Peeking Over The Fence
Sermon
Hope For The Weary Heart
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter Cycle C
It wasn't quite a race, although there was a noisy, clamoring crowd, a definite course, and an ending, a finish line. The crowd didn't cheer, but jeered. The course wasn't straight at all, nor smooth; there was no hope of getting the wind to his back. It went up and down, twisted and turned, bumped over uneven stones; it was impossibly narrow and difficult at times. And the end, the finish line was a place he'd just as soon not have come to -- because it was the end of everything: three years of profoundly difficult work, low moments of despair, as well as exhilarating moments of triumph -- just like -- what was it? -- last Sunday. That was over, and this soon would be. Every hope, every dream, every bond of love and community were now shattered in a shambles of betrayal, flight, and fear. Jesus peered up the hill, and through sweat and blood and tears (his own!) stinging his eyes, he finally saw it: the end; the dead end of this whole up-and-down incredible journey. At least it looked like the end.
Not then, but now; not there, but here, we see it, too: the dead end of our own journey. Even if we haven't gotten there, we can see it. It's out there, and it may be closer than we've ever thought or ever wanted. It looms before us: every hope, every dream, every bond of love shattered and lying in a shambles. You don't have to be Jesus to see it, and it doesn't have to be that first Good Friday, or even this Good Friday, for the dead end to slap you in the face. You can be yourself and see it; you can see it any day, including this one. It is the dead end of your life, with the weight and burden of your own failure on your back -- all of the ugly, unloving things you've done, been, and become. The hurtful words you've hurled, the phoniness you've lived, the self-centeredness that has made room only for you, the concern you've had only for you -- all of it! -- now stands before you. It is the pain and shambles of lost community, broken relationships, and betrayal; it is the dead end that comes when trust leaves. It is the place where and when there is no place left to go.
You and I know it all too well. We've been there often; we'll get there again; some of us are there now. And seeing it all, whether it's near or far, God help us, don't we wish we could see something else? -- not a dead end, but a living beginning, something else to see, something like new hopes, new dreams, new life, a new us.
Look, with eyes of faith, and you can see it! Peek over the fence, and it stretches before each of us! Jesus did, and saw it, and got there; and God's word of hope and promise to each of us this good day, this Good Friday, is that because he did, we can as well. We can see it and get there if we dare peek over the fence.
With vision blurred just enough to be able to see with the clarity of faith, Jesus' eyes fixed upon it. The cross was no longer on his back, but it was up there before him. Rather than being the ignominious instrument of his degradation, it was the means of his enthronement. It was not the way in which life would leave him and death would come, but just the opposite! It was the means by which death would leave him and life would come! Yes, and life would come not just to him, but in and through the Cross life would come for us, for all humanity, for all times!
This was the "new thing" the author of Hebrews had in mind when he quoted those stirring words of Jeremiah. This was the new covenant, the new beginning, the "new and living way" that Christ opened to all, and it was there to see in all of its power, there beyond the curtain of our hopelessness and alienation, beyond all the dead ends of our lives. It is God's gift to us; it is what God has done for us, this good day and every day of our lives. When our life reaches a dead end, God shows us another path, a way beyond what we can presently see. Christ opens our eyes to it; Christ beckons us toward it.
Over the fence that blocks our path, beyond the dead end of our days, Christ opens our eyes to it; Christ beckons us toward it. It is the place and time when life will surge through us again, and we shall dream new dreams and know love never betrayed. It is you and I in the very presence of God. As the writer of Hebrews rightly understood, the place and time of the presence of God is not found in any sanctuary of any ancient temple; neither is it only experienced in some distant heavenly realm, but God's presence is encountered in our present. Here and now we can go beyond where we are and have been, go into God's presence, a presence that can change everything, even us.
In the presence of God we find welcome, and not rejection. With arms wide enough to embrace us and all the world, God welcomes us as God's own child. Set aside are all the words that have told us we are unwanted, not good enough, not "something" enough, and in their place are the words that welcome us to the place of love and healing.
It is because in the presence of God we encounter the One who accepts us without condition. It is the scandal of the Gospel! We do not have to prove ourselves to be worthy of society with God; God proclaims that no one, not us nor anyone else, is unfit for society with God. We do not have to first fix ourselves up, hoping that then God will embrace us; God fixes us! Nothing we have ever done or will do bars us from the presence of God; nothing we have been or might become excludes us. God's loving presence invites, accepts, welcomes all; none are left out, none are fenced off. "Just as I am" is more that a wistful, plaintive plea; it is the way God welcomes all into God's renewing presence.
And it is a renewing presence! With God we discover the healing of our fractured lives; dead ends are behind us; new beginnings are before us. Now if you have no need to be "sprinkled clean" or "washed pure" (to use the words of the Epistle), this will mean nothing to you. If there is no longing within you for the days to come when there is no remembrance, by you or God, of your sins and misdeeds (as Jeremiah described his own people's dead end), this holds no power for you. But if you are where most of us are -- burdened by the "should haves" and "could haves" of our days, embarrassed by our own failures, broken and bleeding inside from the mess we've made of things, seeing nothing but the wreckage of our lives -- why, then, this is glorious Good News! God sees more than this! God sees a person of ultimate value and worth, who in the powerful presence and love of God can know healing, wholeness, and renewal. When you and I are in that presence we see it, too: not a dead end, but a life beginning!
We see a life beginning to discover meaning and purpose and joy. This is what is found in the presence of God. It is what happens when we discover a love for us without bounds, realizing that in the eyes of God none are without worth, all are accepted simply for who and what they are: God's precious children. When we discover this depth of love we discover the healing of our hurts; the past is set aside, and we can embrace a new future. It is the experience of joy that comes with knowing we count, we count ultimately to God; and because we count, our life has purpose; it is the purpose of joyfully living out as instruments of love and healing the grace we have received.
Peering over the fence, beyond all that has blocked the joy in living we can know, this is what we can see. Far from a dead end -- and a dead ending -- to be in the presence of God opens a new door of new possibilities for us just when all else would be slammed in our face. No wonder the day it was flung open for you and me and all humanity we call "Good Friday"! What else could it be but "good"?
Such is the confession of our hope, this day and everyday, and it is worth holding onto without wavering. The Epistle is quite right: the One who has promised it is faithful, even to us. You see, since Christ has moved beyond all dead ends, even death itself, so can we! Hear God's hope-filled Good News for us: God has healed our alienation; we are a forgiven people; and hence, you and I and everyone who dares to peek over the fence and see what life in the presence of God can be like can in fact enter into it. God has promised it, and God can be trusted to keep the promise.
Sometime or another you will need to know this. When it isn't a race, but a journey you're just trying to survive; when no cheering, but only jeers ring in your ears; when your path is so crooked and rough and uneven you're stumbling all the way; when the burden of your life is too heavy for your heart to bear -- and through your own sweat and blood and tears you see nothing but a dead end -- look again! Peek over it! God is there for you; nothing else matters.
Not then, but now; not there, but here, we see it, too: the dead end of our own journey. Even if we haven't gotten there, we can see it. It's out there, and it may be closer than we've ever thought or ever wanted. It looms before us: every hope, every dream, every bond of love shattered and lying in a shambles. You don't have to be Jesus to see it, and it doesn't have to be that first Good Friday, or even this Good Friday, for the dead end to slap you in the face. You can be yourself and see it; you can see it any day, including this one. It is the dead end of your life, with the weight and burden of your own failure on your back -- all of the ugly, unloving things you've done, been, and become. The hurtful words you've hurled, the phoniness you've lived, the self-centeredness that has made room only for you, the concern you've had only for you -- all of it! -- now stands before you. It is the pain and shambles of lost community, broken relationships, and betrayal; it is the dead end that comes when trust leaves. It is the place where and when there is no place left to go.
You and I know it all too well. We've been there often; we'll get there again; some of us are there now. And seeing it all, whether it's near or far, God help us, don't we wish we could see something else? -- not a dead end, but a living beginning, something else to see, something like new hopes, new dreams, new life, a new us.
Look, with eyes of faith, and you can see it! Peek over the fence, and it stretches before each of us! Jesus did, and saw it, and got there; and God's word of hope and promise to each of us this good day, this Good Friday, is that because he did, we can as well. We can see it and get there if we dare peek over the fence.
With vision blurred just enough to be able to see with the clarity of faith, Jesus' eyes fixed upon it. The cross was no longer on his back, but it was up there before him. Rather than being the ignominious instrument of his degradation, it was the means of his enthronement. It was not the way in which life would leave him and death would come, but just the opposite! It was the means by which death would leave him and life would come! Yes, and life would come not just to him, but in and through the Cross life would come for us, for all humanity, for all times!
This was the "new thing" the author of Hebrews had in mind when he quoted those stirring words of Jeremiah. This was the new covenant, the new beginning, the "new and living way" that Christ opened to all, and it was there to see in all of its power, there beyond the curtain of our hopelessness and alienation, beyond all the dead ends of our lives. It is God's gift to us; it is what God has done for us, this good day and every day of our lives. When our life reaches a dead end, God shows us another path, a way beyond what we can presently see. Christ opens our eyes to it; Christ beckons us toward it.
Over the fence that blocks our path, beyond the dead end of our days, Christ opens our eyes to it; Christ beckons us toward it. It is the place and time when life will surge through us again, and we shall dream new dreams and know love never betrayed. It is you and I in the very presence of God. As the writer of Hebrews rightly understood, the place and time of the presence of God is not found in any sanctuary of any ancient temple; neither is it only experienced in some distant heavenly realm, but God's presence is encountered in our present. Here and now we can go beyond where we are and have been, go into God's presence, a presence that can change everything, even us.
In the presence of God we find welcome, and not rejection. With arms wide enough to embrace us and all the world, God welcomes us as God's own child. Set aside are all the words that have told us we are unwanted, not good enough, not "something" enough, and in their place are the words that welcome us to the place of love and healing.
It is because in the presence of God we encounter the One who accepts us without condition. It is the scandal of the Gospel! We do not have to prove ourselves to be worthy of society with God; God proclaims that no one, not us nor anyone else, is unfit for society with God. We do not have to first fix ourselves up, hoping that then God will embrace us; God fixes us! Nothing we have ever done or will do bars us from the presence of God; nothing we have been or might become excludes us. God's loving presence invites, accepts, welcomes all; none are left out, none are fenced off. "Just as I am" is more that a wistful, plaintive plea; it is the way God welcomes all into God's renewing presence.
And it is a renewing presence! With God we discover the healing of our fractured lives; dead ends are behind us; new beginnings are before us. Now if you have no need to be "sprinkled clean" or "washed pure" (to use the words of the Epistle), this will mean nothing to you. If there is no longing within you for the days to come when there is no remembrance, by you or God, of your sins and misdeeds (as Jeremiah described his own people's dead end), this holds no power for you. But if you are where most of us are -- burdened by the "should haves" and "could haves" of our days, embarrassed by our own failures, broken and bleeding inside from the mess we've made of things, seeing nothing but the wreckage of our lives -- why, then, this is glorious Good News! God sees more than this! God sees a person of ultimate value and worth, who in the powerful presence and love of God can know healing, wholeness, and renewal. When you and I are in that presence we see it, too: not a dead end, but a life beginning!
We see a life beginning to discover meaning and purpose and joy. This is what is found in the presence of God. It is what happens when we discover a love for us without bounds, realizing that in the eyes of God none are without worth, all are accepted simply for who and what they are: God's precious children. When we discover this depth of love we discover the healing of our hurts; the past is set aside, and we can embrace a new future. It is the experience of joy that comes with knowing we count, we count ultimately to God; and because we count, our life has purpose; it is the purpose of joyfully living out as instruments of love and healing the grace we have received.
Peering over the fence, beyond all that has blocked the joy in living we can know, this is what we can see. Far from a dead end -- and a dead ending -- to be in the presence of God opens a new door of new possibilities for us just when all else would be slammed in our face. No wonder the day it was flung open for you and me and all humanity we call "Good Friday"! What else could it be but "good"?
Such is the confession of our hope, this day and everyday, and it is worth holding onto without wavering. The Epistle is quite right: the One who has promised it is faithful, even to us. You see, since Christ has moved beyond all dead ends, even death itself, so can we! Hear God's hope-filled Good News for us: God has healed our alienation; we are a forgiven people; and hence, you and I and everyone who dares to peek over the fence and see what life in the presence of God can be like can in fact enter into it. God has promised it, and God can be trusted to keep the promise.
Sometime or another you will need to know this. When it isn't a race, but a journey you're just trying to survive; when no cheering, but only jeers ring in your ears; when your path is so crooked and rough and uneven you're stumbling all the way; when the burden of your life is too heavy for your heart to bear -- and through your own sweat and blood and tears you see nothing but a dead end -- look again! Peek over it! God is there for you; nothing else matters.
