Waters of Destruction and New Life

Water is powerful.

Anyone who has caught even a glimpse of the news of recent storms has learned something about the destructive power of water.

As the southeast coast of the US recovers from hurricane Matthew, we have seen flooding and power outages, destruction of property and casualties. The damage experienced on the mainland, however, is minimal compared to the devastation of island communities. Nearly 900 are confirmed dead in Haiti, and communities there will take years to rebuild – this is the poorest nation in the western hemisphere, which has been struck by disaster after disaster in recent years.

Yes, water is powerful.

That power can be used for destruction.

And that power can also be used for restoration.

What Haiti actually needs most right now is more water – clean water for drinking and washing, to prevent the spread of disease.

Water can hurt, and water can heal.

During dry seasons, all that is needed is a light rain to turn the grass from brown to green, and to save the crops that can feed a family.

Water brings life.

It can restore what is close to death.

When firefighters are called to respond to a burning building, powerful streams of water gush out from hydrants and hoses to extinguish the fires.

            Water saves life and property.

            It restores safety to a community.

In the movie Hotel Rwanda, there is a scene right when the fighting begins to break out in the community, between the Hutus and the Tutsis. A young boy, the son of the main character, is found hiding in the bushes, covered in blood. The family panics, carries him inside, washes him off and gets ready to bandage his wounds.

That’s when they discover that the blood isn’t his.

The water reveals a physically whole child, in need not of first aid, but of kind human touch and comfort.

Water washed away the fear and brought hope.

In the church, we believe that water can do amazing things. The waters of baptism can bring about forgiveness of sins, redeem from death and the devil, and give eternal salvation (from Martin Luther’s Small Catechism). The sacrament of baptism is incredibly powerful.

In his Small Catechism, Martin Luther asks, “how can water do such great things?”

Here’s the answer:

“Clearly the water does not do it, but the word of God, which is with and alongside the water, and faith, which trusts this word of God in the water. For without the word of God the water is plain water and not a baptism, but with the word of God it is a baptism, that is, a grace-filled water of life.”

Water is powerful.

And the Word of God is even more powerful.

Naaman, the Aramean army general suffering from leprosy, discovered the power of water and of the Word of God. As a military foe of Israel, Naaman had an Israelite slave girl serving his household, who had been captured as a prisoner of war. When she learned of his leprosy, she shared her certainty that the prophet Elisha could heal him. The whole story can be found in 2 Kings 5:1-19 – but the short version is that Naaman’s leprosy is healed once he is convinced to wash seven times in the River Jordan, per a message from Elisha.

The waters of the rivers of Aram were powerful, beautiful, and life-giving. By comparison, the River Jordan was a muddy stream.

But thanks to the word of God, spoken by Elisha, and conveyed through a servant, the waters of the Jordan gained miraculous power and cured Naaman from his leprosy.

Water healed Naaman.

As did the words of Elisha’s servant.

Water and word.

Just like a baptism, ordinary water has the power to heal and restore. God speaks to us in many ways. Even when we are reeling from the effects of destructive waters, it is worth remembering that God can also use water to create life. The story of Naaman, and our own baptism, assure of us of the healing that awaits all those who trust in God, and the promise of new life that God can bring through water and the Word.

Lost in Idolatry, Found by God

Fifteen years ago, I was in my senior year at a liberal arts college, headed to the physical education class I needed for a graduation requirement. I arrived at the gym ready for ballroom dancing. But no one danced that day. Everyone in the building was huddled around the small computer screen at the front desk, in awe at the events unfolding in New York City. As we watched, a plane flew in to the second tower of the World Trade Center and disappeared, while the building began to collapse. That’s when the professor said, class is cancelled. Go somewhere and find a TV and watch the news.

Do you remember where you were the morning of September 11^th, 2001? Many of you do. Some of you don’t. You were in the wilderness or living abroad, you slept late or were sick that day, or perhaps you weren’t born yet. Maybe you have a hard time remembering anything these days, and where you happened to be on an early fall day 15 years ago just doesn’t make the cut for your precious memory bank.

An event like the destruction of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, can be an identity-forming moment. In fact, identity-forming moments don’t have to be public and dramatic – the same phenomenon can happen when we witness a car accident or a friend endures cancer or a relative passes away. Even if we don’t or can’t remember where we were that morning 15 years ago – there have been identity-shaping events in everyone’s life.

In times like those, people suddenly know or discover who they are – someone who dives into the fray to help, who sends money to support those diving in to the fray, who prays hard from where they are, who brings laughter or music or a comforting touch to those who can’t find those things on their own. While we don’t always know how to react to intense situations, our instincts kick in and we react anyway. And we discover who we are.

These identity-forming moments can be the times in which we see most clearly how to use our God-given gifts. We remember where we were and who we were when something important happened. In a sense, we were found, like that coin that was found by the woman sweeping her whole house until it was unearthed and rediscovered to be something precious.

Like the Israelites. The Israelites thought they had found themselves after they had escaped from slavery in Egypt, and they had discovered that they were important enough for God to protect them, and provide them with miraculous food on their journey. They had their identity – they knew who God wanted them to be.

But the Israelites took it too far. In Exodus 32, we hear about how a people’s sense of being found – of knowing who God wanted them to be – eventually became lost to the power of their own sin, which showed up in the form of a golden calf. Instead of continuing to listen to God’s guidance, and draw into closer relationship with God, the Israelites allowed the good of self-identity to deteriorate into the sin of idolatry. Instead of continuing to form themselves as a nation guided by the word of God, the Israelites started worshipping their own pride and self-sufficiency.

Having a national identity is good. Worshipping that identity in place of God is sin.

The Israelites are not the only people susceptible to such sin. Our own nation has been embroiled in this battle, particularly for the past 15 years. We might have a solid memory of being found, like the coin in the woman’s hand. But after a while, our identity is put to the test, and either we lose it or we start to worship it in place of God.

We are lost.

Milestones might give us a sense of self-identity. The challenge is to remember where and who we were when our identities were formed, and keep from losing ourselves to the sin of pride. The good news is that God will keep helping us to find ourselves again, until we finally know who we truly were created to be as children of God. God will seek us until we are as secure as that found coin in the woman’s hand and until our idolatry is destroyed. Thanks be to God.

Adapted from a sermon preached on September 11, 2016. See Lake Edge Lutheran Church for the full sermon text. 

Why Sabbath Matters

We’ve all heard the studies and statistics. Rest and relaxation are crucial to a healthy and productive life. Sleep can impact memory, metabolism, immune systems, and can even inspire creativity! Moreover, rest is necessary for a healthy life. A vacation produces the same benefits as sleep, and also increases productivity. Taking time off reduces likelihood of burnout and brings new perspectives on work and daily life.

Rest is also a spiritual discipline. Sabbath is a day of rest, observed every week, for intentional relaxation, renewal, and growing in relationship with God. The concept of Sabbath is grounded in two solid Biblical concepts. The first is creation: God made the universe in six days, and on the seventh day, God rested. If rest was important for God, then it is also important for us. The second Biblical reason for Sabbath is gratitude for God’s work in our lives and respect for God’s authority.

We rest because God rested. And we rest because God freed us from slavery and gave us the luxury of time off of work.

Christians sometimes lament the secularization of our day of rest and worship. You may remember a time when stores were not open on Sundays, when there were no sports tournaments or liquor sales on the first day of the week, when no one had to work.

Though, let me clue you in on something. As I pastor, I can assure you, there have always been people working on Sundays.

And it’s not just church professionals who work on Sunday. Police officers and firefighters have always worked on Sundays. Praise God! I would hate for my house to burn down because it caught fire on a Sunday instead of a Monday. Health care professionals have always worked on Sundays. Even when clinics aren’t open, emergency rooms are. Nursing homes are.

And forget rest from professional endeavors – if your Sunday routine growing up was going to church and coming home to a wonderful meal that the whole family shared together – who made that meal? Who did the dishes? It is not restful for most of us to prepare a meal for a dozen of our closest loved ones! Someone in the family had to work very hard in order for the rest of the family to have a day off.

Sundays have traditionally been a day of rest for Christians. But there have always been people who work on Sundays. So, we have a paradox: commandment to keep the Sabbath, but the reality of daily life that requires some of us to work on what should be our day off.

How to resolve the paradox? Here’s what I think.

First, the day on which you observe the Sabbath is less important than the fact of observing it. If you work every Sunday, turn Fridays or Mondays into your Sabbath. Pick a day of the week, and set that day aside for no work to be done.

Second, observe the Sabbath in ways that draw you closer to God. Yes, join a community for worship every week. And also, get some fresh air. Find God in nature. Spend time with family or friends who show you God’s unconditional love. Read or meditate or do whatever draws you into meaningful relationship with your creator.

First – take a day of rest.

Second – fill that day only with things that help you know God more deeply.

It’s tempting to work on our day off – catch up on email, run just a few errands, schedule an appointment. Don’t do it. The way to emulate God, to show gratitude to God, and to follow God’s commands, is to take a day of rest. Every week.

The rewards are monumental.

If you stop trampling the Sabbath,

    stop doing whatever you want on my holy day,

    and consider the Sabbath a delight,

    sacred to the Lord, honored…

then you will take delight in the Lord.

    I will let you ride on the heights of the earth;

    I will sustain you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob.

    The mouth of the Lord has spoken.

(Isaiah 58:13-14 NRSV)

Take a day of rest. Use it to grow closer to God. And God promises to be there in your busy days and in your restful days, for all eternity.

For a wonderful message on Sabbath, rest, and self-care, see this message by the Rev. Kanyere Eaton: God is not glorified by your chronic exhaustion