“All flesh is grass.” Have you heard that at a memorial service? That verse has been taken to say that human life is short, and that’s how the Greek version of Isaiah 40:6 reads. The Hebrew version says: all humans are unreliable. “Their chesed is like the flowers of the field… The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.” Chesed is used many times in the Hebrew bible, and it is usually translated love, or kindness, or steadfast love. Psalm 136 repeats twenty-six times: God’s steadfast love endures forever. God’s chesed endures forever. And, according to the prophet, ours does not...
If we are expecting people to satisfy our expectations for love and respect, says the prophet, we can expect to be disappointed. If we expect ourselves to be unfailingly loving and kind, well. What pushes your buttons? We all have buttons. The worst part is that when somebody provokes us, and we defend, it looks to the other person like attack. That’s how the downward spiral begins. But God’s steadfast love endures provocation. Relying on that love, we can halt the downward spiral. And this, my friends, is Good News indeed.
Full sermon below
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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ
December 10, 2017
December 10, 2017
Prepare for the Prince
of Peace
40:1 Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.
2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to
her
that she has served her term, that
her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the
LORD’S hand double for all her sins.
3 A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way
of the LORD,
make straight in the
desert a highway for our God.
4 Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and
hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become
level,
and the rough places a
plain.
5 Then the glory of the LORD shall be
revealed,
and all people shall see
it together,
for the mouth of the
LORD has spoken.”
6 A voice says, “Cry out!”
And I said, “What shall
I cry?”
All people are grass, their
constancy is like the flower of the field.
7 The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the LORD blows upon it;
surely the people are
grass.
8 The grass withers, the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand forever.
9 Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion,
herald of good tidings;
lift up your voice with
strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,
lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!”
10 See, the Lord GOD comes with might, and
his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
11 He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he
will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his
bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.
Welcome to the second Sunday of Advent, a season
for preparation, anticipation, and hope.
Today we lit the Advent candle of peace.
I want to ponder with you the hope we have for peace, since Jesus so
clearly teaches us to be peacemakers.
How can we prepare for peace?
That is a question worth pondering.
“Comfort, comfort, O my people.” The passage we heard from Isaiah is one of
the most familiar from the Hebrew bible.
As good poetry, it touches the heart.
These words spoke to the Jewish followers of Jesus as they tried to fit
him, and John the Baptist, into the framework of what they knew, or thought
they knew, of God. John the Baptist,
that unforgettable wild man, becomes this voice crying in the wilderness. All four gospels invoke this passage to
describe John the Baptist. It fits! A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
The writings of the biblical prophets usually fall
into one of two themes: afflicting the
comfortable, or comforting the afflicted.
Here in chapter 40 of Isaiah, the author was writing not to afflict the
movers and shakers of the little hill kingdom of Judah, but to comfort demoralized
exiles who had been taken from Judah to Babylon as the spoils of war. They were stunned, and utterly
demoralized. Had their God given up on
them? How could they sing the Lord’s
song in a strange land? (Psalm 137) They needed comfort. They needed hope. And so this passage closes with the assurance
that God still cares for the people, as a shepherd cares for his flock, up to
and including nestling lambs on his chest.
And in between the comfort and the lamb
cuddling, are two challenging metaphors: road construction, and people as grass.
The first metaphor: “All flesh is grass.” Has
anyone heard that at a memorial service? That verse has been taken to say that
human life is short, and that’s how the Greek Septuagint version of this
passage reads. The Hebrew version says: all
humans are unreliable. “Their chesed
is like the flowers of the field… The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our
God stands forever.” Chesed is used
many times in the Hebrew bible, and it is usually translated love, or kindness,
or steadfast love. Psalm 136 repeats twenty-six times: God’s steadfast love endures
forever. God’s chesed endures forever. And,
according to the prophet, ours does not.
We humans are not reliably loving or
kind. But God is, and God will nurture
and protect us. No wonder this passage
is a classic; it affirms what Jesus taught; the promise of reliable forgiveness
and reconciliation with God, despite our failings.
If we are expecting people to
satisfy our expectations for love and respect, says the prophet, we can expect
to be disappointed. If we expect ourselves
to be unfailingly loving and kind, well.
What pushes your buttons? We fail each other, and we fail God. The worst part is that when somebody provokes
us, and we defend, it looks to the other person like attack. That’s how the
downward spiral begins. But God’s steadfast love endures provocation. Relying on that love, we can halt the
downward spiral. And this, my friends,
is Good News indeed.
Nadia Bolz-Weber, the tattooed Lutheran pastor
of the House for All Sinners and Saints, gives an interesting orientation to
new members of her church. “Welcome to
our church,” she says. “We will disappoint you.” She wants
people in her church to know that her community will disappoint them. It’s a
matter of when, not if.” She explains, “We
will let them down or I’ll say something stupid and hurt their feelings. I then
invite them on this side of their inevitable disappointment to decide if
they’ll stick around after it happens.”
Her experience is that when we face our failings or disappointments
instead of walking away, that is when God can work in and through us, to do
some powerful transformation, and reconciliation, and healing. She’s Lutheran, so she calls it grace. All
flesh is grass. But God’s steadfast love endures forever.
The second metaphor in the reading is of road
construction.
3 A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way
of the LORD,
make straight in the
desert a highway for our God.
4 Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and
hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become
level,
and the rough places a
plain.
5 Then the glory of the LORD shall be
revealed,
This promise of restoration is also
a command from God: do the work. Build a
highway in the wilderness so God can get through to you. Road construction. Get out the earthmovers, which in those days
were brigades of people and animals with carts, and start building that
peaceable kingdom we say we want.
Bulldoze the mountains of pride and greed. Fill in the valleys of despair and
suffering. God wants to enter into our
lives: do we want to do the heavy construction work required to receive God’s
love fully? It sounded just as
improbable in the prophet’s day as it does today. And just as necessary.
Have you ever been on a really bad
road? Take the road to my mom’s old
house. This September I drove it,
hopefully for the last time. Four long miles
of hell. Deep potholes. Gorgeous
scenery, dirt and dust, sharp rocks that pop tires regularly, washboarding,
deep ruts. Also switchbacks, blind curves, and trucks coming at speed. And did
I mention the potholes? When my mom
drives it’s like watching her playing a video game, trying to weave the car
around the potholes that have scraped off her muffler. Inevitably, we land in some. I just hope not
to break a tooth. Nobody wanted to visit
my mom when she lived down that road from hell.
She was pretty isolated. She
moved to downtown Santa Cruz in September, and now she’s entertaining all her
friends and relatives. Anybody want to
buy a gorgeous house just 25 miles from Silicon Valley? It’s a screamin’
deal. She still hasn’t sold it. To my mom, oddly, that drive was no big
deal. When you endure something awful
long enough, it feels normal; it becomes your normal.
I am left pondering: what obstacles feel normal to us that should
be unacceptable? Besides parking on the 57
freeway, I mean. How we treat each
other. What level of meanness and what
level of suffering do we put up with or just tune out?
For instance, there’s TV news. And not just the news of one political
party. I think a lot of TV news is toxic.
Yelling on TV is sport. Hounding those who are suffering. Reporting on unacceptable behavior as if it
were normal. You may have worked up a tolerance to it and be able to survive
exposure to it, but beware the small people in your life; they are at
risk. I’m still scarred from TV news in
the 1960’s. And what might we be losing by constant exposure to incivility? Not our muffler; just our memory of how to
treat people with respect, or to value truth.
I do read the news to be informed, so it doesn’t hit me at such a
visceral level.
We pay a dear price for our nation’s
failure to show love and kindness on the world stage. We no longer draft our
young people to fight our wars; if that were required, our leaders would have
had to find other solutions. Instead, we
have normalized war by creating a mostly hidden, self-selected class of people who undertake a
body-and-soul-scarring duty, a sometimes fatal duty, on our behalf. They do it for a war we barely know in a
place that has been a battleground for almost two generations, a war that is
unwinnable because it is a war against terror, and bombs and bullets only beget
more terror. In this and other ways, we
have answered violence with more violence, and tolerated the intolerable.
Prepare for peace: how shall we
start? Have you heard of the peace that
passes over misunderstanding? Stop
following the news altogether. Say
polite things to those who rant, and don’t spend any more time with them than we
need to. Avoid difficult topics, and do
our best to shelter our own sense of peace.
Sometimes that’s the best we can do.
But the peace that passes over misunderstanding is a fragile and shallow
thing. What we long for is the peace
that passes human understanding that Paul spoke of, the peace that comes from
God.
The peace that passes understanding,
even if we just experience it in flashes, allows us to stand in the midst of
trouble and know that it is not our job to fix it, but it is our calling to act
out for love and kindness no matter what the provocation, and name the violence
and the incivility around us and say, “This is not normal; this is destroying
our souls,” When we do so, are not alone.
We are paving the road for the Prince of Peace to work among us,
bringing transformation, reconciliation, and healing.
Prepare for peace. I recently joined the Friends Committee on
National Legislation (FCNL). The
Religious Society of Friends, also known as Quakers, are one of the historic
peace churches; those Christians who took Jesus seriously when he said “Blessed
are the peacemakers” and “love your enemies.”
Their focus this year has been on military spending. Like Citizen’s Climate Lobby, they advocate
on both sides of the aisle. Though my Congresswoman hasn’t deigned to meet with
us yet, we have met with the many candidates running against. Prepare. Anticipate.
Hope. Remember: hope is what we rely on when optimism fails us.
I visited the Washington DC office
of the FCNL with my neighbor Betty– she’s our Irvine coordinator. They are the oldest faith-based advocacy
organization in the country, started in 1943. They have their own building just
a block from the Capitol, nearly a century old but recently remodeled to be very
green– the highest LEED rating possible. I saw my first light pipe, sending
light from the four-story roof all the way down to the first floor. They gave us the grand tour; I think we met
every employee and saw every green feature of the building. Talk about hospitality. Their shared some of the creative bipartisan legislation
they are working on. They make space for
civil discourse by hosting private bipartisan discussions for congress
people. I envied the hope, maybe even
optimism, I saw on so many of their faces.
I asked one of them if we had ever had such polarized political factions
as we have today. She grinned sheepishly
and said, “Well, there was the Civil War, that was worse.”
Here is the Friends Committee on
National Legislation’s mission statement:
We
seek a world free of war and the threat of war.
We
seek a society with equity and justice for all.
We
seek a community where every person's potential may be fulfilled.
We
seek an earth restored.
Those are words to live by.
We prepare for a Prince of Peace. We
will not despair. We hope and dream and of a world where all are safe, and
respected, and loved, and have enough. A
world where God’s will is done. It was
the hope of the prophets and it is our hope.
And we are grass; we fail repeatedly to live up to this vision. But the
Love we rely on does not fail, and is ever ready to pick us up and restore us, to
comfort us and invite us back to this hard and joyful work of building a
highway for our God. We will refuse to call our condition normal and
acceptable. We will learn the skills of
peacemaking. We will pave the way for the
Prince of Peace to dwell fully in our families, our communities, our nation,
and in our hearts. Amen.
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