Today is certainly not the first time that I have preached under less than ideal circumstances. Some years ago, after a large snowstorm canceled Sunday morning services, I sat in my home office, preaching into a telephone that was connected to a local radio station for a live broadcast. It was an odd experience, sitting at my desk, in my stocking feet, and looking out the window at the snow, which was still falling in those moments. It was a beautiful sight, and I was encouraged not only by the beauty and calm of the falling snow, but also by the thought of those who were listening, knowing we were connected together even though we were not physically together. It wasn’t too bad to be in that situation on that day, as we expect snowstorms, and we know that every so often they will cause us to cancel worship. We do not, however, expect pandemics. There is nothing beautiful about the sight of these empty chairs. And while snow and ice melts and we move on, we do not know when this situation will end. It is because of the situation in which we now find ourselves that I have, probably not surprisingly, changed the message I had planned to present this morning.
We all have felt the uncertainty and stress of this moment. We are uneasy about what the coming days will bring. And so our Scripture text that I offer for the morning is one of my absolute favorites. It is one of my favorites because it comes from the letter of Paul to the Philippians. I love the book of Philippians because it is so encouraging and uplifting, even though it was written in very difficult circumstances. Hear the word of God, from Philippians 4:4-13 –
4Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!
5Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.
6Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
9Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it.
11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.
12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.
13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
I will admit to you that it felt very wrong to ask people not to come to church today. I have spent my life encouraging people to come to church, not to stay home, and it is the oddest feeling to be here today and to look upon all these empty chairs. I will also admit that there are times when I like the peace and quiet of the church when it is empty, which does not happen often. After our Christmas Eve service concludes, and everyone has left for home, and I close things down, I walk around and enjoy the stillness. After the whirlwind of Holy Week and Easter Sunday morning, I like the quiet of the church as it becomes still.
But this morning, I look around at these chairs and feel a great sadness. I came here yesterday, late in the afternoon, to prepare myself for this morning and for what it would be like to speak to empty chairs, and I thought I was prepared. But I stand here now, ten and a half years into my ministry to this church, and I could never have imagined that we would be where we are at this moment. I look at these chairs and think about the people who would be sitting in them. I look to my right, at the front row, and think of the youth, who are such an encouragement to me as I see them sitting there. I look at the rows behind them, and think of the others who fill those chairs in that section, in the middle, and to my left – (at this point I mentioned many of the members of the congregation, mentioning most of them off the top of my head, so I did not try to reproduce those names here). And many beyond those, and forgive me for not mentioning more, as it would take so long to name them all.
I turn around and see the empty choir chairs and miss those who would be there, bringing us their music, which lifts our souls. I think about the empty nursery and Sunday School rooms and feel a great sadness.
A great deal of the difficulty of the past few days is the speed at which everything has changed, and the increasing uncertainty about the days ahead. How long will cancellations last? How long before life will return to normal? What will normal be after these days? How much worse will things become? Will my family be okay? And a myriad of other questions come into our minds.
But we are together, in this moment, even though we are not together in this place. We are together through our bond in Christ and the fellowship of God’s Spirit. The church is not limited to a single place, to a specific moment, or to a particular building. This is the beauty of the church, and the beauty of God’s kingdom – we are connected regardless of the circumstances and in spite of what might make our common gathering impossible.
We are taught from a young age that the church is far more than a building. In moments such as this, however, we realize how important our building is to us, as it gives us a place to gather together, a place to worship as a family, a place to serve as the center point to our mission and ministry activities, a place where our children are baptized, a place to celebrate weddings, baby dedications, and so many of the other joys of life. It is a place where we say our final goodbyes to friends and loved ones, and a place where we now wish we could all gather together. But I feel your presence here. I see you still in these chairs before me. And I feel the presence of God here as well, holding us all together, calming our fears, lifting our anxieties and our worries, and binding us in his care and love.
When I was young, I would often accompany my parents to our church during the week. I always enjoyed going with them as they had various jobs in the church, and often went there to work when the building was otherwise empty and quiet. I would wander around the building but always made my way into the sanctuary, to enjoy the stillness, and also the light as it would shine through the stained-glass windows. Sometimes, in those moments, I would very hesitatingly step behind the pulpit and look out at the empty pews. I would wonder, given the opportunity, what I would say to the people who would fill the pews. When I stood behind that pulpit, in those moments, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I didn’t belong there. I was a child, not an adult, and not a minister, and it seemed a place I should not be. I have served in ministry almost forty years, and I will confess to you now, at times like this, that I still feel as though I do not belong behind the pulpit. Standing here, hoping and praying that God would speak through me to you, it is hard not to feel very inadequate, and very small in the face of this moment.
But here we are, and among the things I want to say to you in these moments is this – we have entered a time that will test the character of each of us. This is a time that will test the character of our church, this is a time that will test the character of our community, this is a time that will test the character of our state, this is a time that will test the character of our nation, and this is a time that will test the character of all of humanity. This is a time for us to rise above any of the things that divide us. This is a time to rise above the things that take our focus away from the sufferings of others. This is a time to rise above and rise up. Rise above the difficulties and rise up to bring the love, the compassion, and the hope of God to others.
Take to heart, today, and in the days to come, the words of James to consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing(James 1:1-4). We cannot change our circumstances, but we can determine how we will respond. Let us respond by becoming the hands and feet of Christ. Let us respond by becoming examples of God’s love. Let us respond by becoming hopeful. Let us be respond by being patient.
This is a time that will test faith, but this is also a time that allows us to prove the truth of the words that we have spoken for so long about who we are as God’s people and about the faith that we proclaim. There are many Biblical examples of the way God’s people have had their faith tested and found it to be strengthened by their trials.
When the Hebrew people were about to enter the Promised Land, so very long after the initial promise from God, Moses called for Joshua to come and meet with him. Joshua would become Moses’ successor, and it would be Joshua who would lead them into the Promised Land. Moses told him, be strong and courageous…the Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged(Deuteronomy 31:7-8).
There is so much that Moses could have said to Joshua, but did not. Here is what he said – be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Now, to be honest, if someone were to tell me those words right before sending me off on a mission, one of my first thoughts would be, um, that sounds like you are sending me off to something that is not exactly going to be easy. When it is necessary to tell someone to be strong and courageousand do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, those are not the words you use when you send someone of for a day at the beach.
But that is the nature of faith. It requires of us to be strong and courageous and to not be afraid or discouraged. We will feel, at times, our strength waver, and we will doubt our courage. There will be times when we sense the fear welling within us and that our courage is lacking. I’m sure many of God’s people have felt this way; actually, probably all of God’s people at some time in their lives. But they overcame. We all know, for instance, the story of Job and his suffering. And what did he say in the midst of all his most difficult moment? Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him(Job 13:15). Peter was arrested and put in prison (Acts 12:5-17). He kept the faith. Paul and Silas were arrested and put in prison (Acts 16:16-40). What did they do? Did they lose hope? No. They prayed and they sang hymns. The early church was for many years under persecution, and yet the church prospered and grew.
We have done very well in this country for many years. Our successes and our bounty, however, have never been a guarantee that we would not have difficulties come our way. In fact, maybe our successes and our bounty have lulled us into a false sense of security. Perhaps they have allowed us think that such things can’t happen here, to us. But we have been painfully reminded that pandemics do not recognize borders, or nationality, or race, or gender, or age, or political affiliation, or social status. It can come to anyone, or to all.
The question becomes, then, as this difficulty comes, what will we do, and what will it demonstrate about us? There will be lessons learned that perhaps could not be learned under any other circumstances. Many of us remember 9/11 and the days that followed. We remember the shock, the fear, and the uncertainty. We remember the ways in which people came together. And we look back and note that some of the lessons of that time have been forgotten. Perhaps that is because time does dull memories. New generations come along that did not know the fear and anxiety of that time, just as my generation did not know the difficulties of the World War II generation and of those who lived through the Great Depression. We were far too quick to discount their stories and what they learned. We did not know of the want and the lack, and the truth and reality behind the mottos of those times, such as waste not, want not. They were strengthened by their trials, and now, as a new time of trial has come, what will we learn? What will be demonstrated about who we are?
Tanya and I were in the catacombs in Rome almost five years ago. I wondered to myself, as we wandered through those narrow passageways, carved out of the volcanic rock and designed as tombs, how did they worship in such a place? They were forced into those grim tunnels because of the danger that came to them as a result of their faith. I will never forget the moment when, as I stood with our group in one of the rooms of the catacombs, hearing the group behind us, a bit further down the passageway. I slipped away from our group and walked quietly down the passageway to where the other group had gathered. They were in one of the larger rooms, where the early church gathered so many centuries ago. The group had gathered in a circle, joined hands, and were singing Amazing Grace. Though it was a song that came many years after those early followers of Jesus met in that place, I thought this is what it must have been like. Followers of Jesus, in the midst of such difficulty and trials, worshipping and praising God. Singing the songs of faith and filling with hope. They worshipped, not only in less than ideal circumstances, but in circumstances that must have seemed, at times hopeless to them. But they knew they were not without hope, and the church continued. And it not only continued; it prospered.
I am generally not a fan of clichés, but sometimes clichés become part of our language because they express what we need to hear. And so I will use one this morning – I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future. Wherever, or whenever, you are watching or reading this, say that with me – I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future. Say it again – I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.
The God that was with the Hebrews in their many years of bondage is with us in this moment. The God who led his people through the wilderness and into the Promised Land is the God who will lead us through this wilderness and into the promise of the future. The God who was with his people as they were taken into captivity in Babylon carried them back to their homes and is with us now and in the days ahead. The God who comforted Peter in prison and Paul and prison, as he wrote his letter to the Philippians, is the God who comforts us now. Amen. May it be so. God bless you, today and all days.
No comments:
Post a Comment