July 30, 2017 at Old First, Brooklyn

Art: Sacred Heart, Odilon Redon 1910

Scripture Lessons:

Genesis 29:15-28

Psalm 105:1-11

Romans 8:26-39

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

In our scripture lesson from Romans today, Paul begins by assuming that we humans are weak and need help.

“The Spirit helps us in our weakness.”

We don’t leave much room for weakness in our culture today.

Well, we have no problem recognizing the weakness of others.

In most sections of our society today, we tend act and speak as if we are strong-- and the other group, those people over there, they’re the weak ones. They’re not working as hard as they should be. They’re not as loving or compassionate as they should be. They’re not obedient. They’re not educated.

Whoever we are, we like to believe that we humans are able to make ourselves stronger and better. And we like to blame some other group of weaklings, who for some reason are choosing not to rise above their shortcomings and obstacles, for holding us all back. If only they worked harder, or thought for themselves, or were less selfish, the world would be a better place.

Paul is coming from a very different perspective. Even in our prayers, in our most private moments, he admits, we are all weak.

Prayer?! How hard can it be? You close your eyes. Maybe you kneel and cross your hands. You say some words. Jesus even told us what to say.

No, says Paul. We do not know how to pray as we ought.

We do not even know how to be in a right relationship with God who created us and loves us. How can we possibly expect to have right relationships with other people in the world, who so often challenge us, annoy us, and even hate us?

Paul asks us to begin by acknowledging our weakness, even in prayer, away from the eyes and expectations of the world, alone before God.

What does it mean, that we do not know how to pray as we ought?

It’s not because God requires us to pray in a certain way, with specific behaviors or words, like a magic spell that we have to say properly.

As Jesus tells us, God knows what we need before we ask, or even before we know.

And as our psalmist sings today, God is always mindful of his covenant, of the promise he made for a thousand generations. God does not need us to remind him to take care of us.

Maybe the problem with our prayers is not that we don’t have the right words,

But that we rely too much on our words.

There are times when I pray-- when I want to give thanks to God, or when I want to repent, I know my heart is not right about something, I am holding on to anger or fear.

But instead of offering myself in thanksgiving and repentance to God, often my words , even in prayer, become like me trying to help myself, or justify myself. Or my words keep me within my own thoughts and emotions. I want to escape this prison, my words only add more bricks.

It should be no wonder that our words trip us.

Our minds and our senses are overwhelmed by how many words we encounter in our world today.

And these words don’t always mean what we expect them to.

And If you don’t prefer these words? Try these alternative words.

Most of the words we encounter today, we know to be unworthy of our trust. As we learn how easily these words are abused, they start to mean less. And in such an environment, we risk that our own words, start to mean nothing to us.

At the same time, words also seem to be more important than ever!

You do not need to look far to see how words can divide us against each other. Words can generate hatred and violence. Certainly in our nation and world, but also in our relationships at home.

But we also know that words can bring people together. Words can heal relationships, and build unity and love.

As human beings, our words have power over each other. Could it be that if we had the right words to say to each other, the problems and pain of the world might be solved?

Actually, our brother Paul reminds us, God does not need your words.

You can let go of words.

God searches the heart. And God’s own spirit comes to our heart, not with words-- but with sighs and with silence.

In this same letter, Paul asks us to give up our sense of purpose and control over our lives.  “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

This is a challenging idea. We like to think that we are in control of our lives and our destiny.

God knew us already-- God decided already our purpose and destiny-- that we be conformed to the image of God’s son. God called us. God made us righteous. God glorified us.

This is a glimpse of God who is so much greater than our ideas, who is beyond our understand of time and space. God already did all these things! And Paul is overflowing with joy to tell us this. Our salvation is not in jeopardy. God is for us. Who can be against us? I invite you to believe, siblings, that Christ’s love for you is not in doubt. There is nothing that can separate you from that love.

But our understanding holds us back.

The words that fill our mind, telling us who we are, and who God is, and how the world works.

I know the rules. I have the rulebook. We all do.

This rulebook we carry is different for each of us, of course, but we act like it’s absolute.

What are you looking for in this life? What do you allow myself to do? What is that thing you have so forbidden yourself, that the world would end if you did it? What do you reveal to others? What do you hide? What things can you forgive in others, and what things are unforgivable?

We are very willing to live by this rulebook, conformed to this image we have of our own self. It is a kind of predestination, living under the control of our human culture, our family, our religion, our economy, our own habits. Paul might call it life in the flesh.

But God is calling us out of this world of the flesh. God asks us to pass through things temporal, to an eternal purpose.

God has predestined us to be conformed to the image of Jesus, who died and was raised, in crucifixion and in resurrection. In suffering and in glory, so that Christ will be the firstborn of many siblings. God’s purpose is that we become God’s family.

All things work together for good, Paul writes to us.

But our expectations of “good” are not the same as God’s.

So often what I call good, is the good according to my rulebook. Maybe it’s the desire for admiration, for security, for pleasure.

Those things are like more words.

Words can be beautiful. Words can serve a noble purpose.

But words used only for my gratification, words twisted and shouted and sold, soon mean nothing. Words becoming words becoming nothing.

I don’t mean to call all words evil.

God’s word created the universe, and created us.

God’s word sustains us every week.

God’s word became flesh in Jesus, who gave his body and his blood for us.

God’s word may come to us in silence. In a sigh too deep for words.

Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls.

In the Ancient world, pearls were the rarest of all stones. This merchant dealing in pearls is very wealthy. He works every day with the most beautiful objects on earth.

But the kingdom of heaven is not like a merchant who collects many pearls and becomes very rich.

The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant who went and sold all that he had, to buy only one pearl.

The kingdom of heaven is a process of letting go. I invite you to believe that God will meet you in the silence.