Monday, September 21, 2015

"God has brought laughter for me" - a sermon for the community of Zion Lutheran Church


Good afternoon, friends! 

I hope this post finds you well. Things have been in full swing in Pelican Rapids lately - attending a theological conference with the Northwest Minnesota Synod the past few days, and enjoying the cooler fall weather that has been in our area. Spike and I have been hanging out and having a good time! This past Sunday I preached on Genesis 18:1-15 and 21:1-7, the narrative of God's promise made to Sarah and Abraham, the promise of a son named laughter; Isaac. Here's the text! 

Sisters and brothers, grace to you and peace from God our Creator and God’s Son Jesus the Christ. Amen.

             Today I’d like to tell you the tale of five wayward kids who found their way to the mountains of Washington State, to a little mining town called Holden Village. Each on our respective journeys through life, all of us came to this place as we were in transition – having just graduated college, still in college, or stopping and working in town for a while to figure out what was coming next – to take some time to breathe. This village had no radio, no TV, and a very limited internet for staff, but abounded with prayer, Holden hugs, and scoops of ice cream so big that one scoop was more than enough.
            A large thread woven through Holden’s existence was hilarity and humor. Laughter was a big part of living life together on long term staff, as the five of us were. Sally, Andrew, Ruth, Colleen and I, all from different towns, states, life experiences, and hopes, were cut from the same cloth in that we enjoyed making cookie dough and subsequently eating it while drinking wine and playing cards.  We would joke that I used too much vanilla in my cookie dough and Andrew would be the vanilla police, a rule enforced by Colleen. The Village held a “First Day of School” day, where staff would get together and prevent the school bus from going up the hill to pick up students. The kitchen staff dressed up like 1950’s lunch ladies. The installment of our associate pastor included a dance routine to “Here’s What God Said: Ordain a Lady”, a parody of “Here’s My Number, So Call Me Maybe”, among many other Village events. The five of us friends, throughout our year there, found our own ways to engage in Village life in ways that were hilarious, life-giving, and healing in so many ways.
            This text today talks a lot about laughter. God comes to Sarah and Abraham in the form of three men, sent to tell the couple again of God’s promises – the promise of a son born to Sarah in their old age. This could easily be read as the Old Testament version of Jesus’ birth stories found in the Gospels. The men appear to Abraham, who serves them with great hospitality, giving them water, letting them rest, serving them bread and a choice calf, but they aren’t really interested in speaking with him, it appears – they want to know where Sarah is.
            Sarah, while in the tent, overhears the conversation – the promise of a son born to her and her husband. She knows she is old and past childbearing age, and laughs to herself – “After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” Her laughter, I’m betting, is because she finds the idea uncannily funny at best, and she’s deeply disappointed at worst. After all, this is not the first time that a son has been promised. God has told her this again, and again, and again, and it’s never come to fruition. God responds in a way that seems to set things straight – “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord? At the set time I will return to you, in due season, and Sarah shall have a son.” Again, the promise has been made. Now, Sarah and Abraham are left waiting, wondering, and hoping against hope that God might follow through. Sarah had been barren her whole life long. This indeed would be a miracle.
            In Genesis 21, the promise is fulfilled as God had told them. Isaac, whose very name means laughter, is born and Sarah rejoices – “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.” The idea of Sarah bearing a son – which seemed impossible to her – was made real. Sarah, at ninety years of age, was used by God as examples of God’s working through everyday people to bring about fulfillment of promises. God works through human obstacles in order to show grace, blessing, and compassion upon creation. The birth of Isaac puts into motion the larger sense of God’s design for the world. The birth of Isaac assumes that he is forerunner of a new covenant community, of a community that is rooted in God’s promises of peace and justice, rooted in promises of a Messiah to come. Through Sarah’s laughter, through Sarah’s distrust, through seemingly being “too old” by the world’s standards, God worked a miracle that will indeed set creation down the road that ultimately leads to Christ himself. It goes to show that whatever we think God can do, whatever we as humans think the limits of God are, that God will always, always, one-up us and surprise us in ways that make known God’s kingdom on earth. Throughout the Bible, He has a pretty good track record of doing exactly that.
            Sort of like how at Holden, laughter was used to express happiness, but there were also times when it was appropriate to laugh through tears, to question, or to doubt. Holden held space for that. It’s human nature. Sarah questioned and laughed at what God said, and I know I do too. I would place a bet that most of us in this room have. That’s where it gets exciting, though, my friends – because in the midst of our very doubt, in the moments when we think we’re not good enough to be used by God, in the moments when we wonder if any of this stuff matters, and when we’re just about to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, then that is precisely when God shows up and turns the world upside down. God gave Sarah and Abraham their son Isaac. God gave us Jesus Christ in the flesh who died for our sakes. God gives us now each other, our neighbors, and those who each of us has the hardest time loving to live life with – to live out the gift of faith, to live out the Gospel’s call to reconciliation, justice, and abiding love.
            That’s the scary part. We can doubt ourselves and our abilities, we can doubt God’s promises, but God still trusts us. Despite our brokenness, despite the sin that permeates this world, God still calls us out of our comfort zone, out of our routine ways of being and then shows us how to be the hands and feet of Jesus in the world. Just as God made promises to Sarah and Abraham, so God makes promises to us – of faith, of resurrection, of new life – as we live our day to day lives. In our ordinariness, in our doubt, we are used to bring the kingdom of God into our world. That, my friends, is nothing short of miraculous. And we get to live it. Thanks be to God. Amen. 

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