Sermon for 7 February 2021
SERMON FOR SUNDAY
7 February 2021
Sermon for Sunday 7
February 2021
Lutheran Church of the
Redeemer, Jerusalem
The Rev. Carrie
Ballenger
Isaiah 40:21-31
21Have you not
known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have
you not understood from the foundations of the earth? 22It is he who sits above
the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who
stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live
in; 23who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as
nothing. 24Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem
taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the
tempest carries them off like stubble. 25To whom then will you compare me, or
who is my equal? says the Holy One. 26Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who
created these? He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all
by name; because he is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing.
27Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O
Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my
God”? 28Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting
God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his
understanding is unsearchable. 29He gives power to the faint, and strengthens
the powerless. 30Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall
exhausted; 31but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they
shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they
shall walk and not faint.
Gospel: Mark 1:29-39
29As soon as [Jesus and the disciples] left the synagogue, they entered
the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law
was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and
took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began
to serve them.
32That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or
possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And
he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons;
and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
35In the morning,
while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and
there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they
found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He answered,
“Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message
there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39And he went throughout
Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.
Prayer of the Day
Everlasting God, you
give strength to the weak and power to the faint. Make us agents of your
healing and wholeness, that your good news may be made known to the ends of
your creation, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.
Amen.
Grace and peace to you
from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Over the past week, I’ve been wrestling: not with God, or with the
devil, or with deep theological thoughts, but with four balls of wool. Handspun
wool, in fact, purchased on a whim this summer in Carmiel because of its
buttery soft feel and its gorgeous color which reminds me of the chocolate and
vanilla twist ice cream cones of my childhood summers.
As we approach the one-year anniversary of the first COVID lockdown in
Israel and Palestine, and as I have already passed the one-year anniversary of
the last time I saw my children, who live in Europe, I have wanted to see some
progress in just one thing in life. Knitting has long been my go-to
coping strategy to deal with this feeling. As a pastor, as a parent, and as a
human in this world, it’s often hard to quantify progress in my daily work, so at
the end of the day, it’s comforting to know I can sit down and knit purl knit
purl knit purl knit, and a short time later something exists that didn’t exist before:
a few inches of a scarf, or an entire dishcloth to use after dinner, or the
beginning of a hat for someone I love. One of my favorite mothers of the
church, Dorothy Day, wrote: “Knitting is very conducive to thought. It is nice
to knit a while, put down the needles, write a while, then take up the sock
again.” This has long been my strategy as well.
But this week, my strategy didn’t work. This particular wool just would
not behave. I ran out of yardage for the first project I attempted, so I
ripped it out and started over. The second project just looked…weird. So, rip
and begin again. The third attempt was such a disaster I can’t even talk about
it. Rip, rip, rip.
These days it seems the only one experiencing creativity and
productivity in the world is COVID! COVID apparently is part of some spectacular
start-up culture and is churning out new variants and strains at a
lightning-fast speed. Meanwhile, for me this week it felt like 1 step forward
and 2 steps back, no matter what I tried.
I know I said I was wrestling with wool and not with God, but maybe
that’s not entirely true. God and I had a few words as well this week.
Our first reading for this week, the last week of the season of Epiphany
before the Transfiguration, is one of my very favorites in all of Scripture,
but I was wrestling with it alongside those balls of wool. As it is written in
Isaiah chapter 40:
The LORD is the
everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.
Those who wait for the Lord shall walk and not faint, says the prophet
Isaiah.
They shall knit and not get frustrated.
They shall put on a mask and not feel suffocated.
They shall go to the grocery store and not be afraid.
They shall read the news and not be overwhelmed.
They shall run! They shall fly like eagles! They shall be strong, and
not tired.
Amen! Thanks be to God.
But this week, my conversation with God went like this:
You know what, God? I’m tired. I’m weary. I can’t fly anywhere, much
less fly with the eagles, because the airport closure in Israel has just been
extended for 2 more weeks.
Running would be a good idea, but probably I should start with walking,
as out of shape as I am. My pants would appreciate it, for sure. That is, if
I’m allowed to venture more than a kilometer from my home. Who knows, day to
day?
Still: They shall walk and not faint, insists the prophet of the Lord.
They shall run. They shall fly! They shall even rise.
Earlier this week I talked with a friend who has recently celebrated
more than two decades sober from drugs and alcohol, thanks be to God. When
asked about how it was possible, and whether it gets any easier over time, he
said it does get a little easier, but truly every day is the same. Every day is
about taking one step, and then another and then another. He mentioned the
description given by the author Anne Lamott (who was herself quoting her friend
Father Tom) who said that living sober is like this: “Left foot, right foot,
left foot, breathe. Right foot, left foot, right foot, breathe.” Then repeat.
In other words: They shall walk and not faint. And they shall rise.
This description really hit home for me this week. I thought about how
in this moment in time, things have changed so dramatically for most of us. We
don’t make big plans without checking the news. We don’t dream much about fancy
vacations, and certainly not about flying. Mostly, each day is like Father Tom
said: Left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe. Right foot, left foot, right
foot, breathe. And then, repeat.
We take a step, and then another. We walk, and we hope not to faint. We
hope not to get COVID! We hope not to lose faith. We hope to have our strength
renewed. We hope for things to get better. We hope to rise.
As I read this text from the prophet Isaiah from our current context, I
think about the community to whom it was written. These are not words written
in a vacuum. These are words written for a certain community at a certain time.
This is the prophet speaking to a community coming to the end of a long exile.
The Judeans have lived through trials and tribulations, through powerful rulers
who abused their power, through separation from the people and place they
loved, and now they are returning home…but while exile was difficult, the
return was not much better. Professor Christopher Hays from Fuller Seminary
writes about what Jerusalem was like in 530 BC, at the end of the Babylonian
exile:
“It was without a temple or effective walls; the comforts and
protections that a city would normally have afforded in the ancient world were
missing. In fact, the people had to cast lots to see who would live there, and
they “blessed all those who willingly offered to live in Jerusalem.” After
fifty or more years in exile, most of those returning would have hardly known
the place. Exile was hard, but returning was difficult, too.”
I must say, it’s good to hear that living in Jerusalem has always been a
bit complicated, as it is still today!
Also, it makes sense that the people would need to hear that even after
the long exile was over, God was with them. They were not walking alone, then
or now. They could trust the one who had been with them in the wilderness, who
had been with them through the isolation from their loved ones and their land.
When I read the news these days and hear that even with the vaccine, we
might not be out from under the threat of COVID for another several years, I am
reminded: We’re going to need to lean on the Lord for a long, long while.
And the prophet says:
They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
I notice that our reading today begins with the words:
Have you not known? Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from
the beginning?
Have you not understood from
the foundations of the earth?
This is a good reminder that these words were written to a community
that was struggling, even wrestling, with God: wrestling not only with life,
but with the promises of God. In other words, we are not the first people of
faith to doubt whether we can really fly, or run, or walk, whether we can make
it to the end of long and arduous trial.
We are also not the first followers of Jesus to wonder whether we can
really love our neighbor as ourselves, pray for the enemy who hates us, and
give to all who ask.
And still: God, says the prophet Isaiah, is bigger than all this mess.
God sits above the circle of the earth, and all of us—including those who claim
power on this earth—are nothing but grasshoppers in God’s sight. God is
greater. Love wins.
Above all—and this seems important for me today—it is the Lord God, the
Creator of the universe, the Incarnate and Crucified and Risen One—who never
grows weary.
Hear again verse 28:
Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his
understanding is unsearchable.
This is why, I think, it’s good to wrestle at times with Scripture.
Because I know these verses by heart, and still, I always think that it says it
is I who must not faint or grow weary. Verse 31 does say “those who wait
for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like
eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”
But it does not say I MUST BE strong. It says my strength WILL BE
renewed.
And, before all else, the prophet says:
The Lord is the everlasting God. (NOT ME! Thanks be to God!)
The LORD is the Creator of the ends of the earth.
And this Lord, the ground that we walk upon, the foundation of all
being, the love that knits us all together in one human fabric…this One does
not faint or grow weary.
I might be tired, but God is not.
I might be exhausted, but God’s love is not.
So here we go: left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe.
Knit, purl, knit, purl, knit. And repeat.
We shall walk, and not faint.
May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and
minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
Lord, I was a pile of ash
and you made me a light for the world.
I was a stone,
and you made me salt for the earth.
I was as lifeless as clay
and you made me part of the Body of Christ.
I was sinful
and you made me holy.
I was nothing
and you made me part of everything.
Lord, in you I am transformed
and transformed still again.
When the discouraged cry for hope, make me hope.
When the hungry cry for bread, make me bread.
When the thirsty cry for water, make me water.
When the suffering cry for help, make me help.
When the sick cry for healing, make me healing.
When the bound cry for freedom, make me freedom.
When the outcasts cry for love, make me love.
Lord who is hope
who is bread and water,
who is help and healing,
who is freedom,
and who is love,
transform me anew,
and so keep me close to you,
as you transform the world. Amen.
~ posted on the Catholic Relief Services website. https://www.crs.org/resource-center/
Blessing
God the creator strengthen you;
Jesus the beloved fill you;
and the Holy Spirit the comforter ☩ keep you in peace.
Amen.
Dismissal
Go in peace. Be the light of Christ.
Thanks be to God.
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