“For This Time”
Ezekiel 1:28-2:5
Mark 6:1-13
If you’ve been at First Church for any length of time, and if you’ve paid more than passing attention to my preaching, you know that I’m not one of those preachers whose sermons follow a clear, predictable structure. No a-joke-or-a-story, then-three-key-points-and-maybe-a-prayer sermons for me.
Truth is, I almost never outline my sermons. I meditate, pray, and listen for the Spirit’s prompting for a beginning focus, and then I try to keep listening and keep following Spirit’s prompting as I go. Rarely do I know how a sermon will end when I begin it.
(You can let me know if that works for you or not.)
All of which is to say that on the extremely rare occasions when I do use something resembling an outline, when I do try to make three or more clear, distinct points, the circumstances must be unusual, if not dire.
In those cases, I have said to God, in so many words, “This is a tough one, and I need more help than usual in trying to make some sense out of these scriptures, what’s happening in the world and in our lives, or all of the above. I want to stay open to your leading, but just to make it easier for myself and others to hear you, I need to try to organize some thoughts. Please help me.”
And that, my friends, is where we are this morning—or at least where I was this past week.
And so I will not be speaking directly about prophets of God, hard and rebellious hearts, or those who are offended by the very idea of regular people who seem to have encountered a God who is more open-hearted and open-minded than they are.
Nor will I be speaking directly about the very real dangers of Christian nationalism, or those who would violate constitutional rights and subvert democratic systems in God’s name. I will not go into my thoughts about whether we should be more upset by the presidential candidate and convicted felon who tells lies and spreads disinformation with authority or the presidential candidate who governs relatively well but has trouble on a debate stage. I will not get started on a high court that rules that presidential actions are above the law.
But I do want to acknowledge the various feelings and thoughts many of us are having about it all. I don’t presume to know exactly how you’re feeling, and it’s certainly not my place to suggest what you should think about it—though it did occur to me that perhaps what we need most is a time of open lament and fervent prayer.
Yet I think it is my responsibility to offer some pastoral guidance in how we might navigate these challenging times as people of faith, people who understand that putting country above God or trying to make God an instrument of country violates the very first of the Ten Commandments that some would have posted in public school classrooms. We are people of faith trying to discern what it means to follow Jesus—even as a certain version of Jesus has been weaponized by supporters of one political party. We are people of faith who want our faith to inform every aspect of our lives, including our politics, and yet some of us are more comfortable thinking of ourselves as activists, good neighbors, and engaged citizens who just happen to be people of faith.
It is a lot to sort through and work out, especially when the circumstances are shifting almost daily and the stakes are so extremely high—for the Earth and future generations; for the poor, people of color, and queer folks; and for immigrants and people suffering the hellscape of war or living under repressive regimes.
Given that, I want to suggest three general ways we can live faithfully during these times: The first is to stay grounded; the second is to resist temptation; and the third is to pray—and trust—without ceasing.
Let’s consider them one at a time:
Staying grounded in God is a fundamental spiritual practice at all times, but it’s especially important during times of stress, conflict, and uncertainty. And to stay grounded spiritually, we need some spiritual practices—prayer, meditation, spiritual reading and reflection, worship, time in nature, wonder. This might be a good time to go back to the Barbara Brown Taylor book, An Altar in the World, to renew our motivation to be more intentional about spiritual practice.
By God’s grace and with our intentional practices, we can stay grounded in the extravagant welcome, healing love, and empowering presence of God—even as circumstances and feelings change. While forces largely beyond our control struggle for control of political, economic, and cultural systems, we can stay grounded in the hope of the realm of God. We can stay grounded and keep our eyes on the prize of the shared purpose that builds up, the love that lifts up, and the values that bring us together rather than divide us.
We can stay grounded in God’s goodness by looking for, focusing on, and celebrating every sign of love, justice, hope, and progress that we see, no matter how small. Just as Jesus ignored his detractors and sent his disciples out in pairs to preach, heal, and love, we can focus on continuing to care for one another, build community, offer hope, and share God’s peace during these times.
Another way to live faithfully in these times is to resist the temptation to fall into us-them, either-or, black-and-white, all-or-nothing, dualistic thinking. We can resist the temptation to put more weight on what a certain political analyst, talking head, or historian would would do than on what Jesus would do. We can resist the temptation to double-down on what we think or where we were going, especially when such doubling down represents what psychologists call “escalation of commitment to a losing course of action.” We can resist the temptation to continue doing things the way they’ve always been done. We can resist the temptation to leave Spirit out of our thinking and planning and actions.
And, third, we can commit ourselves to praying—and trusting—without ceasing—not only as a way of staying grounded but also as a way keeping our hearts and minds open to the movement of Spirit. We can pray alone or with others; we can pray early and often. When we are tempted to panic or to spend all our time following and worrying about the latest developments, we can pray for wisdom, compassion, clarity, integrity, and truthfulness for elected officials, candidates and their families and advisors, influence groups, journalists, judges, and activists.
Whenever we feel ourselves sliding toward discouragement and despair, we can pray for the grace to trust that, even now, the Spirit of love and hope, healing and power is at work in the world. Whenever we find ourselves feeling angry, we can look for healthy ways to express our anger. Whenever we catch ourselves grieving a loss that hasn’t happened yet, we can pray for the strength to keep building community and working for good.
We can pray without ceasing that good people—people who care deeply about justice and peace and the welfare of the vulnerable and the care of the Earth—will come together and rise up. We can pray for courage and hope, persistence and the wisdom to know when change is necessary. We can, as always, pray for one another and our church.
We can make our lives—everything we do—a prayer for the healing, wholeness, well-being and peace of all. We can, and must, put our prayers into action.
Finally, we can give thanks that because of the times we are in, many people are coming to realize what we in the church have known for a very long time: that community is everything.
So let us press on—grounded in God, holding onto one another, trusting that Love will guide us and be with us always.
Amen.
