Back To Chaos?
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
This coming weekend is the third anniversary of one of the most traumatic events in the history of the United States, the 9/11 terrorist attack. The images of destruction in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania are still vivid in our minds. Many of us will include some mention of this tragedy in our worship services.
In our lead article for this issue of The Immediate Word, team member George Murphy draws on the lectionary's First Lesson as the basis for reflections on the experience of tragedy and how people of faith might respond to it. The 9/11 event -- and other horrors in the news, like the deaths of hundreds in southern Russia -- involves a number of questions for us. Can we make sense of disasters of this magnitude? What or whom do we trust for our ultimate security? How do we avoid an idolatrous trust in the things that offer us penultimate security? Powerful and relevant as it is, the Jeremiah text seems to give us more questions than answers this week.
Team members provide their own take on these matters, and also offer illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
BACK TO CHAOS?
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
(Psalm 14; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10)
by George Murphy
This coming weekend, September 11 and 12, is the third anniversary of the most traumatic event in the recent history of the United States, the terrorist attack on America. The scenes of destruction in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania are still nightmares for some of us, and just the phrase "9/11" may still call up those images. And like it or not, there probably will be a lot of references to September 11th during this fall's presidential campaign.
Preachers aren't compelled to refer to those events, but many will feel that they should talk about them this week -- or perhaps that their congregations expect them to. What can you say from the pulpit on the day after those events have been recalled? Would this be a good time to forget the lectionary and find some other text to preach on?
I don't think that you need to go hunting through the Bible or a topical concordance for a relevant passage, because the First Reading for this Sunday, Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28, certainly has something to say to our situation. If we're haunted by those images from three years ago and fearful of further destruction, we hear Jeremiah telling of a vision in which he "looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void." It was a vision of lifeless emptiness. You could just read verses 23-28 to people with 9/11 on their minds and most of them would make a connection without further commentary.
The slightest familiarity with the book of Jeremiah will remind us that this threat of destruction is not unique in it. Jeremiah's mission was to speak to the nation of Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem as an unfaithful people who had abandoned their God and were threatened with the consequences of their evil deeds. It was probably natural that such threats against the little nation of Judah would take the form of foreign invasion.
Scholars have debated about the identity of the "foe from the north" in the early chapters of the book: Were they perhaps the nomadic Scythians (as used to be thought) or the armies of the Babylonian Empire under Nebuchadrezzar? It's certain that the final destruction -- of Jerusalem and its Temple, the organized cult of Yahweh, and of Judah as a nation -- did finally take place at the hands of the Babylonians (often "the Chaldeans" in Jeremiah) in 587 B.C. All of Jeremiah's prophecies of destruction would then be seen in relation to that catastrophic event.
While verses 23-28 of our text do not stand alone, they do have distinctive features that set them apart from other Old Testament prophecies of destruction. Most notable is the fact that there is nothing here about the arrival of enemy armies or people being led off into exile. Life itself seems to have vanished. The words "waste and void" in verse 23 translate thohu wabhohu, the same phrase found in Genesis 1:2 and translated there as "formless void" (NRSV) or "without form, and void" (KJV). This is a vision in which the world is unmade and returned to primordial chaos.
What did this mean for Jeremiah, and what was it supposed to mean for his listeners? Was the devastation that would follow foreign conquest supposed to be the working out of God's judgment upon Judah? It seems pretty clear from verse 12 that it was supposed to be understood in that way. And there is an even more disturbing question: Who will carry out this attack on Jerusalem? On one level, of course, it's armies of the invader. But there is an implication that it is God himself who is behind the attack.
In the First Lesson for last week, about Jeremiah's visit to the potter's house (18:1-11), God's message to Jerusalem was, "I am a potter shaping evil against you and devising a plan against you." The later book of Lamentations (which was not written by Jeremiah, though it is connected with him in the canon) is quite explicit:
"The Lord has destroyed without mercy all the dwellings of Jacob;
in his wrath he has broken down the strongholds of daughter Judah;
he has brought down to the ground in dishonor the kingdom and its rulers."
(Lamentations 2:2 -- but see the whole of 2:1-8)
All right, what does this mean for us on September 11 (for those who have Saturday evening services) or September 12 of 2004? Jeremiah's vision of lifeless wilderness and a return to chaos provides a powerful affective connection with our memories of what happened three years ago and our fears for the future. That can be a great sermon starter, but where do you go from there? We have to deal with the same questions that Jeremiah and his hearers faced. Did America suffer God's judgment because of the unfaithfulness of its people, as Jeremiah believed that Jerusalem would at the hands of the Babylonians? What will we make of the suggestion that it was the Lord who acted against America?
Was judgment being carried out on the United States on September 11? Were we getting our just deserts? The question will make many people uncomfortable and even angry -- and that for several reasons. In the first place, of course, we like to think of ourselves as the good guys and gals, and that while we may have our faults, we're certainly better than the murderous fanatics who attacked us. Then there's the fact that the attacks were completely undiscriminating, killing people of different religions and of no religion at all, good and bad alike. And then some of us are wary of a kind of guilt by association: prominent figures on the religious right said the attacks were God's judgment on America for its immorality, and we don't want to sound like them.
As far as the first two points are concerned, we have to remember that the same things could have been said by the inhabitants of Jerusalem in Jeremiah's time. "We're not perfect, but we're better than those idolatrous Babylonians." And not all the people of Jerusalem who would suffer in siege and battle and exile were unfaithful.
Concerning the third objection, the fact that we may disagree with major parts of the religious or political agendas of Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything. Perhaps they were onto something with their idea about divine judgment, but wrong in whole or in part about the cause for it.
I think that here a slight detour may be helpful because of misconceptions that some people have about this idea of divine judgment. I was on the ELCA's environmental task force that developed our 1993 social statement "Caring for Creation." One of the things that we said in this document was that creation is disrupted because of human sin, and that "we experience nature as an instrument of God's judgment" -- and reference was made to Jeremiah 4:23-28. Did this mean that God would punish our acts of pollution, destruction of habitats, and so forth by suddenly pouring down fire from heaven to turn the earth into a lifeless wilderness? Of course not! The judgment is that God lets the consequences of our actions happen to us. We may turn the earth, or parts of it, into a lifeless wilderness ourselves!
That is one way of understanding what happened to ancient Jerusalem. Its destruction was a result of the religious, social, and political policies of the rulers of Judah. We don't have to imagine God miraculously manipulating Nebuchadrezzar to attack Jerusalem, but God could use the Babylonians, who were following a quite typical imperial policy, as the instrument of his judgment.
Religious conservatives may talk about God's judgment coming upon America for its immorality, and especially for sexual immorality. And the perception of America's sexual immorality is one reason that Islamic radicals see us as a corrupting influence that must be destroyed. Liberal Christians may be critical of political policies of the United States that seem to them unjust, such as American support of corrupt Arab governments to ensure our oil supply or backing Israel against the Palestinians. And, of course, those are also reasons why Islamic radicals have declared a jihad of the sword against the United States.
If one or both of those Christian analyses of America's sins is correct (and I won't state my views on that here), it's quite consistent with the biblical picture of God's actions to think that God could have used Al Qaeda, motivated by those issues, to carry out an act of judgment on America. That would not mean any divine endorsement of Osama bin Laden, any more than of Nebuchadrezzar. Of course, that idea is objectionable if one thinks that God is a tame deity who never exercises judgment or that America is not subject to it.
Or consider another example. At Lincoln's second inauguration, the end of the Civil War was just weeks away and the president could easily have given a purely triumphal speech. Instead, his short address was rather somber. Toward the end of it he said:
"Fondly do we hope -- fervently do we pray -- that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled up by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, 'The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' " (The Works of Abraham Lincoln [The University Society, 1908] 5:225)
Again, Lincoln was not thinking of some supernatural punishment but of "the judgments of the Lord" upon the country being carried out by what its people would do to themselves. And while the war did not continue for long thereafter, the whole history of racial oppression and strife since 1865 has continued to mark the United States, rather as criminals used to be branded. But it has been the oppressed rather than the oppressors, the innocent rather than the guilty, who have borne most of the consequences of our history of slavery.
And that brings us back to one of our earlier questions. What about the objection that the attack on America killed innocent people -- at least innocent of the policies that might have brought about the attack? If God acts in the world in such a way as to respect the integrity of created agents and within their capacities, God's actions themselves will necessarily be limited. Bad things happen to good people not because God just can't help it (as process theology suggests) but because God allows creatures to operate in accord with the natures God has given them, and does not miraculously overwhelm them to force them to do "unnatural" things.
Such a limitation is not just an arbitrary choice on God's part "not to get involved." God is involved in everything that happens, but does not exercise absolute divine power. The divine kenosis in God's supreme act of the passion and death of Christ (Philippians 2:6-8) points to such a divine limitation in God's actions in the world generally. (Kenotic views of divine action have received a great deal of attention recently in the science-theology dialogue. See, e.g., John Polkinghorne, ed., The Work of Love: Creation as Kenosis [Eerdmans, 2001].) And if such divine limitation in the face of evil seems unjust, we're reminded by the Philippians text that the typical sufferer from this injustice is -- God himself.
But I want to turn now to an idea that probably offers more homiletic possibility, the belief that America has been especially blessed by God and that we are the beacon of freedom for the world. And if that's the case, how could God let America be destroyed, or even threaten its destruction?
Grant for the sake of argument that God has given America a special role in the world -- a role that may not make it any better than any other nation. The people of Judah could certainly claim a special role, because God had chosen them. The religious and political institutions in Jerusalem had been established by God. Prophets like Jeremiah's opponent Hananiah then seemed quite reasonable when they promised the people that Jerusalem was safe (Jeremiah 28). Jeremiah's message was quite different.
An excellent statement of the difference between the message of the false prophets and that of real ones like Jeremiah and Ezekiel is found in James Sanders' Torah and Canon (Fortress, 1972), p. 87. In reading this you need to realize that the "normal folk, in their right minds" who are mentioned midway through this passage are just that -- ordinary people to whom the "everything will be all right" message of the false prophets sounds very plausible. These "normal folk," truth to tell, probably include many of us. (After all, we see the false prophets as false and ones like Jeremiah as true because of our advantage of hindsight.)
"For the prophets were true monotheists, and nothing they said so stressed their monotheism as the idea that God was free enough of his chosen people to transform them in the crucible of destitution into a community whose members could themselves be free of every institution which in his providence he might give them. Their real hope, according to these prophets, lay in the God who had given them their existence in the first place, in his giving it to them again. Normal folk, in their right minds, know that hope is in having things turn out the way they think they should -- by maintaining their view of life without let, threat, or hindrance. And normal folk believe in a god who will simply make things turn out that way. For them it is not a question of what God ought to do, that is clear: he will do what we know is right for him to do, if we simply trust and obey. Nobody in his right mind could possibly believe that God wants us to die in order to give us life again, or to take away the old institutions he first gave us in order to give us new ones."
Lots of religions threaten destruction, and religions that promise that we can avoid suffering and have everything turn out well are very popular. The radical thing about prophetic faith is that it speaks of a God who can destroy, or allow to be destroyed, everything his promise seems to depend upon -- and still be faithful to his promise! (Kierkegaard's discussion in Fear and Trembling of Abraham's faith when he was told to sacrifice Isaac may come to mind.) That comes to fullest expression in the resurrection of the crucified.
In other words, in spite of destruction there is hope. It's a hope that can only be appreciated when the threat of judgment has been accepted. Almost buried in Jeremiah's vision of the return to chaos are God's words, "Yet I will not make a full end." It's a short message, nothing like the lengthy descriptions of coming disaster. That seems to be typical of the prophetic books: The promise sections are much shorter than the judgment ones. (And in the Gospels, the Easter stories take up much less space than the passion narratives.) Maybe that's because it's so hard to get people's attention, and until the law does its work, the gospel can't.
The major concern that 9/11 brought about for Americans (and for many other people in the world) has been security. We saw examples of that during the Republican convention, and we encounter it every time we go to an airport. No sensible person is going to say that we shouldn't take reasonable precautions against suicide bombers or airplane hijackers.
But those are matters of our penultimate security, and we are called to shun the idolatry of treating measures to assure it as ultimate. What is our ultimate security? If the answer "God" is given too quickly to that question we may have reason to wonder if the radical nature of prophetic faith has been grasped. Is that "God" the one who, in Sanders' words, "will do what we know is right for him to do, if we simply trust and obey"? Or is it the God who "wants us to die in order to give us life again, or to take away the old institutions he first gave us in order to give us new ones"?
I think that simply focusing on this distinction between ultimate and penultimate security might be one of the most helpful things to do on this Sunday. Yes, you hope that nobody gets a bomb aboard your plane. Preventing that isn't a theological task. But suppose they do?
If you want to concentrate on the theme of judgment, it might be better to title the sermon something like "Has America Come under Judgment?" rather than "9/11 Was God's Judgment for Sin X, Y, or Z." None of us can claim the same kind of inspiration that Jeremiah had. It could be helpful to encourage penitent social reflection on what is wrong with America and the need for divine forgiveness and amendment of life. And that ought to be reflection on sins that we participate in, not the sins of others that have supposedly provoked divine wrath. There's enough fire and brimstone in the evening news. Some subtlety is called for this weekend.
Finally, the most recent terrorist attack on a school in Russia reminds us that this is not just an American problem. Russian Christians may be asking themselves now the same kinds of questions that we were asking ourselves in the days just after September 11, 2001. For the past fifteen years there has been talk about a "new world order," and some Christians have made that an ominous part of apocalyptic speculation. In reality, what we've had to face since 9/11 has been in a sense a new world disorder, a painful feeling of insecurity in almost every country. But it need not be a return to "waste and void." The calling of the church -- and of its individual preachers -- is indeed to announce that all the nations are subject to God's judgment, but that they can also hope for God's universal mercy. "Yet I will not make a full end."
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: Three years ago, the United States of America was devastated by the 9/11 attacks. The destruction went far deeper than the physical locations in New York, Washington, and western Pennsylvania where the planes crashed. "Life will never be the same again," the pundits were saying at the time. And they were right.
Life is changed, not so much because of what the terrorists have done to us, but because of what we are continuing to do to ourselves. In many ways, we are a nation still living in fear.
America heaved a collective sigh of relief once the recent Republican convention was over. That event -- which brought a huge concentration of senior government officials to a hard-to-police Manhattan location -- had seemed like an irresistible target for terrorists. A mid-August article by New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof ("The Nuclear Shadow," New York Times, August 14, 2004) further fanned the flames of fear by predicting that the terrorist explosion of a nuclear "dirty bomb" in a population center like midtown Manhattan is all but inevitable in the next decade or so. Many New Yorkers experienced nightmare visions that the Republican convention could be the ideal venue for such an atrocity.
Pastorally, I think it's important to address memories of 9/11 -- but not because this anniversary ought to be commemorated annually in perpetuity by solemn memorial services. (Even the Victorians, who loved the black-lace pageantry of death, thought the veils and armbands ought to go back into the trunk after a year or so.) No, we need to continue to revisit 9/11 from the pulpit because the demon of fear is still with us, and in some ways is even stronger than before.
Fear makes people -- and nations -- do strange things, things they may later regret. The 9/11 terrorists' most horrific legacy is that they have succeeded in making us a people of fear. As long as our nation's policies are driven by fear, we will continue to be at risk of losing our moral values, perpetuating atrocities like the Abu Ghraib prison abuses.
It's time we put 9/11 in proper perspective. The terrorists who hijacked the three airliners on 9/11 were not an overwhelming force. They were armed not with automatic weapons but with box-cutters. Their real weapons were (1) stealth, (2) surprise, and (3) the fanatical willingness to commit an act -- the murder of hundreds plus their own suicide -- that the world considered so morally abhorrent as to be unimaginable. The recent attack on a Russian elementary school shows how easily, in the terrorists' grisly calculus of one-upmanship, the previously unimaginable can again become the stuff of headlines: but this still does not mean most of us are in imminent danger of falling victim to such attacks.
I was at first concerned, George, when I heard you were planning to use this week's Jeremiah text as a way of addressing the 9/11 anniversary. The text could be so easily be misused to fan irrational fears. We've already heard way too many prophets of doom straining to explain the collapsing Trade Center towers as God's judgment on a heathen city. (Was Mohammad Atta truly the instrument of God's revenge? Is Gotham really the theological equivalent of Gomorrah? The likes of Falwell and Robertson may think so, but I myself will never join their number.) The distinction you draw, however, is helpful: the judgment Jeremiah is speaking of is God's cosmic judgment of creation at the end of time, not any lesser conflagration. More than anything, this passage witnesses to the ultimate sovereignty of God.
Remembering this may help us all maintain our perspective. The earth made "waste and void," the heavens bereft of light, the very mountains shaking, the sudden transformation of vineyards into barren deserts: these are not sights we have ever seen before -- on 9/11 or at any other time. God is ultimately the only one who can make "a full end."
Yet -- as you rightly remind us, George, focusing on verse 27 -- not even God will go so far as to do that. The Lord may bring judgment, but the Lord will always cultivate a faithful remnant. Even out of terror comes hope. Let us live, therefore, as people of faith, not people of fear.
Roger Lovette responds: This week The Immediate Word speaks to the human condition. Not only do we turn back in our thinking to September 11, when the world changed for most of us, but on this anniversary we bring with us the terrible news from Beslan, Russia, where on the first day of classes terrorists took over a school. The early death toll is 322, with many children missing. One mother interviewed on television lost twin eleven-year-old girls that day. Coupled with this are the thousands in Florida who are still digging out from the aftereffects of Hurricane Frances. One commentator speaking of the last weeks of the presidential campaign likened it to a hurricane like Frances. When it is all over, he said, there would be terrible damage done that will last a long time. All this and more we bring to church on this particular Sunday.
Jeremiah gave a series of laments for a very troubled nation. One commentator has called our Jeremiah passage almost total despair. But then the writer observed a soft note of grace in Jeremiah 4:27. Even though terrible things are happening all around them and evil is rampant, Jeremiah reminds God's people that the Almighty's redemptive purposes will not be ultimately thwarted (see Texts for Preaching -- Year C [Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994], p. 507).
Psalm 14 seems to join with Jeremiah in his own lamentations. "There is no one who does good" (vv. 1, 3). In verse 7, like Jeremiah he says that God's ultimate purposes will not be thwarted.
This may not be much comfort to those who have just buried their innocent children in Russia or anyone else facing hard times. But God's people are told to hang on, they are not in this thing alone. Perhaps a sermon should be preached as a lamentation. Lamentation is only part of the story -- but as we know from Psalms out of the depths of the hardness of life they came not from unbelievers but from people of faith.
Martin Marty wrote a splendid book after his first wife died. He called it A Cry of Absence, and he talked about how so much of what we believe and preach is a summertime kind of a faith when the skies are blue and the weather is warm. But he says that many of the Psalms were written during the winter of life when the streams freeze and the wind blows and God seems absent. Marty writes than even here, especially here, there is a word from the Lord. This redemptive love does not take away the winter, but it speaks pointedly to the winter of our discontent.
Ann Weems' little book Psalms of Lament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995) was written after her son was killed one hour after his twenty-first birthday. The book is dedicated "To those who weep and to those who weep with those who weep," which takes in almost all of us. One of her laments could be used somewhere in Sunday's worship.
Survival Stories, edited by Kathryn Rhett (New York: Doubleday, 1997), is a book that has helped me deal with the dark side of life. In this book, real people share their stories of the crisis moments in our lives.
Marshall Johnson responds: Jeremiah's word about creation reverting to primordial chaos is certainly one of the most gripping pieces of poetry in the Bible. For some readers it evokes images of nuclear war. It sheds shudders down the spine, and it makes clear that the prophet took no delight in announcing the disaster he foresaw for his people. Moreover, given Jeremiah's close connection with the Deuteronomic law (discovered during the renovation of the Temple during Josiah's reign), with its simple rewards-punishment schema, it is not surprising that he interpreted the coming terror as God's judgment for social injustice and for idolatry. Could he have thought anything else?
Throughout the centuries, people of faith have wrestled with the ideas of God's wrath and of the possibility of unmerited suffering. One of the reasons why no generally accepted explanation of such issues has been reached is that the Bible itself contains conflicting statements on the subject. Jeremiah himself looks forward to the time when the idea of corporate guilt is abolished: "In those days they shall no longer say: 'The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge.' But all shall die for their own sins ..." (31:29). And Jesus asserted on more than one occasion that the principle of retributive justice does not always apply in this life. The sun shines and the rain comes on both the evil and the good (Matthew 5:45), and disaster strikes without regard to the righteousness of the victims (Luke 13:1-5).
I wonder whether we can -- or should -- attribute to God actions and intentions that, when found among humans, are universally condemned as immoral. We would not tolerate it if one person's punishment is inflicted on an uninvolved bystander or if a relatively innocent person is abused in a psychological test.
As we read through the Bible, it becomes increasingly clear that God's love overcomes wrath, including God's own. It is well for us to concentrate on this truth and admit that we don't really know why both bad things and good happen to both good and bad people.
Carter Shelley responds: George, I appreciate the care and clarity of your thought as you make connections between Jeremiah and the people of Judah and the third anniversary of our nation's attack on 9/11. Your ability to present the perspective and interpretations provided by both conservative and liberal Christians makes it possible for the preacher to explore these events and interpretations without oversimplifying the causes or presuming to know and speak on God's behalf.
Knowledge of Jeremiah's life and prophecies in the book of Jeremiah makes it clear that Jeremiah did not enjoy prophesying terror and destruction. In fact, he writes of his attempts to keep quiet and of how impossible it was for him to resist God's word and will. Jeremiah preached judgment and punishment for decades. In those decades he survived death threats, social isolation, rejection of his warning words, and a significant time lag before his words came to pass. Yet when both judgment and punishment occurred through the Babylonian invasion, destruction of the temple, and exiling of the most prominent citizens of Judah, Jeremiah did not gloat or celebrate his victory. Jeremiah's prophecies were vindicated, but he derived no pleasure from the devastation he witnessed before friends hauled him off to Egypt for safekeeping.
If Jeremiah's own life echoes the tragedies of his people, one of his best-known prophecies also anticipates a new and better way. In Jeremiah 31:31-34, the prophet shares the new covenant God will establish with God's people. "The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah ... 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 ... for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more."
If the Babylonian conquest and exile were the most catastrophic of these divine judgments, it was also the point where God proclaims the need for a different kind of relationship between God and humanity. The covenant written upon the individual human heart instead of on clay tablets and rolls of papyri anticipates the coming of Christ. The people have an opportunity for repentance and change. They have been chastened and corrected. The parallels that George draws between the Israelites perception of themselves as God's chosen people and ours in America today ring true. Whether we are capable of making the same theological connection they do is less sure.
The Israelites failed to understand that the covenant laws God had given them were meant to be applied to all situations and circumstances in not only their personal lives but in their public and political lives as well. Rather than put their trust in God and righteous conduct, the people and nation trusted to foreign treaties, military buildup, and the things of this world. So long as our nation also uses the things of this world (weapons, airport inspections, military call-ups, economic bribes, etc.) to protect us and keep us strong, we are less open to finding a way out of the web of aggression, sin, and hate that many of us feel in this post-9/11 era. God has offered a better way. The new covenant Jeremiah proclaims in 31:31-34 engages the human heart and out of it can be brought forth the means for peace, righteousness, and love. Invading, bombing, imprisoning, threatening, abusing, excluding, fearing, and hating have led only to more deaths, more fear, more hate, and more terrorist acts. God in Christ shows us a better way.
The God who offers a new covenant established on the heart is depicted in this week's Gospel reading as a shepherd and a widow, both frantic to find a treasured possession. We are God's sheep, God's lost coin, God's children to redeem. God considers us worth saving. Why should we not rise to the occasion and be more loving, more righteous, more forgiving, and more generous than our American and Christian forefathers and foremothers? George's title "Back to Chaos" suggests to me that a lot depends on us as well as on our God. We can't command the wind or calm the rain, but we can examine the chaos in ourselves as well as the chaos we see all around us, and seek God's guidance and God's love to calm both so that we are not contributors to the international chaos so painfully present in 2004, the third anniversary of 9/11.
Here's another matter we need to keep in mind:
"Pastor Resigns with Admission He Plagiarized" reads the headline in the Monday, September 6, 2004 edition of The Charlotte Observer (www.charlotte.com/mld/observer/news/9592518.htm). The article begins as follows:
"The senior pastor at one of Charlotte's best-known churches stunned his congregation Sunday by admitting in a letter that depression led him to plagiarize sermons the past two years. The Rev. E. Glenn Wagner of Calvary Church resigned, asking for forgiveness in a letter read Sunday in his absence at four worship services."
The article goes on to describe Mr. Wagner's two-year long battle with depression and his mental and emotional fatigue in light of the multiple exhausting demands well-meaning congregations often place upon their pastors.
I am passing this information on in part to recognize how difficult and demanding it is for all of us to preach something new and fresh each Sunday, in part to invite prayer and understanding for a fellow pastor in distress, and also in order to offer a few tips on how to avoid plagiarizing when one utilizes online preaching resources such as this one:
Always give credit for any source you quote directly or paraphrase. Example: "One of the resources I regularly use in sermon preparation is CSS Publishing's The Immediate Word. George Murphy, the lead writer this week, offered a particularly helpful way to understand how American Christians and sixth-century Israelites resemble one another in our response to national tragedy ..."
If you are desperate and have a Sunday when you simply can't get it together to write a sermon, say so. Then (a) preach an old one, (b) read a theologically significant story, or (c) share a sermon composed by someone else, beginning with a statement about who the preacher is and why this sermon means a lot to you and you consider it worth sharing. To preach another person's complete sermon while presenting it as your own is forgery, not plagiarism. In plagiarism, one uses key illustrations, quotes, etc. without giving credit. In forgery, one takes an entire sermon, story, play, etc. and presents it as one's own original work. Both forgery and plagiarism are easily avoided in preaching. Always cite sources. You'll note in George's materials for this week that he uses a significant quote from James Sanders. George presents this quote in such a way that in both its written and spoken form, the congregation knows that particular insight comes from Sanders and not Murphy.
Congregations understand that ministers work long and hard. It impresses them to know that you've taken the time to consult other resources. In citing sources you not only stay honest, you also invite the congregation to pursue authors and resources that may enhance their own study and understanding. They also understand that you are sometimes caught by pastoral care tragedies, family demands, the flu, etc. Just be honest about it and tell them what you are substituting that Sunday in place of your own original proclamation.
Related Illustrations
from Carlos Wilton
I don't gather that God wants us to pretend our fear doesn't exist, to deny it, or eviscerate it. Fear is a reminder that we are creatures -- fragile, vulnerable, totally dependent on God. But fear shouldn't dominate or control or define us. Rather, it should submit to faith and love. Otherwise, fear can make us unbelieving, slavish, and inhuman. I have seen that struggle: containing my fear, rejecting its rule, recognizing that it saw only appearances, while faith and love saw substance, saw reality, saw God's bailiwick, so to speak: "Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid!"
-- Philip Berrigan
***
Whether or not our boat is literally being swamped, we sense with alarming regularity that we are sailing a fickle sea, on water we cannot channel, to wind whose direction and strength originate elsewhere, with companions bent on freedom and a God who rarely salutes our commands.
The result, as with the disciples, is fear. From nameless dread to well-defined terrors, we cringe before life and make our decisions, large and small, on the basis of fear. How else could politicians manipulate us the way they do? Why else would we buy more than we need? Why else would parents stifle their children? Why else would lovers turn against each other? Why else would we wage war, descend into bigotry, scapegoat the weak, punish the victim, and make God small?
We don't reason our way into inhumanity; we lapse into cruelty because we are afraid. We destroy that which we love and need the most because we are afraid....
Faith, you see, isn't a matter of right opinion. No doctrine ever saved a soul. Faith isn't a matter of appropriate practice. No liturgy ever tamed the beast within. Faith isn't a creed or label, or even a determination to serve nobly. Faith is victory over fear....
Faith doesn't control storms. Faith conquers fear. And it is the fear of helplessness, not helplessness itself, which drowns our hopes.
-- Tom Ehrich, "On a Journey: Meditations on God in Daily Life," June 21, 2003
***
Barbara Kingsolver reflects on 9/11:
This is what changed for us that day: not what we know, but how we feel. We have always lived in a world of constant sorrow and calamity, but most of us have never had to say before, It could have been me. My daughters and me on that plane, my husband in that building. I have stepped on that very pavement, I have probably sat on one of those planes. This was us, Americans at work, on vacation, going home, or just walking from one building to another. Alive, then dead....
...Worse disasters have happened -- if "worse" can be measured solely by the number of dead in practically every other country on earth. Two years earlier an earthquake in Turkey had killed three times as many people in one day, babies and mothers and businessmen. The November before that, a hurricane had hit Honduras and Nicaragua and killed even more, buried whole villages and erased family lines; even now, people wake up there empty-handed. Some disasters are termed "natural" (though it was war that left Nicaragua so vulnerable), and yet their victims are just as innocent as ours on September 11, and equally dead. Which end of the world should we talk about? Only the murderous kind? Sixty years ago, Japanese airplanes bombed U.S. Navy boys who were sleeping on ships in gentle Pacific waters. Three and a half years later, American planes bombed a plaza in Japan where men and women were going to work and schoolchildren were playing, and more humans died at once than anyone had ever thought possible: seventy thousand in a minute. Imagine, now that we can -- now that we have a number with which to compare it -- seventy thousand people dead in one minute. Then twice that many more, slowly, from the inside....
We all tend to raise up our compatriots' lives to a sacred level, thinking our own citizens to be more worthy of grief and less acceptably taken than lives on other soil. When many lives are lost all at once, people come together and speak words such as heinous and honor and revenge, presuming to make this awful moment stand apart somehow from the ways people die a little each day around the world from sickness or hunger. But broken hearts are not mended in this ceremony because really, every life that ends is utterly its own event....
This time it was us, leaving us trembling, leading my little daughter to ask quietly, "Will it happen to me, Mama?" I understood with the deepest sadness I've ever known that this was the wrong question to ask, and it always had been. It has always been happening to us -- in Nicaragua, in the Sudan, in Hiroshima, that night in Baghdad -- and now we finally know what it feels like. Now we may learn, from the taste of our own blood, that every war is both won and lost, and that loss is a pure, high note of anguish like a mother singing to an empty bed.
-- Barbara Kingsolver, "Flying," in Small Wonder: Essays (HarperCollins 2002), pp. 187-188
***
The philosophy that produces murderers is a philosophy of hate. Sometimes that philosophy burrows into religion for a home, whether that religion is Islam or Christianity. It lives in hate, not love. It deals in lies, not truth. It peddles violence, not peace. We won't ever forget Sept. 11, 2001. Let's not forget Sept. 15, 1963, either.
-- Cliff Vaughn, associate director, Baptist Center for Ethics, Nashville, Tenn., writing in an EthicsDaily.com column on the anniversary of the bombing of the 16th St. Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama
Worship Resources
by Julia Strope
CALL TO WORSHIP (based on Luke 15:1-10)
Leader: What a day! We breathe deeply of autumn air.
People: We are glad to be alive, even though sometimes we feel anxious. We are glad to be here in this space with one another.
Leader: The Gospel story for today speaks to our anxiousness. The images Jesus used with the religious leaders and lawyers touch on lostness of something precious.
People: Jesus also suggests that when we find the precious elements of living, we can notice inner satisfaction and celebrate it with others!
Leader: We feel happy, satisfied, and peaceful when we realize what is really important.
People: There is joy on earth and in heaven when we experience divine affirmation. We feel found.
Leader: God is here, guiding our search for peace and security.
People: We celebrate our community, our talents, our resources, and our awareness of the Holy.
PRAYER OF ADORATION (based on Luke 15)
Energy of the Universe, we are awed by Creation and its changing time and colors. Our appreciation and protection of the environment expand as we explore our place and our part in your ongoing creativity. Thank you for today and for sacred space. We celebrate life and your love. Amen.
HYMN SUGGESTIONS
"Ye Servants of God, Your Master Proclaim." Tune: Hanover. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #477.
"Praise, My Soul, the God of Heaven." Tune: Lauda Anima. Adapted 1974 by Ecumenical Women's Center. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #479.
"O Christ, the Healer." Tune: Erhalt Uns Herr. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #380.
"Lord, Make Us Servants of Your Peace." Tune: Dickinson College. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #374.
"Lord of All Good." Tune: Toulon. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #375.
CALL TO CONFESSION
Leader: The scriptures tell us many things about God. Today we are reminded that God judges our thoughts and our behaviors. Sometimes the consequences are severe. Let us look within and become aware of the thoughts and actions that are less than gracious and wholesome.
COMMUNITY CONFESSION (unison; meditation on Psalm 14 and Jeremiah 4)
Holy One, see what separates us from your grace and from our neighbors. Show us the patterns of behavior and the systems of thought that belittle the working of your Spirit with our spirits. Reveal to us what needs to be changed. Give us courage to receive your transforming beauty. Amen.
ASSURANCE OF PARDON/WORD OF GRACE
Leader: It is good news that God hears our confessions and our requests. No matter the chaos of our lives, God reaches us and re-orders our priorities. We are set free from our angst and given reason to rejoice.
CHORAL RESPONSE
"Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God," stanza one. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, #333.
AN AFFIRMATION (unison; based on 1 Timothy 1:12-20)
We believe that God supports us as we seek to feel connected to the Holy.
We believe that God is judge and lover, ready to satisfy our deepest longings.
We believe that we are responsible for how we live, for our attitudes, for our behaviors and for our awareness of Divine Presence.
We experience God re-creating goodness from our suffering, inviting us to celebrate life and its resources.
We experience God as we read the teachings of Jesus and walk in his footsteps.
We accept God's love manifest in Jesus the Christ and in others around us.
In life and in death, we are not alone. God is with us.
Hallelujah. Amen.
INTERCESSORY PRAYER
(Jeremiah)
God of chaos and order:
Nations rise and fall. Wars are waged; there are many victims and few victories. Heroes emerge and we humans are left with the need to understand why the terror, why the invasion into another's space, why the destruction of the land and life. Walk again into Palestine and Israel, into Iran and Iraq, into Sudan and Russia; into America and Great Britain; walk among every nation and clan brandishing peace and hope. Shape us all till every human is a vessel for your water of life.
(Timothy)
God of courage and fear:
How we long to walk through life sure that you are in charge of everything! Some days are better than others as we let your love encompass us. Some days it's easy to be gracious to our neighbors; some days our patience is in short supply and our self-control is very thin. Live through us as beauty and wholeness. When our fears prevent us from feeling your power, draw forth the courage necessary to interact graciously with our own bodies, our maturing children, our aging parents and our rapidly changing environment. Christ, walk with us as healer and guide.
(Luke and Philippians)
God of the lost and the found:
As we search for what is good and trustworthy, beautiful and satisfying, reveal to us what is absent from our lives; give us courage enough to take it in; bring us clearly to know the places we can walk with others through their pains and joys; keep us alert for the delightful surprises we can celebrate.
God of the faithful and floundering:
Last century, we were sure we had the answers. Yesteryear we thought familiar creeds were good enough. Yesterday technology offered us enough speed to google new data. Today we ask for more -- some certainty of your power, an unmistakable visitation of your love, an explanation for suffering, and a path to meet you, soul to Spirit. By whatever name and whatever technique, let us experience your relevance in the minutiae of every day. With our coffee and bagels, in our long work hours, and at our workouts, speak healing hope through us to a fractured culture. For Jesus' sake, Amen.
OFFERTORY STATEMENT
Leader: Here in this place, we have many ways to be God's hands and feet. Money is required to sustain this building, feed the hungry, purchase books, and buy equipment. Your skills are needed to teach, administrate, and question. Give as your conscience suggests.
PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING
Leader: Thank you, Living God, for the moneys and the talents offered here. Help us use them wisely. Amen.
BENEDICTION/CHARGE
Leader: God loves the world and all its creatures.
God wants the best for you
Now and for eternity.
Be alert for the ways God is finding you;
Respond with gratitude
And feel encompassed by Holy Spirit.
Go with joy to share Divine grace.
A Children's Sermon
This children's message on the 9/11 attack appeared in The Immediate Word installment for September 8, 2002.
Text: "Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law." (Romans 13:10)
Objects: a doorbell, a letter or telephone, and a newspaper
Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you remember 9/11? (let them answer) Do you remember where you were on that morning? (let them answer) Who told you about it? (let them answer) Were you afraid? (let them answer)
I think everyone was afraid that day because nothing like that had ever really happened to us before. America has been in military battles between countries before, but something like 9/11 was really different.
Does it make you angry when you think about it today? (let them answer) What do you think we should do about 9/11? (let them answer)
Let me ask you a couple of other questions. What do you do when someone hurts you? Do you try to hurt them the way they hurt you? (let them answer) My other question is this: What do your parents teach you to do when someone hurts you? Do they ask you to fight the people that hurt you? Do they tell you just to ignore them? Do they tell you not to have anything to do with them? (let them answer)
Finally, I have two more questions: What does your Sunday school teacher teach you about getting even, or what do you think Jesus would say to you or me if someone hurt us, and we wanted to know what to do? And what would Jesus say about 9/11? (let them answer)
Thank you for answering the questions. Jesus knew what it was like to be hurt and hated. There were a lot of people who wanted to hurt not only him but also anyone who liked him or worked with him. Being a friend of Jesus took a lot of courage. Finally, they actually killed him after beating him and making fun of him. But Jesus always remained the same. He listened, he forgave, and he loved both his enemies and his friends.
This is what it is like to be a Christian. Jesus thought of everyone like his neighbor. Jesus didn't live in a nice house like you do. He didn't have a neighbor where he could ring a doorbell, but if he had lived in a town or where you live he would have rung your doorbell and told you about how much he loved you and how much he loved your neighbor. Jesus didn't have a postman, but if he did he would have sent letters to people who lived in another town and told them how much he loved them. And Jesus didn't have a newspaper or TV, but if he had one of them he would have loved the people who lived in different countries and he would have told them so.
September 11th was a horrible day, and the people who did horrible things should be punished. But as Christians we are taught to love people and not hate them. Some people are really different when compared to us. They believe different things. They look different. They eat different foods and wear different clothes. Some of them do not like us and a few of them will try to harm us.
But Jesus tells us even to love people who hate us. It is a hard thing to do, but I believe in Jesus and I ask you to believe in Jesus. Love! Love! Love!
Who is our neighbor? Our neighbor is someone who lives next door, and I can tell my neighbor how much I love him/her by simply knocking on his/her door or ringing his/her doorbell. Our neighbor is someone who lives in another part of our town or somewhere in our country and I can write him/her a letter and tell him/her how much I love him/her or make a telephone call and tell him/her how much I love him/her. Our neighbor is also someone we will never meet. He or she lives in a strange country, dresses in a strange way, has a different language, a different religion, eats different food and maybe even hates us. But we must still love him/her.
Jesus teaches us that love is the only way to be to our neighbor. Not just one of the ways. It is the only way. Tough choice, but it is what Jesus did and what he asks us to do. God bless you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, September 12, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
In our lead article for this issue of The Immediate Word, team member George Murphy draws on the lectionary's First Lesson as the basis for reflections on the experience of tragedy and how people of faith might respond to it. The 9/11 event -- and other horrors in the news, like the deaths of hundreds in southern Russia -- involves a number of questions for us. Can we make sense of disasters of this magnitude? What or whom do we trust for our ultimate security? How do we avoid an idolatrous trust in the things that offer us penultimate security? Powerful and relevant as it is, the Jeremiah text seems to give us more questions than answers this week.
Team members provide their own take on these matters, and also offer illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
BACK TO CHAOS?
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
(Psalm 14; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10)
by George Murphy
This coming weekend, September 11 and 12, is the third anniversary of the most traumatic event in the recent history of the United States, the terrorist attack on America. The scenes of destruction in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania are still nightmares for some of us, and just the phrase "9/11" may still call up those images. And like it or not, there probably will be a lot of references to September 11th during this fall's presidential campaign.
Preachers aren't compelled to refer to those events, but many will feel that they should talk about them this week -- or perhaps that their congregations expect them to. What can you say from the pulpit on the day after those events have been recalled? Would this be a good time to forget the lectionary and find some other text to preach on?
I don't think that you need to go hunting through the Bible or a topical concordance for a relevant passage, because the First Reading for this Sunday, Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28, certainly has something to say to our situation. If we're haunted by those images from three years ago and fearful of further destruction, we hear Jeremiah telling of a vision in which he "looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void." It was a vision of lifeless emptiness. You could just read verses 23-28 to people with 9/11 on their minds and most of them would make a connection without further commentary.
The slightest familiarity with the book of Jeremiah will remind us that this threat of destruction is not unique in it. Jeremiah's mission was to speak to the nation of Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem as an unfaithful people who had abandoned their God and were threatened with the consequences of their evil deeds. It was probably natural that such threats against the little nation of Judah would take the form of foreign invasion.
Scholars have debated about the identity of the "foe from the north" in the early chapters of the book: Were they perhaps the nomadic Scythians (as used to be thought) or the armies of the Babylonian Empire under Nebuchadrezzar? It's certain that the final destruction -- of Jerusalem and its Temple, the organized cult of Yahweh, and of Judah as a nation -- did finally take place at the hands of the Babylonians (often "the Chaldeans" in Jeremiah) in 587 B.C. All of Jeremiah's prophecies of destruction would then be seen in relation to that catastrophic event.
While verses 23-28 of our text do not stand alone, they do have distinctive features that set them apart from other Old Testament prophecies of destruction. Most notable is the fact that there is nothing here about the arrival of enemy armies or people being led off into exile. Life itself seems to have vanished. The words "waste and void" in verse 23 translate thohu wabhohu, the same phrase found in Genesis 1:2 and translated there as "formless void" (NRSV) or "without form, and void" (KJV). This is a vision in which the world is unmade and returned to primordial chaos.
What did this mean for Jeremiah, and what was it supposed to mean for his listeners? Was the devastation that would follow foreign conquest supposed to be the working out of God's judgment upon Judah? It seems pretty clear from verse 12 that it was supposed to be understood in that way. And there is an even more disturbing question: Who will carry out this attack on Jerusalem? On one level, of course, it's armies of the invader. But there is an implication that it is God himself who is behind the attack.
In the First Lesson for last week, about Jeremiah's visit to the potter's house (18:1-11), God's message to Jerusalem was, "I am a potter shaping evil against you and devising a plan against you." The later book of Lamentations (which was not written by Jeremiah, though it is connected with him in the canon) is quite explicit:
"The Lord has destroyed without mercy all the dwellings of Jacob;
in his wrath he has broken down the strongholds of daughter Judah;
he has brought down to the ground in dishonor the kingdom and its rulers."
(Lamentations 2:2 -- but see the whole of 2:1-8)
All right, what does this mean for us on September 11 (for those who have Saturday evening services) or September 12 of 2004? Jeremiah's vision of lifeless wilderness and a return to chaos provides a powerful affective connection with our memories of what happened three years ago and our fears for the future. That can be a great sermon starter, but where do you go from there? We have to deal with the same questions that Jeremiah and his hearers faced. Did America suffer God's judgment because of the unfaithfulness of its people, as Jeremiah believed that Jerusalem would at the hands of the Babylonians? What will we make of the suggestion that it was the Lord who acted against America?
Was judgment being carried out on the United States on September 11? Were we getting our just deserts? The question will make many people uncomfortable and even angry -- and that for several reasons. In the first place, of course, we like to think of ourselves as the good guys and gals, and that while we may have our faults, we're certainly better than the murderous fanatics who attacked us. Then there's the fact that the attacks were completely undiscriminating, killing people of different religions and of no religion at all, good and bad alike. And then some of us are wary of a kind of guilt by association: prominent figures on the religious right said the attacks were God's judgment on America for its immorality, and we don't want to sound like them.
As far as the first two points are concerned, we have to remember that the same things could have been said by the inhabitants of Jerusalem in Jeremiah's time. "We're not perfect, but we're better than those idolatrous Babylonians." And not all the people of Jerusalem who would suffer in siege and battle and exile were unfaithful.
Concerning the third objection, the fact that we may disagree with major parts of the religious or political agendas of Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything. Perhaps they were onto something with their idea about divine judgment, but wrong in whole or in part about the cause for it.
I think that here a slight detour may be helpful because of misconceptions that some people have about this idea of divine judgment. I was on the ELCA's environmental task force that developed our 1993 social statement "Caring for Creation." One of the things that we said in this document was that creation is disrupted because of human sin, and that "we experience nature as an instrument of God's judgment" -- and reference was made to Jeremiah 4:23-28. Did this mean that God would punish our acts of pollution, destruction of habitats, and so forth by suddenly pouring down fire from heaven to turn the earth into a lifeless wilderness? Of course not! The judgment is that God lets the consequences of our actions happen to us. We may turn the earth, or parts of it, into a lifeless wilderness ourselves!
That is one way of understanding what happened to ancient Jerusalem. Its destruction was a result of the religious, social, and political policies of the rulers of Judah. We don't have to imagine God miraculously manipulating Nebuchadrezzar to attack Jerusalem, but God could use the Babylonians, who were following a quite typical imperial policy, as the instrument of his judgment.
Religious conservatives may talk about God's judgment coming upon America for its immorality, and especially for sexual immorality. And the perception of America's sexual immorality is one reason that Islamic radicals see us as a corrupting influence that must be destroyed. Liberal Christians may be critical of political policies of the United States that seem to them unjust, such as American support of corrupt Arab governments to ensure our oil supply or backing Israel against the Palestinians. And, of course, those are also reasons why Islamic radicals have declared a jihad of the sword against the United States.
If one or both of those Christian analyses of America's sins is correct (and I won't state my views on that here), it's quite consistent with the biblical picture of God's actions to think that God could have used Al Qaeda, motivated by those issues, to carry out an act of judgment on America. That would not mean any divine endorsement of Osama bin Laden, any more than of Nebuchadrezzar. Of course, that idea is objectionable if one thinks that God is a tame deity who never exercises judgment or that America is not subject to it.
Or consider another example. At Lincoln's second inauguration, the end of the Civil War was just weeks away and the president could easily have given a purely triumphal speech. Instead, his short address was rather somber. Toward the end of it he said:
"Fondly do we hope -- fervently do we pray -- that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled up by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, 'The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' " (The Works of Abraham Lincoln [The University Society, 1908] 5:225)
Again, Lincoln was not thinking of some supernatural punishment but of "the judgments of the Lord" upon the country being carried out by what its people would do to themselves. And while the war did not continue for long thereafter, the whole history of racial oppression and strife since 1865 has continued to mark the United States, rather as criminals used to be branded. But it has been the oppressed rather than the oppressors, the innocent rather than the guilty, who have borne most of the consequences of our history of slavery.
And that brings us back to one of our earlier questions. What about the objection that the attack on America killed innocent people -- at least innocent of the policies that might have brought about the attack? If God acts in the world in such a way as to respect the integrity of created agents and within their capacities, God's actions themselves will necessarily be limited. Bad things happen to good people not because God just can't help it (as process theology suggests) but because God allows creatures to operate in accord with the natures God has given them, and does not miraculously overwhelm them to force them to do "unnatural" things.
Such a limitation is not just an arbitrary choice on God's part "not to get involved." God is involved in everything that happens, but does not exercise absolute divine power. The divine kenosis in God's supreme act of the passion and death of Christ (Philippians 2:6-8) points to such a divine limitation in God's actions in the world generally. (Kenotic views of divine action have received a great deal of attention recently in the science-theology dialogue. See, e.g., John Polkinghorne, ed., The Work of Love: Creation as Kenosis [Eerdmans, 2001].) And if such divine limitation in the face of evil seems unjust, we're reminded by the Philippians text that the typical sufferer from this injustice is -- God himself.
But I want to turn now to an idea that probably offers more homiletic possibility, the belief that America has been especially blessed by God and that we are the beacon of freedom for the world. And if that's the case, how could God let America be destroyed, or even threaten its destruction?
Grant for the sake of argument that God has given America a special role in the world -- a role that may not make it any better than any other nation. The people of Judah could certainly claim a special role, because God had chosen them. The religious and political institutions in Jerusalem had been established by God. Prophets like Jeremiah's opponent Hananiah then seemed quite reasonable when they promised the people that Jerusalem was safe (Jeremiah 28). Jeremiah's message was quite different.
An excellent statement of the difference between the message of the false prophets and that of real ones like Jeremiah and Ezekiel is found in James Sanders' Torah and Canon (Fortress, 1972), p. 87. In reading this you need to realize that the "normal folk, in their right minds" who are mentioned midway through this passage are just that -- ordinary people to whom the "everything will be all right" message of the false prophets sounds very plausible. These "normal folk," truth to tell, probably include many of us. (After all, we see the false prophets as false and ones like Jeremiah as true because of our advantage of hindsight.)
"For the prophets were true monotheists, and nothing they said so stressed their monotheism as the idea that God was free enough of his chosen people to transform them in the crucible of destitution into a community whose members could themselves be free of every institution which in his providence he might give them. Their real hope, according to these prophets, lay in the God who had given them their existence in the first place, in his giving it to them again. Normal folk, in their right minds, know that hope is in having things turn out the way they think they should -- by maintaining their view of life without let, threat, or hindrance. And normal folk believe in a god who will simply make things turn out that way. For them it is not a question of what God ought to do, that is clear: he will do what we know is right for him to do, if we simply trust and obey. Nobody in his right mind could possibly believe that God wants us to die in order to give us life again, or to take away the old institutions he first gave us in order to give us new ones."
Lots of religions threaten destruction, and religions that promise that we can avoid suffering and have everything turn out well are very popular. The radical thing about prophetic faith is that it speaks of a God who can destroy, or allow to be destroyed, everything his promise seems to depend upon -- and still be faithful to his promise! (Kierkegaard's discussion in Fear and Trembling of Abraham's faith when he was told to sacrifice Isaac may come to mind.) That comes to fullest expression in the resurrection of the crucified.
In other words, in spite of destruction there is hope. It's a hope that can only be appreciated when the threat of judgment has been accepted. Almost buried in Jeremiah's vision of the return to chaos are God's words, "Yet I will not make a full end." It's a short message, nothing like the lengthy descriptions of coming disaster. That seems to be typical of the prophetic books: The promise sections are much shorter than the judgment ones. (And in the Gospels, the Easter stories take up much less space than the passion narratives.) Maybe that's because it's so hard to get people's attention, and until the law does its work, the gospel can't.
The major concern that 9/11 brought about for Americans (and for many other people in the world) has been security. We saw examples of that during the Republican convention, and we encounter it every time we go to an airport. No sensible person is going to say that we shouldn't take reasonable precautions against suicide bombers or airplane hijackers.
But those are matters of our penultimate security, and we are called to shun the idolatry of treating measures to assure it as ultimate. What is our ultimate security? If the answer "God" is given too quickly to that question we may have reason to wonder if the radical nature of prophetic faith has been grasped. Is that "God" the one who, in Sanders' words, "will do what we know is right for him to do, if we simply trust and obey"? Or is it the God who "wants us to die in order to give us life again, or to take away the old institutions he first gave us in order to give us new ones"?
I think that simply focusing on this distinction between ultimate and penultimate security might be one of the most helpful things to do on this Sunday. Yes, you hope that nobody gets a bomb aboard your plane. Preventing that isn't a theological task. But suppose they do?
If you want to concentrate on the theme of judgment, it might be better to title the sermon something like "Has America Come under Judgment?" rather than "9/11 Was God's Judgment for Sin X, Y, or Z." None of us can claim the same kind of inspiration that Jeremiah had. It could be helpful to encourage penitent social reflection on what is wrong with America and the need for divine forgiveness and amendment of life. And that ought to be reflection on sins that we participate in, not the sins of others that have supposedly provoked divine wrath. There's enough fire and brimstone in the evening news. Some subtlety is called for this weekend.
Finally, the most recent terrorist attack on a school in Russia reminds us that this is not just an American problem. Russian Christians may be asking themselves now the same kinds of questions that we were asking ourselves in the days just after September 11, 2001. For the past fifteen years there has been talk about a "new world order," and some Christians have made that an ominous part of apocalyptic speculation. In reality, what we've had to face since 9/11 has been in a sense a new world disorder, a painful feeling of insecurity in almost every country. But it need not be a return to "waste and void." The calling of the church -- and of its individual preachers -- is indeed to announce that all the nations are subject to God's judgment, but that they can also hope for God's universal mercy. "Yet I will not make a full end."
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: Three years ago, the United States of America was devastated by the 9/11 attacks. The destruction went far deeper than the physical locations in New York, Washington, and western Pennsylvania where the planes crashed. "Life will never be the same again," the pundits were saying at the time. And they were right.
Life is changed, not so much because of what the terrorists have done to us, but because of what we are continuing to do to ourselves. In many ways, we are a nation still living in fear.
America heaved a collective sigh of relief once the recent Republican convention was over. That event -- which brought a huge concentration of senior government officials to a hard-to-police Manhattan location -- had seemed like an irresistible target for terrorists. A mid-August article by New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof ("The Nuclear Shadow," New York Times, August 14, 2004) further fanned the flames of fear by predicting that the terrorist explosion of a nuclear "dirty bomb" in a population center like midtown Manhattan is all but inevitable in the next decade or so. Many New Yorkers experienced nightmare visions that the Republican convention could be the ideal venue for such an atrocity.
Pastorally, I think it's important to address memories of 9/11 -- but not because this anniversary ought to be commemorated annually in perpetuity by solemn memorial services. (Even the Victorians, who loved the black-lace pageantry of death, thought the veils and armbands ought to go back into the trunk after a year or so.) No, we need to continue to revisit 9/11 from the pulpit because the demon of fear is still with us, and in some ways is even stronger than before.
Fear makes people -- and nations -- do strange things, things they may later regret. The 9/11 terrorists' most horrific legacy is that they have succeeded in making us a people of fear. As long as our nation's policies are driven by fear, we will continue to be at risk of losing our moral values, perpetuating atrocities like the Abu Ghraib prison abuses.
It's time we put 9/11 in proper perspective. The terrorists who hijacked the three airliners on 9/11 were not an overwhelming force. They were armed not with automatic weapons but with box-cutters. Their real weapons were (1) stealth, (2) surprise, and (3) the fanatical willingness to commit an act -- the murder of hundreds plus their own suicide -- that the world considered so morally abhorrent as to be unimaginable. The recent attack on a Russian elementary school shows how easily, in the terrorists' grisly calculus of one-upmanship, the previously unimaginable can again become the stuff of headlines: but this still does not mean most of us are in imminent danger of falling victim to such attacks.
I was at first concerned, George, when I heard you were planning to use this week's Jeremiah text as a way of addressing the 9/11 anniversary. The text could be so easily be misused to fan irrational fears. We've already heard way too many prophets of doom straining to explain the collapsing Trade Center towers as God's judgment on a heathen city. (Was Mohammad Atta truly the instrument of God's revenge? Is Gotham really the theological equivalent of Gomorrah? The likes of Falwell and Robertson may think so, but I myself will never join their number.) The distinction you draw, however, is helpful: the judgment Jeremiah is speaking of is God's cosmic judgment of creation at the end of time, not any lesser conflagration. More than anything, this passage witnesses to the ultimate sovereignty of God.
Remembering this may help us all maintain our perspective. The earth made "waste and void," the heavens bereft of light, the very mountains shaking, the sudden transformation of vineyards into barren deserts: these are not sights we have ever seen before -- on 9/11 or at any other time. God is ultimately the only one who can make "a full end."
Yet -- as you rightly remind us, George, focusing on verse 27 -- not even God will go so far as to do that. The Lord may bring judgment, but the Lord will always cultivate a faithful remnant. Even out of terror comes hope. Let us live, therefore, as people of faith, not people of fear.
Roger Lovette responds: This week The Immediate Word speaks to the human condition. Not only do we turn back in our thinking to September 11, when the world changed for most of us, but on this anniversary we bring with us the terrible news from Beslan, Russia, where on the first day of classes terrorists took over a school. The early death toll is 322, with many children missing. One mother interviewed on television lost twin eleven-year-old girls that day. Coupled with this are the thousands in Florida who are still digging out from the aftereffects of Hurricane Frances. One commentator speaking of the last weeks of the presidential campaign likened it to a hurricane like Frances. When it is all over, he said, there would be terrible damage done that will last a long time. All this and more we bring to church on this particular Sunday.
Jeremiah gave a series of laments for a very troubled nation. One commentator has called our Jeremiah passage almost total despair. But then the writer observed a soft note of grace in Jeremiah 4:27. Even though terrible things are happening all around them and evil is rampant, Jeremiah reminds God's people that the Almighty's redemptive purposes will not be ultimately thwarted (see Texts for Preaching -- Year C [Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994], p. 507).
Psalm 14 seems to join with Jeremiah in his own lamentations. "There is no one who does good" (vv. 1, 3). In verse 7, like Jeremiah he says that God's ultimate purposes will not be thwarted.
This may not be much comfort to those who have just buried their innocent children in Russia or anyone else facing hard times. But God's people are told to hang on, they are not in this thing alone. Perhaps a sermon should be preached as a lamentation. Lamentation is only part of the story -- but as we know from Psalms out of the depths of the hardness of life they came not from unbelievers but from people of faith.
Martin Marty wrote a splendid book after his first wife died. He called it A Cry of Absence, and he talked about how so much of what we believe and preach is a summertime kind of a faith when the skies are blue and the weather is warm. But he says that many of the Psalms were written during the winter of life when the streams freeze and the wind blows and God seems absent. Marty writes than even here, especially here, there is a word from the Lord. This redemptive love does not take away the winter, but it speaks pointedly to the winter of our discontent.
Ann Weems' little book Psalms of Lament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995) was written after her son was killed one hour after his twenty-first birthday. The book is dedicated "To those who weep and to those who weep with those who weep," which takes in almost all of us. One of her laments could be used somewhere in Sunday's worship.
Survival Stories, edited by Kathryn Rhett (New York: Doubleday, 1997), is a book that has helped me deal with the dark side of life. In this book, real people share their stories of the crisis moments in our lives.
Marshall Johnson responds: Jeremiah's word about creation reverting to primordial chaos is certainly one of the most gripping pieces of poetry in the Bible. For some readers it evokes images of nuclear war. It sheds shudders down the spine, and it makes clear that the prophet took no delight in announcing the disaster he foresaw for his people. Moreover, given Jeremiah's close connection with the Deuteronomic law (discovered during the renovation of the Temple during Josiah's reign), with its simple rewards-punishment schema, it is not surprising that he interpreted the coming terror as God's judgment for social injustice and for idolatry. Could he have thought anything else?
Throughout the centuries, people of faith have wrestled with the ideas of God's wrath and of the possibility of unmerited suffering. One of the reasons why no generally accepted explanation of such issues has been reached is that the Bible itself contains conflicting statements on the subject. Jeremiah himself looks forward to the time when the idea of corporate guilt is abolished: "In those days they shall no longer say: 'The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge.' But all shall die for their own sins ..." (31:29). And Jesus asserted on more than one occasion that the principle of retributive justice does not always apply in this life. The sun shines and the rain comes on both the evil and the good (Matthew 5:45), and disaster strikes without regard to the righteousness of the victims (Luke 13:1-5).
I wonder whether we can -- or should -- attribute to God actions and intentions that, when found among humans, are universally condemned as immoral. We would not tolerate it if one person's punishment is inflicted on an uninvolved bystander or if a relatively innocent person is abused in a psychological test.
As we read through the Bible, it becomes increasingly clear that God's love overcomes wrath, including God's own. It is well for us to concentrate on this truth and admit that we don't really know why both bad things and good happen to both good and bad people.
Carter Shelley responds: George, I appreciate the care and clarity of your thought as you make connections between Jeremiah and the people of Judah and the third anniversary of our nation's attack on 9/11. Your ability to present the perspective and interpretations provided by both conservative and liberal Christians makes it possible for the preacher to explore these events and interpretations without oversimplifying the causes or presuming to know and speak on God's behalf.
Knowledge of Jeremiah's life and prophecies in the book of Jeremiah makes it clear that Jeremiah did not enjoy prophesying terror and destruction. In fact, he writes of his attempts to keep quiet and of how impossible it was for him to resist God's word and will. Jeremiah preached judgment and punishment for decades. In those decades he survived death threats, social isolation, rejection of his warning words, and a significant time lag before his words came to pass. Yet when both judgment and punishment occurred through the Babylonian invasion, destruction of the temple, and exiling of the most prominent citizens of Judah, Jeremiah did not gloat or celebrate his victory. Jeremiah's prophecies were vindicated, but he derived no pleasure from the devastation he witnessed before friends hauled him off to Egypt for safekeeping.
If Jeremiah's own life echoes the tragedies of his people, one of his best-known prophecies also anticipates a new and better way. In Jeremiah 31:31-34, the prophet shares the new covenant God will establish with God's people. "The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah ... 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 ... for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more."
If the Babylonian conquest and exile were the most catastrophic of these divine judgments, it was also the point where God proclaims the need for a different kind of relationship between God and humanity. The covenant written upon the individual human heart instead of on clay tablets and rolls of papyri anticipates the coming of Christ. The people have an opportunity for repentance and change. They have been chastened and corrected. The parallels that George draws between the Israelites perception of themselves as God's chosen people and ours in America today ring true. Whether we are capable of making the same theological connection they do is less sure.
The Israelites failed to understand that the covenant laws God had given them were meant to be applied to all situations and circumstances in not only their personal lives but in their public and political lives as well. Rather than put their trust in God and righteous conduct, the people and nation trusted to foreign treaties, military buildup, and the things of this world. So long as our nation also uses the things of this world (weapons, airport inspections, military call-ups, economic bribes, etc.) to protect us and keep us strong, we are less open to finding a way out of the web of aggression, sin, and hate that many of us feel in this post-9/11 era. God has offered a better way. The new covenant Jeremiah proclaims in 31:31-34 engages the human heart and out of it can be brought forth the means for peace, righteousness, and love. Invading, bombing, imprisoning, threatening, abusing, excluding, fearing, and hating have led only to more deaths, more fear, more hate, and more terrorist acts. God in Christ shows us a better way.
The God who offers a new covenant established on the heart is depicted in this week's Gospel reading as a shepherd and a widow, both frantic to find a treasured possession. We are God's sheep, God's lost coin, God's children to redeem. God considers us worth saving. Why should we not rise to the occasion and be more loving, more righteous, more forgiving, and more generous than our American and Christian forefathers and foremothers? George's title "Back to Chaos" suggests to me that a lot depends on us as well as on our God. We can't command the wind or calm the rain, but we can examine the chaos in ourselves as well as the chaos we see all around us, and seek God's guidance and God's love to calm both so that we are not contributors to the international chaos so painfully present in 2004, the third anniversary of 9/11.
Here's another matter we need to keep in mind:
"Pastor Resigns with Admission He Plagiarized" reads the headline in the Monday, September 6, 2004 edition of The Charlotte Observer (www.charlotte.com/mld/observer/news/9592518.htm). The article begins as follows:
"The senior pastor at one of Charlotte's best-known churches stunned his congregation Sunday by admitting in a letter that depression led him to plagiarize sermons the past two years. The Rev. E. Glenn Wagner of Calvary Church resigned, asking for forgiveness in a letter read Sunday in his absence at four worship services."
The article goes on to describe Mr. Wagner's two-year long battle with depression and his mental and emotional fatigue in light of the multiple exhausting demands well-meaning congregations often place upon their pastors.
I am passing this information on in part to recognize how difficult and demanding it is for all of us to preach something new and fresh each Sunday, in part to invite prayer and understanding for a fellow pastor in distress, and also in order to offer a few tips on how to avoid plagiarizing when one utilizes online preaching resources such as this one:
Always give credit for any source you quote directly or paraphrase. Example: "One of the resources I regularly use in sermon preparation is CSS Publishing's The Immediate Word. George Murphy, the lead writer this week, offered a particularly helpful way to understand how American Christians and sixth-century Israelites resemble one another in our response to national tragedy ..."
If you are desperate and have a Sunday when you simply can't get it together to write a sermon, say so. Then (a) preach an old one, (b) read a theologically significant story, or (c) share a sermon composed by someone else, beginning with a statement about who the preacher is and why this sermon means a lot to you and you consider it worth sharing. To preach another person's complete sermon while presenting it as your own is forgery, not plagiarism. In plagiarism, one uses key illustrations, quotes, etc. without giving credit. In forgery, one takes an entire sermon, story, play, etc. and presents it as one's own original work. Both forgery and plagiarism are easily avoided in preaching. Always cite sources. You'll note in George's materials for this week that he uses a significant quote from James Sanders. George presents this quote in such a way that in both its written and spoken form, the congregation knows that particular insight comes from Sanders and not Murphy.
Congregations understand that ministers work long and hard. It impresses them to know that you've taken the time to consult other resources. In citing sources you not only stay honest, you also invite the congregation to pursue authors and resources that may enhance their own study and understanding. They also understand that you are sometimes caught by pastoral care tragedies, family demands, the flu, etc. Just be honest about it and tell them what you are substituting that Sunday in place of your own original proclamation.
Related Illustrations
from Carlos Wilton
I don't gather that God wants us to pretend our fear doesn't exist, to deny it, or eviscerate it. Fear is a reminder that we are creatures -- fragile, vulnerable, totally dependent on God. But fear shouldn't dominate or control or define us. Rather, it should submit to faith and love. Otherwise, fear can make us unbelieving, slavish, and inhuman. I have seen that struggle: containing my fear, rejecting its rule, recognizing that it saw only appearances, while faith and love saw substance, saw reality, saw God's bailiwick, so to speak: "Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid!"
-- Philip Berrigan
***
Whether or not our boat is literally being swamped, we sense with alarming regularity that we are sailing a fickle sea, on water we cannot channel, to wind whose direction and strength originate elsewhere, with companions bent on freedom and a God who rarely salutes our commands.
The result, as with the disciples, is fear. From nameless dread to well-defined terrors, we cringe before life and make our decisions, large and small, on the basis of fear. How else could politicians manipulate us the way they do? Why else would we buy more than we need? Why else would parents stifle their children? Why else would lovers turn against each other? Why else would we wage war, descend into bigotry, scapegoat the weak, punish the victim, and make God small?
We don't reason our way into inhumanity; we lapse into cruelty because we are afraid. We destroy that which we love and need the most because we are afraid....
Faith, you see, isn't a matter of right opinion. No doctrine ever saved a soul. Faith isn't a matter of appropriate practice. No liturgy ever tamed the beast within. Faith isn't a creed or label, or even a determination to serve nobly. Faith is victory over fear....
Faith doesn't control storms. Faith conquers fear. And it is the fear of helplessness, not helplessness itself, which drowns our hopes.
-- Tom Ehrich, "On a Journey: Meditations on God in Daily Life," June 21, 2003
***
Barbara Kingsolver reflects on 9/11:
This is what changed for us that day: not what we know, but how we feel. We have always lived in a world of constant sorrow and calamity, but most of us have never had to say before, It could have been me. My daughters and me on that plane, my husband in that building. I have stepped on that very pavement, I have probably sat on one of those planes. This was us, Americans at work, on vacation, going home, or just walking from one building to another. Alive, then dead....
...Worse disasters have happened -- if "worse" can be measured solely by the number of dead in practically every other country on earth. Two years earlier an earthquake in Turkey had killed three times as many people in one day, babies and mothers and businessmen. The November before that, a hurricane had hit Honduras and Nicaragua and killed even more, buried whole villages and erased family lines; even now, people wake up there empty-handed. Some disasters are termed "natural" (though it was war that left Nicaragua so vulnerable), and yet their victims are just as innocent as ours on September 11, and equally dead. Which end of the world should we talk about? Only the murderous kind? Sixty years ago, Japanese airplanes bombed U.S. Navy boys who were sleeping on ships in gentle Pacific waters. Three and a half years later, American planes bombed a plaza in Japan where men and women were going to work and schoolchildren were playing, and more humans died at once than anyone had ever thought possible: seventy thousand in a minute. Imagine, now that we can -- now that we have a number with which to compare it -- seventy thousand people dead in one minute. Then twice that many more, slowly, from the inside....
We all tend to raise up our compatriots' lives to a sacred level, thinking our own citizens to be more worthy of grief and less acceptably taken than lives on other soil. When many lives are lost all at once, people come together and speak words such as heinous and honor and revenge, presuming to make this awful moment stand apart somehow from the ways people die a little each day around the world from sickness or hunger. But broken hearts are not mended in this ceremony because really, every life that ends is utterly its own event....
This time it was us, leaving us trembling, leading my little daughter to ask quietly, "Will it happen to me, Mama?" I understood with the deepest sadness I've ever known that this was the wrong question to ask, and it always had been. It has always been happening to us -- in Nicaragua, in the Sudan, in Hiroshima, that night in Baghdad -- and now we finally know what it feels like. Now we may learn, from the taste of our own blood, that every war is both won and lost, and that loss is a pure, high note of anguish like a mother singing to an empty bed.
-- Barbara Kingsolver, "Flying," in Small Wonder: Essays (HarperCollins 2002), pp. 187-188
***
The philosophy that produces murderers is a philosophy of hate. Sometimes that philosophy burrows into religion for a home, whether that religion is Islam or Christianity. It lives in hate, not love. It deals in lies, not truth. It peddles violence, not peace. We won't ever forget Sept. 11, 2001. Let's not forget Sept. 15, 1963, either.
-- Cliff Vaughn, associate director, Baptist Center for Ethics, Nashville, Tenn., writing in an EthicsDaily.com column on the anniversary of the bombing of the 16th St. Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama
Worship Resources
by Julia Strope
CALL TO WORSHIP (based on Luke 15:1-10)
Leader: What a day! We breathe deeply of autumn air.
People: We are glad to be alive, even though sometimes we feel anxious. We are glad to be here in this space with one another.
Leader: The Gospel story for today speaks to our anxiousness. The images Jesus used with the religious leaders and lawyers touch on lostness of something precious.
People: Jesus also suggests that when we find the precious elements of living, we can notice inner satisfaction and celebrate it with others!
Leader: We feel happy, satisfied, and peaceful when we realize what is really important.
People: There is joy on earth and in heaven when we experience divine affirmation. We feel found.
Leader: God is here, guiding our search for peace and security.
People: We celebrate our community, our talents, our resources, and our awareness of the Holy.
PRAYER OF ADORATION (based on Luke 15)
Energy of the Universe, we are awed by Creation and its changing time and colors. Our appreciation and protection of the environment expand as we explore our place and our part in your ongoing creativity. Thank you for today and for sacred space. We celebrate life and your love. Amen.
HYMN SUGGESTIONS
"Ye Servants of God, Your Master Proclaim." Tune: Hanover. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #477.
"Praise, My Soul, the God of Heaven." Tune: Lauda Anima. Adapted 1974 by Ecumenical Women's Center. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #479.
"O Christ, the Healer." Tune: Erhalt Uns Herr. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #380.
"Lord, Make Us Servants of Your Peace." Tune: Dickinson College. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #374.
"Lord of All Good." Tune: Toulon. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, #375.
CALL TO CONFESSION
Leader: The scriptures tell us many things about God. Today we are reminded that God judges our thoughts and our behaviors. Sometimes the consequences are severe. Let us look within and become aware of the thoughts and actions that are less than gracious and wholesome.
COMMUNITY CONFESSION (unison; meditation on Psalm 14 and Jeremiah 4)
Holy One, see what separates us from your grace and from our neighbors. Show us the patterns of behavior and the systems of thought that belittle the working of your Spirit with our spirits. Reveal to us what needs to be changed. Give us courage to receive your transforming beauty. Amen.
ASSURANCE OF PARDON/WORD OF GRACE
Leader: It is good news that God hears our confessions and our requests. No matter the chaos of our lives, God reaches us and re-orders our priorities. We are set free from our angst and given reason to rejoice.
CHORAL RESPONSE
"Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God," stanza one. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, #333.
AN AFFIRMATION (unison; based on 1 Timothy 1:12-20)
We believe that God supports us as we seek to feel connected to the Holy.
We believe that God is judge and lover, ready to satisfy our deepest longings.
We believe that we are responsible for how we live, for our attitudes, for our behaviors and for our awareness of Divine Presence.
We experience God re-creating goodness from our suffering, inviting us to celebrate life and its resources.
We experience God as we read the teachings of Jesus and walk in his footsteps.
We accept God's love manifest in Jesus the Christ and in others around us.
In life and in death, we are not alone. God is with us.
Hallelujah. Amen.
INTERCESSORY PRAYER
(Jeremiah)
God of chaos and order:
Nations rise and fall. Wars are waged; there are many victims and few victories. Heroes emerge and we humans are left with the need to understand why the terror, why the invasion into another's space, why the destruction of the land and life. Walk again into Palestine and Israel, into Iran and Iraq, into Sudan and Russia; into America and Great Britain; walk among every nation and clan brandishing peace and hope. Shape us all till every human is a vessel for your water of life.
(Timothy)
God of courage and fear:
How we long to walk through life sure that you are in charge of everything! Some days are better than others as we let your love encompass us. Some days it's easy to be gracious to our neighbors; some days our patience is in short supply and our self-control is very thin. Live through us as beauty and wholeness. When our fears prevent us from feeling your power, draw forth the courage necessary to interact graciously with our own bodies, our maturing children, our aging parents and our rapidly changing environment. Christ, walk with us as healer and guide.
(Luke and Philippians)
God of the lost and the found:
As we search for what is good and trustworthy, beautiful and satisfying, reveal to us what is absent from our lives; give us courage enough to take it in; bring us clearly to know the places we can walk with others through their pains and joys; keep us alert for the delightful surprises we can celebrate.
God of the faithful and floundering:
Last century, we were sure we had the answers. Yesteryear we thought familiar creeds were good enough. Yesterday technology offered us enough speed to google new data. Today we ask for more -- some certainty of your power, an unmistakable visitation of your love, an explanation for suffering, and a path to meet you, soul to Spirit. By whatever name and whatever technique, let us experience your relevance in the minutiae of every day. With our coffee and bagels, in our long work hours, and at our workouts, speak healing hope through us to a fractured culture. For Jesus' sake, Amen.
OFFERTORY STATEMENT
Leader: Here in this place, we have many ways to be God's hands and feet. Money is required to sustain this building, feed the hungry, purchase books, and buy equipment. Your skills are needed to teach, administrate, and question. Give as your conscience suggests.
PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING
Leader: Thank you, Living God, for the moneys and the talents offered here. Help us use them wisely. Amen.
BENEDICTION/CHARGE
Leader: God loves the world and all its creatures.
God wants the best for you
Now and for eternity.
Be alert for the ways God is finding you;
Respond with gratitude
And feel encompassed by Holy Spirit.
Go with joy to share Divine grace.
A Children's Sermon
This children's message on the 9/11 attack appeared in The Immediate Word installment for September 8, 2002.
Text: "Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law." (Romans 13:10)
Objects: a doorbell, a letter or telephone, and a newspaper
Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you remember 9/11? (let them answer) Do you remember where you were on that morning? (let them answer) Who told you about it? (let them answer) Were you afraid? (let them answer)
I think everyone was afraid that day because nothing like that had ever really happened to us before. America has been in military battles between countries before, but something like 9/11 was really different.
Does it make you angry when you think about it today? (let them answer) What do you think we should do about 9/11? (let them answer)
Let me ask you a couple of other questions. What do you do when someone hurts you? Do you try to hurt them the way they hurt you? (let them answer) My other question is this: What do your parents teach you to do when someone hurts you? Do they ask you to fight the people that hurt you? Do they tell you just to ignore them? Do they tell you not to have anything to do with them? (let them answer)
Finally, I have two more questions: What does your Sunday school teacher teach you about getting even, or what do you think Jesus would say to you or me if someone hurt us, and we wanted to know what to do? And what would Jesus say about 9/11? (let them answer)
Thank you for answering the questions. Jesus knew what it was like to be hurt and hated. There were a lot of people who wanted to hurt not only him but also anyone who liked him or worked with him. Being a friend of Jesus took a lot of courage. Finally, they actually killed him after beating him and making fun of him. But Jesus always remained the same. He listened, he forgave, and he loved both his enemies and his friends.
This is what it is like to be a Christian. Jesus thought of everyone like his neighbor. Jesus didn't live in a nice house like you do. He didn't have a neighbor where he could ring a doorbell, but if he had lived in a town or where you live he would have rung your doorbell and told you about how much he loved you and how much he loved your neighbor. Jesus didn't have a postman, but if he did he would have sent letters to people who lived in another town and told them how much he loved them. And Jesus didn't have a newspaper or TV, but if he had one of them he would have loved the people who lived in different countries and he would have told them so.
September 11th was a horrible day, and the people who did horrible things should be punished. But as Christians we are taught to love people and not hate them. Some people are really different when compared to us. They believe different things. They look different. They eat different foods and wear different clothes. Some of them do not like us and a few of them will try to harm us.
But Jesus tells us even to love people who hate us. It is a hard thing to do, but I believe in Jesus and I ask you to believe in Jesus. Love! Love! Love!
Who is our neighbor? Our neighbor is someone who lives next door, and I can tell my neighbor how much I love him/her by simply knocking on his/her door or ringing his/her doorbell. Our neighbor is someone who lives in another part of our town or somewhere in our country and I can write him/her a letter and tell him/her how much I love him/her or make a telephone call and tell him/her how much I love him/her. Our neighbor is also someone we will never meet. He or she lives in a strange country, dresses in a strange way, has a different language, a different religion, eats different food and maybe even hates us. But we must still love him/her.
Jesus teaches us that love is the only way to be to our neighbor. Not just one of the ways. It is the only way. Tough choice, but it is what Jesus did and what he asks us to do. God bless you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, September 12, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.

