Sermon for Sunday, 8 February 2015 (5th Sunday after Epiphany)

Sermon for Sunday, 8 February 2015
5th Sunday after Epiphany



The Rev. Carrie B. Smith

+++

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Living in Jerusalem can make the world feel very small.

Carrie with Diane's Aunt Gayle
Photo by Carrie Smith
Last week I welcomed a church group from the United States to Redeemer Church, a group which happened to include the aunt of my high school best friend. It was wonderful to be with someone who’s known me since I was thirteen years old—not an everyday experience when you’re living far away from family! It was fun to have our Oklahoma and Jerusalem worlds collide here, thirty years later, but then…things got even weirder. 

Someone in the group said “Did you say your parents live in Lubbock, Texas? We’re from Lubbock!” And then another woman asked, “Can I have a picture with you? My brother is friends with your dad!”  It’s a small, small world indeed!

There are many stories like this in Jerusalem, of course. Living in a city considered sacred to several of the world’s religions means we’re likely to run into a few familiar faces now and then. It doesn’t help that much of world politics seems to be in perpetual orbit around what happens in this city. It can seem we truly are living in the center of the universe, the navel of the world, the axis mundi

Most of the time, this “small world” reality feels good. It’s bit like being a celebrity—except that instead of being the celebrity, we’re living in one!

But there are others ways—less positive ways—in which the world feels small.

Most days, the “world” equals my side of the city, my neighborhood, my grocery store, the gate I like to use, the checkpoint I think will be fastest, the languages I speak.

Most days, the “world” equals my list of tasks to accomplish, my favorite falafel stand, my plans for dinner, my colleagues, my sending organization, my opinion on the conflict.

And for others, our neighbors, the world is even smaller, reduced to my side of the wall, the roads I’m allowed to travel, the territories I’m allowed to inhabit, the sites I’m able to visit.

Living in this place that feels like the center of the universe does not guarantee us a bigger view of the world, but rather often means we have a much, much smaller one. In fact, the realities of life here can make it tempting to want to keep our head down, our eyes averted, our hearts protected, and our worlds small, as a way to guard against the relentless human drama of conflict, hate, and violence.

But now and again, something changes our focus, correcting our voluntary near-sightedness. It happened for me again last week as I chatted with that same group of church visitors. As usual, this group wanted to know what it was like to be a pastor here, and even more, what it’s like to be a Christian. But then they asked those questions we all likely dread: “Is peace possible? What can we do? Who should we trust? What’s the solution?”

Six months into this life in Jerusalem, and I know enough to know these are questions I can’t answer. I honestly didn’t know what to say in the short two minutes that remained before these folks went back to their lives and their churches in Oklahoma and Texas. I stood thinking for a few moments too long, but even in my silence, something on my face must have conveyed my sadness and frustration. Something in my silence must have revealed the hopelessness that lurks in the corners of this place because just then, from the back pew, the local Arab Christian tour guide stood to speak. She said, “Can I give you some advice? Pray. Pray, and put your hope in the Lord. It’s easy to grow a hard heart in this place. It’s easy to lose sight of God.”

“It’s easy to lose sight of God.” That’s a strange thought, isn’t it, as we are gathered today in this place, so close to the holy sites of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam? It’s easy to lose sight of God. How can that be, when God seems to part of every tour, every conversation, and every facet of the conflict here? How can we lose sight of God, when God is the foundation of our very lives?

Dear sisters and brothers, whether we live in the holy city or our home city, the reality is that our worlds are often very small indeed, and we do lose sight of God. It’s not that God is not in the little things, but that those little things become our god. Every once in a while, we need something or someone to avert our eyes away from our own worries, our own tasks, our own tiny piece of the puzzle and see the world as the Creator sees it. Every once in a while, we need the big picture.

View of Jerusalem from my balcony
Photo by Carrie Smith

This is the gift Psalm 147 offers us today. With the words of this hymn, the psalmist helps us see the world from a God’s-eye view. Amidst the hustle and bustle of life in a conflicted city, and in the face of the world’s news of disease, extremism, and disaster, this psalm is a view of the sunset from my 3rd floor balcony in Musrara; it’s the view of the Dome of the Rock from the Mt of Olives. The psalmist gives us a view of the ocean and clouds from the airplane window, and invites us to sing:

“Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God; for he is gracious, and a song of praise is fitting.”

Hear again the words of this psalm:

2The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel.
3He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.

As I look out at you today, I see people who spend their days and nights working to minister to the outcasts, to heal the broken and to bind up the wounds left by conflict and war. Your hearts and hands are the heart and hands of Christ in this place—and yet, the big picture view offered by Psalm 147 reminds us that it is not all in your hands. I probably don’t need to remind you that this job is bigger than you. But so is our God, and it is God who will ultimately bring home all who have been cast out, who will heal all that is broken, and will bring us lasting peace.

4He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names.

Friends, God’s “big picture view” does not mean we have a God who is aloof and distant. God the Creator has named every star in the sky; in baptism, God calls every one of us beloved; God even knows the number and name of every cat in every alley in Jerusalem! Amen! Most importantly, through our Lord Jesus Christ’s suffering on the cross we have seen that God’s heart breaks over each of 504 children killed in Gaza, and every kidnapped Nigerian girl, and over every victim of violence and terror in every part of the world.

5Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure.
6The Lord lifts up the downtrodden; he casts the wicked to the ground.

The conflict in this place (and indeed, the current situation across the world) encourages us to see the world as sharply divided into right and wrong, just and unjust, righteous and unrighteous. Faced with shocking examples of violence and equally violent and dehumanizing policies, we can find ourselves attracted to positions of certainty. I think it’s important to recognize that we are not immune to the lures of extremism. Psalm 147 reminds us that while our understanding both of war and its resolution is limited, God’s understanding is beyond measure—and it is God alone who will cast the wicked to the ground. Our call is to be extremists for love.

7Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre.
8He covers the heavens with clouds, prepares rain for the earth, makes grass grow on the hills.
9He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry.

The last few days of weather in Jerusalem have given us plenty of reasons to sing with thanksgiving and to make music to our God! Words cannot adequately capture the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the early-blooming flowers, and the brightness of the smiles on nearly everyone’s face. Even the promise of snow in the forecast this week (or, as I have heard it described, a “wintry mix!”) cannot dampen our spirits. Days like these are like miniature psalms in themselves, inviting us to sing along with joy over God’s creation. Praise the Lord!

Finally, hear again these words of Psalm 147:

10His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner;
11but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.

Sisters and brothers, this invitation to see the big picture is not an appeal to complacency. This is not a call to “let go and let God” – for we know that in Christ we are raised to new life in order to love and serve our neighbor, as when Simon’s mother in law was restored to health to minister to Jesus and his disciples. Seeking a “God’s eye view” of the world—and of this city—does not release us from our duty to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God; nor does it negate our baptismal call to proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace.

However, this psalm and the view it offers us is a gift, in that it reminds us how God’s love for us is not based on our might, our intelligence, our effectiveness, or our efficiency. God is not reserving judgment on your worth based on whether the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is resolved on your watch. From the view of Psalm 147 we see that God the Creator takes delight in those who fear him. We see that we please God when we make our home in the love, kindness, mercy, and beauty of God. And we know that however big the world’s problems seem, and however small we might feel, God is bigger. We know that good is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate, light is stronger than darkness, and life is stronger than death!

Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God!
Praise the Lord for sunshine! 
Praise the Lord for strength and health! 
Praise the Lord for safe travels! 
Praise the Lord for meaningful work! 
Praise the Lord for the promise of peace with justice! 
Praise the Lord for the cross and for the resurrection! 
Praise the Lord for the Holy Spirit in this place and with these people!  
Praise the Lord that although our vision is limited, God sees the big picture! 

Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God; for he is gracious, and a song of praise is fitting. Amen.


Comments