"Where Do We Go From Here?"
6-22-14 (Proper 7A/Ordinary 12A, Semi-Continuous)
Genesis 21:8-21; Matthew 10:24-39
Where Do We Go From Here?
As Hagar was trudging through the desert, as she stopped to take a drink and felt the last bit of water trickle into her mouth from the skin Abraham had laid over her shoulder, as she looked at her precious child, Ishmael, and saw his own parched face looking back up at her, she must have asked the question: Where do we go from here? Where do we go when the water is gone, when the desert is harsh and unforgiving? What are we supposed to do when we have no home, no shade, no hope? She prayed to God - the same God who had told her to go back to Sarah on pleading knees only such a short time ago, the same God who had promised her that Ishmael would be the first of a great multitude - and her prayer wasn’t “Why?” It wasn’t “Please get us out of this.” She didn’t know what else to pray, except, “Please don’t let me watch my child die out here.” She didn’t know where else to turn, where else to go.
I imagine it must have been just as bewildering for the disciples - Jesus has gathered his chosen twelve together and now he is sending them out on their own for the first time, telling them to go out to the Jewish villages and synagogues, to cast out unclean spirits, to heal diseases and afflictions. He sends them out to the lost sheep of Israel, but he sends them out as sheep among wolves - he tells them they’ll face danger, persecution, flogging, and even death. He tells them that he hasn’t come to bring peace, but to bring a sword, to divide households and families, to set fathers and sons against one another. He tells them that they have to love him more than their own families, that they will need to take up crosses and bear them for his own sake. That in order to gain eternal life, they have to give up on this one.
They had to have wondered, after Jesus had said all these things to them and sent them out to start on their ministries: Where do we go from here? Where do we go when the road is uncertain, the people unfriendly, and the result of our work possibly being our own deaths? What are we supposed
to do when all we have to our name are the sandals on our feet and the tunic on our backs?
We have to wonder ourselves, as we hear the reports coming in on some rather controversial decisions from the General Assembly - as some celebrate and others express their frustration and anger over the decisions that have been made in Detroit, as the debates continue going back and forth in our congregations and our denomination, as people in the church feel both excitement and pain, betrayal and affirmation, and we see a very literal divide between fathers and sons, mothers and daughters over the issues of our day. And we wonder - where do we go from here? What do we do when the church we’ve known and loved is no longer the church of today? What do we do when members of our own body need our compassion and understanding, when they feel betrayed or we find ourselves differing so strongly with one another that we’re not sure what even to say anymore? How do we remain sheep in this world of wolves without being ourselves devoured? How do we carry the gospel out to communities in which the church as we’ve always known it is losing its viability? What do we do when people decide to leave the church when they disagree with it, when the church continues to fracture and split and people outside of the church hesitate to accept a gospel that proclaims the church as the body of Christ because they see a church that has trouble even agreeing amongst themselves?
God speaks to Hagar through the angel: “Do not be afraid.” God shows Hagar a well of deep water from which she can drink so that she no longer has to worry about watching her child die. God reminds Hagar that God promised to make a nation of Ishmael, and tells her to hold him tightly by the hand and to lift him up. In the face of Hagar’s despair, God offers nothing but hope.
Jesus tells the disciples: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Jesus tells them that in order to gain life, they have to be willing to give theirs up. He offers hope despite uncertainty - if not even a sparrow falls without God’s notice, then how much more value do each of you have, who are created in God’s image and made for God’s own glory? Jesus doesn’t promise a faith that is sunshine and daisies; he promises the Kingdom, which comes at the price of everything - but gives us everything back and more in return.
So the question still remains: where do we go from here? What do we do, and how do we carry on? There are no easy answers, but then Jesus doesn’t promise easy answers in the first place. Jesus only offers us the promise that, above everything else, we are God’s and we are valued by God. And in knowing that we are valued, knowing that God has called us, that God truly loves us, nothing else does matter. And so we have to be able to let go. We have to be bold enough to let go of whatever kingdoms we’ve established for ourselves. We have to abandon that deep instinct to hold on to the power structures that we’ve established, to ignore the push from the world around us that tells us that when we have something, we need to do everything in our power to keep it. We need to abandon our own kingdoms and embrace Christ’s Kingdom. We need to release our grasp on things that were never really ours in the first place, giving them back into the hands of the One who entrusted them to us in the first place. We have to be willing to give up our own power, to let ourselves diminish completely, and to let Christ be magnified within us until we become but reflections of Christ to the rest of the world. And we have to trust that the God who values us above all the rest of Creation, the same God that entered into loving relationship with us, even becoming one of us, will provide us with something even greater than the sum of all that we have abandoned.
Where do we go from here? We go with God, as we have always gone - knowing that no matter what the twists and turns, no matter the rough roads we face and the challenges that come our way, our God is greater - and our God leads us ever onward in the power of God’s love. To God be the Glory. Amen.
Genesis 21:8-21; Matthew 10:24-39
Where Do We Go From Here?
As Hagar was trudging through the desert, as she stopped to take a drink and felt the last bit of water trickle into her mouth from the skin Abraham had laid over her shoulder, as she looked at her precious child, Ishmael, and saw his own parched face looking back up at her, she must have asked the question: Where do we go from here? Where do we go when the water is gone, when the desert is harsh and unforgiving? What are we supposed to do when we have no home, no shade, no hope? She prayed to God - the same God who had told her to go back to Sarah on pleading knees only such a short time ago, the same God who had promised her that Ishmael would be the first of a great multitude - and her prayer wasn’t “Why?” It wasn’t “Please get us out of this.” She didn’t know what else to pray, except, “Please don’t let me watch my child die out here.” She didn’t know where else to turn, where else to go.
I imagine it must have been just as bewildering for the disciples - Jesus has gathered his chosen twelve together and now he is sending them out on their own for the first time, telling them to go out to the Jewish villages and synagogues, to cast out unclean spirits, to heal diseases and afflictions. He sends them out to the lost sheep of Israel, but he sends them out as sheep among wolves - he tells them they’ll face danger, persecution, flogging, and even death. He tells them that he hasn’t come to bring peace, but to bring a sword, to divide households and families, to set fathers and sons against one another. He tells them that they have to love him more than their own families, that they will need to take up crosses and bear them for his own sake. That in order to gain eternal life, they have to give up on this one.
They had to have wondered, after Jesus had said all these things to them and sent them out to start on their ministries: Where do we go from here? Where do we go when the road is uncertain, the people unfriendly, and the result of our work possibly being our own deaths? What are we supposed
to do when all we have to our name are the sandals on our feet and the tunic on our backs?
We have to wonder ourselves, as we hear the reports coming in on some rather controversial decisions from the General Assembly - as some celebrate and others express their frustration and anger over the decisions that have been made in Detroit, as the debates continue going back and forth in our congregations and our denomination, as people in the church feel both excitement and pain, betrayal and affirmation, and we see a very literal divide between fathers and sons, mothers and daughters over the issues of our day. And we wonder - where do we go from here? What do we do when the church we’ve known and loved is no longer the church of today? What do we do when members of our own body need our compassion and understanding, when they feel betrayed or we find ourselves differing so strongly with one another that we’re not sure what even to say anymore? How do we remain sheep in this world of wolves without being ourselves devoured? How do we carry the gospel out to communities in which the church as we’ve always known it is losing its viability? What do we do when people decide to leave the church when they disagree with it, when the church continues to fracture and split and people outside of the church hesitate to accept a gospel that proclaims the church as the body of Christ because they see a church that has trouble even agreeing amongst themselves?
God speaks to Hagar through the angel: “Do not be afraid.” God shows Hagar a well of deep water from which she can drink so that she no longer has to worry about watching her child die. God reminds Hagar that God promised to make a nation of Ishmael, and tells her to hold him tightly by the hand and to lift him up. In the face of Hagar’s despair, God offers nothing but hope.
Jesus tells the disciples: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Jesus tells them that in order to gain life, they have to be willing to give theirs up. He offers hope despite uncertainty - if not even a sparrow falls without God’s notice, then how much more value do each of you have, who are created in God’s image and made for God’s own glory? Jesus doesn’t promise a faith that is sunshine and daisies; he promises the Kingdom, which comes at the price of everything - but gives us everything back and more in return.
So the question still remains: where do we go from here? What do we do, and how do we carry on? There are no easy answers, but then Jesus doesn’t promise easy answers in the first place. Jesus only offers us the promise that, above everything else, we are God’s and we are valued by God. And in knowing that we are valued, knowing that God has called us, that God truly loves us, nothing else does matter. And so we have to be able to let go. We have to be bold enough to let go of whatever kingdoms we’ve established for ourselves. We have to abandon that deep instinct to hold on to the power structures that we’ve established, to ignore the push from the world around us that tells us that when we have something, we need to do everything in our power to keep it. We need to abandon our own kingdoms and embrace Christ’s Kingdom. We need to release our grasp on things that were never really ours in the first place, giving them back into the hands of the One who entrusted them to us in the first place. We have to be willing to give up our own power, to let ourselves diminish completely, and to let Christ be magnified within us until we become but reflections of Christ to the rest of the world. And we have to trust that the God who values us above all the rest of Creation, the same God that entered into loving relationship with us, even becoming one of us, will provide us with something even greater than the sum of all that we have abandoned.
Where do we go from here? We go with God, as we have always gone - knowing that no matter what the twists and turns, no matter the rough roads we face and the challenges that come our way, our God is greater - and our God leads us ever onward in the power of God’s love. To God be the Glory. Amen.
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