Wednesday, October 24, 2018

God's Response to Job

Based on Job 38:1-7, 34-41
First delivered Oct. 21, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            You have heard this story before. A famous person, a superstar athlete, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, gets pulled over by the police for some moving violation. As the officer explains what the driver did wrong and starts writing up a ticket the driver says, “Hey, don’t you know who I am?” They say that with the implication that the law doesn’t really apply to them, or they deserve a break. It’s a power move to avoid being held accountable for their actions. I doubt if such a move works that often. But it doesn’t hurt to try I suppose.

            I thought about these situations when a person with power tries to avoid answering for their actions when reading God’s response to Job’s long and anguished demand to be heard. Job wants God to answer for Godself, to be held accountable for the unjust suffering that Job has endured. As I read God’s response, I could almost hear God basically saying to Job, “Don’t you know who I am!?” God doesn’t try to justify what happened to Job. Instead, God goes on about how powerful and full of understanding God is in comparison to Job. God doesn’t deserve to be held accountable by anyone, especially Job. Who does Job think he is? Doesn’t he know who God is? At least, that’s an impression I got when reading through the passage we have before us today.

            Then, look at how God’s response starts, when God says, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” In other words, God tells Job, “You don’t know what you are talking about.” It reminds me of what Job said to his wife after she said the only two sentences she gets in the whole book. She said, “Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God and die.” But Job responds by saying, “You speak as any foolish woman would speak.” In other words, “You don’t know what you are talking about.” This time it’s Job who is being called a fool. Turnabout is fair play I suppose.

            But let’s look closer at God’s response. As we pay attention to the questions God asks, how God frames God’s response, we may see that God’s intent was not to humiliate Job or make some power move to avoid being held accountable. As I see it, what God is attempting to do is to help Job get a bigger picture of who God is. God is stressing the truth that God relates intimately to all creation. You may remember last week, Job was feeling abandoned by everyone. His three friends were no help. They didn’t understand or sympathize, but accused Job of hiding something. Surely he was being punished for something. His friends were not consolers, but accusers. He was calling out to God but there was no response. He was alone in his suffering and misery. He was wondering, “God, where are you?” Well, God finally responds. And in these questions that God peppers Job with, God asks, “Job, where were you? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?”

            I’m not going to re-read the questions God asks. We only heard a few sections of chapter 38. If you go back and look at the whole chapter, you will see how God’s response to Job delves into great detail about parts of creation, and how creation works, implying that God is behind it all. It was God who laid the foundation of the earth. It was God who determined how big the foundation would be. It was God who sunk the bases of the foundation into whatever is underneath the earth. Remember, we are going off the belief held in those days that the earth was a flat table. It is God that tells the clouds to rain. It is God that causes lightning bolts to fly. It is God who puts wisdom into the mind. It is God that provides food for lions and ravens.

            Through all these rhetorical questions, God is making the point over and over that God intimately knows every aspect of creation. God had a hand in its making. God is present and active in every part of creation. When Job was asking his question, “Where are you, God?” God’s response is, “Everywhere!” But God isn’t just everywhere, observing everything. God is intimately engaged in everything that happens in creation, even when we don’t sense God’s presence or see God’s activity. Just because we don’t sense God’s presence doesn’t mean God isn’t there. And God is influencing every situation. God is not a passive observer but an active participant in the ongoing processes of creation throughout the entire world, indeed, the whole cosmos. This is not a power trip, of God saying, “Don’t you know who I am!?” Instead, this is a detailed account from God of how intimately engaged God is with every aspect of the creation, even to the detail of measuring the foundation, opening the clouds so rain comes down, and making sure baby ravens are fed.

            But there is something unsatisfying about God’s response to Job. Job was wondering where God was because he wanted God to answer the question of “why.” Job wanted to know from God, “Why am I suffering like this? What did I do to deserve this? Why are you doing this to me, God?” In God’s response, God does not answer Job’s “why” questions. In fact, God does what Jesus often did when people asked him a question. He responded by asking them a question. So annoying! What’s with the questions, just give me the answer! Here, God doesn’t answer Job’s questions. God does not justify God’s actions that contributed to Job’s intense suffering. God doesn’t say, “The reason why you are suffering so much is because I wanted to show Satan how pious and holy you are. At least I didn’t allow Satan to kill you.” God does not share with Job the conversation God and Satan had. The reason for Job’s suffering remains a mystery for Job, an unanswered question.

            But God does make it clear that God is not only intimately present to all of creation, but also provides for creation, actively engaged in all the processes of creation, from the making of worlds to the feeding of birds. Nothing is too big or too small for God’s intimate attention. And that includes Job. God knows intimately what Job has experienced. God has sustained Job all this time that Job was railing against God and crying out in lament. God made space and gave Job the capacity to express his anger and despair. God heard every word. And God kept giving Job the breath and the voice and the brainpower he needed to keep speaking those words of anger and despair toward God. God enabled Job to cry out to God. God never made Job shut up. God never took away Job’s voice. And that is grace.

            Job’s lament is justifiable. The indescribable loss and suffering he had to endure is beyond our experience, and for that we can be grateful. Gratitude is what God is trying to remind Job of as God offers the long awaited response. When considering the vastness of God’s creative work, and how God is present and active in all of it, even in our own lives, is something to be grateful for. Sometimes, life is simply brutal. Although not at the same level as Job, we experience times of devastating loss. We are confronted with a terrible illness that sends us to the hospital, and perhaps even prompts us to consider the real possibility of our own death. There are times in our personal life, our family, and in our community and nation, where lament is called for. Our whole nation entered into a time of lament after the attacks on 9/11. But in our collective grief over all that was lost that September day, not only the loss of life but the loss of our sense of security, there was also much that prompted gratitude. People lined up to give blood. Outpourings of support for the emergency workers in New York City gave them a bit of relief. We saw so much of the best of our common humanity in the days and months after. God was in the midst of all of that, prompting, influencing, making possible, all the individual acts of kindness, support, and healing. What we experienced then, Job was being encouraged to do by God, which was to hold together the tension of lament and gratitude; naming the hurt, crying out with sorrow, even rage, but also being grateful: for community, for life, for the rising of the sun and the calming grace of a full moon, the brilliant show of a lightening filled sky, the sparrows flitting around the bird feeder, the bees getting heavy with pollen from the sunflowers, all made possible by God’s hand. The holding together of lament and gratitude: there is wisdom in that.

            Rather than brush Job off as a foolish man, God not only responds to Job but responds in a way that helps Job gain understanding and wisdom about God and how God relates intimately with all of creation, tending and caring for every bit of it, even in times of great loss. God is not absent. God is intimately present. That’s what God is telling Job, without answering Job’s question of “why.” When it came to answering Job’s question, “Why did I have to suffer for no good reason?” God does not answer the question. The mystery of why bad things happen to good people, of why God allows evil and suffering to happen, remains an unsolved mystery. The ancient mystery of theodicy, if God is all powerful and all loving, then why is there evil, is an unsolved mystery in the book of Job. God shifts the focus away from “why” questions and instead focuses on God’s intimate knowledge, loving care, and constant presence in all of creation.

            How does Job respond to God’s response? That’s for next week’s sermon. What is your response? What do you lament today? What are you grateful for? Let’s take a moment and have a conversation with God. We know that God is with us. So in the quiet of your heart, speak to God what you lament today. And then speak to God what you are grateful for today…


Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Alone


Based on Job 23:1-9, 16-17
First delivered Oct. 14, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            Do you all remember the repeated scenario in Peanuts where Charlie Brown and Lucy are outside with a football? Lucy always promises Charlie Brown, “I won’t pull the ball away.” And Charlie Brown trusts her. He runs up to kick the ball and, at the last second, Lucy pulls the ball away anyhow, and Charlie Brown spins through the air and lands on his back side. Every time. And we all know what will happen. We almost want to yell at the newspaper or the screen for Lucy to cut it out. Don’t you wish that just once someone would see what was going on and tell Lucy to stop doing that? But there’s never anyone else around. It’s just Charlie Brown and Lucy. There is no one to intervene. Lucy goes off laughing and Charlie Brown says, “Rats!” Poor Charlie Brown is alone in his experience of injustice. It’s not fair, what Lucy does to Charlie Brown. And there’s no one around to make sure that Charlie Brown gets his fair shot at kicking that ball. Charlie Brown is alone.

            In a few days, the Westerville Police Department will host a community forum, led by The Center for Family Safety and Healing. They will address the topic of domestic violence, a reality that is too common. It is found across the board, regardless of race or class. And cases of domestic violence are underreported. How many people suffer in an abusive relationship and are afraid to speak out or do not know who to reach out to? They are afraid to speak out because of what their abusive partner might do to them. Or there is fear about what others might think. The one being abused doesn’t know who to talk to. If they tell someone who knows them, what if it gets back to their partner? The thought of airing one’s personal life to a stranger also doesn’t feel right. The abused is trapped and alone.

            By the way, there is help. On the door of my office you will find some information about how to respond to domestic violence, if you need help or you know someone who does. You can also go to www.familysafetyandhealing.org. No one who is abused has to suffer alone.

            But they do anyway. They feel trapped and don’t know where to turn. They may even cry out to God for help. They may cry out for justice, or deliverance. But the cries go unheard. There is no discernable response from God. The abuse continues. To be alone in your suffering and not able to turn to anyone who can make things right, or not knowing who you can turn to, that’s a recipe for despair. For too many people in our community, this is their reality.

            Job was alone in his suffering. At least, that’s how he perceived it. Sure, he had his three friends. But they were no consolation. They kept arguing with him that he must have done something very sinful to get the suffering he has. They question Job’s honesty. They are not supportive and understanding. Surely God is with him. God is everywhere, right? But God was nowhere to be found. Job says he looks in every direction but can’t find God. He can’t sense God’s presence. His friends are no support. God is silent. Job is alone.

            There’s no doubt that Job believed in God. Job was incredibly righteous and pious. He knew that God was a just judge. And he made every effort to assure that neither he nor anyone in his family would receive God’s wrath. As Faith pointed out last week; when Job’s kids had drinking parties, Job would offer burnt offerings for each of his kids on the oft chance in their partying they may have done something that would have prompted God to punish them. Central to Job’s belief in God is that God is a righteous judge. God is just. Job is convinced that if he could just state his case before God that God would immediately acquit him from whatever was causing his great suffering. He just wants his day in court, if you will. But he can’t have his day in court because the judge is absent. The One who can easily fix this situation, clear up the misunderstanding, make things right, give Job justice, is missing, hiding, unreachable. And there is nothing Job can do about it. The One who can give him justice is nowhere to be seen.



            What do you do when you experience injustice but the one who can give you remedy is absent? Such a tough position to be in. You just feel impotent. It hurts. You want to cry out, “It’s not fair!” Whether on the school playground, in a street protest, or an argument between a parent and child, we hear the cry, “It’s not fair!” How many of us have told a child who said, “It’s not fair”, and said back, “Life’s not fair.” That’s a true statement. Life isn’t always fair. Justice is not always served. Yes, we have a justice system that strives to be impartial. But the system is made up of people. And we all have blind spots, unperceived prejudices, that skew judgment. All the necessary information to make the right judgment is not always received. It is a tough situation to try to make a right judgment when not all the facts are known, or can be known. When there is no corroborating evidence, judgments have to be made and they may not always be the right one. Sometimes our justice system produces a miscarriage of justice. What do you do when the justice system has failed you? Where do you turn?

            You can say to yourself that God knows what happened and someday you will get your justice. You can have faith that God will make things right. But when will God make things right? Will it be the Judgment Day or will it be while you are still alive? Nobody knows. You can become bitter when you don’t get justice. You can despair about ever getting justice. You may wish to tear the justice system down. You may lose your faith in God. Or you can choose to remain hopeful. You can choose to be resilient, to say to yourself that yes, you have suffered an injustice, and it hurts. But your value is so much greater than any injustice or indignity you must endure. You are still a beloved child of God, no matter what. You are loved. By God’s grace you can endure.

            Job wanted to disappear into the darkness. He just wants to fade away. But since he isn’t fading away, he chooses to keep arguing with his friends and with God. He would not let God off the hook. He knew he was innocent. He knew he didn’t deserve this unjust suffering. He knew that God was just. He would not allow God to just blow him off. He would persist, demand, that God give him a hearing. Job eventually gets to the place where he wants to put God on trial for what he sees as a travesty of justice.

            Like the persistent widow, Job was not going to give up. You remember the story? Jesus told the story of an old woman who demanded justice from the judge. But he would not listen to her plea. So she kept coming, and kept coming, and kept coming, until the judge said to himself, “I can’t take it anymore! I’m going to give this woman justice before she wears me out with her constantly coming to me.” It took a lot of persistence for her to receive her justice. Sometimes persistence is required to get justice. Job has the same mindset. He will persist, demanding justice from God, even if it seemed like he was shouting into the wind. Job refused to give up on God, even though God seemed absent, missing, perhaps hiding. Job may feel alone, but he was not going to give up proclaiming his innocence.

            How little Job knew that it was God who allowed this suffering to happen to Job. God allowed the suffering to happen just to prove Satan wrong. The God Job looked to as the just judge is the one who gave permission to suffer so much, so harshly, so unjustly. God, the righteous and just God, is complicit in Job’s unjust suffering. Surely it is unjust. Surely Job did nothing to deserve this suffering. Surely God could have handled Satan’s accusations in a different way so that Job didn’t have to suffer so much.

            Let me go out on a limb and suggest that it appears that God is complicit in Job’s unjust suffering. I call it unjust because it was allowed by God in order to prove Satan wrong. What are we to do with this? If it happened to Job, could God sometimes be complicit in your own experiences of unjust suffering? Such a question goes against the grain. It’s a question that I don’t want to consider. I don’t know about you, but it is hard for me to contemplate the possibility that God would be complicit in unjust suffering as God appears to be in Job’s situation.

            What kind of God is this? How can a righteous judge, who God is, be complicit in unjust suffering? I wonder how Job would answer that question. I wonder how Job would respond if he found out that all this suffering that Satan afflicted on him was allowed by God just to show Satan how pious Job is, just to win an argument, to prove a point. Knowing Job, I doubt if he would just shrug his shoulders. He would demand an answer to that question. He would want to know why God that that was ok. Job would want to ask, “Is that fair?” But the one who could answer that question…is silent.


Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Blessing Sunday


Based on Psalm 124
First delivered Sept. 30, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            “Our help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” What a great statement of faith. It is a statement of faith that grounds us, comforts us, gives us courage, and hope. This is not the only place where this statement shows up in the scriptures. Just a few psalms before, Psalm 121, we have that beautiful lyric: “I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” What a vivid and strong statement of faith.

            This faith claim is a statement of power. It declares that God is more powerful than any other entity in existence. Surely, the one who made everything is the source of power itself. And so, in comparison of God’s power and the power of the enemies of God’s people, surely God has more power. For Israel, a relatively small people in a larger world with much larger peoples, such as the Assyrians, the Egyptians, the Persians, they saw great nations, with large armies and massive wealth. Then there were the Romans, a whole different level of power and strength. Israel was so small in comparison to these great empires. But it is God who made the heavens and the earth. And Israel belongs to God. So the enemy may be powerful and fierce. But our God is greater in power and strength.

            Psalm 124 is a psalm of deliverance. It starts out by saying that if the Lord had not been on their side when their enemies attacked them then Israel would have been utterly destroyed. They would have been swallowed up as if an earthquake cracked open the earth, or engulfed as if a torrential flood swept them all away. God prevented Israel from being chewed up like a lion’s prey. Israel escaped like a bird breaking free from the fowler’s snare. In their time of need, when their enemies, stoked with anger, bore down on Israel to destroy the people, God intervened and delivered them from sure destruction.

            We don’t know which enemy the psalm is referring to. Some have suggested that this psalm was written after the great exile, the time when the Persians invaded and destroyed Jerusalem, and most of Israel were taken in exile to Babylon. But the exile came to an end. Cyrus, the king of Babylon, allowed Israel to return and rebuild Jerusalem. So maybe this psalm is a way to celebrate collectively how God has delivered them from the Persians. But maybe it wasn’t the Persians. Maybe it was when the Assyrians threatened to destroy Israel. Or it was the Egyptians. Or it was the Romans. In their history, Israel has been overrun a number of times. But eventually, all these foreign powers lost their hold on Israel. At some point, God delivered them.

            So Israel may not have been wiped out like being deluged by a flood, but they did get wet. God did come to their rescue. God was on their side. But that didn’t mean that Israel did not suffer. For most of their existence Israel was an oppressed people. They were often under the thumb of some other foreign power. And this psalm picks up on that history. The psalmist says that they escaped from the fowler’s snare. The snare was broken and they escaped captivity. But they were captive first. The enemy had caught them, bound them, held them against their will. But the fowler’s snare was broken. The power of the foreign enemies was broken. And the psalmist infers that it was God who broke the snare, who broke the chains, that set Israel free from their oppressor. Yes, oppression happens. The oppressor does have its way with the oppressed. But the time will come when God will act, and the oppressor’s chain will be broken, and the oppressed will be set free. For God is on the side of the oppressed.

            What a relief this psalm must express. In spite of the great suffering of Israel’s experience of oppression, they are not destroyed. Over their history, Israel has suffered oppression in ways that most if not all of us here can never understand. We must never forget the Holocaust, the determined attempt to eradicate Jews from the face of the earth. Nevertheless, in spite of all the suffering that Israel has endured over the centuries, Israel still exists. They are not destroyed. God has come to their rescue to prevent their utter destruction. If it wasn’t for God’s intervention time and again, surely Israel would have been destroyed. Yet, Israel exists. God was on the side of Israel. More broadly, God is on the side of the oppressed.

            But I want to take this a step further. This powerful statement of faith, that God is the maker of the heavens and the earth, implies that God cares deeply and loves the heavens and the earth. And if God loves and cares for what God has made, then surely God seeks to protect the heavens and the earth. In other words, God is on the side of the heavens and the earth. So if the heavens and the earth are experiencing oppression, are being attacked, injured, invaded, occupied, in the process of being destroyed…God will intervene because God is on the side of the oppressed.

            Do the heavens and the earth have enemies? Are there any peoples that seek to overwhelm and dominate the heavens and the earth? I think perhaps there are. Maybe intentional or maybe out of ignorance, I believe there are people who oppress the heavens and the earth. Now, I said last week that we can’t do much to the heavens. We can and do pollute the air. But we have no impact on the sun, moon and stars. We are impacted by these entities, but impacted in ways that help us thrive. Our life depends on the sun. The beauty of the moon gives us comfort. The billions of stars in the universe provoke from us awe and wonder.

            But we do impact the earth in dramatic ways. We enrich soil to make it even more fertile. We channel water for the purposes of irrigation and for hydroelectric power. We take sea water and take the salt out so that it can be used for irrigation or for drinking. With time we are able to transform desert places into fertile fields. We can protect animal species, moving them from near extinction to full flourishing again. Someone recently told me that there is a bald eagle nest near Grandview, which is pretty cool, especially because I remember when I was a kid that the bald eagle was very endangered. No longer. I remember when the grey wolf was near extinction. They now run free in Yellowstone. I have hope that one day bison by the hundreds will once again thunder across the plains.

            But we also make a lot of roads. We tear up what used to be farm land to build more houses in the suburban sprawl. We pump chemicals into the ground. We spray pesticides that threaten the survivability of bees. We continue the deforestation of the Amazon. Fertilizer run off creates massive algae blooms that kill off the fish. Lead leaches into the water that then comes out of the water fountains of elementary schools, not only in Flint and in Detroit but in other places as well.

            We, as the human species, impact the earth in many ways. Some of the impacts foster life and renewal. Some of the impacts are destructive and deprive the earth of life. Some of our impacts liberate the earth to bring forth life, which is what the earth is designed to do. Some of our impacts oppress the earth, undermining and even preventing the bringing forth of life, frustrating what the earth is designed to do. We know that God, who made the earth, is on the side of the earth. So here’s the question: are you also on the side of the earth? Do you stand with God as a faithful steward of the earth or not?

            I can’t imagine there are any of you who would readily say that you are not on the side of the earth. I am sure we are all concerned about the well-being of the earth. We all know that the earth is our home. It’s the only home we have in this life. And not just for us, but also for our children, grandchildren, all the generations that will follow us. This is our home. Surely all of us want to be responsible stewards of the earth, not just because God commanded as much in Genesis 2 but because we want there to be a habitable earth for the generations to follow. For better or worse, previous generations have handed the earth to us to care for. And our care is a mixed bag. Lake Erie is much cleaner than it used to be, back in the days when the water caught fire in Cleveland. Poor farming practices that turned the fertile prairies of Oklahoma and Kansas into barren sand in the Dust Bowl days of the 1930s have been restored through conservation efforts. The harm done to the earth in previous generations can be repaired. We do have the capacity to bless, restore, heal the earth.

            The hopeful thing about all of this is the conviction that God will intervene to protect the heavens and the earth from destruction. But the frightening thing is that the human species might be wiped out as a consequence of God’s protection of the earth from destruction. Now I know that might sound a bit alarmist. Maybe God would intervene in some way to prevent humanity from being wiped out as a consequence of the destructive impact humanity will make on the earth in the years and centuries ahead. The fact is that whether you see the earth as your responsibility to tend and care for or as a resource for you to extract for your own purposes, we all suffer from the consequences of our collective failure to care for the earth. We rise and fall together. That’s not to say that some suffer more than others. For example, there is a reason why massive pig and chicken farms are located in rural areas and often near the populations of people with brown or black skin. Environmental racism exists. Still, environmental degradation has no borders. We are all affected. And if entire species can become extinct, with or without human causes, then why couldn’t the same thing happen to the human species? Maybe God would prevent that from happening. Maybe the long term plan is for humanity to leave the earth and resettle on Mars and from there to the stars. Who knows?

            What I do know is that it would be wise for all of us to commit ourselves to be on God’s side. If God is on the side of the oppressed, then we should be on the side of the oppressed. If God is on the side of the heavens and the earth, then so should we. This has consequences for how we live, what we eat, what we buy, how we tend our corners of the world. So this is my challenge for us as this series of sermons during the season of creation comes to a close: I challenge us all to do what we can to protect and care for the earth, trusting that God is our help, the one who made heaven and earth.


Thursday, September 27, 2018

Harvest Sunday


Based on Psalm 1
First delivered Sept. 23, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            There is something about trees that cause them to be used as a powerful symbol for the human experience, or to symbolize how we want to live our lives. Maybe it’s their extensive root system that anchors them in the earth that speaks to our longing to be grounded, or to have a community where we can put down our roots. Maybe it’s how they can become hundreds of years old, which resonates with our appreciation for things that are ancient, that endure the test of time. A quick internet search reported to me of a spruce in Sweden that is estimated to be over 9,000 years old. Maybe it is how trees are constantly giving of themselves, a symbol of generosity. They provide shade. They provide shelter and food for animals. The annual fall of the leaves replenishes the soil as the leaves rot and break down. The rustling of the leaves and branches on a summer early afternoon calms our restlessness. Some trees give kids many hours of fun by climbing up the tree, hanging upside down from a branch, or stringing up a tire swing. Trees give us the kindling and wood for roaring campfires or the warm comfort of the fireplace. And now that fall has arrived, the leaves are losing their chlorophyll and revealing their true colors, red, orange and yellow, giving us breathtaking beauty. The annual cycle of a tree demonstrates the seasons of our life: the budding of the leaves in spring like our youth, the fullness of the canopy in the summer like our young adulthood, the falling of the leaves in autumn like our older adulthood, the dormancy of the tree in winter like our death. And then the tree’s cycle begins anew. In so many ways, trees evoke in us symbol and meaning.

            Trees appear all through the scriptures. In the beginning, in the Garden of Eden there is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the tree of life. The cedars of Lebanon are often mentioned. Jesus cursed a fig tree that had no fruit. Zacchaeus climbed up a sycamore tree to see Jesus. The tree of life is mentioned several times in the Book of Revelation. Olive trees and palm trees are mentioned in the psalms. Trees are used as a symbol in many of the prophets. Jeremiah 17:8 sounds a lot like Ps. 1, where we read, “[The one who trusts in God] will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” The one who trusts in God is like a tree planted by the water. They shall not be moved.

            So let’s look at how trees are used symbolically in Psalm 1. In verse 3 we read, “[Those who delight in God’s instruction] are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.” Let’s break this down.

            First of all, let me say something about what I mean by saying that the tree symbol refers to those who delight in God’s instruction. If you go back to vs. 2, it talks about delighting in the law of the Lord. That word “law” is the translation of the Hebrew word Torah. That word means more than just law. It means more broadly “instruction”. And by instruction is meant how to live a righteous life. So it’s intentionally practical and applicable to day to day living. I think it’s good for us to associate Torah with teaching or instruction instead of the more limited term “law”. I mean, verse 2 is talking about people who delight in the Torah and meditate on it day and night. Unless you get excited about reading legal codes, I can’t associate delight with meditating on legalese. What you find in law books is sleep inducing. One of the least popular books in the Bible is Leviticus because of all the legal stuff in there, most of which doesn’t apply to us. So, it just seems to me that for Torah to be something that you and I would want to meditate on day and night and to take delight in, it must be more than a legal code. We can take delight in being always open to what God might be instructing us throughout our day. Maybe in the morning you meditate on the written word of God in the Bible. At night you can spend time meditating on the day you have gone through, asking God the question, “What are you trying to teach me from today’s events?” To me, this seems to be a more realistic way to live out vs. 2, of delighting in God’s instruction and meditating on it day and night.

            It’s that kind of person, who is open to God’s ongoing instruction throughout the day, who is like a tree planted by streams of water. The tree is planted. This implies having roots that go down into the ground. To be planted is to be rooted, stable, resilient. To be planted is to stand fast and to not be moved about. So, to delight in God’s instruction is to be planted, rooted in the earth, resilient, stable.

            Our lives are constantly changing. We are confronted with new challenges and the need to adjust. Our kids grow up and move out into the world. Our work responsibilities change as we advance in our careers or change careers. Our bodies age and we have to adjust to what we can’t do anymore. In all the changes and challenges we have to work through, it is by turning to God’s instruction that grounds us and guides us so that we know what to do. The Bible is a constant companion for us all through our lives. Although the Bible doesn’t always give us exact answers for what to do in any given situation or challenge, the scriptures do remind us of who we are and how we are to live, as people who love God and one another. Meditating on the scriptures is one way that we can remain grounded as we move through the constant changes of life.

            This tree is planted by streams of water. Water is another common symbol throughout scripture, even more so than trees. Streams of water imply water that is fresh and flowing. It is not stagnant or smelly. It is water that is always moving forward and not standing still. Isn’t that an interesting contrast to a tree that is firmly rooted in the ground? Trees don’t move from where they are planted but living water is constantly moving in one direction, determined by the contours of the land. I wonder what the streams of water are meant to symbolize here?

            One way to answer that question is to observe the effects of a tree being planted by streams of water. The tree will yield its fruit in its season. If it’s an apple tree, it will yield apples in late summer and early fall. What does it mean for someone who delights in God’s instruction to yield fruit in its season? I think it may relate to the old proverb, “You will know a tree by its fruits.” In other words, you know what kind of person someone is by their character, their behaviors, the impact they have on the world. So here I think it means that those who delight in God’s instruction will demonstrate in their lives the living out of God’s instruction. They will bear good fruit in season. It’s not immediate. Learning the ways of God takes time. It’s something that shapes us, transforms our hearts, gives us insight and understanding of ourselves, others, and the world. It takes time to get things sorted out. And then something comes along that upends our life and we have to sort things out again. But as we stick with it, and keep meditating on God’s instruction, slowly but surely we will bear fruit in our lives. We will live a righteous life.

            I am thinking of someone I know who I will call John, not his real name. He is someone I have a lot of respect for. He has a lot of wisdom. He is responsive to what people are saying rather than forcing his own agenda. He is patient with others. He gently guides conversations so that the group can come to a consensus on a way forward. He is for me a role model of Christian leadership. He told me once that the way he is now is not how he once was. As a younger man, he could easily lose his temper. He was impatient. He had clarity on what needed done and sought to force his solutions. He may have been right but it bruised people in the process. The way John is now in comparison to how he once was is a demonstration of a life transformed. He is bearing a different kind of fruit than he did when he was a young man. Apple trees will only bear apples. But the fruit we bear can change with time. We can be transformed. That’s what meditating on God’s instruction over a long period of time can do to a person. In season, good fruit is produced.

            The other effect of a tree planted by streams of water is that the leaves don’t wither. That makes sense. If a tree is by the water, as long as there is water flowing there is no need for rain. The roots can get all the moisture necessary to thrive.

            There is a stereotype of Oklahoma that it is all flat and wide open prairie. That’s not true. The geography of Oklahoma isn’t all the same. But that description of Oklahoma being flat prairie land is true in some parts of the state. It’s on the prairie where trees are rare. I mean tall trees, not the scrawny pine trees scattered about or the stubby blackjack oak trees with those waxy dark green leaves that shimmer with the reflection of the sunlight off of them. If you look out over the prairie and you see a clump of tall trees, then you know where the water is. There is bound to be a spring, a creek, a stream, some kind of moving water for there to be trees in the Oklahoma prairie. Fresh water is necessary for trees to thrive. And so it is, that those who delight in God’s instruction, meditating on it day and night, will thrive. They will not dry up and blow away like chaff.

            So what are the streams of water supposed to symbolize? Surely it represents God’s instruction. It is instruction that moves with us through our days. It is living water that nourishes our minds, hearts, and souls, no matter what season of life we are in or what challenges and struggles we have to work through. The living water of God’s instruction gives us life. It helps us produce good fruit. It helps us thrive even during dry spells, when our lives are not as exciting and inspiring as in previous years. That’s what meditating on God’s instruction does for us, that no matter what our life circumstance might be, or what season of life we are going through, from the young vitality of the spring time of youth to the long sigh of winter in our elder years, we can thrive and bear good fruit in the midst of it. Our external circumstances won’t be able to block us from living a righteous life, a life that gives life to others like a tree does.

            So how can you realize this in your life? None of us want to be as the wicked are described in verse 4, as chaff that the wind drives away. We want to be firmly rooted in the earth, near the stream of God’s instruction, taking it in and letting that instruction nourish us so that we can bear good fruit, so that we can thrive, so that we can prosper as beloved children of God. By prosperity is not meant having a big house and a fat bank account. It means being prosperous in bearing good fruit, fruit that lasts, that makes a difference, that makes the world better and healthier. So as you think about this symbol of a fruit bearing tree planted by streams of water, what do you need to do? What is the next step you can take so that you are more deeply rooted to the earth and taking in the nourishment of the living water which is God’s instruction? Let’s take a minute and I invite you to sit with that question. I will then close with prayer.


Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Sky Sunday


Based on Psalm 19
First delivered Sept. 16, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr

 This series of sermons is inspired by an interdenominationally recognized liturgical season called Season of Creation. The season and series concludes at the end of the month.

            When you hear the word “domination” what first comes to your mind? What feelings are triggered by that word? Maybe it’s a negative feeling. You sense a little twitch in your stomach or your heart beats a tad faster. The experience of domination, of having been dominated, can be a difficult, even painful experience, like, for example, you were bullied as a kid. On the other hand, domination may bring to mind positive experiences. You feel a different sensation in your gut, the feeling of pride or accomplishment. Say, for example, you played on a school sports team that regularly dominated the competition. Domination is a powerful word that can evoke sensations within us, positive or negative, depending on what experiences we connect with that word.

            What makes the difference between positive and negative experiences of domination? It comes down to what is the intention and the effects. Let’s consider, for example, a boss and her employees. The boss is in the dominant position. She hired the employees. It is her company. Now obviously her intention is to be profitable. But, in addition, if her intent is to invest in her employees, taking care of their needs, rewarding them and building them up, making the work place enjoyable and enriching, these are all intentions that are good, that benefit the employees. This is a good kind of dominance. But if the boss only sees her employees as replaceable objects to be discarded, and whose only intent is to enrich herself, caring nothing about the well-being of her employees, this is clearly a negative form of dominance. So being in a dominant position and in a subordinate position is good or bad, depending on the intentions of the one in a dominant position and the results that follow. Dominance itself is neither good or bad. What matters is the intentions and effects of the domination. Are those subordinate to those in the dominant position cared for or hurt? The source of domination has a responsibility to use domination in ways that are helpful rather than harmful.

            Every four years, every person who is related to the annual conference in some way has to attend a healthy boundaries seminar. It is a day to focus on self-care, ethics, and a reminder of how critical it is for clergy to maintain appropriate boundaries in our relationships. One of the first subjects we talked about was the difference between boundary crossing and boundary violation. To cross a boundary is to enter into someone’s space. That’s something we do all the time. Shaking someone’s hand, going into someone’s house, gathering in this space, this is all boundary crossing. A crossing becomes a violation when your purpose and intentions are wrong. If you cross a boundary for the purpose of meeting your own need rather or with the intent to cause harm, that’s a violation. Crossing boundaries are neither good nor bad. It is the purpose and intent of the crossing that can get you into trouble, and the consequences can be long lasting, as many of you who have been a part of St. Luke’s for a while can attest.

            We also talked about power. We were reminded that pastors have power by nature of the office we hold. In pastoral relationships, there is an unequal power balance, whether pastors acknowledge it or not. And to fail to acknowledge the power difference is not only a denial of reality but can potentially lead to great harm. Pastors need to acknowledge the power they have and determine what their purpose and intent is to use that power. Will they use the power they have to heal or hurt, to benefit others or to exploit others?

            Domination, crossing boundaries, power, all of this is neutral. What makes these realities helpful or harmful depends on the purpose and intent of those involved in the relationship. I took the time to go over all this because it is helpful to keep in mind as we interpret the meaning of Psalm 19.

            The psalmist begins by proclaiming that the heavens declare the glory of God, pouring out speech, without words, that declare knowledge. If you think about it, the sky and the objects in the sky have dominion over us. How so? Mainly because you and I can’t control or manipulate the sky or the objects in the sky, the sun, the moon, the planets, the stars. We can’t do anything to them. We can only be impacted by them. One way to get at this is to think about the weather. We say it all the time, there’s nothing we can do about the weather. We just have to deal with it. I know that attempts have been made to influence the weather, to seed clouds in order to try to make it rain. Also, global warming, of which our actions are a major contributor, is having an impact on the weather. But for the most part, the weather happens to us. We can’t make the weather do what is more convenient for us. The same with the heat of the sun, and the gravitational pull of the moon; we are subject to their effects. The sun, the moon, the weather, the sky, has dominion over us. How does the sky exercise its dominion? What is its purpose and intent? It is to declare the glory of God and to communicate knowledge to us.

            What is that knowledge? What does the sky, the sun, the moon and the stars tell us without words? Those who practice astrology would say that the sun, moon, and planets give us knowledge about ourselves, our personalities, and what situations we can anticipate occurring, what we need to pay attention to. The skies tell us what season we are in, when to plant and when to harvest. The Old Farmers Almanac has a table that lists when are the best times to do all sorts of things based on where the moon is in the sky. So for today, Sept. 16th, this is a good day to straighten your hair, go camping (glad you chose to be here instead), prune bushes and pour concrete. The sky tells us when are the best times to go fishing. The rule of thumb is to go at sunrise or sunset during a full moon, which is when fish tend to be more active. So that’s the knowledge that the sky gives us. And all of this knowledge is certainly for our benefit so that we can live better. The sky uses its dominion over us to give us knowledge of when to do certain things so that our lives will be enriched. This is a good use of dominion.

            The psalmist then gets specific, describing the activity of the sun. The sun, of course, dominates the sky during the day. As the psalmist says, nothing can escape from its heat. The sun takes its daily route with haste and with joy. As the psalmist poetically describes it, the sun sleeps at night with his beloved in the tent God has provided for him. And then in the morning the sun springs out of his tent with strength and runs his path across the sky, just as God has purposed. He runs the course of his day so that he can return to his tent where his beloved is waiting for him. And we all receive the benefit of the sun’s route. Life itself depends on the energy of the sun. The sun is a great example of a positive form of domination. We can’t control the sun. We are subject to the sun’s effects. But they are good effects, necessary for life. We benefit from the sun’s domination of the sky.

            The psalmist then moves to a description of God’s ordinances and all the benefits that go with it. Let’s rehearse all the benefits we receive from the domination of God’s ordinances: they revive the soul, make us wise, rejoice our hearts, enlighten our eyes, and endure forever. The ordinances are right and just, more precious than gold and more sweet than the honey that drips from the honeycomb. Far from having the purpose of weighing us down or intending to do us harm, God’s ordinances are life giving. Subjecting ourselves to the domination of God’s ordinances, says the psalmist, grants us benefit over benefit. Just like the sun, God’s ordinances are an example of positive dominion.

            Then, the psalmist prays that God would protect her from the insolent. It is here that we find the subject of dominion directly, in vs. 13. Who are these people that the psalmist wants God to prevent from having dominion over her? Surely these are people who use their power over people for the purpose of self-gratification and to do harm to those subject to them. They use their dominion in ways opposite to the dominion of the sky, the sun, and God’s ordinances. And notice that the psalmist pleas for God to be the deliverer, to keep the insolent back. She acknowledges that some people, and I would say, some systems of power, are beyond our control. We need God to intervene, to release us from the people or systems of power whose domination does harm.

            What do I mean by people or systems of power that dominate us? One example could be our food system. Industrial agriculture dominates our food supply. Just walk into a grocery store. On one side is where you can buy produce, which is actual food. But the central shelves of the store are filled with heavily processed so called foods. Earlier this week I was hosting my clergy cluster here at the church and I wanted to make some fresh baked breads.  I got a box of blueberry muffin mix, the one that comes with a small tin of blueberries to fold into the batter. When I opened the can to rinse the blueberries, let me just say they didn’t look like blueberries to me. They were a reddish purple color, uniform in shape and half the size of real blueberries. They looked like frankenberries to me. I chose to make the blueberry muffins anyway. Sure, I could have made the blueberry muffins from scratch. But the flour I would have used would have come from genetically modified wheat that is nothing like it would have been 100 years ago and would have been doused in Roundup. Don’t even get me started on the factory farms that our chicken and pork products come from. You get the point. We are subject to a food system designed to maximize profits while doing harm to our bodies. I believe we need delivered from this domination. With God’s help we need to fundamentally change how we feed ourselves so that all of us can thrive. And God is our help. As the psalmist says, God is our rock and redeemer. God can redeem us from all the systems of domination we are under that are harming us. I don’t know where else to place my hope than in the power of God to redeem, to save, to transform.

            I can’t end this message about dominion without mentioning the commandment God gave to Adam and Eve to have dominion over the earth. We obviously can’t have any impact on the heavens, on the sun and the moon. But we definitely impact the earth. We can cultivate and shape it. We can work with the earth to enhance its capacity to bring forth life. Through sustainable farming methods we can replenish the soil in healthy ways that not only produce for us healthier food but also enriches and improves the soil itself. Or we can pave it over, use farming methods that slowly sap away the fertility of the soil, extract whatever of value we can get from a place and then move on. Having considered both positive and negative dominion, how do you understand the commandment God has given us as human beings to have dominion over the earth? It is certainly a huge responsibility God has given us, to be about the work of blessing the earth rather than exploiting the earth for our own purposes. Do we not need God’s forgiveness for how we have not always exercised our dominion in the proper way? As the psalmist says, we need God to cleanse us from our hidden faults, for often we aren’t even aware of how our actions in daily life are doing harm to the earth. In spite of our individual and collective failure to exercise our dominion responsibly, there is hope for us that we can do better. So I have a little assignment for you today. Sometime this afternoon, I invite you to sit with this question: how will I acknowledge and manifest my dominion today? I’m thinking of dominion in a broader context than just our relationship with the earth. What about your dominating human relationships, for example as a parent, as a supervisor or boss, a teacher, or any other relationship in which you have more power? You do have areas of your life where you are in the dominant position. How will you exercise that power today?


Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Mountain Sunday


Based on Psalm 125
First delivered Sept. 9, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            I love mountains. Don’t you? From a distance you aren’t sure if what you are seeing are mountain peaks or purplish clouds. But as you get closer, you make it out. Driving up the mountains, ears popping, the air is fresh and crisp. The smell of the pine trees is intoxicating. Listening to the burbling and gurgling streams, wading into a clear mountain lake, feeling the chill of the water while looking over the perfect reflection on the surface of the green meadow and thick woods all around. The sky is a dark blue. The clouds a little closer to the ground. And then you get to the summit where you can look around for miles. Sometimes small puffy clouds float by below where you are standing as you feel the gusty wind on your face.

            Mountains are sacred places. Maybe it’s just because on top of them you are closer to the sky. Many cultures have identified mountains as places where contact can be made with the divine. Take the Bible for an example. Moses got the Ten Commandments on top of a mountain. Elijah saw God on top of a mountain. Jesus was transfigured before his disciples on top of a mountain. When he opened his heart to the Father before his arrest, Jesus was on the Mount of Olives. We could go on and on. And it should not be surprising. For those of us who have had the privilege of spending time on the summit of a mountain, we sense God’s presence. The lyric in John Denver’s song “Rocky Mountain High” rings true: “You can talk to God and listen for his casual reply.” Mountains are truly majestic.

            Mountains symbolize stability. Jesus plays off of that according to the gospel of  Matthew. In Matthew 17:21 we find Jesus saying, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” And we all go, “Yeah, right.” Mountains don’t move. They can erode over tens of thousands of years. The Appalachian range is a great example. But you can’t just move a mountain. Wildfires can burn up the trees. Heavy rains can create mudslides. Mining companies can remove the tops of mountains. But whole mountains don’t go anywhere. They will stay right where they are. Mountains are stable. They are the perfect landmarks.

            Mountains also have excellent strategic value for protection. It’s a standard battle tactic: you want high ground. Kids play this at recess, king of the hill. The one on top has the advantage. It’s a lot harder being below and trying to get up to the top when you have someone above you pushing you back down. But not only that, if you have the high ground the stone you throw at your enemy is going to come at them a lot harder and farther than your enemy throwing a stone up at you. Not only that, having higher ground means you can see your enemy coming from miles away, giving you plenty of time to prepare. It’s a no brainer to build your castle or your fortress on the tops of mountains. Jerusalem, for example, is built on Mount Zion. It is much safer to be on the top of a mountain than on the bottom.

            These two aspects of mountains, stability and protection, is being picked up on in the psalm we heard this morning. “Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever.” Stability. “As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people, from this time on and forevermore.” Protection. How more protected can you be, living on top of a mountain surrounded by mountains? That’s a pretty good place to be. So these first two verses of Psalm 125 are stressing the point that God is our protector and never stops being our protector, a stable, constant presence. And not only that, those who trust in God also will not be moved. They will be able to stand against the onslaught, whatever comes their way, because they trust not in people, not in their own strength, but in God, the creator. God is like a mountain…stable and protective. Those who trust in God are like a mountain…stable and protective. Protective of what?

            This psalm is bold in the claim that God is our protector and putting our trust in God makes us unmovable. But it is not naïve to the reality that although God is our protector, that doesn’t mean evil has no impact. History clearly teaches this. God’s protection didn’t prevent Israel from being invaded. Jerusalem has been reduced to rubble more than once. The Temple that existed when Jesus was alive got torn down and paved over by the Romans, who renamed Jerusalem, literally erasing it from the map. God is our protector, but that doesn’t mean we are untouchable. That doesn’t mean that evil can wreak a lot of havoc and destruction.

            The psalmist is aware of this. She notes in verse three that scepter of wickedness shall not rest on the land. This assumes that the scepter of wickedness shows up from time to time and attempts to do just that, to rest on the land, to occupy the land, to claim the land as its own dominion. The psalmist says it will not rest on the land so that the righteous won’t be tempted to stretch out their hands to do wrong. Again, history is the teacher. For example, in those times when Jerusalem was invaded and occupied, many of the righteous found themselves tempted to take hold of the powers that be, to join with the victor, to be collaborators with the oppressors. Maybe it was for survival. Maybe it was the idea that if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Maybe it was out of a place of disillusionment. God had failed us. We are a conquered people. We must accept our oppression and allow it to become the new normal. And so they capitulated, forsaking God, forsaking their own identity, turning aside to their own crooked ways, as the Psalmist puts it. Have you ever determined in your mind to accept the status quo, even though you know that the status quo is corrupt and not what God has in mind? Have you ever given in or given up? I have. The temptation of surrendering to the scepter of evil is a real thing. God is our protector. God is immovable. But evil is real, is a threat, makes an impact, must be resisted. Just because God is our protector does not mean that there is no struggle.

            In this struggle, we do have reason to hope. We heard that hope being claimed right in the first verse. Those who trust in God cannot be moved. In the face of evil, in those hard times, where all around us we see threats to the community, where we see violence, hateful speech, people treating other people like objects, greed, scapegoating, and on and on, in the midst of all of that, we still claim that those who trust in God will not be moved. Trusting in God…that is where hope lives. After all, evil may have a scepter, but God is like a mountain. And evil can take its stick and whack that mountain all day and all night, the mountain isn’t going anywhere. Oh yes, evil can leave a mark. Evil leaves traces of its presence on the mountain. But that mountain is steady. It abides forever. So yes, evil can make its impact, and it can hang around for awhile. But the Psalmist, in hope, proclaims that the evil scepter will not rest. It will not stay. It will not always occupy the land which God has allotted to the righteous, to God’s children, to God’s creation. The land does not belong to evil. The land belongs to God. So there is a struggle. But there is also hope. Evil will not endure. God endures.

            Psalm 125 is a hopeful and confident prayer that God is our protector. Yes, life is hard. Yes, we get hurt, sometimes by our own actions but many times by the actions of others. Yes, we all experience trauma. But lest we think God isn’t much of a protector, remember that what God protects is our hope, our courage, our goodness. God protects our souls. God protects us from despair.

            We can be protectors as well. As we seek to live our lives in imitation of God, as God’s children, we can strive to take on the characteristic of a mountain. With God’s help, we can stand firm like a mountain. We can protect others from the influence of evil by doing good, by speaking a word of encouragement, by reminding people of who they are, beloved children of God. We can protect the earth, resisting those things that are harming nature and doing what we can to protect and restore nature, through recycling, making consumer choices that benefit sustainable agriculture, and more. We don’t have to settle for how our economy and way of life negatively impacts creation. Trusting in God, we can do good, we can proclaim peace and do the work necessary to restore wholeness in ourselves, in our families, in our communities, in our world. Trusting in God, and confronting the scepter of evil, we can stand strong and protect the land.

            As I worked on this sermon, this song kept coming to my mind. I’m going to go out on a limb a little and finish this message by inviting you to join me in singing it. It’s an old spiritual called “I Will Not Be Moved.” In the message I talked about us taking on the characteristic of a mountain. This song calls us to be like a tree planted by the water. It’s the same idea, that with God’s help, we will not be moved in the face of evil. So let’s sing this song together.


Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Planting Sunday


Season of Creation
Based on Song of Songs 2:8-13
First delivered Sept. 2, 2018
Rev. Dr. Kevin Orr


            Today marks the beginning of a new series of messages centered around creation and our responsibility to be stewards of the earth. This Sunday is called Planting Sunday. Planting seeds is the beginning of the growth process. Today we are beginning a journey of exploration of the wonder and beauty of creation and our role as stewards. Next week is Mountain Sunday. As we consider what mountains can teach us, we will be challenged to protect and care for the earth. The following Sunday is Sky Sunday. On this day we will reflect on the difference between dominion and exploitation. After that is Harvest Sunday. We will consider the process of cultivation and harvesting the fruits of our labor. The series concludes with a time of blessing the diversity of creation on our home, the earth. Later that afternoon we will have a blessing of the pets which is open to the community. So that’s the direction we are taking through this month of worship.

            The background of this focus on creation in September is something that was started by a Lutheran pastor in Australia back in 2000. Other church groups picked up on this, making September a season of creation, an annual period of time to celebrate the diversity of creation and to renew the commandment given to us by God to tend to the creation, which we read about in Genesis. If you want to know more about this worldwide, ecumenical observance you can check out seasonofcreation.org. There are a lot of resources on their site. In fact, later this month I will be providing all of you various resources that you can access to learn more about creation care and what things you can do to be better stewards. So stay tuned for that. (As an aside, I know we have a few other things going on this coming Saturday, with the prayer walk and the happiness class, but there will be a big rally at the State House advocating for creation care this Saturday at 11 a.m.)

            Let’s turn to the scripture reading we have for today. It happens to be one of the assigned texts in the lectionary for this Sunday. In case you don’t know, the lectionary is a collection of scriptures assigned for every Sunday over a three year period. It covers of course a huge chunk of the Bible. I like using the lectionary because it forces me to work with texts that I would not likely have chosen on my own. It helps us get exposed to a much wider swath of scripture. Every sermon I have shared with you since I have been here has been based on a scripture assigned for that particular Sunday. There is always an Old Testament reading, a psalm, a New Testament reading and a Gospel reading. Today we are looking at the Old Testament reading, one of those rare Sundays where the reading is taken from the Song of Solomon. 

            The Song of Solomon is not your typical book in the Bible. It is a book of love poetry. It is included in the section of the Bible devoted to wisdom writings, which also includes Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. God is not mentioned once in the whole book. Esther is the only other book in the Bible where God is not mentioned. Solomon is identified as the author of this book, him being known as the wisest king Israel ever had. But it is very uncertain that he actually wrote this book. There are three voices in this book. There is a man, a woman, and a group of friends. It is the voice of the woman that dominates this book. She is free to speak from her own perspective. She voices her own longing and passion, her own frustrations, her own delights. So many books in the Old Testament are about the exploits of male leaders, of politics, battles, palace intrigue, and the like. But this book gives us a glimpse into the more private lives of Israel. We hear the voices of a young man and woman in love, pursuing each other before they are able to be married. The images are sometimes erotic, sensual and lush. Many of them we can’t make sense of because we don’t know the cultural context. And frankly it’s tenuous exactly why this book is even in the Bible. Jews often interpret it as a metaphor of God’s love for Israel. Christians have taken it to be about Christ’s love for the church. But interpreted as it is, we have a young woman and a young man in love with each other, pursuing each other, but never consummating their love, always just out of each other’s grasp. For me, the Song of Solomon is about that passionate pursuit of the divine, of God and I pursuing each other, getting close but always just out of reach. The book challenges me to acknowledge that relationship with God is much more than a head thing. Love includes passion, longing, desire. If we are in love with God, should passionate desire be a part of that love? Yet we have a tendency to suppress that aspect of love when it comes to religion. To connect passionate desire for relationship with Jesus comes across to us as a bit extreme, even a little risqué. But that’s why I think the Song of Solomon is valuable to us. It presses us to consider how we incorporate passionate desire into our love relationship with God. It’s a good question to sit with for a while and ponder, which is one reason why this book is included in the wisdom section of the Bible.

            Anyway, let’s focus on what is going on in the text we have before us this morning. It begins with the woman, the lover, looking out and seeing her beloved leaping across the mountains and bounding over the hills like a young stag. Can’t you see it? And then he is standing on the other side of the wall where she is. She is sitting in her room in her house looking out the window at him and he has drawn near and is looking at her from outside. And he calls out to her, “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away with me.” He goes on to say that winter is over, the rains have stopped. In Israel, winter is the rainy season. But now the season has transitioned to spring time. The time has come for her to get out of the house, come outside and enjoy the beauty that all the rainy season has helped to bring about: flowers everywhere, the singing of birds, including the migrating turtledove, the fig trees bearing fruit, blossoming vines giving off fragrance. Again, the beloved says to his lover, “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Come out of your house and let’s play!

            Spring is such a wonderful time of the year. It’s my favorite season. Is it yours? We can open the windows and air out our homes that have been closed to keep out the cold winter wind. The temperature warms enough that we can sit outside or go for a nice, leisurely walk. The air smells of life, those scents of flowers and of warming soil. Everything is green. It is like the earth is fresh and new again, a new start, a fresh beginning after the long dormancy of winter. It is no accident that we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus in the spring. Nature evokes resurrection for us. Signs of resurrection all around!

            This passage from the Song of Solomon is a great one for spring time. But, it’s not spring. We are late into summer. Fall starts in only a few weeks. Labor Day weekend which we are having now sort of signals to us as the last hurrah of summer. And it’s going to feel like summer this week coming! But before we know it, we will be pulling out the sweaters. The leaves will need raking. Apples and pumpkins and winter squash will be plentiful. The days will continue to get shorter and shorter and the nights longer and longer. Cloudy, rainy days are not far off. And the rains will switch over to snow before we know it. And we will settle in for another winter. We are not at the new start of spring but nearing the end of a maturing summer. So what can we do with this text today? How might it speak to us?

            I am drawn to the location of the lover and the beloved. The lover is sitting in her house behind a wall looking out the window. Her beloved is out in the country, on the other side of the wall, jumping around. And he beckons her to come out, to go on the other side of the wall, and join him in the open country. This speaks to me. Maybe you resonate with this as well.

            What walls are we sitting behind? What are the barriers that we have constructed or others have constructed for us that keep us contained? There are all kinds of walls, of barriers. I am thinking about the wall of habit and routine. We get into patterns of daily routines. Or should I call them ruts? There is the wall of familiarity. We confine ourselves to our little territory. We drive the same routes. Go to the same grocery store, the same cluster of restaurants, the same park, the same hair salon, the same fill in the blank. There is the wall of safety. What I mean is the self-imposed barrier that keeps us from engaging with cultures, peoples, religions or non-religions, political views, anything or anyone that is different, strange, other. We keep ourselves confined to what is safe, familiar, known, expected.

            But on the other side of the wall of familiarity is a much bigger and wider world. It may seem to us a wilder world. And there is so much to see, to explore, to smell, to taste, to touch. And our beloved is out there in that world. I hear him calling us to climb over our walls, whatever they are, and go with him into this wider world and explore together new sights, new smells, new tastes, new hands to hold and things to touch. See, God is not only with us in our homes of familiarity, routine and habit behind the wall. God is also out there, beyond, in the open country. And there is so much life out there to experience. Is not God calling us to come outside our homes of familiarity and to go exploring with God a much wider, bigger, diverse world? I believe God is doing just that.

            So today we begin a journey. It is my hope that through these messages over these Sundays in September, that we can explore the wonder and diversity of creation. Both by being more observant of the familiar and opening ourselves to a wider view of the world we will delight in God’s abundant creativity. And as we journey together with God, climbing over the walls and going out into the wider world, we will get a bigger picture of the responsibility we have as protectors and stewards of this beautiful world, the earth, our home. So arise, my love, my fair one, and come away with me.