This week's sermon

LENT 3 3/20/22

          Today’s lesson from Exodus tells us how God chose Moses to lead the children of Israel on their ‘exodus’ from Egypt to ‘the promise land’.

          And what a story it is!

          Moses, as you might remember was adopted by Pharoh’s daughter as a baby. But in this passage he is tending the sheep of his father-in-law, Jethro when he is confronted by a burning bush that does not burn up.

          God tells him to take off his shoes because he is on holy ground.

          God then tells him he will lead the people of Israel out of bondage into their new land.

          God also tells him the he is the God of his ancestors.

          So, Moses asks what his name is. A natural question because all the gods in Egypt have names—like RA and BAAL.

          God tells him that the name is I AM and then tells him to tell the people I AM WHO I AM is calling them. I AM WHO I AM

is, in Hebrew “yod, he, vav, he”—so God’s name is YAHWEH.

          That name was so holy it could not be spoken aloud or even written in it’s entirety. When a Jewish scribe came to that name when transcribing scripture, he would set aside his quill, get a brand new one, write the name and then break the quill so it could never be used again.

          YAHWEH is that holy!

          Then, in the Gospel of Luke, we heard Jesus tell the people that no one is not in need of repentance.

          Luke is the most gentle and forgiving of all the Gospels.

          But Jesus words today are harsh for Luke.

          We must repent.

          But God will give us time, just as the gardener gave the fig tree time to bear fruit.

          And what fruit should we bear?

          To comment on that, I want to end with a blog I posted last week. Here it is.

        Sometimes I wonder what God is up to.

Things fall apart here on earth--Ukraine, global warming, racial

hatred, Q-anon, poverty, famine, laws against LGBTQ folks—

where is God in all that?  

I'm just not sure.

I'm an optimist of the first degree.

I always see the glass half full.

But sometimes I stop and ponder--how come God doesn't do

something about all these problems with God's children?

Maybe God relies on us--you and me--to do God's will in this world.

Maybe, perhaps, we have to step up and do something ourselves,

in God's name about the problems of our time.

Ponder that.

Then act, speak out, stand up, defend, protest, vote, find your voice, make your opinions known.

Maybe, perhaps, we are the instruments of God in this world.

Not "maybe" or "perhaps"--it is the truth!

We are the hands and feet and voice and action of God.

Really....

 

 

I know this isn't right...

 but I want to tell a Dave Garner joke.

"Baby. and her boyfriend Chuck were on a motorcycle.

Baby said, 'Chuck, I'm cold.'

And Chuck said, 'turn your jacket around."

She did and zip-pop he zipped it up. 'Now you'll be warm', he told her.

But two miles down the road they were hit by a car.

Two Black boys found the bodies.

A police-car pulled up and the officer said to the two boys, 'What happened to these lovely children?'

One of the boys said, 'Mr. Chuck was killed outright, but Miss Baby was alright until me and Junior turned her head around.'"

Lots in the world has their jacket on backwards.

We have to be careful not to turn the head around.

That's a big mistake.

Sometimes I wonder...

Sometimes I wonder what God is up to.

Things fall apart here on earth--Ukraine, global warming, racial hatred, Q-anon, poverty, famine, laws against LGBTQ folks--where is God in all that?  

I'm just not sure.

I'm an optimist of the first degree.

I always see the glass half full.

But sometimes I stop and ponder--how come God doesn't do something about all these problems with God's children?

Maybe God relies on us--you and me--to do God's will in this world.

Maybe we have to step up and do something ourselves, in God's name about the problems of our times.

Just maybe.

Ponder that.

Then act, speak out, stand up, defend, protest, vote, find your voice, make your opinions known.

Maybe we are the instruments of God in this world.

Not "maybe" or "perhaps"--it is the truth!

We are the hands and feet and voice and action of God.

Really....

 

Here's something else

 

CREEDO

I believe in the Edges of God.

Truly, that is my limit on the whole question of Creed.

 

I don't believe in God storming out of the clouds

and smiting me to smithereens if I am bad.

I don't believe in a God who would wake me up,

pin me to my bed and give me bleeding sores

on my palms and the top of my feet,

much less my side.

(Explain that to your general practitioner!)

I don't believe in a God who would instruct me

to slay infidels or displace peaceful people

so I can have a Motherland.

I don't believe in a God that has nothing better to do

besides visit bedrooms around the globe

uncovering (literally) illicit love.

I don't believe in a God who frets

about who wins the next election.

I don't believe in a God who believes in 'abomination'.

 

I believe in the edges of God--

the soft parts, the tender pieces--

the feathers and the fur of God.

 

I do believe in the ears of God,

which stick out—cartoon like—on the edges of God's Being.

I, myself, listen and listen

and then listen some more

for the Still, Small Voice.

I believe in God's nose—pronounced and distinctively

Jewish in my belief--

I smell trouble from time to time

and imagine God sniffs it out too.

The toenails and finger nails of God--

there is some protein I can hold onto,

if only tentatively.

 

Hair, there's something to believe in as well.

God's hair—full, luxurious, without need of jell or conditioner,

filling up the Temple, heaven, the whole universe!

I can believe in God's hair.

 

God's edges shine and blink and reflect color.

God's edges are like the little brook,

flowing out of the woods beyond the tire swing,

in what used to be my grandmother's land.

God's edges are like the voices of old friends,

old lovers, people long gone but not forgotten.

God's edges are not sharp or angled.

The edges of God are well worn by practice

and prayer and forgotten possibilities

about to be remembered.

God's edges are the wrists of someone

you don't quite recall but can't ever remove from your heart.

 

God's edges are rimmed and circled

with bracelets of paradox and happenstance

and accidents with meaning.

 

God is edged with sunshine,

rainbows,

over-ripe, fallen apples, crushed beneath your feet

and the bees hovering around them.

 

God's edges hold storm clouds too--

the Storm of the Century coming fast,

tsunamis and tornadoes, spinning out of control.

 

Blood from God's hands—now there's an edge of God

to ponder, reach for, then snatch your hand away.

God bleeding is an astonishing thought.

God bleeding can help my unbelief.

 

And most, most of all,

the edges of God are God's tears.

Tears of frustration, longing, loss, deep pain,

profound joy, wonder and astonishment--

tears that heal and relieve and comfort...

and disturb the Cosmos.

 

That's what I believe in:

God's tears.