| To contact us: Calvary Episcopal Church 667 Mount Road Aston, PA 19014 610-459-2013 OFFICE mail@calvaryepiscopalrockdale.org |
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| SERMON Advent 1 November 30, 2008 The Rev. Kristine Hill |
| 667 Mount Road, Aston, PA 19014 610-459-2013 |
| Small Parish - Big Heart The little church you've been looking for! All are welcome! |
| Our Mission: To worship the Lord To serve the community To grow the church |
| Isaiah 64:1-9 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 Mark 13:24-37 |
| The Rev. Kristine Hill, Interim Rector |
There’s this song that, at least when sung by Cynthia Clawson, is absolutely
haunting. It expresses our unspoken sorrows, our bone-weariness, and our
deepest hopes. Cynthia Clawson is an ordained minister and a professional choral
and gospel singer. She has an incredible voice. Hearing her sing: “I Wanna’ Go
Home” with the choral group “Conspirare” pierces your heart. As you listen,
images are brought to mind of dear ones whose journey to death was slow, a bit
wearing on their dignity, and tiring for them. Her melancholy voice rising-and-
falling she sings: “I’m tired of living in some far-off foreign city… I wanna’ go
home. And I’m tired of receiving looks of dull pity… I wanna’ go home. I’m tired
of the stares of vacant eyes, and I’m tired of the color of alien skies, and I’m
tired of the same old empty lies… I wanna’ go home.”
Hearing her sing you suddenly see the arthritic wrists, the useless-legs of your
grandfather, your mother; you recall that dear-departed-someone whose hands
shook-so near-the-end that he could no longer feed himself, and you wonder if
he didn’t, in those days, long to go home. Ms. Clawson sings-on… “I wanna’ go
home to a place where I belong… to a place where all my wrongs are righted,
where joy abounds, and the simple mention of love is a prayer.” All those
people we’ve known who waited -- in bed, in pain, in a mental fog -- for weeks,
for months, for years… hoping soon to go home to their Lord.
Advent is a season of waiting. We wait for Jesus to come to earth. We lift-up our
heads and look for him, expecting him to arrive any time now. We know he is
coming, we just don’t know when. We have been waiting a long time -- since
Jesus ascended to the Father’s right hand; maybe it won’t be much longer. Our
loved-ones whose bodies were giving out on them and who awaited death were
hoping for an end to their suffering; we who await Jesus’ return are looking for
an end to the suffering of the world. Those who face death trust that, for Jesus’
sake, God will welcome them into the kingdom of heaven. We wait, knowing that
when Jesus returns he will bring judgment; and while we have good-hope that we
will be redeemed, we also know things could get kinda’ hot for a while. Our
loved ones were headed to their rest; what’s coming here will not be restful, but
in the end it will be good.
The song of our Advent waiting-and-longing is sung, this morning, by the prophet
Isaiah. His words, too, move our hearts, express our deep desires, our unspoken
weariness and our sadness. Isaiah calls to God, speaking for us, saying “O that
you would rip open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would
quake at your presence… so that the nations might tremble at your presence!”
If only God would come in his might and fix things -- settle the wars and set-up
fair-and-just governments in every nation; stop corruption in politics and business
so that people in everywhere could get jobs where they could make an honest,
decent living. If only God would come, show us how to distribute food so that no
one would starve; give us the cure to cancer and AIDS; teach us all how to get
along. This is what we are waiting for. This is what will happen when Jesus
returns. And that is why we cry-out: “O that you would tear open the heavens
and come down!”
85-years-old and in a Houston nursing home, Dorothy had such trouble feeding
herself it was hard to watch. Maybe she would get a few green beans on her
spoon, but they would likely have fallen off by the time she got her spoon to her
mouth – if it got there at all. Thomas sat strapped into his wheelchair in the hall
all day calling for his wife, who’d been dead 10 years. He had no idea where he
was. Lydia kept a rag doll with her and that was a great comfort. She thought it
was her grandbaby and talked to it constantly. Eloise was in her right mind until
the day she died, always neatly dressed and with her hair fixed so nice. But no
matter how often they turned her, the bedsores ate her alive. Each was slowly
dying, awaiting her deliverance from mortality and pain.
We, too, are await deliverance… deliverance from the countless ailments of the
world, deliverance for the world from its suffering, from its sin, the effects of
sin. We long for an end to conflict, an end to racism, for a time when age-old
enemies can let go of their hurt and their hatred. We pray for deliverance from
diseases -- that kill, that debilitate, that drain life away. We look for deliverance
from economies that cater to the rich and step on the poor, from societies ignore
the public good in favor of being fashionable, from business tactics that promise
easy money only to fail and plunge the nation into crisis. We pray for help to
make better choices so we do not compound problems like global warming, and
growing landfills. We need deliverance and so we say to God: “O that you would
rend the heavens and come down.” Come down and save us.
There is good news; Jesus is coming. We don’t know when, but he will return,
bringing God’s kingdom to earth. And when God’s kingdom is here, on earth,
when God rules all-in-all, there will be no war, no group will dominate over
another. In the kingdom injustice is wiped out, so there is not space for things
like corruption to exist, there can be no preference for the rich and shoving
aside the poor; there will be no rich and poor, for we will all be rich in God and
nothing else will matter. In God’s kingdom creation is restored to the purpose
God has for it -- the soil, the air, the water, trees and birds and wildlife and all
living things -- will be healthy and fully alive. And we have heard how human
life will be where God reigns -- no more illness, no more dying; no more ‘us’
against ‘them,’ no more long-held-grudges, no more hatred, no more sorrow and
wounds that will not heal – we will be one people, united in God’s love. Oh, if
only that day would arrive. We want to see it with our own eyes. Thank
goodness it is Advent, the time of our expectant waiting, the time when we
console ourselves with the news that Jesus is on his way -- he is coming.
When Jesus returns to earth he will come, not only in triumph, but also as our
judge. His arrival will be a time of searing honesty. We will be confronted with
the truth, with aspects of reality we might not want to face. Our Lord’s purpose
as judge is not to find us guilty so that we might be condemned, but to identify
what is wrong in-and-among us, so that it may be put right, and the whole world
may be restored. When we ask God to clean up the problems of the world,
perhaps we are thinking God will come with mighty power and suddenly make
everything perfect, like magic, or snap his godly fingers or let loose some
heavenly thunder-and-lightening and instantly get rid of everything that wounds
and enslaves people, wipe out all the bad stuff, destroy evil in the blink of an
eye.
But if we read our lessons this morning carefully, that is not what we find in
them. Speaking for us again Isaiah says: “We have all become like one who is
unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.” What is “wrong” with
the world does not only exist “out there” but “in here” as well, within each of us
and among us. If the problems of the world are to be fixed, we must be fixed
along with them. According to Isaiah, not only the sneaky things we do, the ones
we hope no one will find out about, are rotten, but even our good deeds are like
a dirty rag. So when God opens the heavens and comes down, first we will go
through judgment -- separating what is good from what is bad -- and then we will
come to deliverance.
Because if the poor are to receive enough, then those of us who have plenty
will have to give-some-up. If everyone the-world-over is to get a fair chance in
life, you-and-I may have to let go of some privileges. Wars will end, but not
necessarily to suit our agenda, or ‘this’ or ‘that’ nation’s purpose, but only God’s
purpose. The earth will be renewed, but we’re gonna’ have to give-up stuff that
would destroy it again. And our relationships will be made new-and-right --
relationships with our spouses, with our children, with our parents, with our
neighbors, our co-workers, our enemies… but in the process we will each be
stripped of false pride, of malice, of greed, of the desire for one-ups-manship, of
grievances we swore we would never forgive. We’ll have to let ‘em go. Jesus
will return and the whole world will be made new, but nothing and no one will be
left unchanged.
Which brings us back to that lovely song and, maybe, its most captivating lyric.
“I wanna’ go home,” Cynthia Clawson sings, “to a place where I belong.” Don’t
we all. “I wanna’ go home to a place where all my wrongs are righted…”
‘where all my wrongs are righted…’ ya’ know… We all have to live with it --
the fact that we are not ever truly “right” here. Loved? yes. Forgiven? yes.
Accepted as we are anyway - sure. Held in the endless bounty of God’s grace?
You bet. But not “right” -- we are all-of-us sinners, and forever in need of God’
s mercy. So the knowledge that we will some day go to a home where all of our
flaws, our faults, our wrongs will be put right once-and-for-all, is a pretty great
thought. It comes as a gracious relief.
“Lord God, tear open the heavens and come down,” we pray. Jesus has come,
saving us from sin and death. Jesus will come again to deliver the whole world
from suffering and decay, to restore it to wholeness and place it under the
everlasting rule of God almighty. Until that day arrives, we wait for it with hope,
with an active hope -- remembering that the Church (our communal life together)
is a foreshowing to the world of what God has in mind. As we await the day
when the heavens open and our Lord comes to put all things right, may we be a
sign of the kingdom to come -- a reminder that sorrows will end, that the poor
will be blessed with plenty, that wars will cease and the earth be restored, that
all people will be friends, and life will prevail over death. May the love of God
overflow upon us and from us, into the world around us.
amen
haunting. It expresses our unspoken sorrows, our bone-weariness, and our
deepest hopes. Cynthia Clawson is an ordained minister and a professional choral
and gospel singer. She has an incredible voice. Hearing her sing: “I Wanna’ Go
Home” with the choral group “Conspirare” pierces your heart. As you listen,
images are brought to mind of dear ones whose journey to death was slow, a bit
wearing on their dignity, and tiring for them. Her melancholy voice rising-and-
falling she sings: “I’m tired of living in some far-off foreign city… I wanna’ go
home. And I’m tired of receiving looks of dull pity… I wanna’ go home. I’m tired
of the stares of vacant eyes, and I’m tired of the color of alien skies, and I’m
tired of the same old empty lies… I wanna’ go home.”
Hearing her sing you suddenly see the arthritic wrists, the useless-legs of your
grandfather, your mother; you recall that dear-departed-someone whose hands
shook-so near-the-end that he could no longer feed himself, and you wonder if
he didn’t, in those days, long to go home. Ms. Clawson sings-on… “I wanna’ go
home to a place where I belong… to a place where all my wrongs are righted,
where joy abounds, and the simple mention of love is a prayer.” All those
people we’ve known who waited -- in bed, in pain, in a mental fog -- for weeks,
for months, for years… hoping soon to go home to their Lord.
Advent is a season of waiting. We wait for Jesus to come to earth. We lift-up our
heads and look for him, expecting him to arrive any time now. We know he is
coming, we just don’t know when. We have been waiting a long time -- since
Jesus ascended to the Father’s right hand; maybe it won’t be much longer. Our
loved-ones whose bodies were giving out on them and who awaited death were
hoping for an end to their suffering; we who await Jesus’ return are looking for
an end to the suffering of the world. Those who face death trust that, for Jesus’
sake, God will welcome them into the kingdom of heaven. We wait, knowing that
when Jesus returns he will bring judgment; and while we have good-hope that we
will be redeemed, we also know things could get kinda’ hot for a while. Our
loved ones were headed to their rest; what’s coming here will not be restful, but
in the end it will be good.
The song of our Advent waiting-and-longing is sung, this morning, by the prophet
Isaiah. His words, too, move our hearts, express our deep desires, our unspoken
weariness and our sadness. Isaiah calls to God, speaking for us, saying “O that
you would rip open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would
quake at your presence… so that the nations might tremble at your presence!”
If only God would come in his might and fix things -- settle the wars and set-up
fair-and-just governments in every nation; stop corruption in politics and business
so that people in everywhere could get jobs where they could make an honest,
decent living. If only God would come, show us how to distribute food so that no
one would starve; give us the cure to cancer and AIDS; teach us all how to get
along. This is what we are waiting for. This is what will happen when Jesus
returns. And that is why we cry-out: “O that you would tear open the heavens
and come down!”
85-years-old and in a Houston nursing home, Dorothy had such trouble feeding
herself it was hard to watch. Maybe she would get a few green beans on her
spoon, but they would likely have fallen off by the time she got her spoon to her
mouth – if it got there at all. Thomas sat strapped into his wheelchair in the hall
all day calling for his wife, who’d been dead 10 years. He had no idea where he
was. Lydia kept a rag doll with her and that was a great comfort. She thought it
was her grandbaby and talked to it constantly. Eloise was in her right mind until
the day she died, always neatly dressed and with her hair fixed so nice. But no
matter how often they turned her, the bedsores ate her alive. Each was slowly
dying, awaiting her deliverance from mortality and pain.
We, too, are await deliverance… deliverance from the countless ailments of the
world, deliverance for the world from its suffering, from its sin, the effects of
sin. We long for an end to conflict, an end to racism, for a time when age-old
enemies can let go of their hurt and their hatred. We pray for deliverance from
diseases -- that kill, that debilitate, that drain life away. We look for deliverance
from economies that cater to the rich and step on the poor, from societies ignore
the public good in favor of being fashionable, from business tactics that promise
easy money only to fail and plunge the nation into crisis. We pray for help to
make better choices so we do not compound problems like global warming, and
growing landfills. We need deliverance and so we say to God: “O that you would
rend the heavens and come down.” Come down and save us.
There is good news; Jesus is coming. We don’t know when, but he will return,
bringing God’s kingdom to earth. And when God’s kingdom is here, on earth,
when God rules all-in-all, there will be no war, no group will dominate over
another. In the kingdom injustice is wiped out, so there is not space for things
like corruption to exist, there can be no preference for the rich and shoving
aside the poor; there will be no rich and poor, for we will all be rich in God and
nothing else will matter. In God’s kingdom creation is restored to the purpose
God has for it -- the soil, the air, the water, trees and birds and wildlife and all
living things -- will be healthy and fully alive. And we have heard how human
life will be where God reigns -- no more illness, no more dying; no more ‘us’
against ‘them,’ no more long-held-grudges, no more hatred, no more sorrow and
wounds that will not heal – we will be one people, united in God’s love. Oh, if
only that day would arrive. We want to see it with our own eyes. Thank
goodness it is Advent, the time of our expectant waiting, the time when we
console ourselves with the news that Jesus is on his way -- he is coming.
When Jesus returns to earth he will come, not only in triumph, but also as our
judge. His arrival will be a time of searing honesty. We will be confronted with
the truth, with aspects of reality we might not want to face. Our Lord’s purpose
as judge is not to find us guilty so that we might be condemned, but to identify
what is wrong in-and-among us, so that it may be put right, and the whole world
may be restored. When we ask God to clean up the problems of the world,
perhaps we are thinking God will come with mighty power and suddenly make
everything perfect, like magic, or snap his godly fingers or let loose some
heavenly thunder-and-lightening and instantly get rid of everything that wounds
and enslaves people, wipe out all the bad stuff, destroy evil in the blink of an
eye.
But if we read our lessons this morning carefully, that is not what we find in
them. Speaking for us again Isaiah says: “We have all become like one who is
unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.” What is “wrong” with
the world does not only exist “out there” but “in here” as well, within each of us
and among us. If the problems of the world are to be fixed, we must be fixed
along with them. According to Isaiah, not only the sneaky things we do, the ones
we hope no one will find out about, are rotten, but even our good deeds are like
a dirty rag. So when God opens the heavens and comes down, first we will go
through judgment -- separating what is good from what is bad -- and then we will
come to deliverance.
Because if the poor are to receive enough, then those of us who have plenty
will have to give-some-up. If everyone the-world-over is to get a fair chance in
life, you-and-I may have to let go of some privileges. Wars will end, but not
necessarily to suit our agenda, or ‘this’ or ‘that’ nation’s purpose, but only God’s
purpose. The earth will be renewed, but we’re gonna’ have to give-up stuff that
would destroy it again. And our relationships will be made new-and-right --
relationships with our spouses, with our children, with our parents, with our
neighbors, our co-workers, our enemies… but in the process we will each be
stripped of false pride, of malice, of greed, of the desire for one-ups-manship, of
grievances we swore we would never forgive. We’ll have to let ‘em go. Jesus
will return and the whole world will be made new, but nothing and no one will be
left unchanged.
Which brings us back to that lovely song and, maybe, its most captivating lyric.
“I wanna’ go home,” Cynthia Clawson sings, “to a place where I belong.” Don’t
we all. “I wanna’ go home to a place where all my wrongs are righted…”
‘where all my wrongs are righted…’ ya’ know… We all have to live with it --
the fact that we are not ever truly “right” here. Loved? yes. Forgiven? yes.
Accepted as we are anyway - sure. Held in the endless bounty of God’s grace?
You bet. But not “right” -- we are all-of-us sinners, and forever in need of God’
s mercy. So the knowledge that we will some day go to a home where all of our
flaws, our faults, our wrongs will be put right once-and-for-all, is a pretty great
thought. It comes as a gracious relief.
“Lord God, tear open the heavens and come down,” we pray. Jesus has come,
saving us from sin and death. Jesus will come again to deliver the whole world
from suffering and decay, to restore it to wholeness and place it under the
everlasting rule of God almighty. Until that day arrives, we wait for it with hope,
with an active hope -- remembering that the Church (our communal life together)
is a foreshowing to the world of what God has in mind. As we await the day
when the heavens open and our Lord comes to put all things right, may we be a
sign of the kingdom to come -- a reminder that sorrows will end, that the poor
will be blessed with plenty, that wars will cease and the earth be restored, that
all people will be friends, and life will prevail over death. May the love of God
overflow upon us and from us, into the world around us.
amen