"Hard-pressed and hopeful" Sermon for Sunday 20 September 2020
"Hard-pressed and hopeful"
Sermon for Sunday, 20 September 2020
Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem
The Rev. Carrie Ballenger
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Grace and peace to you from Jerusalem, the city of Our
Lord’s crucifixion and resurrection, and for the next few weeks: a city in
lockdown because of COVID-19.
Recently, the New York Times gathered and published
their readers’ 6-word memoirs of the first 6 months of this global pandemic:
(Thanks to Pastor Molly Phinney Baskette for sharing
these first!)
“Moved
back to California, yay! Oops.” Says Collins Flannery
in
Washington, D.C.
Mark in Milwaukee writes: “Tired of hearing, ‘Mark, you’re
muted.’”
And there’s more:
“Apparently,
rock bottom has a basement.”
“Grateful
for health, resources, family, friends.”
“New
baby. New mother. Absent grandmother.”
“My
dad’s last breath, on FaceTime.”
“Baking
bread didn’t cure my loneliness.”
“Happy
hour: when I say so.”
“Freedom
comes through following the rules”
“For
sale: spring workwear, never worn”
“Graduated
college in my living room”
And:
“My
dog loves having us home”
These succinct, 6-word memoirs are both uplifting and
heartbreaking, both encouraging and sobering. What a time we are living through!
I’m not sure I could describe my own experience of these last months in only 6
words (but then again, my job is to find and write and preach lots of words,
for better or for worse!)
But whenever I am stuck for words I most often turn to
Holy Scripture, and these last 6 months are no different. The psalms have been
a reliable go-to, as they almost always have something to say to any
circumstance.
But this week, as here in Israel and Palestine we have
just entered a 3 week lockdown (and particularly on this day, as I awoke to the
news of the death of the incomparable Ruth Bader Ginsburg) I’m feeling moved by
the words of the Apostle Paul to the Philippians. When he wrote this letter,
Paul himself was going through great adversity. He was writing from prison,
having been jailed by the authorities for his beliefs. His struggle was not the
same as ours—thankfully most of us are not being persecuted for our faith—and of
course Paul was not living through a global pandemic. But even so, because the
Bible is the Living Word of God, there is much truth and much encouragement for
us in Paul’s words today.
Friends, hear again today’s reading from the first
chapter of Philippians, in which Paul says:
I am hard
pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is
far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. Since I am
convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for
your progress and joy in faith, so that I may share abundantly in your boasting
in Christ Jesus when I come to you again.
Only, live
your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come
and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing
firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the
gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents. For them this is
evidence of their destruction, but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing.
Now, this is way more than a 6-word memoir. But to be
fair, Paul was imprisoned, and had lots of time to write.
Although I don’t view lockdown as persecution or
prison, but is actually godly love of neighbor in action, as I sit here
at the beginning of a extended time of isolation from my community, Paul’s
words speak to me. In fact, I could write them myself:
I, too, feel hard-pressed. Sometimes I want to give up!
To throw in the towel! To give in to the crushing load of worry and uncertainty
and cynicism about the future.
And then: I think of others. Of those in need. Of those
who hunger. Of those who are lonely. Of those who are oppressed and occupied.
Of those who have not yet heard the Good News that they are loved beyond
measure, exactly as they are.
I think of Christ, and his love for us—a love that
took him all the way to the cross, and beyond.
And for this reason, I stand firm in hope and
conviction. As Paul writes, together we are “standing firm in one spirit,
striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no
way intimidated by our opponents.”
And this: this is God’s doing. This is God’s doing,
dear friends!
In these difficult times, it has become so clear to me
that the strength and courage to stand, to strive, to hope, to love, can only
come from God.
It comes from God the Creator, who is love.
It comes from Jesus, our brother, who calls us to love
God, to love ourselves, and to love our neighbors—all of our neighbors.
And it comes from that notorious and disturbing
presence, the Holy Spirit, who never allows us to simply sit down and give in.
From prison, not knowing if he would ever be released
or how his story would end, Paul chose hope. He chose love and life, for the
sake of God and neighbor, saying:
“Since
I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you
for your progress and joy in faith.”
I know that I will remain and continue.
In this moment in time, I feel that this is where we
are today, friends.
Although we feel more and more isolated from one
another because of lockdowns, school closings, closed borders, and masks, the
truth is that God is calling us to not only lean into this moment but more
importantly to lean outward. Now more than ever, the faithful are called to
live and to love with abandon.
In a time when the right and loving thing to do is to create
distance between one another, at the same time we are being pushed beyond
our old limits and into new frontiers of love for others. As followers of Jesus
today, we must be even more convinced of the triumph of love over fear, of
truth over lies, of justice over oppression—and then, as Paul exhorted us, to
live in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ.
This is no easy thing. This is no easy moment.
Thankfully, we’re not in this alone. This is God’s
work—through us, with us, and in us.
Dear friends, I wonder:
What would your 6-word memoir of the last six months
be?
Or, perhaps more importantly:
What 6 words could you take with you in the months to
come, that will help you to stand, to strive, to hope?
I shared with church members here in Jerusalem at our
Book Club on Monday evening that lately I’ve been practicing a breath prayer
whenever anxiety about the future (or the present) tries to take over my body
or my mind. A breath prayer is one that you can use any time of day, when
walking, working, doing chores, or resting, or waking. You breathe in with the
first few words, and breathe out with the next, and repeat as needed. Most
often that prayer for me is one I learned long ago: breathing in “Jesus Christ,
Lamb of God” breathing out “have mercy on me, a sinner.” Yes, that’s more than
6 words!
But you get the idea.
Today, in light of Paul’s letter to the Philippians,
I’m thinking of adding these 6-words to my breath-prayer repertoire:
“I am hard-pressed, and choosing hope.” (2x)
Maybe you can try it with me: “I am hard-pressed, and
choosing hope.”
You know, if I were to write my 6-word memoir of the
last months, it might be this:
Miss my kids more than words.
Or:
I really like to bake bread!
But most importantly:
Jesus was in lockdown with me.
Jesus is in lockdown with me.
We are hard-pressed now, and we don’t know what we
might be asked to endure in the future. But we also don’t know what joys are to
come, what beauty there is to experience, what laughter might shake our bodies.
We have no idea what is about to turn in our nations, in our societies, in our
own hearts and bodies.
There are so many things we don’t know.
But we do know this: and here is my 6 word (ok, 9
word) thought for you today:
“You are still here! And this is God’s doing.”
May the peace of God which passes all understanding
keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
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