Scriptures: Isaiah 1:1, 10-20, Psalm 33:12-22 Hebrews 11:1-16 Luke 12:32-40
Do your parents and grandparents
have – or, if they’ve passed on, did they have – certain stories that they’d
tell? Perhaps your parents had a story
of how they met – or, if you are parents, you tell your children stories of how
you met. Or parents tell and re-tell
stories of things their children did or said as they were growing up.
It’s true, isn’t it, that these
stories come into being some time after the events they’re about – for example,
at the time you meet your spouse or partner, you often have no way of knowing in
that moment they’ll eventually become the person with whom you spend the rest
of your life or some portion thereof.
It’s only afterward, in retrospect, looking back over the course of your
marriage, that you can tell the story of how you and your spouse met, as you
decide consciously or unconsciously which parts of the story are important to
emphasize and which parts can be skipped over.
And as we tell and retell these stories, shaping them in different ways
over time, eventually these stories tell us who we are- who we are as
individuals; if we’re married or partnered and perhaps have children, who we
are as a couple or a family.
In our first New Testament reading
today, the writer of the letter to the Hebrews gives his readers a series of
family portraits – those of Abel, of Enoch, of Noah, of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob. For the early Jewish followers of
Jesus, these were family stories of their patriarchs, of their great great
great great (lots more greats) grandfathers and great uncles and such. For us as Christians, these are stories of
our family of faith, a family that’s not held together by ties of blood or
kinship, but by ties of trusting in God.
The writer of Hebrews begins this
series of family stories with the words, “Now faith is the assurance of things
hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
And in each of these stories, the person named – Abel or Enoch or Noah
or Abraham – trusts in God and acts on that trust, despite all
appearances. We can think of Noah
hearing God’s warning and building an ark, even though at the time he started
building, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Or Abraham leaving his home to go to a place God would show him, and
living there for a time in tents. Or
Abraham continuing to hope and prepare for the arrival of a son, despite his
age and Sarah’s age and despite their having been unable to have a child for
years and decades on end.
The writer of Hebrews then goes on
to say, “They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth,
for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a
homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they
would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better
country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called
their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.”
Put another way, these people all
trusted that despite their circumstances, God had something better in mind for
them. And they trusted enough to act on
their beliefs – Abel trusted enough to offer a sacrifice acceptable to God;
while we don’t know much about Enoch, we’re told that he trusted God so much
that he came to walk with God without experiencing death – and Noah built his
ark, and Abraham visited the land of promise.
These people experienced a kind of holy restlessness, a kind of holy
discontent. Had they just been contented
with their lives as they were, or had they just tried to be more successful in
worldly terms – seeking more land, more cattle, more servants, more money - they
might have lived and died happily, but we would not have read about them.
The writer of Hebrews says that
they were seeking a homeland, seeking a better country. Now, I remember going to summer camp long
years ago, almost 50 years ago. The
first time my parents sent me to camp, I guess I was a little too young, and I
was terribly homesick. I didn’t like the
food – I sure didn’t like having oatmeal for breakfast every day - I didn’t want to be with the other campers, I
didn’t want to sleep in a cabin, didn’t like showering in front of other kids, and
I sure didn’t like being covered with mosquito bites. And I missed my parents. While the campsite was beautiful, I didn’t
want to be there. I couldn’t wait to get
home. Now, I also went to camp the next
year, at the very same campsite, and that year I had a great time. But I still remember that feeling of
homesickness, almost 50 years later. We might say that these heroes of faith –
Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham – were homesick as well, homesick for something
they’d never actually experienced, but knew by faith was out there somewhere.
As Christians, these are stories
from our family of faith. And as members
of Emanuel Church, we also have our stories, from our Emanuel Church family of
faith. The German and Swiss immigrants
who gathered this congregation in the late 1850’s also lived with a kind of
holy homesickness, a kind of holy discontent.
They were from the German Reformed tradition, and even though they were
initially served by Lutheran and Methodist missioners, they were very clear
that they wanted to worship in the Reformed tradition – and God provided a Rev.
J. G. Neuber, who became Emanuel’s first pastor. Our longtime members know other stories of our
church – having undertaken to acquire land and build a church even though they
only had $9 in the treasury at the time, the important role of the Ladies Aid
society in raising funds for the church over many years, Rev. Boehringer
creating an orphanage for children orphaned by the Civil War, which we now know
as Bethany Children’s Home – our legacy to the wider church and community. There are stories of our cooperation with All
Saints, loaning our chairs to that congregation as they were getting started. These are stories that have been passed down
within our congregation. And our
longtime members have their own memories of beloved pastors such as Rev. Victor
Steinberg.
What are the stories, what are the
memories that our generation of Emanuel Members will leave for the future? What legacy will we leave? Will people be able to say of Emanuel Church,
“This place – these people – changed my life, even saved my life?” Or will we come and go without leaving a
trace?
In our
reading from Luke’s Gospel, Jesus shows us what it might look like to be church
in a way that will leave a legacy for others. “"Do not be afraid, little flock, for it
is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions,
and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing
treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where
your treasure is, there your heart will be also.“Do not be afraid.” Our mothers and fathers in faith surely felt fear, but moved forward despite their fears. They didn’t let their lack of resources stop them from building this church. Instead, they trusted that God would provide, and acted on that trust.
“Sell your possessions and give alms….make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven…for where your treasure is, there your heart will also.” Our legacy as a congregation will not be what we keep for ourselves, but what we do to help others. Rev. Boehringer saw orphaned children in desperate need, trusted God to provide, and did what he felt needed to be done to care for them. It cost him money and time, probably cost him his health and his life, as he died just a year or so after starting the orphanage. But like Abel’s sacrifice remembered by the writer of the letter to the Hebrews, the fruit of Rev Boehringer’s sacrifice continues to live on, and some of us have actually visited Bethany Home to witness for ourselves the present-day fruit of Rev Boehringer’s work nearly 150 years ago.
Jesus went on to say, "Be dressed for action and have your lamps
lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding
banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks.
Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I
tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will
come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn,
and finds them so, blessed are those slaves. But know this: if the owner of the
house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his
house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at
an unexpected hour."
“Be dressed for action and have your lamps
lit.” We can’t just sleepwalk our way
through worship, or through life. When we come to church,
we never know who is going to show up. And
in any case, we have faith that God will show up, that God is with us. But our neighbors may show up as well. Are we ready?
Are we dressed for action? Are our
lamps lit? Are we prepared to welcome
people – and beyond welcoming, to meet their needs, to offer good news? Or when opportunity to share grace and good
news comes at an unexpected hour, will we be asleep at the switch? Are we ready – not only in the ultimate sense
of Christ’s return at the end of days, but for the day-to-day encounters with
Christ in the face of our sisters and brothers and neighbors in need.
“Now faith
is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” May we experience holy discontent with the
world as it is, and homesickness for the world as God would have it – and may
we act on our faith through our words of caring and deeds of love, that God’s
love and grace may be visible to all. Amen.
