July 19, 2020                                                                                 Text:  Romans 8:18-27

Dear Friends in Christ,

            Listen, do you hear it?  Creation is groaning.  Wednesday night between 6:30 – 7 p.m. in the Central Illinois burg of Argenta, creation came with a boom.  Lightning struck somewhere near my dad’s house after we had finished dinner.  It was loud and got us all out of our chairs.  If not a lightning storm, then an earthquake or hurricane or drought or floods.  Listen.  Creation is groaning.

            The groans of humanity continue on – differing thoughts and opinions on most everything.  Add to it the taking over of cities and rioting and unemployment and despair and suicide rates jumping.  The family structure continues to break apart.  Listen.  Humanity is groaning.

            Creation and humanity are frustrated.  They are waiting for their groans to be given meaning.  Who will speak for us?

“CAN THE GROANING BE OVERCOME?”

            God’s Word, like it always does, steps into our world today.  The Spirit speaks words that help to overcome the groaning.  Paul heard the same groans we hear.  He makes an honest assessment of the health of the world and God’s people.  He compares our suffering to the future He has waiting for us.  The Lord determines that the future outweighs the groaning and the suffering.  He even says that this groaning may have a purpose.

            Paul begins the text with a promise of glory.  He gives us a picture of the groaning surrounded by the promise of God’s future glory.  Even when we don’t understand our groans, in them we discover the promise of God.

            Creation has been decaying since a fruit party took an awful turn in a garden.  Creation and man broke that day.  They would be at odds with their Creator.  The ground would be cursed.  The groaning would be loud.  But into the picture steps our Lord.  His word through St. Paul uses the word “hope” six times in our text.  God’s last word is not judgment but hope.  We will have relief from our groaning.  It can be overcome – hope is on the way.

            Paul also makes us aware there is something wrong with humanity.  The Holy Spirit lays the law on our hearts and we groan at the mess we can make of our lives.  We groan when we say something inappropriate.  We groan when we treat someone badly.  We groan when we start to lose hope.

            Where is a place you hear a lot of groaning?  During natural childbirth.  It made one father comment, “Put me under, and I’ll name the child after the anesthesiologist.”  There is pain but also extreme joy when that child is born.  There is the hope, in the child you caress in your arms. 

            Yesterday many of us endured some slight pain – a needle going into our arm – to provide hope for a cancer patient or accident victim or a mother hemorrhaging during childbirth.  The suffering provided the hope.

            Biosphere 2 was a scientific experiment to create a man-made environment on earth that might be re-created to sustain life on Mars.  The scientists created a rain forest, as well as ocean, tropic, and desert environments.  Eventually, they observed that the trees growing in the biosphere began to fall down.  The problem?  In this manufactured environment, there was no wind, and without the stress of wind, the trees did not grow strong roots.

            Our suffering and groaning, the pain we go through, can strengthen our faith and draw us closer to God who we depend on in our weakness, as we wait for the future glory that He has promised us. 

            The suffering provided the hope.  It came through on a hill, where a man was crucified between two thieves.  He suffered pain and groaning.  Even the creation suffered that day as darkness and an earthquake enveloped the world.  A curtain was torn in two and people were frightened.  Where was the hope?  How could the groaning be overcome?

            God would give man a two-day period to think this over.  What had been done to Jesus?  How they had treated Him.  By Sunday morning hearts had to be aching, bodies had to be groaning.  Then hope came out of a tomb.  Hope appeared to other human beings.  Hope walked along the road.  Hope ate with the disciples.  This hope, in the person of Jesus Christ, overcomes our groaning.  This hope is stronger than our pain.  This hope overcomes our bad behavior.  This hope gives us a purpose and a future. 

            Why do I describe our present groaning as “a blip in our lives?”  Am I just trying to be clever, imaginative?  No.  The truth is spoken.  The Word of God is firm.  Our future hope is a forever and ever experience in the land of the living.  What we hear today are only temporary groans.  We look forward to the song of the saints.  The chorus we join around the Lamb of God.  How about a smile?  Our full adoption as sons and daughters of the King awaits.  The groaning is overcome.

                                                                                                                        Amen.        

July 12, 2020                                                                                     Text:  Isaiah 5:10-13

Dear Friends in Christ,

            How would define the word home?  Has your definition changed since March 20, 2020?  You do recall what happened that day, don’t you?  The government asked us all to stay home – shelter in place – quarantine ourselves.  Before these last 16 weeks for most of us the word “home” evoked warm feelings.  “Home” for Christmas.  Coming “home” from college and better food.  A good night’s sleep, dad, mom, and family needling.  Dorothy famously said on the yellow brick road, “There’s no place like home!”

            Do you still see “home” the same way?  Are you tired of working from home?  Have you run out of projects around your home?  Have you felt trapped in your home? 

            The prophet Isaiah is writing this morning about Israelites living in Babylon.  They are exiles far from home.  They can’t leave and the Babylonians have become their new daddy.  They’ve been told to . . .

“SHELTER IN PLACE”

            Israel is stuck in place apart from what they are used to.  There is the detestable statue of the god Marduk.  There are canals and building projects they have no interest in.  The Israelites have no king, no temple, no royal city, no land, no liturgy, no sacrifice, no hope, no future, and no song.  How can they sing God’s songs while in a foreign land?

            So by the rivers of Babylon they sit and weep, reminiscing about the good ol’ days when they worshipped in Solomon’s temple, worked and shopped in the city of David, and saw the Mount of Olives from a distance.  O God, “there’s no place like home!”

            The Israelites are not just away from home; they are away from the Father.  Babylon is an oppressive empire.  They are seeing to it that Israel has no song to the Lord.  They want to stop their singing.  If they can’t do that, then they will pollute them with their ideology and managed slogans.

            Some of us are far away from home even while we shelter in place.  We are far away from the Father.  We have exiled ourselves right here and now.  We’ve left home for seductive lights and deadly lights.  We’ve forgotten our baptism and ended up with empty relationships and inflated egos.  What need have we of the Father . . . and we have no song to sing.

            As we shelter in place we also live with ideology and managed slogans.  Don’t gather in church, but depending on your politics, go ahead and gather by the thousands.  The hypocrisy is rampant.  Please discern what you see happening.

            Into this mess . . . into this exile . . . God speaks, “For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” (v. 12)

            Just when the music died and Israel’s history seemed closed by Babylonian imperial policy the Lord raised up Cyrus in Isaiah chapter 45.  In chapter 53 a Servant was wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.  And the guarantee for all this?  The power and faithfulness of God’s Word found in our text.  The promises will not return empty.  God said it.  That settles it.  Faith believes it.

            In the little town of Bethlehem this faithful Word took on flesh and blood and had a heart.  He lived in exile from the Father’s home for 33 years.  What did He say, “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Mt. 8:20)  Eventually the Son was exiled from the Father, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mk. 15:34)  Lips are cracked, mouth is dry, He can barely swallow.  His voice is hardly audible.  This Jesus has not sheltered in place but has been on a mission to bring us all home.  He has been spit upon and bruised and kicked and whipped and talked down to.  He is a cross-bearer and a sin-bearer.  Nothing can quench his thirst.  He has no song to sing, the day the music died.

            On the third day, came forth no mere song, but a joyous symphony.  It would be a celebration.  It would provide you and I with a permanent home.  “In my Father’s house are many rooms…I go to prepare a place for you.” (Jn. 14:2)  “Our citizenship is in heaven.” (Phil. 3:20)

            Shelter in place has not been easy for some.  This is temporary.  Our permanent home, our shelter in place is forever and forever.  Think of the fanciest room you’ve ever stayed in.  Toni and I have been to a place where we had a swimming pool, hot tub, and sauna in our room.  The room is ready.  The price has been paid.  Here are your robe and sandals.  The sacrifice complete, and the Father has rehearsed his lines:  This Son of mine “was dead and is alive again.” (Lk. 15:32)

            Let’s sing with mountain and hills, and with the trees clap our hands.  We join in the hymn of all creation because Jesus’ dying love means we are going home!

                                                                                                                                    Amen.