Providence (or "No Bad Deed Goes Unredeemed?")

June 30, 2009

June 28, 2009
A Sermon preached by Marci Auld Glass
at Southminster Presbyterian

Genesis 44:18 to 45:15

This morning we are dropping into the middle of the story of Joseph.
So let me give you a little context. The story of the family of Jacob begins in Genesis 37. Joseph is Jacob’s second youngest son, and the first-born son of Jacob’s favorite wife, making him Jacob’s favorite son. Joseph is also a dreamer. And his dreams get him in trouble, because he dreams that his older brothers will bow down and honor him. So, what happens to the favorite, snotty younger brother when Jacob sends him to “see about the shalom your brothers?” (37:14)
First they want to kill him, naturally. They are brothers, after all. But then one of the brothers considers that a bit of an over reaction and they decide to leave him in a pit to die on his own. And remember—people look to scripture to support “family values”. Eventually, they sell him to traders, dip his coat in goat’s blood and take it home to dad and say, “gee, dad, we don’t know what happened to him?”

Joseph ends up working for the pharaoh of Egypt—it’s a great story. If you haven’t read it, I invite you to spend some time with it this week. And in the intervening years, a famine comes upon the land. Because of Joseph’s dreams and visions, Egypt is well prepared for the famine. The rest of the family of Jacob are not.

The brothers end up encountering Joseph when they come to Egypt seeking food, but they don’t recognize him. He recognizes them, however. He puts one of them in prison, which is still better than leaving them in a pit or selling them to traders, but tells the others to take grain home to their father and to bring their youngest brother back if they want to save Simeon from prison.

Even though the brothers don’t recognize Joseph, they correctly assume that this development is connected to their earlier actions against Joseph.

They go home and report to Jacob. He rather astutely comments, “I am the one you have bereaved of children. Joseph is no more and Simeon is no more and now you would take Benjamin.”

They run out of grain again, and he tries to send them back. Judah says, “dad, we already told you. We can’t go back unless we take Benjamin. But I promise I’ll take care of him.”
So Judah begins to live into his role as his brother’s keeper.

And then Joseph sets up another plot. This time, he plants a silver cup in Benjamin’s bag and then accuses them of stealing it. And here our text begins, as Judah addresses Joseph.

Jacob had sent Joseph to inquire about the shalom, the well being, of his brothers right before he was sold into slavery. And it is only now, after all these years, that Joseph is able to see to the shalom of his family by saving them from the famine.

But what he can’t quite do is rise above his family system. The dysfunction that led brothers to sell their little brother is still in place. The brothers express their “dismay” when they realize Joseph is still alive. That’s their reaction. If there was joy or celebration, the author doesn’t tell us. Their dismay he noted. And Joseph imprisons Simeon, setting up elaborate plots in order to finally reveal himself to his brothers. And then, when he sends them off to get Jacob, he can’t help but tell them to behave. “Don’t quarrel along the way.” He might just as well have said, (waving) “Have a nice trip! Try not to sell anyone else to slave traders!”

And so, even in a family as dysfunctional as the family of Jacob, God is at work. That is important to remember as you read Joseph. Some commentators want this to be a story about how great Joseph is. But this is a text about how God works through people, even people like Joseph. Because if God can work through the imperfect people who’s lives are chronicled in Scripture, then God can work through you and me.

And Joseph seems to get that too, finally.

“Do not be distressed”, he tells his brothers, “or angry with yourselves. Even if you sold me here, for God sent me here before you to preserve life. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God.”

Isn’t that impressive? Joseph, who has good reason to be bitter, is not. He sees blessing in his having been sold into slavery by his own brothers. More than that, he sees Divine blessing.
How often are we able to really do that?

I was thinking about the Joseph story on Friday when I spent an unplanned and very long day at the Denver airport while trying to get home from Atlanta. Now I recognize that this illustration is imperfect. Being stuck in an airport is not the same as being sold into slavery, or cancer, or job loss, or war, or whatever it is that really affects people’s lives. I only had an inconvenient day, but I didn’t feel very blessed. I was downright grouchy.

And then I started thinking about Joseph. If he could see God’s hand working for good in the mean and horrible actions of his brothers, surely I could see God working for good in my nasty day at the airport. So I started thinking about my day. Had there been any blessings in it?

And then I realized my blessing that day were the people. I had stood in a customer service line for over an hour, without getting to the front of said line. But in that hour, I talked with a woman who had missed her flight, even though she’d been at the airport on time, because she went to grab breakfast and lost track of time. She was asking us to help her come up with a story she could tell her mother, other than the truth. Another woman suggested she tell her mother she’d gotten sick from eating bad shrimp.

There was a couple who, because of weather, had missed their connecting flight home from a vacation in Mexico. They were trying to come up with some sort of peaceful protest we “customer service line standers” could wage as we waited.

We pass people by all the time, especially at airports. But we rarely find out their stories because we don’t stop and interact with strangers. I had the whole day to spend in the airport and I interacted with all sorts of people. I chatted with the salesman at the airport bookstore. He recommended all sorts of books for me, and seemed to appreciate someone taking the time to listen to his recommendations. When a flight to Billings that was at the gate where I was hanging out was canceled, I had time to help get a Billings bound man who was in a wheelchair from the canceled gate to some gate agents who could help him so he wouldn’t have to go to that infernal customer service line.

And then, when it was finally time to go to the Boise bound gate, I visited with a couple whose travel had been worse then mine. They were trying to get to their daughter’s graduation and had missed all of the Friday activities while waiting in Denver. After we talked for a while, I realized that their daughter was graduating from the residency where my husband, Justin, works. So, in addition to enjoying our visit at the airport, I made some new friends and their daughter gave me a ride home from the airport at 1:00 in the morning, and then I got to visit with them yesterday at the graduation.

All because we had time.

There is beauty in looking for blessings, in looking for God’s hand, even in the worst situations.
And I think it is related to control. Because we can’t control everything that happens to us. Joseph didn’t pick his family and he didn’t choose to be sold into slavery. We can drive safely and still get in car accidents. We can eat healthy and still get diseases. We can show up on time, but can’t control thunderstorms that cripple the air traffic for a day. There are all sorts of things beyond our control.

But one of the few things in our control is how we see things. When we’re sold into slavery, we can grow bitter and plot revenge against our brothers. Or, like Joseph, we can look for God’s hand in our lives. Not as the cause of the difficulty, but as the redemption of our lives in the midst of the difficulty. And we don’t look for God’s hand in our lives so we can just pretend that everything is fine. Joseph’s brothers needed to apologize to him. The fact that God was able to work in the situation didn’t erase the fact that Joseph’s family had some issues.

The story of God’s working through the dysfunction of the family of Jacob is a good illustration of the concept of providence. Providence comes from the Latin, ‘pro videre’, to fore see, to fore ordain.

Now, providence is not fate. God is not a puppet master. We still have the agency to make decisions and take actions that affect our lives and the lives around us. But providence means that through the good and the bad experiences that happen to us, God is at work, creating new ways for us to see blessing.

Providence is related to the idea of God as creator. The God who created us is still at work, in the midst of everything, creating new life.

The word “life” flows through this Joseph story. “Do not be distressed”, he tells his brothers, “or angry with yourselves. Even if you sold me here, for God sent me here before you to preserve life. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God.”

And listen to these two questions from the Heidelberg Catechism, which was written in the mid 16th century.

Q. 27. What do you understand by the providence of God?
A. The almighty and ever-present power of God whereby he still upholds, as it were by his own hand, heaven and earth together with all creatures, and rules in such a way that leaves and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and unfruitful years, food and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, and everything else, come to us not by chance but by his fatherly hand.

Q. 28. What advantage comes from acknowledging God’s creation and providence?
A. We learn that we are to be patient in adversity, grateful in the midst of blessing, and to trust our faithful God and Father for the future, assured that no creature shall separate us from his love, since all creatures are so completely in his hand that without his will they cannot even move.

Was it providential that I spent that unplanned day in the airport? I can’t quite say that yet. Because that’s another thing about providence—it is best seen when you are looking backward at your life. And I’m still recovering from that long day with no rest. But I am able to see some blessings that were in that day.

My favorite scripture passage, the one that has brought me comfort through many difficult times, is Romans 8:28. “And we know that in all things, God is working for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

This passage doesn’t mean that only good things happen to Christians. But it means that through it all, there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God.

So, when your life feels like your brothers have just sold you to traders, remember that even then you are being held in the palm of God’s hand.

And as you go back out into the world, remember that your kindnesses and good deeds may be the providential hand of God in someone else’s life.

Amen.

Leave a Comment » | Genesis 44 and 45, Joseph, Providence, Romans 8:28 | Permalink
Posted by marciglass

Blessings and Birthrights

June 14, 2009

Genesis 25:19-34

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian
June 14, 2009

As a mother of sons, not twins, but sons, I confess that this passage gives me pause. My boys are great kids, and I can’t quite imagine Elliott trying to buy Alden’s birthright for a pepperoni pizza, but after doing 12 years of youth ministry, I do know that adolescence can change people. I have known adolescents who have figuratively sold their birthright for less than a pot of lentils.

But you get the sense, after reading this text, that it wasn’t adolescent angst that led to the split between the brothers. These brothers had been struggling against each other before they were even born. You wonder if, in utero, they knew what they were going to be in for as the children of Isaac and Rebekah. One of them would be loved by mom. One by dad. The affection of their parents would be handed out at a cost. They experienced love that was divisive and bred scarcity.

But, before I bad mouth Isaac too much, we should have some sympathy for him. Isaac, we recall, is the son of Abraham, who was promised to be the ancestor of many generations. Abraham was the receiver of the covenant and the promise. And the narrator of this text makes sure we remember Isaac’s connection to Abraham from the beginning: “These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son. Abraham was the father of Isaac….” But, for all of Abraham’s fame, he did, we should remember, hike Isaac up a mountain, tie him up, and prepare to sacrifice him on an altar. God intervened at the last minute, offering a ram as a substitute. So, perhaps that is why the narrator reminds us of Abraham. Isaac’s difficulty in relating to his own sons, could be directly connected to his relationship as a son to his father Abraham.

And despite what I suspect was also a conflicted relationship with God after that whole sacrifice plan, Isaac and Rebekah both turned to God and prayed for children. Despite the experiences he had in his own life and his own faith, he prayed to God for descendents, so the promise could continue.

Last week, when reading the Psalms, I noticed the Psalmist referred to God as “the God of Jacob”. Since I’d been thinking about this text, I noticed that in a way I hadn’t before. The God of Jacob? Why not the God of Esau, the eldest son who was tricked out of his birthright and blessing? Why the God of Jacob, the trickster born grabbing his brother’s heel?

The notion of primogeniture, the law that allowed the eldest son to inherit the ranch, has a shaky record in the Bible, beginning with he first inheritors of Genesis, Adam and Eve’s children. Cain murdered his younger brother, Abel, leaving brother #3, Seth to carry on. And on it goes. Isaac was, after all, Abraham’s second son, inheriting the promise instead of Ishmael. And it will happen later with Jacob’s children too. Reuben, Simeon, and Levi are passed over in favor of Judah, son #4. And Joseph, Jacob’s 11th child, will be annoyed when Jacob gives a grandfather’s blessing to Joseph’s youngest son instead of his firstborn. When Joseph tries to stop him, to get him to give the blessing to Manasseh instead of Ephraim, Jacob says, “I know, my son. I know; he also shall become a people, and he also shall be great. Nevertheless his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his offspring shall become a multitude of nations.” (Gen 48:19) What God said to Rebekah when she was pregnant, Jacob then repeats to his son.

The right of the firstborn to inherit is described in Deuteronomy—21:15-17 if you are interested—but it is not spelled out as a law there, only explained. This right was so prevalent across the world that it was just assumed. And as we see in these texts this morning, it was assumed as a reality, even by the men who were the beneficiaries of a subverted inheritance. Isaac, the second son of Abraham was planning on handing on his blessing and inheritance to his oldest son, Esau. Did he forget the grace he received as second son? The sons of Joseph, Jacob’s grandchildren from his 11th child, should never have received their grandfather’s blessing. Yet, when they did, Joseph didn’t notice the grace of that unmerited blessing, and tried to restore the societal order, bringing the blessing to the firstborn.

So, what does primogeniture have to do with us? If you think Jacob and Esau are a story of something that happened long ago and far away, consider this article from the news this past year. A 70 year old woman in India gave birth to twins. She was already a mother of two daughters and grandmother to five, but she and her husband spent their life savings and took out a loan for In vitro fertilization because, and I quote, “We already have two girls but we wanted a boy so that he could have taken care of our property.” The father said, “The desire for a male child has always been there, but God did not bless us with a male child. Now, we are very grateful to God, who has answered our prayers”. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7491782.stm)
The article did not report if either of the children was named “Esau” or “Jacob”.

So, what does primogeniture have to do with us?

My husband and I are planning on dividing our assets equally among our children, as I suspect most of you will too. This practice, so prevalent throughout the world, even today, has lost ground in 21st century America, although I’m sure all of the oldest male children in the room might convincingly argue for its return. No, this isn’t a sermon about estate planning.

Rather, let’s consider how we as Christians, Americans, and Southminster-ans are recipients of the blessings of God. Because the other piece that is almost always at play when you read these narratives from Genesis is that while the stories are told about individuals and families, these stories are never just about the individuals. Jacob, we recall is given another name. After wrestling all night for a blessing by the river Jabbok, Jacob will be renamed Israel. The stories of Jacob are the stories of the creation of the people of Israel.

And there is other etymology at work in this text as well. Esau, covered in red hair and famished for red lentils has another name too—Edom, which means “red”. And Edom was also the name of a people. Their territory was south of the Dead Sea, south of the territories of Judah and Moab. Today you would locate Edom in Southern Israel and Southern Jordan. In the New Testament, the region is referred to as Idumea.

Israel, the people, received the favor of God, the inheritance of the promise, at the cost of their brothers and sisters, the Edomites. But like the characters in Genesis, they seem to forget the grace that has gotten them where they are. Here is a reference to Edom in the Psalms: “Moab is my washbasin; on Edom I hurl my shoe…”(Psalm 60:8 and Psalm 108:9)

I’m not surprised a brother would say that to a brother—we see comments like that all the time at our house—but I think we should be aware of our propensity to assume that we are somehow deserving of the unmerited grace we have received.

Christians, as we know, are relatively late comers to the Covenant of God. Yet, as soon as we were received into the Promise, what happened? Anti-semitism. You don’t have to dig deeply in the pages of history to see that sad story played out, and playing out this past week at the Holocaust Museum in DC. We forgot how God had included us in the Promise and began to act as if God’s favor had always been for Christians alone.

And America. As 4th of July weekend approaches, I confess to being conflicted about “God Bless America” signs I see on the bumpers of cars. I love this country. I am thankful for the freedoms we have and for the people who are even today making sacrifices for those freedoms. I am thankful for the opportunities in the US for education, for safe and civil society. Truly, our country has been blessed. All you have to do is watch the news and see people who are being killed in Iran for voting. People are imprisoned or killed for speaking their conscience in many countries. There are Christians in parts of the world who would be arrested if the government found them to be in possession of a Bible. Yes, we are blessed here. Yet, after all of these many years of blessing, do we sometimes hear in our political discourse that assumption that our blessings are somehow our birthright? How many of you made the choice to be born an American instead of a Zimbabwean, Pakistani, or Sudanese? How many of you made the decision, before you were born, to be born into privilege, security, wealth, and comfort?

In response to those God Bless America bumper stickers that would take credit for the blessings we have received for having the fortune to be born here, I would say that God has blessed America—now how are we being a blessing? Because all the way back in Genesis 12, when God first tells Abraham of the Blessing, that is the language. “I will bless you and make your name great so that you will be a blessing.” How are we going to inherit the promise, to receive the blessings we have received and then be a blessing? Unfortunately, I see our society spending more time trying to hoard our blessing. Building walls, both literally and figuratively, to keep people out.

For us to be a blessing, for us to not despise our birthright, we need to find a way to pass on the grace we have received.

The Presbyterian Church has also been blessed. In our history, we have become a church that reaches out to its community, sharing the gospel, and passing on the grace we have received. This past week, we welcomed over 50 kids from the congregation and the community in here for Vacation Bible School. What a fun ministry to the community it was!

And over the years, we have continued to include people when other denominations would say no. As an ordained woman, I am thankful to be a Presbyterian, knowing that my sisters from some other denominations do not have the opportunities to respond to God’s call in their lives as I do. I am thankful that society’s tradition of inheritance has been subverted in the Presbyterian Church to make room for me.

And we are also like Esau and Jacob, brothers wrestling with each other for our inheritance. The General Assembly amendments about ordination standards failed to gain enough votes in the presbyteries. Yet even before GA, the concern about the future has become a part of denominational life. Churches have been leaving the denomination. What if more churches leave?

Have we become like Jacob, worried about taking our future in our own hands, not trusting that God will provide? Or are we also like Esau, worried more about the immediate present, willing to disregard our birthright for a quick fix of today’s anxiety?

I’m not going to presume to know the answer. But, as we as a congregation and a denomination go forward into this future, we need to remember the grace we have received, the reason that God called the Presbyterian Church into being. We are a voice of hope for people without much voice. We are a voice of justice for people who have been silenced. We are a voice of love and grace in a world that can be narrow minded and mean.

As we move forward into our future, we need to not fight over birthrights and blessings. We need to remember the grace of God that has included us in God’s family, the gift that brought us into the promise. While we meet together to discuss the issues that divide us, we need to do so with love and grace. We need to remember that all of us love God and are seeking to serve God more faithfully. We need to let go of our right answers, and listen for what the Spirit is saying to the church.

What we can hold on to is this—the God who created us and called us to be here, to make up the community of Southminster Presbyterian Church, has blessed us to be a blessing. What we can hold on to is our commitment to the Gospel and to the promotion of social justice for all of God’s children and the rest of it will sort itself out.

We gather around this table each month, the ultimate sign and symbol of God’s grace. Where we are invited to a table we have not prepared, to a meal prepared for us in the life and death of God’s own son, Jesus. At this table, God again disrupts the order of inheritance. Even though Jesus should have been the inheritor of God’s blessing, we are the ones who receive the promise. Let us today, like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Esau, claim our promise. And let us remember that there is room enough for all at this table. There is room enough for all in God’s favor. Amen.

Leave a Comment » | birthright, blessing, Genesis 25:19-34, primogeniture | Permalink
Posted by marciglass

Pentecost 2009

June 2, 2009

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church
May 31, 2009

Ezekiel 37:1-14
Acts 2:1-21

Pentecost is a Greek word meaning 50. Last week we remembered the ascension that took place 40 days after Easter. And then the disciples waited in Jerusalem for 10 days for the arrival of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost, today, is the day we celebrate this pouring out of the Spirit upon the church.

But it was first the Jewish festival where they, 50 days after Passover, celebrate God’s giving the Law to Moses on Sinai. I like the connection between the two celebrations. We’ve been given the Law and we’ve been given the Spirit—both signs of God’s love and care for us, of God acting for us in love. That’s what Jesus’ followers were doing together—celebrating the Jewish festival of Pentecost. When the most un-Presbyterian of events occurred. The Spirit showed up.

I don’t know what they were expecting, as they sat around waiting for Jesus instructions to play themselves out, but I suspect it wasn’t this:
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.”

Let’s not sanitize this story. It is strange. And it is one of those stories that seems so strange it must be true. I have a hard time figuring out why someone would make it up. Rush of a violent wind, tongues as of fire landing on their heads, and then they start speaking.

While I love Pentecost, it also scares the bejeebers out of me.
As you have no doubt discovered, I have some control issues. And the Holy Spirit defies all of those attempts for control. Presbyterians tend to be suspicious of the Holy Spirit. Because she does not do things “decently and in order” and does not seem limited by our Book of Order. Nor does she wait for the Session to vote. The Spirit moves where she will.

When I was in seminary, in my Theology class, on the day we were talking about the Holy Spirit, one of my classmates showed up as the lecture was beginning and he was dressed up like one of the characters from the movie Ghost Busters. He told the professor, “I hear we are talking about Ghosts today, and I came prepared.” The class laughed, but one of the professors said, “isn’t it just like a Presbyterian to try to extinguish the Spirit”.

There are legitimate reasons why we are suspicious of the Spirit. Because people will claim, “I don’t need to listen to you. I’m led by the Spirit”. And then they’ll go off and do something hateful and mean. We are right to use the brains God gave us to observe what people say and do and then discern if we think they are Spirit led…
Like when people claim that the gifts of the Spirit that they’ve received make them better Christians than those people who have not received gifts.

Or when Christians talk to their friends and families who are dealing with job loss, medical concerns, or other problems and say, in all sincerity, “If only you had prayed more, God would have healed you (or gotten you a job or whatever).”

Or when they protest at the funeral of a gay or lesbian who was killed in a hate crime, as they did when Matthew Shepherd was murdered.

Or when they claim that Hurricane Katrina was God’s punishment for either the licentiousness and sin of New Orleans or, as Pat Robertson said on the 700 Club, Katrina was God punishing America for keeping abortion legal.

Not all people who claim to speak in the name of the Spirit, in the name of God, are actually speaking in God’s name.

But there are some things in this text that can help us in our discerning about which activities are the work of the Spirit and which might not be.

When the Spirit shows up in Acts, the gift that the people receive is the gift of understanding. Some people refer to it as the gift of tongues, but it is very different from the practice in some Christian traditions. Rather than people speaking a language that nobody else understands, when the Spirit came upon the assembled folks, people start speaking the languages of everyone else there so that they could understand what was being spoken.

People were there from every nation under heaven. And these Galilean fishermen start speaking Greek, Latin, Ugaritic, Akkadian, Arabic, Spanish, French, German, Korean, Chinese, and Swahili. Maybe even Klingon. This wasn’t a display of the tongue speakers’ spiritual awesomeness that allowed them to do something that you and I can’t do. This was a display of the Holy Spirit working through faithful people so that other people could understand and so that people could come together.

Perhaps, if we prayed for the Spirit to come, we wouldn’t start speaking French, Russian or Pig Latin. Perhaps a liberal would start speaking in ways that a conservative would understand. Perhaps mothers would start speaking in ways that teenage boys can understand. Perhaps we could start speaking in ways that Catholics, Fundamentalists, Jews, Muslims, LDS, and Buddhists could come together in understanding and work for peace.

Consider the Spirit. Peter claims to the crowd that the Spirit of God has come as a fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy. I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh and your sons and daughters shall prophesy and your young women shall dream dreams…and everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.

But it wasn’t just given to a few. It was poured out upon all. Not because of their particular strengths or weaknesses, but because they were there. Sometimes that is how God works. Being in community matters. It is in community that you receive the spirit. While it happened to individuals, this was not a personal event. This was an event of the community.

And the spirit didn’t cause them to all speak one language. They were speaking many languages, but because of the Spirit, they could hear about God’s deeds of power, each in their own language.

So perhaps we need to spend less time trying to get everyone around us to speak our language—literally, or culturally, or theologically, or politically—and spend more time discerning how we hear about God’s deeds of power from people speaking other languages, trusting that the Spirit will allow us to hear. Trusting that the Spirit of God has the power to bring understanding.

Perhaps Pentecost should be more than one liturgical day and should be an entire season in church life. A season that lasts 52 weeks a year or so. Because the reminder to call upon the Spirit should not be a ‘once a year’ sort of thing.

If you remember back to the text we heard this morning from Ezekiel’s prophecy about the dry bones, there is good news in this text that shouldn’t be relegated to one day a year.

Ezekiel describes a gruesome sort of scene, a valley of bones. And there are days when we resemble that picture. Physically, spiritually, communally, personally. But the good news here is that God speaks to us when we are like that. “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD. Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the LORD.”

Even when, especially when, we are at our emptiest, our most alone, our most lifeless, God speaks words of hope and of a future. And God breathes the Spirit into us.

If you have your Bibles open to the Ezekiel passage, it is an interesting progression. The bones become bodies again. Sinew, flesh and skin are layered onto the bones, but they were still dead bodies without breath. The New Revised Standard Version translates the Hebrew this way:
Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.”

The Hebrew word for breath is the same word for Spirit and wind. Ruach. Maybe this counts as my speaking in tongues for the day. Ruach.

So this verse could just as easily be translated this way:
Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the Spirit, prophesy, mortal, and say to the Spirit: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O Spirit, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.”

As God breathed God’s own Spirit into the Nation of Israel in the time of exile in Babylon, so too did God breathe God’s own Spirit into the followers of Jesus 50 days after the crucifixion and resurrection. And the parallels are real. Who might have needed new life more than a group of people whose leader had ascended into the clouds, leaving them to figure out what to do next?

So, God’s breath, God’s ruach, gave new life to people in exile, and to people adrift without their leader and unsure of where to go next. And the rest of the Book of Acts describes what happens to people when they are led by the Spirit.

God says:
I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the LORD, have spoken and will act,” says the LORD.

So, where in our lives do we feel like dry bones or lost disciples? Where do we need God’s breath to enter us, giving us new life and understanding? We’re at the end of another program year in the church. Today we’ve thanked Teachers for their year of service. And next week we’ll be installing new Elders and Deacons, thanking some others for their years of service.

Perhaps it is in our volunteering here at church where you need the Holy Spirit to give you new life and energy. Because the work of the church is too exhausting, and too vast, to rely on ourselves to do. It must be given life by the Spirit.

Perhaps you need God’s breath to give you new life in relationships that have become difficult.

Perhaps God is calling you to new ways to love and serve the church, but you need the Holy Spirit to give you the courage to step forward and serve.

Wherever it is for you that needs new life, ask God to send the Holy Spirit. But remember that she is not yours to control. She may send you places you never planned to go. She may cause you to speak languages you didn’t know you could speak. She may give life where you only saw a valley of dry bones.
May we have the courage to call on the Spirit and the eyes to see the work of the Spirit in our lives and in the lives of others. Amen.

Leave a Comment » | Acts 2:1-21, Ezekiel 37:1-14, Pentecost | Permalink
Posted by marciglass

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