Meeting House (Part 2)

This is third section of a series of reflections upon my time with the Mennonites of Delano.  To read the first two sections, simply click on their link in the adjacent column.

My dad let me use his truck and my family was gracious enough to let me spend a Sunday with my mistress Mennonites.  So I left in what I thought was plenty of time.  However, when I arrived I discovered another difference between my world and the Mennonites; they don’t spend any money on church signs.  I drove around their dirt lanes for 30 minutes taking in its beauty and simplicity until finally I came upon a sort of buggy parking lot below a meeting house.

          I knew the service had already begun by the singing.  An a cappella melody of male and female voices floated down from the meeting house informing me where to go.  I walked upon the wooden porch and found myself standing at the head of the aisle.  To my right was a sea of white bonnets and long dresses.  To my left were blue and gray suspended shirts and bearded faces of the men.  There was no separation by age.  Everyone from a few weeks to 90 years old was there singing. 

          Had there been electricity, you might have thought the record skipped at my entrance as heads turned to see this stranger.  A man rose and offered me his chair at the end of the aisle.  I sat next to a boy of perhaps 3 and his father who looked to be in his late 20’s and wore a thin red beard.  He handed me a hymnal and we sang.  After each song a person would say a hymn number and start singing after which the whole congregation joined in.  They sang all the verses, with no instruments, but with great depth.  The hymns seemed ancient and familiar at the same time.    

          After singing a man rose, read scripture and spoke on prayer, after which we turned kneeled, placed our elbows on our chairs and prayed.  After this another passage was read and another man rose and talked for about an hour.  Now, keep in mind through all of this that it is Tennessee, it is July and there is no electricity, which means there is no AC.   The room is full and everyone has on long clothes and there are children.  To be sure, it was warm, and yet, there was something refreshing about the breeze that flowed through the open windows.  At one point a kitten wandered through the open door and down the aisle as if on its way to baptism only to be swept up and deposited on the porch by one of the ladies.  

          The service ended with a song at about 12:15 almost 3 hours after it started.  A long time by any one’s estimation, yet everyone from the youngest to the oldest made it through.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel awe for their endurance or sadness for their Sunday morning worship marathons.  When I expressed my amazement afterwards one of the brothers replied, “Yep, all of us have trouble paying attention at some point.  The services can get a little long.” 

          After the service the gentleman who’d offered me a seat introduced himself as Leon.  When I smiled I realized that he was the same person who told me the joke at the market.  He invited me to stay for lunch if I had time, which I was more than happy to oblige. 

Over 200 folks crammed around several long tables.  I sat at the end and talked with Leon and one of his 9 children, Caleb while we dined on homemade bread, peanut butter, egg salad, pickles and lemonade.  A meal and conversation were like the Mennonites; simple and good. 

After the meal, the men and women lingered with their respective genders chatting about the weather and crops.  The red-bearded pew mate introduced himself as Nick.  When he did so, I realized that he was the one who I’d met at the market and asked about coming to their service.  He and his wife had been in the community for a couple of years and were the parents of seven children.  To this day I’m not sure what possessed me, but before I could stop myself I asked if folks ever came to spend a few days in the community.  Nick nodded slowly with a yes and then said that the fall was a much better time to do such a thing as things slowed down.  Even as the question came out of my mouth I knew that such a visit was highly unlikely and that it would end up on the same ‘to do list’ as building a basketball court and scattering my dog’s ashes from Mt. Si.    

As I drove away that summer Sunday, I struggled to decide how I felt.   Was it envy or pity?  They have so little; electricity, transportation, news, clothes.  Yet, they have so much; land, good work, faith and one another.  Such a question was too rich to leave unexplored.  Little did I know that a path back to Delano would open up just a few months later.

Up next: (Return to Delano)

The Eye of the Needle (Part 1)

Even before entering the community, one is greeted with a parable.  The drive to their market runs through a train trestle that is large enough for only one car.  I laughed out loud when I read that the name of the road was Needles Eye Lane.  In Matthew Jesus says to his disciples, “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”   Could there be an entrance more appropriate for a wealth shunning community?  In later conversations I discovered that the Mennonites didn’t even give it this name.  Apparently the name preceded the Mennonites purchase of the land in 2003.  Had they needed a sign to purchase the land I’m sure that would have been more than enough.  To paraphrase John Donne, ‘tis stranger than fiction, but true.’  Or as another friend of mine says, ‘You can’t make this stuff up.’

          When one passes through the needles eye in summer they are greeted with a different world.  A simple white market sits at the end of a gravel parking lot.  To its left down a sloping hill is the land unfolded like a quilt.  Various horses, buggies and bearded men in straw hats scatter the land.  Like worker bees they drive their produce laden wagons to the basement of the market where I would later learn it was sorted into bins with each farmer’s name.  Other brothers then prepare the produce, cart it up wooden steps to the market above where they fill the half-empty stalls for the shoppers.  I imagine that I was like many other shoppers who were enamored as much with the heirloom tomatoes and pepper jelly as with the men stocking the shelves.  I was examining a cantaloupe when one of the brothers paused beside me with a box of cucumbers.  In a slow measured voice he said, “Last week a lady asked me if the cantaloupe were good.  I told her I thought so, but if you really wanted to know you should probably ask their parents.”  He then grinned broadly and continued to stock the shelves.  Who would have expected jokes at the Mennonite market?

        If you have ever asked someone on a first date than you know how I felt when I was checking out.  I wanted to get more time with these folks, but I didn’t know if they wanted time with me.  I didn’t know how they felt about outsiders.   Certain that I’d get rejected; I almost departed without a word.  But just before stepping away with my champagne grapes and watermelon I blurted out, “Do you all allow visitors to your worship service?”   Instead of answering he turned and walked away.  I was certain I’d offended him until he pulled a couple of sheets of paper from a display and handed them to me.  “Yeah,’ he finally said, “the service is at 8:30, just drive on around the community to the meeting house which is just over that hill.”  And just like that, I had a date with the Mennonites of Delano.

(next: The Meeting House)

The Mennonites of Delano (Intro)

In reference to GK Chesterton, CS Lewis once wrote that “It might have been expected that my pessimism, my atheism and my hatred of sentiment would have made him to me the least congenial of authors...[yet] strange as it may seem, I liked him for his goodness.”  After three days with the Mennonites of Delano I know what Lewis means.  I’d easily have been able to dismiss them as irrelevant if not for their simple goodness..    

There are many reasons to dismiss old order Mennonites, or plain people as they tend to be called.  They practice a literal interpretation of the Bible.  They have a great, perhaps even extreme distrust of modern culture that leads to their isolation from society.  And perhaps most difficult, women play what at first seems like a secondary role in the community.   These beliefs flow into practices that are equally odd.  The women wear head coverings, the men refuse to shave their beards.  They drive buggies instead of cars and reject electricity and modern plumbing.  They refuse military service, government assistance and public schools.  There is enough in their way of life to offend everyone be they liberals or conservatives.  No getting around it, they are strange.  Yet, as Flannery O’Conner once said, “you shall know the truth and it shall make you odd.”  Instead of quoting Flannery, the Mennonites would have simply pointed to the apostle Paul who wrote in his letter to the Corinthians, “The foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.”  No doubt about it, the Mennonites are fools.  So what does it say about me that they are starting to make sense?

          My attraction to plain folks began in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania.  In 2006 a mentally unstable milkman entered a one room school house and murdered 5 of the Amish girls.  As horrific as it was, it was not the violence of this tragedy that grabbed my attention, rather the response to it.  According to the tales of the girls who survived, one thirteen year old girl named Marian Fisher was shot only after she offered to go first in hopes of saving the others.   What would it take for a child to do this?  How does one train a child that they might act in such a way?  You might rightly call her act ludicrous, but you most certainly would also have to conclude that it was very much like Christ.  Later, the world would learn that such behavior was not relegated to the children but also the adults.  At the funeral of the man who murdered these girls over half the attendees were Amish.  Had it been me, I might have come to the funeral, but only to spit upon the grave.  Not so with the Amish.  They came as a sign of forgiveness.  They even came to offer their help to the grieving widow and children.  Again, you might rightly claim their action is ludicrous, but you must also conclude that it was like Christ.  Now I ask you, what does it take for a community to respond in such a manner? 

          This question haunted the recesses of my mind and even played no small part in my move to pacifism.  So, a few years later when I heard a Mennonite community had settled just 20 miles from my hometown in Tennessee, I knew I had to visit.  And so it was in August of 2011 that Erin, the kids and I drove to investigate the Mennonite market in Delano.  

Next: The Eye of the Needle

Advent 1: Waiting Together

Preached on Sunday, November 27, 2011

Before reading this passage, I want to first set it in its proper context. We must first understand that it comes at the end of a chapter long sermon all of which begins with a statement by the disciples. “As he was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!” Knowing that Jesus was a man of God and having just left the temple of God, one of the disciples likely wanted to curry favor with Jesus by pointing out how awesome God’s temple was. It is likely he expected some kudos from Jesus, but he gets just the opposite. “Do you see all these great buildings? Not one stone here will be left on another; everyone will be thrown down.” What, the disciples must have thought. This is lunacy. These stones are twice the height of a man and impossible to move. They’ve been here for centuries and most of all, they are the home of God who would never allow such a thing. Saying they will be torn down is like claiming the Titanic will sink or the twin towers will fall, such a thing could never happen. Or so thought the people prior to 1912 and 2001.

A few verses later, Peter, Andrew, James and John (the first disciples called by Jesus), pull him aside and ask when. When will this happen and it is in response to this question that Jesus offers his message.

He goes on to speak of a time of distress when there will be wars and rumors of wars, nations will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes and famines. He goes on to talk about the personal trials that the disciples will face being handed over to governors and kings. He goes on to speak of the troubles that families will have where even brothers will betray their brothers. Things will get so bad that women will wish they weren’t even pregnant because ‘those will be days of distress unequaled from the beginning…’ Are you feeling that Christmas spirit yet? Nothing says Christmas like a little distress. Of course, if you’ve been to the Mall, then you probably already know about distress. And so our passage comes after this distress.

Mark 13:24-37

24 "But in those days, following that distress, "'the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; 25 the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.' 26 "At that time men will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. 27 And he will send his angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of the heavens.
28 "Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near. 29 Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that it is near, right at the door. 30 I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. 31 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. 32 "No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come.
34 It's like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with his assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch. 35 "Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back-- whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. 36 If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. 37 What I say to you, I say to everyone: 'Watch!'"

The way in…

“But in those days, following that distress, ‘the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.” And a Merry Christmas to you. Nothing says happy holidays like a little distress followed by a cosmic apocalypse. The Christmas decorations are now on the streetlights, the santa commercials all over the television and if you live in South Tacoma then you know that the blow up yard decorations are inflated and bringing holiday cheer to the cold dark evenings. This is the season of light and joy and lots of sweets, yet we come into our church, of all places, and what do we hear? Instead of light, we hear about darkness. Instead of joy, we hear about distress. And instead of sweets, we hear about fig trees. What in the world is going on?

Lectionary

Most of the time I would have to shoulder the blame for our Sunday passages, but this is not one of them. You see, there is a thing called the lectionary which indicates the passages that are to be read each Sunday. The passages are loosely based upon one of the gospels and run in a 3 years cycle. Year A is Matthew, year B is Mark and year C is Luke while John gets sprinkled into all three years. Today begins year B which belongs to the gospel of Mark. So, lest you think I came up with this passage this morning, just know that all across the country, even all across the world, millions of other Christians were welcomed to the Advent season with this very same passage. But now the real question, what are we to do with it? Or perhaps more accurately, what are we going to let it do to us?

In the days following the distress

In our passage this morning, Jesus tells the disciples what is going to happen, when it is going to happen and how they should prepare. In short, he tells them that he will be returning in the heavens to gather all of the chosen ones. To know when, look at the fig tree. And to know how to wait, consider the servants whose master is coming home.

Our Christmas culture tells us how to do these things, doesn’t it? What is going to happen? Santa Claus is coming to town and he will even be coming in the sky. When will this happen? It will happen on December 24^th, late at night. And how shall we wait? Well you better not pout, you better not cry, you better not shout I’m telling you why? Santa Claus is coming to town. He’s making a list he’s checking it twice, he’s gonna find out who’s naughty and nice… Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Is this all that Jesus is? A cosmic Santa Claus? Is this all we are? Kids trying to be good so that we’ll get more presents? Surely there is more than this? Please tell me there is more than this. This morning I have god news. Yes, Virginia, there is more than this.

Waiting

364 nights of the year, parents have to be creative with ways to get their children to go to bed, but not so on Christmas Eve. For on that evening they hold the trump card. Raise your hand if you’ve ever uttered something like the following, “Santa can’t come until you are asleep.” Well, here is where the Santa myth and the Jesus reality part. On more than one occasion what does Jesus tell his disciples? In verse 5, “Watch out…” In verse 9, “Be on guard…” In verse 33, “…keep watch.” And finally, “What I say to you, I say to everyone, ‘Watch!” The NRSV translates this word more literally as it says, ‘Stay awake.’ Instead of sleeping, Jesus invites us to stay awake.

There are times in the Bible when Jesus seems to be talking just to his disciples or to the people. And then there are times when Jesus is talking directly to or about us. In the gospel of John, Jesus prays for all of those who will believe in him. In that he is praying for us. Here, when Jesus says, ‘everyone,’ we are included. Very simply, Jesus is telling us to watch, to stay awake. And so I ask this simple question. How will we wait? In typical Jesus fashion, he offers a parable.

Servants

“It is like a man going away; he leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with his assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch. Therefore, keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back – whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn.” (The fact that Jesus puts the rooster crowing and dawn at different times is an indication that he understood farm life. In my time with the Mennonites last week I heard the rooster crowing and was about to get up until I looked at my watch and realized it was just 4:00. My host Nick laughed when I told him and just shook his head, ‘there is no rhyme or reason to when they crow, sometimes its at 1:00 in the morning.’) “If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone, “Watch.” So how do we watch? Like a servant waiting for his master to return. But what does that look like?

A child in trouble

Perhaps you were like me and grew up with a mother who hated to dole out punishment. If such were the case, then it is likely you heard a phrase something like, “Just wait until your father gets home.” And wait I did, but I did not wait with hope, with joy or with eager expectation. No, I waited with dread, with fear and even some trembling. I can still hear the sound of my Dad’s car pulling in the drive way. The engine stopping, the car door shutting, the back door opening and closing and then mumbling. The conversation was too far from my room to hear the words, but there was one sound I could always hear. I could always hear the drawer opening. The drawer that held the paddle. If I heard that drawer opening, I knew my doom was near.

Is this how Jesus is inviting the disciples to wait? In fear of punishment. To be sure, fear is a powerful fuel to keep one awake. Though I might pretend it as last ditch effort, I was never asleep on these days. Fear is powerful, but is it how God wants us to wait? Consider another option.

A surprise party

My family isn’t very big on birthdays. Over the years, we’ve lowered the expectations to the point that a phone call is enough. This year my brother and I have even taken to wishing one another happy birthday in advance, just so when we forget to call, we can say that we’d already done it. So, when my Dad turned 50 and we told him we were taking him out for dinner, he was very pleased. This was more than he’d expected and he expected nothing more.

But as it turns out, my brother and sister and I had gotten together and planned a surprise party. We reserved and decorated the church fellowship hall. We invited a whole host of Dad’s friends, both from when he was younger and recently. We asked people to write letters that we could read to him and we made some of his favorite foods. Once we’d gotten it all done, we were pretty excited, but we still had to get the surprise part.

The plan was pretty simple, my mom and sister would get dad to stop by the church claiming they had to get something forcing Dad to come along with them. But to make sure that we weren’t surprised, what did we have to have? A lookout, just like in Jesus’ parable. When they saw my parents car, they would alert us to turn the lights out and prepare for their arrival. Have you ever been in that group? The group in the room, with the lights out, crouched behind the table ready to stand and shout surprise? Were you tempted to fall asleep?

Perhaps this is how God is inviting us to watch and wait together. Not as one fearing punishment, but as a group of people ready to celebrate his arrival. Can we disappoint God? Sure, imagine a surprise party that had no food, no decorations or no people. Jesus did assign each of us tasks and if we fail to fulfill those tasks it can detract from the party. But the opposite is true as well, when we’ve prepared for this celebration and the guest arrives, it is a joy to shout surprise and celebrate. Let you think I’m making this approach up, just because I like to think in this way, listen to how Luke describes the waiting servants.

“Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, like men waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks they can immediately open the door for him. It will be good for those servants whose master finds the watching when he comes. I tell you the truth, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them….” (Luke 12:35-37) Luke takes this analogy one step further and claims that the master will offer a surprise party for the servants by turning the tables and serving them. Imagine if we waited in this manner; expecting to share the goodness of God.

Waiting with those in distress

Shall we wait in fear? Shall we wait in eager expectation? Or perhaps there is even another way for us to wait. Both of my examples focus on the 2^nd coming of Christ which to be honest, we’ve been waiting quite a while for. But here’s the thing about Jesus, he isn’t one to wait to teach the disciples, for almost immediately after offering these words, he gives them a chance to practice it. Do you know what I’m talking about?

In the very next chapter, the very next chapter, we read this: “They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took Peer, James and John, along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed. (there is that word again, distressed, but this time it is Jesus experiencing it) and troubled “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” He said to them, “Stay here and keep watch.” (keep watch, stay awake, same word). Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him, “”Abba, Father, he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me, yet nto what I will, but what you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pry so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing but the body is weak.” Once more he went away and prayed the same thing. When came back he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. They di not know what to say to him.” (Mark 14:32-40)

They did not know what to say to him. Do we want this to be our response to Jesus? All he asked of his disciples was to stay awake with him. All he asked was for them to wait with him. All he asked was for them to be present with him during this time of distress and they could not do it. Jesus did not use fear, he did not use reward, he only used friendship, which apparently was not enough to keep them awake.

What about us? Brothers and sisters, though I speak this morning of end time events, of things that will occur at some point out there, we have an invitation to practice waiting right now. As Jesus invited his disciples to wait together with him in his distress, I wonder if there is someone in a situation of distress that Jesus might be inviting me to wait with? Now, here what I am a saying, because this message often gets confused at Christmas time. Often what we hear is that it is time to go to someone in distress and try to fix their problem with a turkey basket or some toys. This is good, but it is not what Jesus was asking of his disciples. They could not fix his problem. He only wanted them to sit with him in it.

Think for a moment, is there anyone you know who could use a friend to sit with them in their time of distress? Do you know of a person who has recently lost a loved one? Do you know of someone who is in the hospital or a nursing home? Do you know of someone who is depressed? I invite you to think of someone who is in a time of distress which you cannot fix and then offer to stay awake with them.

Now, what do I mean by that? It may mean to just pray for them. It may mean to write them a letter. It may mean to give them a call. It may even mean that you go and knock on their door and ask if you can come in and sit for a while. Does someone come to mind?

The way out…

Most of you know that I spent 3 days with an old order Mennonite community in Delano, TN. It is likely that you’ll hear me refer to them in more than a few upcoming sermons as it was a profound experience for me. I couldn’t help but think about something one of my hosts, Leon, told me. We were near the meeting house and he pointed to a little grave marker about 100 feet away. “That is our cemetery. We’ve had 3 deaths since we’ve been here. Two were stillborn infants.” What about the 3^rd I asked. “Well, that’s interesting,’ he said. Turns out, there was an elderly man who was terminally ill. His family had largely abandoned him and he was facing the prospects of death in a nursing home…alone. He’d gotten to know some of the Mennonites over the years and so he asked if he could come and live out the rest of his days with them. Now, this man was not a convert, he had no blood connection to them and for all I know, didn’t even have the spiritual connection. This community had no reason to bring this man in, they couldn’t fix his problem, he couldn’t offer anything to the community, there was no reason. And yet, they welcomed him, they cared for him, they stayed awake with him in his time of distress.

This is advent, waiting together. Let us pray.

October 23: Psalm 90

Psalm 90

A prayer of Moses the man of God.
Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. 2 Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
3 You turn men back to dust, saying, "Return to dust, O sons of men." 4 For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night. 5 You sweep men away in the sleep of death; they are like the new grass of the morning-- 6 though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered.

7 We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation. 8 You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence. 9 All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan. 10 The length of our days is seventy years-- or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. 11 Who knows the power of your anger? For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you. 12 Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

13 Relent, O LORD! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants. 14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. 15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble.

16 May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children. 17 May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us-- yes, establish the work of our hands.

The way in…

“Don’t make me come down there.” Does anyone remember this billboard from a few years ago? It was a part of a series of ‘advertisements for God.’ Apparently, an anonymous businessman believed that God was suffering from poor publicity and what God really needed was a good marketing campaign. So, this man hired a marketing firm to come up with a series of slogans that would be posted on billboards across the country. The billboards had white words on a black background and said things like,

“That love your neighbor thing, I meant it.” - God.

“Loved the wedding, invite me to the marriage.” - God.

“Keep using my name in vain, I’ll make rush hour longer.” –God

But the one I remember and seemed to see most frequently was the one that read simply, “Don’t make me come down there.” - God

What does this phrase make us think about God? If you’re like me, I think of the times when I was a kid fighting with my sister while my Dad tried to watch television. When our fighting reached the point where he couldn’t hear Dan Rather, he’d ruffle his paper and shout, “You kids quiet down. Don’t make me come in there.” Or I think about the times when we were traveling to my grandparents and we’d be whining or fighting in the backseat until we irritated my Dad enough to where he’d say something like, “You kids don’t make me pull this car over.”

No doubt you have similar phrases you could share that came from your own parents. They certainly describe our parents. But here’s the question. Do they describe God? Is God really like a Dad watching Nightline whose best attempt to ‘fix things’ is to threaten his kids with his presence? Some, such as our psalmist this morning, would say yes.

Psalm 90

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations” The Psalmist starts with an affirmation of God’s provision and protection that has passed through recordable ancestry. But it doesn’t stop there, it goes all the way back ‘before the mountains were born, or you brought forth the earth and the world…’ The Psalmist affirms that God is God before and after time, ‘from everlasting to everlasting.’

Next, the psalmist moves to describe the human condition in comparison to God’s everlasting. To do so, she uses three simile’s; dust, a day and grass.

“You return men back to dust,’ she writes. We are like dust. This brings to mind the creation of humanity, ‘from dust you were formed and to dust you shall return.’ It also brings to mind Ecclesiastes, ‘vanity, vanity [dust, dust] all is vanity. It even brings to mind Psalm 1, ‘not so the wicked, they are like chaff (or dust) blown about by the wind…’ Humanity is dust. Humanity is also like a single day.

“For a thousand days in your sight are like a day that has gone by.” Our days are like sand in an hourglass, thousands to us, but just days to you. Humanity’s existence is but a moment in God’s history.

And finally, the psalmist writes, we are ‘…like the new grass of the morning, though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered.”

We are like dust, a day and grass. How do such comparisons make you feel? Insignificant, small, forgotten? It appears the Psalmist felt so. What are we to do with these feelings? As we read further in the Psalm, we hear the Psalmist attempt to explain these feelings, this pain.

The wrath of God

“We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation.” And what would lead to such anger? “You have set our sins before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence.” “All of our days (which are just a blink to you God) pass away under your wrath.” Tough 70 to 80 years seems a lot to us, it is just a blink to you and that blink is all under your wrath, all just trouble and sorrow. “Who knows the power of your anger? For your wrath is as great as the power due you.”

In short, God is mad! We have done something wrong. Actually, we have done many things wrong and now the Psalmist seems to be saying, God is giving us our due. Have you ever felt this way? Have things ever just gone so bad for you that in searching for a reason you landed upon the conclusion similar to the psalmist that God must be punishing me?

What are we to do with this wrath?

What are we to do with this wrath? How shall we respond? The first and simplest option is of course to ignore it. But, if it is true that God is really mad, then this might lead to some painful consequences.

So, the second equally simple, but also troublesome option is to embrace it as justified. The Psalmist does this in part indicating that God’s wrath is as great as the fear that is due him. Then requesting that God would teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom.

There is much wisdom in this verse and perhaps worthy of its own sermon. We would do well to live life in light of our mortality. Personally, I know that one of the greatest gifts I’ve been given as a pastor is the privilege of sitting with families as they say goodbye to a loved one. I say that this is a gift because in so doing, I am reminded that our days are numbered and that none of us get out of this world alive. We all, like the psalmist said, are like grass. We do return to dust. Paradoxically, facing death on a regular basis often leads me to embrace life. Very often I return from funerals to hug my wife and pay attention to my kids because I have just been reminded that these are gifts that don’t last forever. The reality of death can teach us the wisdom of embracing life. Such is a powerful lesson of the psalmist.

And yet, this does not get us off the hook, for death is a very different thing from wrath. And the Psalmist is addressing God’s anger. And so far, he seems to indicate that it is all justified. Perhaps, but the next part of the Psalm indicates otherwise. In the next verse, the Psalmist reveals that she is not so sold on this accepting a God of wrath, trouble and sorrow. No, she shouts out.

Bold prayer for something more

Ever get mad at God? Good. Because it is possible that the god you are mad at is very likely a god that the risen Lord wants us to be mad at. I remember hearing Dallas Willard who wrote The Divine Conspiracy tell of an encounter. He was talking with a person at a party and when the person learned that Dallas was not just a professor of philosophy but also a Christian he said, “I don’t believe in God.” Dallas said he paused so that he might not just react in some form of anger or frustration and then replied, “Thank you.” And then he asked, “would you mind telling me about the god you don’t believe in, because I might not believe in him either.” Such I think may be the case with the Psalmist. She has lived long with a God of rage and now he has reached his limit. Listen to the Psalmist’s rage.

“Relent, O LORD!” The Hebrew word for ‘relent’ is bWv (shuve) which is elsewhere translated as ‘repent.’ Moses asks God to do this upon Mt. Sinai (Exodus 32:12). And you know what? God does it. Relent, O LORD! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning (not just with being grass) but with your steadfast love (hesed, which is covenantal everlasting love). Why? So that we can do what you created us to do “sing for joy and be glad all our days.”

This was the prayer of the Psalmist. Relent, O Lord. Show us your love, your kindness, your steadfast love that has been there since the creation of the world. Show us this love for which we long. This was the prayer of the Psalmist. And so I wonder, was it ever answered?

Romans 3. Wrath revealed as ours, not Gods.

Fast forward a few hundred years to a little man hunched over a desk. His hand clasps a quill dipped in ink which he touches to a piece of parchment. He is writing a letter to a group of Christians in the world capitol of Rome. He has already filled a large section of the paper with words that described the God which the Psalmist prayed would relent, a god of wrath. And as we watch, he pauses, touches the quill to the ink and writes with a smile the words. Nuni de, “But now…” All of that seemed to be the case before, but now.

“But now a righteousness from God, apart from the law, has been made known to which the Law and the Prophets testify.” Is it possible that the thing the Psalmist prayed for was given? Paul tells us that a righteousness from God, which previously was thought to only come through the law (or some might say through God’s threats of punishment and wrath) has been made known. Do you mean there is a way other than wrath? Yes, Paul says. Wanna hear about it?

Well, ‘This righteousness from God comes through faith of Jesus Christ to all who believe.’ A word about Greek grammer. Most Bibles will translate the phrase, “faith of Christ’ as ‘faith in Christ.’ This is a fair translation as it is in the genitive case and therefore can go either way. However, in this case, it makes far more sense to translate it as the ‘faith of Christ’ because the very next phrase talks about our faith, our belief. Meaning it makes more sense to point to ‘the faith of Jesus Christ.’ So, what does this mean? It means as NT Wright wrote that “Jesus offered to God the faithfulness that Israel had denied.” Jesus was faithful in all and every way. Which, as we know but often forget, can not be said of us. We are not always faithful. Paul reminds us and the Romans when he writes, “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

All have sinned, God’s right to be angry

Wait a second, you might be thinking, I thought you were just saying that you didn’t think that God was really angry? Now I hear you telling us that we have all sinned and fallen short of God’s expectations, God’s glory? What’s the deal? Yes, I did say that I didn’t think God was angry, what I didn’t say was that he didn’t have the right to be.

Think about it this way. If what the Psalmist writes is true, if God has been our dwelling place and God brought forth the earth and the world then this means that all of us and all of this belong to God. It means that it not only belongs to God, but God created it and if you have ever created something, a painting, pottery, an essay, a garden, architectural plans or a floral arrangement then you know that some of you is in that creation. And what happens when someone harms or even worse destroys what you create? Not sure? I can tell you what happens at my house. When Will has spent 30 minutes using the Legos to build a house with a corral for the horses and a space ship to fly them around and Benjamahem comes and kicks all of it over, what do you think happens? There is shouting, there is screaming and sometimes there is even pushing. Why? Because Benjamin has destroyed something that Will created, and because Will created it, he is wounding some of Will. If such is the case with a few legos that are here today and gone tomorrow, how do you think God feels?

When we pollute the streams, how does God feel? When we curse, cut, stab and shoot one another with weapons or with words, how does god feel? When we abuse, batter and degrade ourselves, we who were created in God’s image, how does that make God feel? When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense to think as the Psalmist did, that God was pissed and we’re getting punished for it. That, I am sure is what I most often do. But here’s the thing, as it turns out, it isn’t how God responds. How do you know this Ken?

God’s response

As it turns out, God had his own marketing campaign that didn’t involve billboards. Once again, we return to Paul who continued his writings by telling us how God responded to our harming his creation. “God presented him (you might even say, himself) as a sacrifice (an offering)...” Why did God do this? He did this to demonstrate his justice (righteousness) because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished (the actual word here is passed over.) How did God respond to all of the ways we wounded his creation? Did he respond with rage, with anger, with wrath? No, instead of retaliating, as we would, God responded with himself. Don’t miss what I’m saying. God had every right to come and ‘get us back’ for all we’d done to destroy his creation. And yet, God does not. The God who created the heavens and the earth, the streams and the trees instead of using them to punish us, allowed us to use them to punish him. What are we to do with this?

Very simply, we can stop treating others as they treat us. We can stop responded to shouting with more shouting, anger with anger, gossip with gossip and hurt with hurt. Instead, we can respond to shouts with whispers, to anger with kindness, to gossip with blessing and hurt with forgiveness. This is the way God revealed on the cross. This is the way of Jesus.

The way out…

As it turns out, perhaps that billboard was true in a different way then we first heard it. Perhaps the reason God might say, “Don’t make me come down there,” is not because he’s coming to punish us, rather because he knew that we would punish him.”

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not let me.” (Mat. 23:37) Such were the words of Jesus after entering Jerusalem before he was crucified. Turns out we had it wrong all along, God never wanted to punish us. Rather, God wanted to love us, but we would not let him.

How bout this morning? Will you keep running around like a little chick? Afraid, hungry, oblivious to God’s presence. Or, like a child who knows their parent loves them, will you allow yourself to be gathered in and embraced by the God who loves you.