 |
| What has God written on your heart? |
©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson
Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.
Good morning! Thank you to our musicians for this service. I am grateful for our wonderful choir, Toni Leo, David Mize, and Randolph Horn for leading our melodic praise of God today. What a joy to sing songs from the Avocado Three Hymnal. That’s not what it’s called, you say? Well, we’re in Lent, so I cannot say the real name of that yellow songbook.
I’m grateful Randolph is here because it seems that whenever we take part in leading worship together something strange happens. I thought it was only confined to All Saints, but it’s happening here too. At All Saints, every Sunday evening that I would preach and preside at the 5:30 service, the lessons were almost always difficult in nature. At first, I thought it was my rector—now our bishop—I thought it was Bishop G breaking me in by giving me some tough readings. Now, I know that it is God’s way of punishing me… okay, not punishing as much as making me sweat a bit.
Still, our passages as we get closer to Holy Week are clearly pushing us more and more. Jesus doesn’t say “Save us from the time of trial,” like the way he taught us to pray. No, today we hear Jesus saying, don’t save me from this hour, for this I have come into the world. It will get even more intense next week. So, come back to learn about Jesus’ counter-protest procession that directly opposed the oppressive powers and principalities of his day. This week though, Jeremiah’s prophetic witness, especially here in Chapter 31 cries out. Even though it was written over 2,500 years ago, it still resonates.
If you have never read the book of Jeremiah, I highly recommend it. If you do not have time to pour over every detail, look up the Bible Project (linked here) and spend about 8 minutes watching their illustrated description of what happened in this prophetic text. Jeremiah, which was written by the scribe Baruch, is an anthology of the prophet’s sermons, poems, and essays. They all revolve around a basic idea: The Nation of Israel went astray breaking their covenant with God—they did this by worshipping other gods—God’s judgment was to come from Babylon—and yet, despite any unfaithfulness, God’s hope for God’s People within and beyond Israel remained. Follow me a little deeper.
There had been rampant social injustice in Israel. Those whom God had commanded the people to tend to and care for the most—widows, orphans, and immigrants—were being abused even right outside the Temple, as some were adopting the Canaanite practice of sacrificing children. According to Jeremiah, God, in the form of a nation to the north, was going to exact justice upon those who were committing these abominations, and Israel would be in exile for 70 years as a result.
In the middle part of this collection, we discover two stories which point to Jeremiah pronouncing God’s judgment on the faulty leadership and having to suffer consequences—even being kidnapped and taken to Egypt. Sandwiched between these stories is this kernel of hopefulness, which we read today! God will make a new covenant—listen to how beautiful this promise is:
I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.
Wow! This is powerful. It can also be taken out of context. We, Christians, overlay on Jeremiah’s word the coming of Christ in the form of Jesus. Maybe, this is what he was saying! However, Jeremiah was a faithful Israelite. And, this Prophet of Israel was directing God’s People, in much the same way Jesus would. They both were convinced of a new understanding that the Divine One, the Lord Our God, is as close to us as our very hearts.
This deserves pausing to let this truth sink into our souls. Can you feel your heart beating in your chest? Maybe check your pulse. Take a deep breath. Closer than your heartbeat is to your heart that’s God’s nearness to you. Now that you know how close God is to you, let’s circle back to an important and somewhat confusing phrase from the lesson. “I will write [my new covenant] on their hearts.” On, not in. Hmm? I wonder about that.
During my theological studies at the Seminary of the Southwest we once welcomed a brother from the Society of St. John the Evangelist, an Anglican/Episcopal monastic community up in Boston, Massachusetts. During a beautifully contemplative lecture, this priest and monastic spoke about a young monk with a question about this very thing. The novice asked a more experienced brother, “Why does it say in Holy Scripture that God will write his law on our hearts and not in them?” The elder responded, “God writes on our hearts, so that when our hearts break, the Word of God can fall inside and mend our brokenness.” I have been mulling over this profound statement since around 2012.
God writes God’s law of love on your heart. We heard the summary of the law before we confessed our sins this morning: Love God with everything. Love your neighbor as yourself and as they want to be loved. Loving your neighbor as yourself implies you love yourself. This is no small feat. It requires unpacking the harmful or hateful messages we internalize in a society obsessed with bigger, faster, stronger!
Once we explore our own internal reality, allowing God’s Word and loving law to seep into our brokenness. Then, and only then, can we begin to bring that love to others. Who is God calling you to reach out to in love? As I have heard more of your stories, I believe we would be wise to start here—within this congregation.
I am hopeful, like Jeremiah was, about the future of God’s People here! Still we must acknowledge the need for God’s Word to fall into our hearts—healing the collective broken-heartedness at Holy Apostles. Words from our Marriage Rite arise as I think about the wounds of this congregation, may “unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair” (BCP, 429). As we heal from broken-heartedness, as we allow God’s Word to mend our woundedness, we will experience new life, new energy, and new freedom. Then, we may look beyond this community.
We are collectively called to embody God’s love, as we care for the last, the least, and the left out. As Jeremiah put it, the People of God are to care for the widow, the orphan, and the immigrant. As I am new here, I want to hear your voice about where we might focus our reaching out. By the way, “The last, the least, and the left out,” is a phrase from the Rt. Rev. Barbara Harris, late, great bishop of the Diocese of Massachusetts—there’s a lot of love for Massachusetts in today’s sermon!
There is a survey in the Narthex. If you took it last week, thank you! If you did not take it last week, please fill it out today. The Outreach Committee is asking for your perspective. We will not be able to pursue every passion we possess. We will have to start somewhere and grow. Where we will grow best God only knows; however, I have a hunch it might strangely be in the shade.
As we culminate our Lenten journey with the beauty and challenge of Holy Week, Jesus draws us ever closer. Standing in the shadow of the Cross, we will see the Holy One lifted high. His glorification was not accompanied by pride, pomp, nor patriotism—not by military might, nor stage effects, nor a fearless flock of followers. Christ Jesus knew that the flourishing of his mission and ministry meant mimicking the journey of a grain of wheat. His death because of our human sinfulness—because he objected to an empire of domination, because Jesus stood up for widows, orphans, immigrants; the last, the least, and the left out; the poor, the oppressed, and the imprisoned, because Jesus loved the un-loveable, and led others to do the same, systems of power killed him.
In our woundedness, during our day, do we do the same thing? Do we persecute others, hold grudges, or dislike people because of what was done or left undone, because of past mistakes, or a myriad of other offenses? Do we only associate with others when they can do something for us?
What’s written on your heart? If it’s God’s law of love are you ready to allow the Word to mend your brokenness caused by your sinfulness and that of others? Are you open to allowing for God’s word to fall inside? Are you prepared for God to mend you and us collectively? God’s law of love is written on your heart—isn’t it time to let it in?
No comments:
Post a Comment