10/13/2008                                                                                          Genesis 15:1-5

                                                                                                                  Philippians 4:4-7, 13

“Saying ‘Yes’ In A Time Of ‘No’”

Rev. Jonathan Rumburg

Introduction

            In afternoon of our lives, it’s not uncommon to think about what might have been, to think about all those plans we had for our lives.  Those dreams we thought we had put on the shelf a long time ago come tumbling down and possess us once more.  We are left then to look at them and wonder, where has the time gone?  We are left to look at them and say, “Why didn’t I do this?”

            All this reminiscing causes us to gaze into the coming twilight and say to ourselves, “I never thought my life would be like this.  In spite of it all, I always hope I’d be a doctor, an artist.  I had hoped I’d retire early and live by the ocean, or get married or go back to school… or whatever it is…

            We gaze into the gathering twilight and wonder what happened to all the “what-might-have been’s.”

            Our usual response is to cope with our loss.  We simply learn to live with the emptiness of those dreams that never came to pass.  We say to ourselves, “It’s ok, it all worked out for the best.”

            And maybe it is ok, but it is only ok as long as our dreams are really small.

            Or is that just our excuse?  Do we say it wasn’t meant to be and leave it at that because we are to proud to admit that the real reason we didn’t make our dreams a reality is because we believed the voices that said, “No, that’s not going to happen”?

Move 1

            You all have heard me say on many occasions that my “dream” job has always been to play for the Cleveland Indians.  This was true when I was a kid and I’d play Whiffle Ball with my brother and other friends.  Sometimes we would play with the rule that you had to imitate different players batting stances when up to bat.  So you would do Julio Franco’s unorthodox way of holding his bat, or Cory Snider’s wide stance. But nobody liked it when you did Mike Hargrove’s repetitious and obsessive compulsive batting glove adjustment after each pitch.

            When I was a kid, playing Whiffle ball in my parent’s yard, I always dreamed that some day I would make it to the big leagues, the show, as it’s called.  I was certain that someone would discover me and whisk me off to wherever you get whisked off to when you become a famous athlete.  But I suppose in the later years of my elementary education I knew that being the best Whiffle Ball player in the neighborhood didn’t mean that I was going to be playing for the Indians.  But a boy could dream though.

            I dreamed until I grew up and learned about how the world worked.  And then that dream faded away.  Now, to be honest with you, one reason the dream faded away is that though I really wanted to play professional baseball, part of me just wanted fame and fortune.  So the dream wasn’t really founded on my true self.  It wasn’t a dream, it was a wish.

*******

            But what about our dreams that are real dreams—true callings, true visions from God?

            What about dreams that are not just fantasies about our own ego?  What do we do with them in the late afternoon of our lives?

            Well if we are fortunate as Abram, who later becomes Abraham, the late afternoon of our lives is when we learn about faith. 

            Instead of going from dreaming to faint reminiscing of what could have been, we go from dreaming to hope.  And when our hopes are rooted in the true callings and the true visions of God, then hope can and will turn into reality.

Move 2

            Abraham and Sarah are in the twilight of their lives, and yet their dreams are still very young.  They dream of something being born.  They want to pass themselves on to the next generation.  They want a son and land.  They want to be rooted in something bigger than themselves. And they have held onto this dream for a long, long time, well past their childbearing years, as I said in the twilight of their lives.

            But then God comes and makes to Abraham a promise, saying, “Don’t be afraid Abram, I haven’t forgotten about you and Sarah, I remember the promise—land, don’t worry.”

            Abraham replies, “But even if I had land, I don’t have any sons.  Do I have to leave the land to my slave?”
            At which God responds, “Don’t be afraid.  You shall have a son.  In fact, I’ll show you.  Look at the stars.  You’ll have more children and grandchildren, and great-great-great grandchildren than stars in the sky.

            In that moment, when God reaffirmed God’s promise that all would work out as God intended, Abraham had a choice.  He could either believe God or believe what the world around him was saying. 

            The world around him was saying—“Not going to happen Abraham.”  God was saying— “Oh yes it will.”

            Abraham chose to believe God.  He moved to a place beyond reason and logic, into a place called faith. 

            Faith is the place between the promise and our own sense of hopelessness.  In that place called faith we don’t deny the chaos of the present day that surrounds us, but rather we live in expectation of the light.

            When we immerse ourselves in that place called faith, we are still aware that things are not perfect, that life and circumstance are still in flux, but we are filled with hope regardless of the situation we are in because we can rest in the peace that God’s hand is upon us. 

            Hope is not a designated future.  Hope doesn’t say, “If I am good and do my duty, I will get exactly what I asked for.” 

            God is not Santa Claus. We’re not sitting on God’s lap and giving God our wish list.

            Faith is not about cutting a deal— “I’ll believe if you give me a son and land.” 

            Faith is when we are overwhelmed by the presence of God, when we know that we are held by something bigger than ourselves.

            We are part of the divine plan that is bringing in the Kingdom in the midst of barrenness. 

            Our faith is not in ourselves but in God.

*******

            Abraham believed in the Lord, but not in some carefully laid-out strategy.  Abraham fell in love with God; Abraham wanted to align his life with God’s activity in the world.

            When Abraham asks for some assurance, God doesn’t call in a pediatrician to explain how he and Sarah are going to have so many off spring.  God doesn’t turn into a real estate agent.  Rather God says, “I am the Lord—the one who makes promises and keeps promises.  I am asking you to embrace my promises, to base your life on them, because when you do, one way or another, you will be blessed.

            Abraham lived in a time when the world was saying “No” to all he desired.  No descendants.  No land.  No dreams.  It’s not unlike how the world is saying “No” to us today.  No you can’t retire early.  No you won’t get the house you want.  No you can’t afford to send your kid to college.

            But then God shows up to Abraham, and God shows up to us, and says what God always says, “In a time of ‘No’ I am asking you to say ‘Yes.’”

            When the world says “It’s not going to happen Abraham” God says, “Yes it will.”

            When the world say, “You can’t complete a successful Capital Campaign of six hundred thousand dollars when the economy is falling apart, God says, “Oh yes you can.”

            Faith is saying “Yes” in a world of “No.”

Move 3

            So here we are, not so far from Abraham, filled with dreams of a future we can’t help but wonder if we can make possible.  We are literally in that place, that as T.S. Elliot says, “Between the idea and reality, falls the shadow.”

            The shadow is that fearful voice that accepts the “No” of the world.  Walter Bruggerman says that fearful voice is what makes us sane and sober and prudent and competent, but it also drives us to despair, fatigue, cynicism, and even defeat.

            To get away from the “No” of the world to the “Yes” of God, we must change our focus from ourselves and the things that are causing fear, and focus instead on God.  We will never embrace the new life that God intends so long as we stare at the shadow of defeat.

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            So how do we do this?  How do we fight off the shadow of defeat, drown out the voices that are saying “No” to us?  That’s simple.  We are to rejoice.

Move 4

            The Bible is full of commands to “Rejoice!”  But unlike contemporary injunctions to “always look on the bright side of life” or “don’t worry, be happy”, the biblical commands often appear in unexpected places.

            Paul’s letter to the Philippians is an example.  Paul is not in a good situation.  When you read the letter, you learn, almost accidentally because Paul certainly does not emphasize it, that he is in prison awaiting a trial that could result in his death. 

            Yet in this little letter the words joy and rejoice appear fourteen times, culminating in the summary declaration, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!”

            These verses bear the marks of Paul’s own personal experience with God— that though in a place of distress, he can be calm because the Lord is near.  Whatever happens can only result in additional opportunities for him to enjoy (or extend) the reality of Christ’s presence. 

            Therefore, he can say with perfect honesty that nothing need disturb him; he can be content whether he is about to die or live on.  He can not worry about anything because he is in a place of faith, a place that assures him, no matter how dire or impossible the situation may seem, the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, is guarding his heart and mind.

            As Karl Barth put it, the joy that Paul describes is a defiant “nevertheless,” which draws its strength from the gospel story and from laying one’s deepest concerns before God “with thanksgiving.”

            This joy and this rejoicing is taking root in Paul, even in the midst of chaos and an uncertain future.  And it is encouraged by the spread of the gospel, the growth of a young church, and, most of all, by the deep joy of God’s presence and the hope this gives for whatever the future may hold.

Conclusion

            Like Abraham, God asks for us to look up from ourselves to the stars, to the divine pattern, and then God calls us to hope wildly, to dream as God dreams, to follow God’s path and work to achieve the vision and call God has given us.

            And Like Paul, God implores us to rejoice, to not worry, to let our requests be known with thanksgiving through our prayers, and then bask in the peace that passes all understanding, because when we do so, we will be in that place called faith.  And when we are in that place, we can, we will, do all things through Christ our Lord, who strengthens us.

*******

            Can you imagine having descendants more than the stars and land enough for them?

            Can you imagine the blind seeing because a Rabbi touches them?  The deaf hearing, the dead being raised?

            Can you imagine new life for yourself?

            Can you imagine a world of justice and mercy and peace?

            Can you imagine a financial success in the midst of global market collapse?

            Can you imagine saying “Yes” to God in a world of “No”?

            If you can, then let us rejoice.  I say again, let us rejoice. 
            Amen.