Sermon
When
the Going Gets Rough…Keep the Faith
John 6:24-35
Sunday, August 5, 2012
When you all think of Nevada you probably
think of Las Vegas, or perhaps Reno. Bright lights, busy gambling casinos, sequin
adorned show girls, and lots of high rollers.
Well, that’s not the Nevada I knew. My home
was in Pahrump – a Native American word that means “water stone,” or “great
spring.” Pahrump, with its 27,000 residents, rests in a flat desert plateau
surrounded by some of the highest mountains in the United States. This un-incorporated,
truly “wild west” town is the largest in Nye County, an 18,000 square mile area
of mountainous desert that is home to Area 51, the Tonopah Test Site and Creech
Air Force Base, the site where our nation’s drone missile program is
headquartered.
Nye County is rural – 1.3 residents per
square mile. It is the poorest county in the nation, with the highest rate of
unemployment in the nation. The temperature can plunge to 20 degrees in the
winter, and hovers at 110 degrees from May until the end of October. Winds
coming down from the mountains averaging 35-50 miles per hour are a common
occurrence. All in all a harsh climate in a harsh environment.
When I first arrived in Pahrump all I could
think of was the American Pioneers, who migrated west to seek a better life
between 1776 and 1890. They settled and developed new areas of this country,
establishing farms and ranches that were to feed the nation for many years to
come.
I envisioned these seekers struggling to find
a safe path across treacherous desert terrain in primitive wooden wagons with a
minimum of protection from the wind, the rain, the snow, and the extreme
temperatures. Standing in my desert backyard, just several yards from a solid
and well-built, air-conditioned and heated dwelling, I wondered “How on earth
did they do it? It does not seem possible that anyone would have the strength,
courage or endurance to live such a difficult and treacherous life, or to
embark on a journey so filled with danger and the unknown.”
It was then that I began to see the desert and
desert life in an entirely new light. Moving to the desert was not the
glamorous and scenic adventure that I had imagined it would be when I first
left Florida. Rather, it was an encounter with an incredibly stark but
beautiful primitive environment – an environment in which God’s presence cannot
go undetected.
In the desert, God’s presence is everywhere. The
intense, limitless blue of the sky; the ragged glory of mountain peaks and
volcanic flumes; the miles upon miles of undisturbed sand and sage brush; and,
the deep spring-fed pools filled with pupfish, a species that is the
last known survivor of a fish species that lived in Lake Manly, which
dried up at the end of the last ice age and is now
called Death Valley.
Increasingly, the opening verses of Genesis ran
through my mind: “In the beginning when
God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and
darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the
face of the waters.” (Gen 1: 1-3)
My encounter with the desert also brought each
and every Scripture story into sharp relief. Living in the desert, I came to
see and understand in a new and vividly real way the journey of the Israelites
from Egypt to the Promised Land, the struggles of the Israelites over the
years, and the land of the prophets. I imagined Jesus struggling with the
desert elements as he carried out his ministry throughout Galilee and all of
Jerusalem. I developed a new appreciation for the astounding courage and endurance
of St. Paul as he traveled thousands of miles to spread the Good News.
The desert became, for me, symbolic of man’s
struggle with life, from the beginning of time, a struggle conducted in many
ways and in many places to seek a better way – a better life; a struggle filled
with hardship and the unknown. A
struggle embarked on by many who seek answers and relief – a better way.
Throughout Scripture, throughout the history
of the world, and throughout our own lives the theme of this struggle is played
out over and over again. We find ourselves seeking a better way. We embark upon
a journey of change. All too frequently we become frustrated and angry when our
seeking does not produce the relief that we imagined it would. Our courage and
our hope fails, and we decide that it just as easy to go back to old ways
rather than risk more frustration and fear – more of the unknown. In other
words, our faith fails us.
Today’s Old Testament reading from Exodus describes
this scenario perfectly. The Israelites have escaped from Egypt; they are in
the wilderness lost and hungry. Their hope fails, and they want to go back to
the life of the known; the predictable.
“The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses
and Aaron in the wilderness. 3The Israelites said to them, ‘If only
we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the
fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this
wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” (Ex. 16:2-4)
But, God, as always, was present –watching
–listening –ready to offer salvation. And, so the Exodus story continues:
9 Then Moses said to Aaron, ‘Say to the whole congregation of
the Israelites, “Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.” ’ 10And
as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards
the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. 11The
Lord spoke to Moses and said, 12‘I have heard the complaining of the
Israelites; say to them, “At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning
you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your
God.” (Ex. 16:9-13)
God saw the suffering of the Israelites and
through his grace he gave them food – manna from heaven - the bread of life.
Over and over again from Genesis through the
Book of Revelation we hear the same message. Draw near to the Lord – whoever
comes to the Lord will never by hungry and whoever believes in the Lord will
never be thirsty.
John’s Gospel message for today is no
different. Jesus accuses the crowd of following him only to ensure that they
will receive a good meal. He says to them, “Do
not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal
life, which the Son of Man will give you.” (John 6:27) They still
don’t get it – they want to know what they have to do in order to get on God’s
good side. Even after Jesus tells them once again that “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent,”
(John 6:29) they still
demand concrete evidence. They ask Jesus, “What
sign are you going to give us, so that we may see it and believe you?” (John 6:30) Jesus, once
again, explains “…the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and
gives life to the world.” (John 6:33)
And so it goes, the scenario playing itself out
time after time – from the beginning of time. We wander into the wilderness
looking for a better way. We are lost. We loose hope. God sees our suffering
and in his eternal compassion offers us salvation, not through works but
through grace. All we need is faith.
Today’s world is no different than any other
time in history. We struggle as individuals and as communities with myriad
challenges. Our church is no different. At this moment in time, literally
hundreds of dedicated people and scores of well-informed committees and task
forces are spending thousands of hours wandering in the desert, figuratively, in
an effort to ensure that God’s grace and salvation continue to be available to
those who suffer; those who are frightened and have lost hope.
Some of these dedicated spirits are saying,
“Let’s go back to our old ways – it’s safer that way.” Others are saying, “No,
we need to move forward; we must have faith and hope that we will achieve a
goal as yet unseen.” They are remembering Paul’s words in his Letter to the Hebrews,
“…faith is the assurance of things hoped
for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Heb 11:1)
What does all this mean for us here at St.
Paul’s and for all of our brothers and sisters in the Episcopal Church
throughout our eight provinces? It means that we need to plow on and look
forward, as did the Israelites, the American Pioneers and so many others before
us. We need to move forward bravely through the wilderness to a new and better
way of bringing the good news to those who have no hope. We must continue in
faith:
·
To proclaim
the Good News of the Kingdom
·
To teach,
baptize and nurture new believers
·
To respond
to human need by loving service
·
To seek to
transform unjust structures of society
·
To strive to
safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth
In a sermon given about one month following
the destruction of the World Trade Center by Al Qaida, William Sloane Coffin, an
American liberal Christian clergyman
and long-time peace activist, said:
Being optimistic is hard, of course…But let us remember how bleak
the scene, how dismal the future to the eyes of Habakkuk, who still went on to
say, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation.”
He understood that God’s grace wends it redemptive way through the disorders of
the world and that religious folk must keep the faith, despite the evidence,
knowing that only in so doing has the evidence any chance of changing.”
“…religious folk must keep the
faith, despite the evidence, knowing that only in so doing has the evidence any
chance of changing.” A powerful thought.
So, my friends let us not loose heart. Let us
press on in faith, through the wilderness times of our lives, through the
wilderness of our mission as Christ’s disciples, knowing that God is with us
always.
“The same great power that moves the stars, that orders the seas
and sets the winds in motion, that gives birth to all that lives and makes the
Moon rise in pale beauty, this same power stands by your side. You need never
fear. You need never doubt. The One who designed all sees you, knows your name,
and loves you with a love as deep as love can find.”
Steven Charleston, Hope As
Old As Fire” p.90
