the Israel

to the fearsome Babylonian army,

and down they came, destroying, killing,

savaging everything in their path,

and taking the people into captivity.

Is it any wonder that the men and women of Israel

sang a song of lament?

And it wasn’t just a song of sadness at the fact of their captivity;

their lament was also over their own responsibility,

how faithless they had been.

But God’s love for his children is unwavering.

God’s mercy and forgiveness always prevails.

In God there is always hope.

And sure enough, God spoke words of hope

through yet another prophet:

“Your punishment will come to an end.

You will be restored to the land,

the land I gave you, the land of your ancestors.

…Old men and old women shall again 
sit in the streets of Jerusalem,

each with staff in hand because of their great age.

And the streets of the city

shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.                           

Even though it seems impossible 
to the remnant of this people

… should it also seem impossible to me, 
the Lord of hosts?

I will save my people …

and I will bring them to live in Jerusalem.

They shall be my people

and I will be their God, in faithfulness and in righteousness.

And … there shall be a sowing of peace;

the vine shall yield its fruit,

the ground shall give its produce,

and the skies shall give their dew”

(Zechariah 8)

A song of lament turned to a song of hope,

for this is what God wants for us:

to live in hope,

live in hope grounded in faith.

                 

But we cannot hope to live in hope

if we don’t live fully in God.

If we live in arrogance,

live in greed,

live in self-centeredness,

self-righteousness,

lives consumed by technology, ideology,

anything but doxology,

we will not know God,

will know God fully and completely,

we won’t be whole, but only part,

a shadow of what God created us to be,

what God hopes we will be.

Knowing God fully is to live

a Sermon on the Mount life

working for peace, for justice,

living with more concern for others than for ourselves.

Eugene Peterson helps us to understand the life we are called to

in his paraphrasing of the Bible in The Message.

Listen to how Peterson puts our lesson

in such compelling language.

Our Lord is speaking to us, each of us:

"Don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes

or if the clothes in your closet are in fashion.

There is far more to your inner life

than the food you put in your stomach,

more to your outer appearance

than the clothes you hang on your body.

Look at the ravens, free and unfettered,

not tied down to a job description,

carefree in the care of God.

 And you count far more.

Has anyone by fussing before the mirror

ever gotten taller by so much as an inch?

If fussing can't even do that, why fuss at all?

Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers.

They don't fuss with their appearance—

but have you ever seen color and design quite like it?

The ten best-dressed men and women in the country

look shabby alongside them.

If God gives such attention to the wildflowers,

most of them never even seen,

don't you think he'll attend to you,

take pride in you,

do his best for you?

What I'm trying to do here is get you to relax,

not be so preoccupied with getting

so you can respond to God's giving.

People who don't know God and the way he works

fuss over these things,

but you know both God and how he works.

Steep yourself in God-reality,

God-initiative,

God-provisions.

You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Don't be afraid of missing out.

You're my dearest friends!

The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.

So, be generous. Give to the poor.

Get yourselves a bank that can't go bankrupt,

a bank in heaven far from bankrobbers,

safe from embezzlers, a bank you can bank on.

It's obvious, isn't it?

The place where your treasure is, is

the place you will most want to be,

and end up being.”

Know God: steep yourself in God-reality,

Know God, steep yourself in God initiative.

Stop fussing.

Stop worrying.

Stop living between fear and hope.

Focus more on God’s giving than your getting.

Set your heart and mind on where true treasure lies.

This the life Jesus calls us to,

the road on which we were set in our baptisms.

Live this way, and you’ll know

what it means to live in hope,

for you will live more fully in God,

more completely in God.

Live more fully in God,

steep yourself in God reality

and you will find a wholeness,

a completeness,

the peace that is shalom,

that peace which surpasses our understanding,

for it is a peace that is more than 
just a brief moment of tranquility,

a brief period of calm;

it is a feeling, a filling of assurance,

grounded in hope

built on a foundation of faith.

The lesson the children of Israel learned so long ago

as they lived in captivity is that in God,

and for us, in Christ,
is that we need not live between fear and hope

for we always know hope.

And the more fully we live in God,

the more completely we live with Christ,

the more we will know hope.

                                                              

“Now may the God of hope

fill you with all joy and peace in believing

that you may abound in hope,

in the power of the Holy Spirit.”

(Romans 15:13)

This is the word of the Lord.

AMEN