Knowing & Hearing - My 9th Sermon @ Dana College
(Isaiah 40: 21-31) Knowing & Hearing
Stop for a moment. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Count to ten.
How are you feeling? Perhaps that brief pause was enough and you’re feeling a little more relieved. Perhaps not. In the last month or so, I’ve felt enormously tired. I suspect that we all have felt weary and exhausted. Things tend to pile up. Our situations can somehow go from routine to …. Unexpected. Life can seamlessly transition from simple and ordinary to strained chaos. There’s been a recent strain of colds meandering its way throughout the campus. The musical just opened this past weekend. Cast and crew putting in hours on top of hours. Our mid-terms just got finished. Don’t even get me started on that. Students had to navigate through an endless maze of papers, presentations, exams, and pages upon pages of reading. Our professors didn’t have it much easier. They grade our papers, assess our presentations, construct and grade our examinations, and read the same pages we do while constantly looking for questions or tidbits that will increase the likelihood of knowledge sticking in our heads. After midterms, they have to run all our numerical worth through weighted averages and other equations. They turn in the grades. They adjust syllabi to fit as much of the subject matter as they are able into the remaining days of class. They meet with concerned students and help them ‘get back on track’. Aside from the academic life, we all have our ‘other’ mode. We worry about bills. We strain against colds or allergies. We stress over the uncertainty of the future. We cram in hours at work. We try to stay on our toes against the possibility of the unexpected injury or car trouble. We try to find the time in the midst of everything to sit down and cram the daily allotted amount of vitamins, minerals, etc. into our systems. Overall, I think it might take a little bit more than counting to ten; briefly pausing our week to regain our equilibrium and our footing.
The strain of life usually gives one pause as to why things feel as they so frequently do. Is it because of our own anxiety and worrying, like Matthew Willard preached earlier this month? Is it because we can’t find the right scheduling for all our stuff? Do we spend too much time and effort in those places where we probably shouldn’t? Is there a God up there who blows on us and makes us whither? Probably not, but the reasons for our strain are often very contextual and rather diverse. Hunting down the reason, the cause behind one ingredient of our strained existence may help in one small way. But the overall unbearable tension of life still has a way of sneaking up on us. In J.R.R Tolkien’s “The Fellowship of The Ring”, Bilbo Baggins says, “I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can’t be right. I need a change, or something.” I think this realization is one that describes the strain of life rather well. We know that this can’t be right, that we need a change. Maybe it’s not that we need a change, but that we need something. To put it more pointedly, we need someone.
In our reading this afternoon, the prophet Isaiah is proclaiming the word of the Lord to the people of Israel who have seen better days. The chosen people of God have been taken captive by the Babylonians and have been there for quite some time. They’ve got to be wondering where God is, where God has gone, and if God has forgotten about them. Through the prophet, God calls to them. ‘Have ye not known? Have ye not heard?’ He calls to his people; reminding them of his steadfast nature, of his awesome power, of his magnificent love. It’s easy to look back on the Israelites and think, ‘how on the earth did they forget about God’s love for them?’ We’d like to think that they’re forgetful and we’re completely different. But when our troubles, anxieties, doubts, and fears take hold of us, like Peter on the water, we focus on the waves and feel ourselves sinking. We become no different than these forgetful Israelites. We may become angry as we despair, as we sink in the hardship of life. We may curse God for letting the unexpected happen to us, for letting us walk into situations where we are neglected, oppressed, and broken. But perhaps this is a necessary brokenness.
Perhaps the hardships are a necessity. Perhaps it’s for a reason that we are broken and spilled out, so that through Christ, God can restore us. In the prophet Hosea, God speaks tenderly to his people and calls them back to a loving relationship. Perhaps this emptiness we feel is necessary so that we can rejoice when we are filled and renewed by God. Perhaps we are called to go through this process. (Pause) I do not think that we are called to continue walking our way into situations where we get busted up, even if this is with the knowledge that God will bandage our wounds. God is faithful and merciful. He will heal and restore us despite our inability to stay away from trouble. But I think that this cyclical nature of emptiness into fullness into emptiness again is something that we are called to live as Christ’s servants. In the 55th chapter of Isaiah, God asks his people “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” It would be easy for us to regard such a question and the questions of today’s reading as sort of condescending. I’m often reminded of the parental admonitions of my youth. “Tom, why on earth did you ride your bike down the stairs? Don’t you know that’s ridiculously unintelligent?” or “Son, what made you think that peanut butter and jelly is a good flavor for oatmeal?” However, I don’t think that God is speaking to Israel or to us in such a manner. I think his purpose is to be a gentle reminder and to offer reassurance.
God has revealed himself to us through his magnificent creation, through our talents, through the love of our friends and family, and ultimately through the life, death, and resurrection of his son. We do our best to respond to this love with selfless discipleship, but sometimes despite our best intentions we become bogged down. We forget the transformational goodness of our Lord. It is in these moments of uncertainty when we must give ourselves time to pause and listen for the voice of God calling to us. “I love you. Though you have forgotten me and my everlasting love for you, I have not and will never forget you. I will be here to magnificently renew and restore you. I have something new for you that will bring you healing and hope.”
In response to God’s question of why we seek after those things that do not satisfy, we are reminded of Jesus’ words in John 6: 35, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” One of my favorite places to eat in Omaha is Jimmy John’s, home of the ‘world’s greatest gourmet sandwiches’. A slogan is displayed on one of the many signs in Jimmy John’s which reads, “Jimmy John’s - Tasting Is Believing”. God continually calls to us, reminding us that we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He calls us to remember the selfless grace of His son that satisfies our every need. As his children, who have tasted and who believe … we are called to feed one another, our friends, our coworkers, strangers, and even our enemies. So that in the midst of those times in life that make us all weary and faint, they may be satisfied through Christ’s love and given the peace which passes all understanding. Amen.
Stop for a moment. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Count to ten.
How are you feeling? Perhaps that brief pause was enough and you’re feeling a little more relieved. Perhaps not. In the last month or so, I’ve felt enormously tired. I suspect that we all have felt weary and exhausted. Things tend to pile up. Our situations can somehow go from routine to …. Unexpected. Life can seamlessly transition from simple and ordinary to strained chaos. There’s been a recent strain of colds meandering its way throughout the campus. The musical just opened this past weekend. Cast and crew putting in hours on top of hours. Our mid-terms just got finished. Don’t even get me started on that. Students had to navigate through an endless maze of papers, presentations, exams, and pages upon pages of reading. Our professors didn’t have it much easier. They grade our papers, assess our presentations, construct and grade our examinations, and read the same pages we do while constantly looking for questions or tidbits that will increase the likelihood of knowledge sticking in our heads. After midterms, they have to run all our numerical worth through weighted averages and other equations. They turn in the grades. They adjust syllabi to fit as much of the subject matter as they are able into the remaining days of class. They meet with concerned students and help them ‘get back on track’. Aside from the academic life, we all have our ‘other’ mode. We worry about bills. We strain against colds or allergies. We stress over the uncertainty of the future. We cram in hours at work. We try to stay on our toes against the possibility of the unexpected injury or car trouble. We try to find the time in the midst of everything to sit down and cram the daily allotted amount of vitamins, minerals, etc. into our systems. Overall, I think it might take a little bit more than counting to ten; briefly pausing our week to regain our equilibrium and our footing.
The strain of life usually gives one pause as to why things feel as they so frequently do. Is it because of our own anxiety and worrying, like Matthew Willard preached earlier this month? Is it because we can’t find the right scheduling for all our stuff? Do we spend too much time and effort in those places where we probably shouldn’t? Is there a God up there who blows on us and makes us whither? Probably not, but the reasons for our strain are often very contextual and rather diverse. Hunting down the reason, the cause behind one ingredient of our strained existence may help in one small way. But the overall unbearable tension of life still has a way of sneaking up on us. In J.R.R Tolkien’s “The Fellowship of The Ring”, Bilbo Baggins says, “I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can’t be right. I need a change, or something.” I think this realization is one that describes the strain of life rather well. We know that this can’t be right, that we need a change. Maybe it’s not that we need a change, but that we need something. To put it more pointedly, we need someone.
In our reading this afternoon, the prophet Isaiah is proclaiming the word of the Lord to the people of Israel who have seen better days. The chosen people of God have been taken captive by the Babylonians and have been there for quite some time. They’ve got to be wondering where God is, where God has gone, and if God has forgotten about them. Through the prophet, God calls to them. ‘Have ye not known? Have ye not heard?’ He calls to his people; reminding them of his steadfast nature, of his awesome power, of his magnificent love. It’s easy to look back on the Israelites and think, ‘how on the earth did they forget about God’s love for them?’ We’d like to think that they’re forgetful and we’re completely different. But when our troubles, anxieties, doubts, and fears take hold of us, like Peter on the water, we focus on the waves and feel ourselves sinking. We become no different than these forgetful Israelites. We may become angry as we despair, as we sink in the hardship of life. We may curse God for letting the unexpected happen to us, for letting us walk into situations where we are neglected, oppressed, and broken. But perhaps this is a necessary brokenness.
Perhaps the hardships are a necessity. Perhaps it’s for a reason that we are broken and spilled out, so that through Christ, God can restore us. In the prophet Hosea, God speaks tenderly to his people and calls them back to a loving relationship. Perhaps this emptiness we feel is necessary so that we can rejoice when we are filled and renewed by God. Perhaps we are called to go through this process. (Pause) I do not think that we are called to continue walking our way into situations where we get busted up, even if this is with the knowledge that God will bandage our wounds. God is faithful and merciful. He will heal and restore us despite our inability to stay away from trouble. But I think that this cyclical nature of emptiness into fullness into emptiness again is something that we are called to live as Christ’s servants. In the 55th chapter of Isaiah, God asks his people “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” It would be easy for us to regard such a question and the questions of today’s reading as sort of condescending. I’m often reminded of the parental admonitions of my youth. “Tom, why on earth did you ride your bike down the stairs? Don’t you know that’s ridiculously unintelligent?” or “Son, what made you think that peanut butter and jelly is a good flavor for oatmeal?” However, I don’t think that God is speaking to Israel or to us in such a manner. I think his purpose is to be a gentle reminder and to offer reassurance.
God has revealed himself to us through his magnificent creation, through our talents, through the love of our friends and family, and ultimately through the life, death, and resurrection of his son. We do our best to respond to this love with selfless discipleship, but sometimes despite our best intentions we become bogged down. We forget the transformational goodness of our Lord. It is in these moments of uncertainty when we must give ourselves time to pause and listen for the voice of God calling to us. “I love you. Though you have forgotten me and my everlasting love for you, I have not and will never forget you. I will be here to magnificently renew and restore you. I have something new for you that will bring you healing and hope.”
In response to God’s question of why we seek after those things that do not satisfy, we are reminded of Jesus’ words in John 6: 35, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” One of my favorite places to eat in Omaha is Jimmy John’s, home of the ‘world’s greatest gourmet sandwiches’. A slogan is displayed on one of the many signs in Jimmy John’s which reads, “Jimmy John’s - Tasting Is Believing”. God continually calls to us, reminding us that we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He calls us to remember the selfless grace of His son that satisfies our every need. As his children, who have tasted and who believe … we are called to feed one another, our friends, our coworkers, strangers, and even our enemies. So that in the midst of those times in life that make us all weary and faint, they may be satisfied through Christ’s love and given the peace which passes all understanding. Amen.