When turmoil and chaos and tragedy strike we are left wondering, with all of this, with something this big, where do you start? How do you start? You put aside hatred and love one neighbor and then keep going one by one. Nothing fancy. John the Baptist went out in the wilderness, ate bugs and wore camel hair. He would stand out at their dinner party, am I right? But he went and began to prepare the way of the Lord, to build the kingdom of God. He just started and kept going. Nothing fancy. He prepared the way for God’s grace. Listen to these good news words again from Isaiah about the Messiah. “He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth.” I think that is how we are supposed to go about preparing the way of the Lord. We forgo judging and we bend over in the midst of the tragedy of others and help them pick up a piece and put it in a pile, then another and we keep going. When we work with others, hope becomes reality. God has given us one another and we are all called to be one another’s greatest miracle……. Water is such a power symbol for us. It’s the physical symbol at the center of the sacrament of Holy Baptism after all. At the beginning of the rite the pastor says, “God, who is rich in mercy and love, gives us a new birth into a living hope through the sacrament of baptism. By water and the Word God delivers us from sin and death and raises us to new life in Jesus Christ. We are united with all the baptized in the one body of Christ, anointed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, and joined in God’s mission for the life of the world.” Every week, here at Living Faith, we fill our font to overflowing and remember God’s overflowing grace. But in the rite it comes to the THANKSGIVING AT THE FONT though, right off the bat we are also reminded of the destructive power of water as Noah and his family flee onto the ark. That’s more the side of water that I saw this past week. This past week I traveled to Fort Myers to the location of one of our sister churches, St Peter’s Lutheran Church. St Peter’s sits across the street from beach front property. Actually, now aside from the road the church is beachfront, at least what is left of it. As I traveled over, I entered Estero Blvd, the beach front road from the southern end of the island. You’ve probably seen video on the news or video and pictures online as I had. The thing is they do not capture the magnitude of the destruction. As I moved North the destruction continued to get worse. I thought I should take pictures, but as soon as I thought about it, I was overwhelmed by the feeling of “take a picture of what? It’s everywhere” I passed one of the debris dropoff areas for the big trucks and the mounds were massive and yet everywhere I looked on the main road and side streets there were still big piles of debris, some starting to spill into the road. This was for miles. There were also many houses that had collapsed or were obviously going to have to be destroyed. There were areas that were completely leveled. I arrived at St Peter’s where I had gone several months ago for a fantastic pastor’s retreat. The building where we sat and ate, prayed and laughed, worshiped, bonded and fellowshipped was all but gone. The front wall was missing as were all the interior walls, kitchen, bathrooms and contents. I went to the Sanctuary building right behind it and they had pulled the car out from under the church already. All the steps, ramps and elevator that were around the perimeter were gone. Some of the pews were akimbo which was caused by the fact that the force of the waves under the floor had moved floor joists and opened up a large section of the floor. Neighbor’s and the church’s appliances, air conditioning units, sleeper sofas, heavy stucco church wall panels, glassware, office chairs, a car, concrete slabs, personal effects, trees and bushes, toilets and just a whole lot of of the stuff that we see in our houses every day had to be dug out of the sand and pulled out from under the church and lugged to the street, as well as the large amount of church effects that were ruined inside. Water can be very destructive and when coupled with 150 mph winds, being in the presence of that level of destruction is difficult to process. That island was but one location. When I went, I had hoped that I would have something meaningful to share with you. When I arrived at the family’s home where I was staying, after riding through 45 minutes of more devastation where shrimp boats were piled up on one another and yachts were suspended in the air in mangroves, I read the readings for this week. John the Baptist. Hmm. Ok, water connection, but no way. I went to bed frustrated and was hoping that God would shed some light. It was kind of weird. I woke up and realized that though I really like John the Baptist and would have liked to have met him, that he was not where it was at for me. I woke up and thought, “the stump!” Check out the first lesson there with Isaiah and then being restated in the second lesson. This week is about looking forward with hope. There’s the dead stump with a shoot springing forth. The felled tree is not poofed back to its former state. But there’s newness, rebirth, hope. I remember this huge stump in our yard in North Carolina. It was next to an overgrown woodshed. There near the stump was a rose bush that was overgrown and enmeshed in honeysuckle, thorny plants, weeds and in the winter when it was still warm enough to work outside shirtless, we found that the now dead and gone vines were poison oak. Bad week. I tried to clear out and save the heirloom, very old rose bush. There was absolutely no way. So I burned the stump and surrounding brush and rosebush. In the spring I was working there and a rose shoot was growing. I dug it up and disentangled it from all the other roots. I planted it next to the house where it thrived and bore roses. It’s still there to this day. Utter destruction and a looming cloud of the threat of hopelessness. We were standing and looking at the surrounding area and someone asked me, “with all of this, with something this big, where do you start? How do you start? I thought for a while and I said, “ I think you just bend over, pick something up and put it in a pile and keep going.” I think I said that because that’s hope, at least for me. Along with the natural disaster of Ian there’s the disaster in the way that we have come to treat one another. We’ve come to relish the opportunity to score one over one one another, to choke others out and burn down their rose bushes and in hatred to lay waste to our brothers and sisters. It says in Romans, “May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” With all of this, with something this big, where do you start? How do you start? You cease hatred and love one neighbor and keep going. Nothing fancy. John went out in the wilderness, ate bugs and wore camel hair. Who wants that guy at their dinner party? But he went and began to prepare the way of the Lord, to build the kingdom of God. He just started and kept going. Nothing fancy. He prepared the way for God’s grace. Listen to these words again from Isaiah about the Messiah. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth. I think that is how we go about building the kingdom of God. We bend over in the midst of the tragedy of others and pick up a piece and put it in a pile, then another and we keep going. When we work with others, hope becomes reality. God has given us one another. We are one another’s greatest miracle. We looked around and one handful at a time we cleared out from under the church. We made new friends in blood, sweat and toil, digging, lifting, shoveling and toting making a terrible situation a little better moment by moment, piece by piece. It was very interesting as I was leaving. I took some pictures. I looked in the fellowship hall and walked around it. It stood there wrecked and condemned. The authorities said to stay away. Yet as I walked around to the top of the front of the building stood the cross unfazed by the storm. The cross in the midst of the condemned. Isn’t that what advent is about. the coming of Emmanuel, God with us, the broken, the sinful, the hurting, the hateful, suffering with us, suffering for us? Under that cross is where Christ calls us to serve, to welcome and to love the broken, the sinful, the hurting, the hateful, and the suffering. Nothing fancy, just justice, love, mercy. He calls us to Stand, watch and act. He calls us to Live our faith and to have a Living Faith because the cross is not the end. Beyond the cross we see the empty tomb. Beyond the Stump The old German carol says. Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming From tender stem hath sprung! Of Jesse’s lineage coming, As men of old have sung. It came, a flow’ret bright, Amid the cold of winter, When half spent was the night. Isaiah ’twas foretold it, The Rose I have in mind; With Mary we behold it, The virgin mother kind. To show God’s love aright, She bore to men a Savior, When half spent was the night. This Flow’r, whose fragrance tender With sweetness fills the air, Dispels with glorious splendor The darkness everywhere. True man, yet very God, From sin and death He saves us, And lightens every load. I believe it, I’ve seen it. God help us to Lighten the loads of your children and build your kingdom, one brick at at time……
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