Whoosh! Boom! Roar! (Year A-Pentecost 13)

To listen to this sermon as delivered to the
Tellico Village Community Church on August 10, 2008, click here.

1 Kings 19:9-18

Did you hear it? God was not in the WHOOSHBOOMROAR!

There was the prophet Elijah, standing on top of a mountain when three natural disasters struck. First a great big WHOOSH . . . a wind splitting the mountain causing rocks to come tumbling down. And after the whoosh came a BOOM . . . an earthquake shaking the very foundation under the prophet’s feet. Then after the boom came a mighty ROAR . . . a fire consuming everything in its path. But God was not in the WHOOSHBOOMROAR.

This is big news! This goes against pop culture’s tendency to place God where God is not, particularly when we have our own WHOOSH or BOOM or ROAR.

Like after the WHOOSH of Hurricane Katrina which left over 1,300 dead and countless more homeless. John Hagee saw God in that WHOOSH, and suggested it was God’s punishment for a particular city’s upcoming gay pride parade.

Or after the ROAR of September 11, 2001 when terrorists flew airplanes into buildings killing roughly 3,000 people. Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell saw God in that ROAR, and suggested it was God’s punishment for America’s corruption.

Oh, and it’s not just the right wing that does this. The lefties come up with this crazy stuff, too! You probably remember the BOOM in China back in May that left over 70,000 people dead. Sharon Stone saw God in that BOOM, and suggested it was God’s punishment for China’s treatment of Tibet.

It’s easy to blame God when disaster strikes. When there is a WHOOSH, a BOOM or a ROAR, people search for answers, and unfortunately there are those who capitalize on those opportunities to make some kind of point for their own purposes.

But there on the mountain stood an exhausted and terrified prophet waiting for a word from God. But God was not in the WHOOSHBOOMROAR.

That must have been pretty disappointing for Elijah. I imagine Elijah was probably a lot like us, wanting God to manifest God’s self in exciting, extreme ways. We always want the next big thing. We want our houses bigger. We want our computers faster. We want our cell phones to have cameras and our MP3 players to have GPS. We want our joint replacements to make our espresso. And we want our hurricanes and our earthquakes and our fires . . . well, we want the Lord God Almighty right in the middle of them like an orchestra conductor. It makes for a pretty sexy deity.

When I was a kid growing up in church, I remember thinking of the Bible as a book of answers. Whatever problem I had, the Bible had an answer for it. I don’t know where I picked up this technique, but I learned to practice the “holy flip.” I would simply state my dilemma before God, flip through my Bible to some random page, place my finger upon the print and POOF! There the answer would be! It reminds me of a story:

A preacher was driving down a country road when his car broke down, so he walked to a nearby bar to use the phone. After calling for a tow truck, he spotted his old friend, Frank, drunk and shabbily dressed there at the bar. “What happened to you, Frank?” asked the good reverend. “You used to be rich.” Frank told a sad tale of bad investments that had led to his downfall. The preacher told Frank to go home. He said, “Open your Bible at random, stick your finger on the page and there will be God’s answer.” Some time later, the preacher bumped into Frank, who was wearing a Gucci suit, sporting a Rolex watch and had just stepped out of a Mercedes. “Frank.” said the preacher, “I am glad to see things really turned around for you.” “Yes, preacher, and I owe it all to you,” said Frank. “I opened my Bible, put my finger down on the page and there was the answer—Chapter 11.”[1]

Wouldn’t it be great if it were that simple? We have a question, we flip and find the answer. A disaster strikes, we simply determine who God is punishing.

However, I don’t think God has much taste for such bravado.

Back to the mountain with our disappointed Elijah. Instead of God revealing God’s self through the extraordinary means of the WHOOSHBOOMROAR, God gently whispered in what the King James Version calls a “still, small voice.”

A very popular perfume commercial from the 1970’s is forever lodged in my cerebrum—it went like this: “Whisper. If you want to capture someone’s attention, whisper.” I suppose God wanted Elijah’s attention, so God didn’t yell or scream or throw a God-sized tantrum. God didn’t even show up in the WHOOSHBOOMROAR. Rather, God simply whispered. I think God is still in the whispering business today.

But we can’t hear the whispers because there is too much NOISE! I dare say every one of us has a debilitating disorder called “sensory overload.” From televisions to the radio to the internet, we’ve got to have noise. We even buy machines for the express purpose of making “white noise.” The constant cacophony leaves little space whispers.

It’s not only an auditory issue. We have visual overload as well. I hosted a student from England in my home a few years back, and I asked her what was most striking about the United States that was different from England. She commented that she was taken aback by all of the advertising, particularly the billboards. I started paying attention after that and discovered that she was right! 20 minutes of advertising before a movie. Advertising on our grocery carts. I’m thinking about getting in that game by hosting ad space on the back of my Sunday morning vestment. What do you think? Mama needs a new pair of shoes!

What’s even more detrimental in our ability to hear the whispers of God than all of that external clanging is the internal chatter. Our minds are busy dredging through the past or fretting about the future. And somewhere in the center of all of that is God . . . gently whispering to us . . . calling us by name . . . telling us we are beloved . . . spurring us to boundless faith, radical hope, and revolutionary compassion.

God is in the silence. “Be still and know that I am God,” we read in the Psalms.[2] Stillness is both a mandate and a prerequisite for hearing and knowing a God who desperately wants to be known.

I read a story about several applicants seeking a position as a ship’s Morse code operator. While they were waiting to be interviewed, the room was filled with the sounds of conversation, and so the applicants were oblivious to the sound of dots and dashes emanating from an intercom. Then another applicant came in, sat down, and quietly waited. Suddenly, she jumped up, walked into the private office, and after a few minutes, walked out with the job. The other applicants exclaimed, “We were here first! How could you go ahead of us and get the job?” To which she replied, “Any of you could have gotten the job if you had just been quiet long enough to pay attention to the message on the intercom.” “What message?” “The code said, ‘A ship’s operator must always be on the alert. The first person who gets this message and comes directly into my office will get the job.’”[3]

If we could just be quiet long enough, what might we hear? What might God be whispering to us today? After the WHOOSH of the hurricane, after the earthquake’s BOOM, after the ROAR of the fire . . . what might the silence say? Brothers and sisters stop looking for God in flashing neon and:

Make room for the whispers.

Make room for the whispers.

Make room for the whispers.

[1] Reader's Digest, March, 1993, p. 71.
[2] Psalm 46:10.
[3] Rev. Dr. Homer Henderson tells this story in his June 20, 2004 sermon, “Silence Bites.” http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=11

Faith vs. Clarity (Year A-Pentecost 12)

To listen to this sermon as delivered to the
Tellico Village Community Church on August 3, 2008, click here.

Gen. 32:22-31 & Matt. 14:13-21

Last week was my favorite week of the year! You know why? It was “Shark Week” on the Discovery Channel! Hours upon hours of shark tales for me to enjoy. You might be wondering why I enjoy Shark Week so much, so let me tell you. I once swam with sharks. My husband and I like to scuba dive, and the last dive I went on off the coast of North Carolina, we encountered maybe a dozen, maybe 1,500 sharks. One in particular came right up beside me (20 yards) and said “hello.” As I was lingering there, some 70 feet under water looking into the eyes of a sand tiger shark, the most interesting thing about that encounter was the fact that I felt no fear. Just a sense of awe and wonder. I knew the statistics and realized the probability of getting killed by that shark were small; I also knew there are exceptions to the norm and realized that this predator had the power to kill me. But there I was, looking a predator in the eye, unafraid. Why? Faith! (Or perhaps stupidity . . . but I like to think it was faith.)

Now, in that moment I didn’t articulate the details, but in looking back, I think I had faith that regardless of what happened, it would all work out. If the shark killed me, I would soon be in heaven and my husband would enjoy the life insurance policy. If he maimed me, well, God would see me though that as well. And then I’d have a REALLY good sermon illustration!
When you analyze this story, the only way I would be 100% sure to avoid a shark attack would be to never get in the ocean. Just like the only way to be 100% sure you’re never in a car accident is to never ride with Tim Meadows, or to ever get in a car at all. The only way to never have your heart broken is to never love.

There are many, many ways in life that we can find certainty, but the cost of that certainty is often entirely too high. Thank God for the risk-takers! Thank God for those who have risked loving us even though we might fail them or even die on them. Thank God for those who have risked their lives, some even lost their lives that we might live in freedom. Life is risky business, and to live fully we must take some risks.

What does this have to do with our scriptures today . . . with Jacob wrestling with God or Jesus feeding the multitude? Everything! Let me explain.

Let’s first look at the story of Jacob wrestling with God. This might just be my favorite Old Testament story because I’ve had a few knock-down, drag-outs with the Almighty myself. I imagine every thinking Christian does. But wrestling with God is risky business. Jacob left the ordeal with a limp. I left my wrestling match with God with a theology that doesn’t fit nicely into any box and landed me in a heap of trouble with my fundamentalist employers. Wrestling with God is risky business.

Then there’s Jesus and the story of feeding 5,000 men, and probably something like 20,000 when you count the women and children. The context to this story is that Jesus had just learned of the beheading of John the Baptist, his cousin, his friend, and his partner in this new, spiritual revolution. His reaction was to seek solitude, so he got in a boat by himself and went off to what the scripture calls a “lonely place.” Reading between the lines a bit, Jesus was upset, grieving, and probably his own impending execution weighed heavy on his heart. So he needed to be alone to think and pray . . . but he didn’t get that alone time. The crowd followed him, 20,000 strong. When he saw them, the Bible says he had “compassion on them and healed their sick.” Setting aside his need for solitude, the wounded healer goes to work:

“When it was evening, the disciples came to Him and said, ‘This place is desolate and the hour is already late; so send the crowds away, that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ But Jesus said to them, ‘They do not need to go away; you give them something to eat!’ They said to Him, ‘We have here only five loaves and two fish.’ And He said, ‘Bring them here to Me.’ Ordering the people to sit down on the grass, He took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up toward heaven, He blessed the food, and breaking the loaves He gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.”[1]

I wonder what must have been going through Jesus’ mind as he looked at the throng of 20,000 hungry people and compared their hunger with the measly little loaves and fish. I’m not one who thinks that Jesus was omniscient, that he knew everything that had ever or would ever happen. I think he was more human than that. So I’m not convinced that when Jesus TOOK that bread, when he BLESSED that bread, when he BROKE that bread, and when he OFFERED that bread, I’m not convinced he knew exactly what would happen next. It was a risky thing for Jesus to do. It could have ended miserably with 19,995 hungry men, women, and children staring at him like a hungry shark. He risked humiliation. He risked failure. He risked himself in one ill-advised moment of sheer faith.

And what happened next? We don’t really know, but we do know that whatever happened, it made an impression on his followers. So much so that it’s the only miracle story that appears in all four gospels. Did more bread and fish appear out of thin air, like manna from heaven? Or did those who were wise enough to pack a picnic emulate the generosity of their lord, offering what they had to those who had nothing. Was this the first great potluck supper? And if so, does it diminish the story? I don’t think so. The “haves” sharing their abundance with the “have nots” is indeed a miracle. A miracle we could still use a little more of even today.
All we know is that Jesus took a great risk; and as the Bible says, “They all ate, and were satisfied.” In his compassion, he cared about their hunger. And they ate. Every man, woman, and child.

I heard a true story a few years ago that I want to share with you, though my details may be a little fuzzy. A reporter went to visit with Mother Teresa. He was doing a piece about the work she was doing with the poor in India. He had spent several days with her, maybe a week, and he was preparing to depart. As they were saying goodbye, this fragile, Mother Teresa asked the reporter how she could pray for him. His request was that she would pray for clarity for him in life. Apologetically, Mother Teresa told him that she would not pray for this for him. Puzzled, the reporter asked why. Mother Teresa offered that she herself had not once had clarity, rather she always trusted in God. She told the reporter that she would pray for him to have trust . . . trust in God when nothing seemed very clear.

I’ve held this story close to me ever since I heard it because of the powerful truth and insight within it. The truth is life offers little clarity, but with faith we can enjoy the journey anyway.

In a couple of weeks I’m going to the beach. I slip into my wetsuit (or push, prod, and poke), and I’ll step off a boat into a vast ocean full of unknowns underneath. And with just a little faith, I’ll enjoy every single minute of it!

May you trust God in uncertain times, and may you know the great joy of walking in risky faith!

[1] Matthew 14:15-19, NASB