You never know
2 Thessalonians 2: 1-5, 13-17 (The Message)
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
November 6, 2016
Smile On Your Brother, Rico Fonseca, 2012 |
(It’s times like these I
wish I could preach my sermon with the voice of David McCullough.)
Generations
had hoped for it, thinking it would happen in their lifetime. Thousands went to their graves without having
witnessed it but still were faithful despite being ridiculed and persecuted for
their belief. Many were doubtful it
would ever come to pass. Most had
forgotten the old dream; the prophecies were like a bad joke. Yet still, “not alone we conquer, not alone
we fall; in each loss or triumph, lose or triumph all. Bound by God’s far purpose, in one living
whole, move we on together to the shining goal.”
THE CUBS WON THE WORLD SERIES!
Yes,
the possibility of this post-modern apocalyptic event had been likened to the
second coming of Christ or hell freezing over, even though the Chicago Cubs
were the heavy favorite. I don’t know of
any pastor who can resist the opportunity to link baseball with faith. Baseballs fans are faithful to their club,
their nation, even when cussing them out, even when they’ve been the butt of
every joke, even when they leave you hanging out to dry in September, even when
the team has a curse on it. We keep
coming back for more, because you never know; maybe, just maybe, this is the
year it happens. And long-suffering Cubs
fans have been the most faithful of all.
Even
though the early Church was still a new church start, the people in
Thessalonica and elsewhere were losing their religion. These early Christians thought they had
waited long enough; they were anxious and worried that they had missed the
second coming of Christ, and the parade had happened without them. They had been given misinformation; they had
been deceived by the teachings of others.
It was as if they had spent too much time on social media, watched too
much television, paying attention to every bit and scrap of news, allowing
multiple opinions to hold sway over their thoughts and emotions, overwhelming
everything they had been taught and heard about being faithful. On top of it all they were being persecuted for
being on the wrong team, the losing side of history.
Though
there is debate as to whether Paul wrote this letter or someone wrote it in his
name, whether it was written in the mid-‘50’s or around the turn of the 1st
century, the message to our present anxiety and fear is still the same now as
it was then: take a firm stand, keep your
feet on the ground, and your head held high.
Remember who you are, whose you are, and what you have been taught. May Jesus himself and God in whom we have
life, who reached out in love and surprised you with gifts of unending help and
confidence, put a fresh heart in you, invigorate your work, enliven your
speech.
Though
we may have very real concerns about the outcome of the election and the months
following, it does not change who we are.
We are Church. One meaning of
that is we have been taught to remember in the face of our fears rather than allow
our fears to take over. And this Table
is where we are called to remember: On
the night of betrayal and desertion, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it,
and gave it to his disciples, saying, take, eat, this is my body broken for
you. Do this in remembrance of me. Remember what love can do. Remember that before transformation there
must be surrender.
Like
Moses before him, Jesus nor his disciples nor countless others after them lived
to see the promised land, the fruition of their faith, the outcome of the risks
they took. Eight years ago it looked
like our nation was more unified than ever before. We had elected our first African-American
president. Yes we can—we thought we
could. Now we know we have more hard work
to do than we thought we did—a lot more.
Hard
work means a higher need for self-care.
We can’t stand firm if we’re weary.
We can’t plant our feet on the ground if we’re always running around. If we’re going to remember what we’ve been
taught, we can’t just skim and get the highlights or try to pick up every scrap
and bit of news. Author and pastor Kirk
Byron Jones says “It is your spiritual responsibility to be careful with your
energy and protective of your heart.”
Beginning
at sunset tonight I invite you to join me in taking a social media, news outlet,
and political email fast until Election Day.
Light a candle instead. No blogs,
no pundits, no newspaper, no broadcast news, no NPR or BBC. It seems everyone is preparing to do battle
the day of and the days after the election. What if instead we prepared
ourselves to be peacemakers? What if we
prepared ourselves to have compassion, to listen, to be merciful, to forgive,
to accept, to be aware of the emotions of others and ourselves? To keep our hearts soft and our minds
open. Instead of steeling ourselves
against, what if we strengthened our core to withstand? Instead of steeping ourselves in rhetoric we
immersed ourselves in the psalms, the prophets, and the gospels? Instead of choosing sides remembering that
there really is only one side, the human side?
Let’s
do ourselves and everyone around us a favor.
Before we vote on Tuesday, let’s take a walk in the sunshine. Dig our hands into the earth. Make a delicious meal, share it with others,
and savor each bite. Have a glass of
wine. Have a milkshake. Eat chocolate. Make some art or music, write a story or poem
or idea, build or fix something. Read
something that challenges what you think you know. Read Psalm 37. (Really, read Psalm 37.) Notice beauty. Stop and listen. Play.
Sing. Have a dance party in the
kitchen or at the office. Laugh. Have a good cry with someone. Hug each other. Go easy on yourself and others. Let go.
Pray. Meditate. Make a little love. Get a good night’s sleep. Get up the next day
and give thanks. And come to the
Election Escape party at 7 p.m.
Wait and see what comes
next. Because you never know. You never know. The Cubs just might win the World Series.
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