Sermon: Wrestling with God

Sermon -- The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade, PhD
Oct. 20, 2013
“Wrestling with God”
Genesis 32:20-32

This passage from Genesis about Jacob wrestling with the mysterious stranger at the river is one of my favorite stories from the bible. I think the reason that it’s always resonated with me is because my maiden name is Jacobs, so I always felt an affinity for the character of Jacob in the bible. And this passage about the mysterious wrestling match has always been important for me because there have been times in my life when I’ve felt like I’ve been wrestling with myself, or my past, or even God.

I liked this passage so much, in fact, that I actually wrote paper on it for my Old Testament class in seminary. In my research for the paper, I examined the original Hebrew text and found some interesting things about word-plays used in the passage. But before I get into that, let me give you the backstory leading up to this event.

If you’ll recall, Jacob is a man of cunning and trickery. From the moment he emerges from the womb, grabbing the heel of his twin brother, Esau, he always seeks to gain the upper hand in life through underhanded means.

 He went after his brother’s birthright and the blessing from his father that should have been for his older brother, both times using dirty tricks. Then he has to flee from his home to escape the murderous anger of Esau.

He finds himself alone in the desert and dreams of a ladder or stairway to heaven with angels going up and down upon it. And in the dream, God promises to be with him no matter what and eventually bring him back to his homeland.

Jacob goes onto the country of his Uncle Laban where he marries his daughters, Leah and Rachel. [See the connection here? Leah married Jacob -- Leah Jacobs. My parents were pretty clever. And my daughter’s name is Rachel. See we keep it in the family!] Jacob eventually acquires great wealth while working for his uncle. And then he feels the call from God to return to his home country. And Jacob is still up to his old tricks when preparing to meet Esau. He divided his entourage in two to protect at least half his property from his brother, whom he fears might seek revenge. Then he sent “gifts” of flocks ahead as a buffer between him and Esau.

So up until his wrestling match at the river Jabbok, Jacob’s methods of avoiding direct confrontation and outsmarting his opponents have been successful, garnering him women, children, and material wealth. But here is what Jacob is about to find out: The very God who enabled Jacob to achieve such success requires more. During that fateful night alone beside the river, Jacob finally faces the darkest parts of his personality, the fears about his past, and confronts the future that God has destined for him.

Now here’s where the interesting word-plays come into the scene. There are three of them. Let’s start with the words Jabbok/Jacob. Jabbok is the name of the river he is about to cross. And the Hebrew verb y’baq, means “to wrestle”. And both are twists on the name, “Jacob.” Jabbok is the river that is considered to border the frontier to the land promised Jacob and his ancestors -- the land of Canaan. So the setting is crucial to the upcoming event.

It is significant that Jacob deliberately sends his family and possessions across the river. It signifies that Jacob is separate from “the tangible evidence of [his] blessing, “ (Weis, p. 106). He is isolated from his identity which puts him in a state of vulnerability. It parallels his situation at Bethel, but this time he is choosing to be alone. He’s not running away, he’s going back. And he chooses to go alone. This shows that he is willing to face his destiny without any help or protection.

Now there is actually some debate among scholars about just who it is that Jacob wrestles. 

Some scholars say it is just a river demon. Some say it’s an angel sent by God to test Jacob. There is even the possibility that Jacob is actually wrestling with himself, which plays off of the twins theme between him and Esau. There is certainly deliberate ambiguity in the text. Jacob was certainly feeling some guilt and fear about his past. The two figures are of equal strength. And the blow to the hollow of his thigh is a dirty trick - one that Jacob himself might use. This theory has some interesting implications as well. The nation of Israel has a history of wrestling with itself, as well as with outsiders. The tribes often fought among themselves, to which Jacob’s internal battle may allude.

But of all the possibilities as to who the stranger might be, I find that of God to be most interesting, and most consistent with future Biblical interpretation of the text. But why would God want to attack Jacob and wrestle with him? Why would God oppose Jacob coming back home, back to the land promised to him? Well, if we look carefully, we find that the attack of God is actually the encounter that Jacob himself sought. And it became the gift of grace that Jacob so desperately needed.

How does this grace come to Jacob? It comes in the form of a new name. And that leads us to the second word play. God gives Jacob the new name, Israel. The Hebrew word is yisre’eli, which has several meanings:
“May God contend.” “May God rule.” “Persevere.”

This name is appropriate on so many levels. Jacob persevered with humans and prevailed. He persevered with God and received a blessing. Even with that excruciating injury, he would not let go without wrestling a blessing from God. And this name has significance for the Jewish people, for history has shown that just as their forefather persevered with humans and with God, the Chosen People will do the same.

And that brings us to the third word play, which is on the name Jacob gives that place by the river -- Penuel. The Hebrew root is panim, meaning “face”. This works on several levels. First, Jacob is coming face-to-face with his brother Esau. Second, he is coming face-to-face with the sins of his past. Third, and most importantly, he is coming face-to-face with God.

Remember when Jacob demands a blessing from the stranger, he asks Jacob’s name. This is not a chance question. It was intended to remind Jacob of another time when Isaac, his father, asked his name. And Jacob, the deceiver, answered, “Esau.” Now, before God he admits who he really is, all his sins, all his arrogance, all his deception. And it shows that he is repenting, making a decision to turn away from his deceptive ways. (Homgren, p. 9).

And, Jacob is showing a different side of himself to God. So God responds by giving Jacob a blessing - not one stolen from his older brother. But a genuine blessing. And yet, this blessing does not come without pain. Jacob sustains an injury to his groin which will have long-lasting effects. Remember, Jacob struck others where they were most vulnerable. Now God has struck him in his most vulnerable spot.

From now on, he will walk with a limp, signifying that he can no longer stride with arrogance, but must take his steps with humility. It also means that he can father no more children, indicating that his ability to accumulate wealth is coming to an end. And it is a visible reminder to all who see him that he is a man who finally submitted to God.

As is often the case after an epiphany, the change is not fully realized right away. Remnants of the person’s old ways remain. Jacob is still not completely mature. He tries to appease his brother with gifts and flattery, and lies about his reason for not going to Seir with Esau to cover up his intention for returning to Canaan. Only in the ensuing years will Jacob grow into his new maturity as a man of God.

Now there are several lessons we can draw from this story. And depending on where you are in your life, where you are in your faith journey, you may find one lesson resonates more for you than another. So I’m going to lay them out for you and you see which one speaks to you at this stage of your life.

Hope comes in the morning. 

There will be many times when we face “demons” or mysterious forces whom we cannot see or identify. Fighting in the dark against an unknown adversary is a common experience of humanity. Yet time and again, we somehow survive the battles and look back in awe at the blessing that came out of it. Remember, “At the very hour when Jacob might have been most discouraged about himself and his situation, a new day dawned,” (IB, p. 728). Which leads us to another lesson we can learn:

Blessing can emerge from pain.

Many people endure deep pain, suffer physical, mental and spiritual woundedness, and bear the scars of life’s “wrestling matches.” And sometimes there is a tendency to misdrect the anger, pain and negative feelings. But it is actually God whom you should confront when you suffer. Only God can truly handle our grief and transform it into something useful and meaningful. Jacob was willing to learn what God might do with a man who is lame. To learn that may be the last and greatest lesson for many a human soul.” (IB, p. 729.) Whatever your pain is, wherever your wound lies, wrestle with God about it and don’t let go until you get a blessing out of it.

And finally . . .
Don’t be afraid to come to Penuel, “face-to-face.”

What is it, or who is it, that you have been avoiding? As we see from Jacob’s history, using questionable means to attain what we want and avoiding direct confrontation with someone or with God can mean not only risking what you already have, but can stunt your spiritual growth. This applies not just to individuals, but to communities as well. Especially as a church, we can be encouraged by this text to grapple with our human differences and seriously wrestle with the world in which we live. Because when we do this we will be spiritually alive and find ourselves encountering God. (Weis, p. 109.)

This story can even be seen as foreshadowing the struggle Jesus faced at the moment of his demise. Like Jacob, Jesus was separated from his companions and alone when he was attacked by the Romans and Jewish religious leaders. Who knows what demons Jesus may have faced when he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he hung on the cross, when he hovered on the precipice of death itself. But on the third morning, he, too, rose from the struggle triumphantly. And like Jacob, he had the wounds to show for it.

Coming to Penuel means coming face-to-face with yourself --- being honest with yourself, others, and God. There was honesty in Jacob’s struggle -- which is what God was looking for. This direct honesty is what God wants from us, too. If you want to receive a blessing, you must be honest - especially with God! Short cuts and tricks are not the way to receive God’s grace. And evading the consequences of our sin will only make the inevitable more painful. God cannot be conquered - to think otherwise is a sin of extreme hubris, or pride. Yet we are not to run away from meeting God face-to-face - this is a sin of cowardice.

Wrestling with God requires that you be vulnerable and honest. Yes, it may injure you. It will certainly humble you. But it will also transform you, change you. And you will receive the blessing that you need. Do not be afraid to come to Penuel. Because that is where you will encounter the grace of God. Amen.

Sources:

Holmgren, Frederick C; “Holding Your Own Against God”; Interpretation, Vol. 44, January, 1990
Weis, Richard D.; “Lessons on Wrestling with the Unseen”; Reformed Review, Vol. 42, Winter 1988

From Cosmos to Atoms: Religion and Science Meet

Fourth Sunday, Seasons of Creation Year C (Universe)

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade, PhD

Proverbs 8:22-31; Psalm 148; Colossians 1:15-20; John 6:41-51

In 7^th Grade science class our teacher wanted us to learn about the solar system.  

So he gave us each a bag of Styrofoam balls, some wire, and a diagram of the planets orbiting the sun.  In a few weeks each of us had created homemade Milky Way solar systems.  

I marveled at the simple, yet elegant design of what I saw in those diagrams: all the planets knowing their place, following the path, circling around and around endlessly.

Then our next assignment was to learn about atoms.  Remember the parts of the atom?  Protons and neutrons made up the nucleus, and the electrons sped around the nucleus in endless zipping orbits.  

It suddenly clicked for me – the parallel between the two models.  And what really blew my mind is that one was so huge – the universe - it overwhelmed me; and one was so small – an atom -  it could fit inside my body a billion times over.

And then I read the words we recited today in Psalm 148:  Praise the Lord!  Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise God in the heights!  Praise God, sun and moon, praise God, all you shining stars!  

The psalmist did not have an electron microscope, but if he did, he might very well have added:  praise God you atoms!  Praise God, protons and electrons, quarks and dark matter.  The patterns of the universe reflect each other, magnify and concentrate each other all at the same time.

Some Christians will tell you that science and religion are incompatible.  Some scientists will tell say that science and religion contradict each other.  But our passages in Scripture for this Sunday show us that, in fact, science and religion are not so far apart after all.  The highest levels of science and the most intense levels of mystical religion share much in common.  Particle physics, astrophysics, cosmology are fused with an almost religious-like mysticism that causes many scientists to simply stand in awe of what they observe. Eric Jantsch was an astrophysicist wrote in his book The Self-organizing Universe (Pergamon; 1st edition, 1980) that that God is the mind of the universe – the self-organizing principal of cohesion and organization that evolves as the universe evolves. It is the mind in all things, in the fire, in the ecosystem, in the amoeba, in the galaxies, and in us.

The passages in the scripture readings echo this concept of the wisdom/mind of the universe.  Proverbs personifies Wisdom as a woman who works alongside God before time even began, helping to organize the universe in all its splendor. The Creation story in Colossians is a cosmic story that shows Christ present with God at the beginning, and that Christ’s presence dwells in every aspect of the universe.  How can that be?  How can Christ be present in all things?  Remember the Big Bang theory taught in science class? 

That supernova had a life, death and resurrection, in that it birthed the elements of the universe as it exploded. Its death brought new life – helium, hydrogen, the beginning of galaxies. This means that Nature itself contains this imprint of the crucified and resurrected Christ – a death that brought new life. Thus Christ is in every place, in every creature.

And what does this Wisdom have to do with us?  Wisdom intimately forms every aspect of the elements, matter and energy itself.  Dianne Bergant observes:  "From the pathways of human society, she transports her hearers to the primordial arena of creation.” [1]  Wisdom beckons people to follow her, to learn from her, to feast at her table.  Wisdom formed earth, water, plants and animals. Wisdom formed you, and invites you to learn all you can about the wonders of God’s creation.  You want to be a scientist and be a Christian?  There is no conflict.  Watch, observe, learn, offer hypotheses, create theories.  Carl Sagan once said that human beings are the way the cosmos becomes aware of itself.  You are one expression of the universe becoming conscious of itself.

 

It’s no surprise, then, that the Cosmic Christ becomes Jesus of Nazareth, God Incarnate, God of the Flesh, God the Human Being.  The Gospel text from John illustrates the sensuous particularity of Wisdom-Christ’s teachings.  Jesus said:  “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” Bread is so tangible, so earthy, so incarnational.  Smell a loaf of freshly baked bread and think of the memories that are evoked for you.  

Grandma’s kitchen, a favorite corner bakery, an aunt’s house at the holidays, all remind us that love is often expressed by the labor of our hands meant for the hunger of our mouths and bodies.  The same material that makes up the stars in the heavens is the same as the atoms that make up the bread that nourishes your body.  It is all imprinted with the mark of the Cosmic Christ.

Nowhere is this more real than at the Eucharist, at Communion where the cosmic and the particular come together. Think of the doxology we sing or speak at the time of Holy Communion:  “Holy, holy, holy Lord, Lord God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory.” Doxa means glory, radiance, beauty – it is a cosmic word; it is the radiance that permeates all things. Hildegard of Bingham says that there is no creature that does not have a radiance. A tiny single-celled sea creature, an elephant, a redwood, a baby.  Even the atoms of the universe contain photons – radiance, light rays! The glory of God, the radiance of the Cosmic Christ is, literally, in all things!

 

Every person is a unique expression of that radiance – there is no one else in the history of the universe who was you, or is you, or ever will be you. When that bread is put into your hand, you hear the words:  “The body of Christ given for you.” 

You – a being of light, an expression of God’s consciousness, a student at Wisdom’s table.  You, too, are the Alpha and the Omega. You are the first and last you. And you are precious, cherished by the Wisdom, the Beauty, the Mind of God who beholds you and loves you – right down to your smallest atoms.  Amen.

---

[1] Dianne Bergant, Israel's Wisdom Literature : A Liberation-Critical Reading (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1997), 83.

Waking Up to Confront the Storm

Third Sunday, Seasons of Creation Year C (Storm)

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade, PhD

 [This is part of a four-part series of commentaries for the lectionary series "Seasons of Creation."  You can find this commentary and others in the series here:  http://www.letallcreationpraise.org/commentary-on-the-season-of-creation-in-year-b.  You can also find resources for sermons, liturgies, hymnody, devotions and other Creation-centered worship ideas at:   http://www.letallcreationpraise.org and http://www.lutheransrestoringcreation.org/.]

Job 28:20-27; Psalm 29; 1 Corinthians 1:21-31; Luke 8:22-25

When I was a child I looked forward to thunderstorms.  At the first rumble of thunder and crack of lightning, my father would call my three siblings and me out to the porch swing where we all cuddled under the blanket and sang the songs he taught us.  As the rain came down in sheets, bathing the green yard, we were bathed in the warmth of a father’s love singing “Down in the Valley.”  There was a feeling of peace in the midst of the storm.

 

The writer of Psalm 29 seems to have a similar positive experience with storms.  While there is certainly awe of those mighty energies of nature that can break trees and cause the wilderness to shake, there is also a feeling of comfort hearing the voice of God over the waters.  The psalmist recognizes that nature gives testimony to God’s ultimate power over the forces of nature.  In the temple of Earth, all say, “Glory!” – both human and other-than-human.

 

Insurance agencies and power company crews have a less positive view of these energies of nature.  Interestingly, when major weather events happen they are called “acts of God.”  But the attitude is not necessarily one of reverence.  When those broken trees fall on houses and cars, snapping lines strung between poles and cutting off electricity, very few are saying “Glory.”  More likely they are cursing or lamenting the destruction left behind.

Something has happened to the quality and quantity of storms in the last few decades, however, that has fundamentally changed the nature of these weather events.   In an interview with Bill Moyers on climate change, scientist Anthony Leiserowitz, director of the Yale Project on Climate Change Communication, described the situation: “2011 was an all-time record year in the United States, for example. We had 14 individual climate and weather related disasters that each cost this country more than $1 billion. That was an all-time record, blew away previous records. And in 2012 we had events ranging from the summer-like days in January in Chicago with people out on the beach, clearly not a normal occurrence, an unusually warm spring, record setting searing temperatures across much of the lower 48, one of the worst droughts that America has ever experienced, a whole succession of extreme weather events.” (http://billmoyers.com/segment/anthony-leiserowitz-on-making-people-care-about-climate-change/)

 

Are these really “acts of God”?  Or should they be described as “acts of human-induced climate change”?  How easy it is for some to wave away these new climate realities as just “part of the natural cycle of the earth.”  But the refusal to recognize that climate change is caused by humanity’s addiction to fossil fuels that leads to greenhouse emissions that warm the planet and cause untold counts of destruction and suffering is actually a form of evil.  Ecotheologian Cynthia Moe-Lobeda calls it “systemic evil” that enlists the “over-consuming class” of society in its never-ending greed for more, at the cost of untold suffering of billions across the planet (Cynthia Moe-Lobeda, Resisting Structural Evil:  Love as Ecological-Economic Vocation, Fortress Press, MN, 2013).

So what is the voice of the Lord saying today, in the midst of these catastrophic weather events and the climate crisis?  Where is Wisdom-Sophia when we need her most?  At a time when our little boat of Planet Earth is more threatened than it has ever been – by a storm of our own making – it appears that someone is blithely asleep on the deck below.

 

The reading from Job reminds us that God’s wisdom is sometimes hidden.  There is a mystery, a profound unknownness to the inner workings of God’s mind, so to speak.  And, according to verse 28, the way to access that wisdom is through fear of the Lord and departing from evil.  The Hebrew word for fear in this passage is yi’rah, meaning fear, reverence and respect.  The problem with the corporations who profit so mightily from our addiction to fossil fuels is that they have no fear of the Lord.  In fact, they think of themselves as gods, and, indeed, appear to have the power to affect wind and water just as much as God.

 

The preacher of today’s readings may want to give the congregation an example of someone or some entity departing from evil because they finally “get it,” grasping the import of their decisions and actions.  Moe-Lobeda’s book gives excellent examples of individuals and groups of citizens who are, in a sense, waking up to the reality of the state of our planet.  They are realizing the way in which our purchases and choices of energy sources are connected with the storms and droughts that ravage our communities and lives.  They are rousing from sleep, as it were, and finally taking up the work of rebuking those economic systems that cause the raging wind and waves.  Perhaps that is one way to understand the story of Jesus being roused from sleep to calm the storm.  It may be that his actions were a kind of parable:  “The kingdom of God is like waking from sleep to confront the storm.”  Perhaps the Jesus we seek is within us, just waiting to be roused from sleep to rebuke the forces that are causing the raging wind and waves. 

 

 

Verse 24 of the First Corinthians passage reminds us that we are called.  In what way do we understand our calling as Christians to stand up together to confront the storm of systemic evil and call for another way to live?  It can feel intimidating to stand up to the mighty Goliaths of industry who laugh at our tiny, insignificant voices.  To paraphrase verse 26, many in the environmental movement are neither powerful nor of noble birth.  Aside from the handful of celebrities who lend their name-recognition to the cause, the majority of those who work in the environmental movement are ordinary citizens, many of whom had never been politically active, but now are compelled to do something to respond to threats to their children’s and community’s air, water, land and public health.  And those individuals are often despised and publicly derided by bloggers and pundits directly or indirectly paid through polluting corporations.  Yet we have faith that the actions of those who are “low” will “reduce to nothing things that are.”  And as Christians, we proclaim this action as initiated by God and ultimately giving glory to God.

The good news for me as a Christian environmental activist who is storm-weary from skirmishes ranging from confronting fracking to standing up to a proposed tire burner in my community, is that ultimately the powers that think themselves greater than God will fall just as easily as the waves and wind before the hand of Jesus.  Internally, the storms that rage in me are just as answerable to the command of Jesus.  With one cry to the Master, the wild waves and wind always calm themselves in his presence, and, once again, I experience peace in the midst of the storms.

The Wisdom of Creation, Part Two: Animals

Biblical Commentary:  Second Sunday, Seasons of Creation Year C (Animal)

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade, PhD

Job 39:1-8, 26-30

Psalm 104:14-23

1 Corinthians 1:10-23

Luke 12:22-31

[This is part of a four-part series of commentaries for the lectionary series "Seasons of Creation."  You can find this commentary and others in the series here:  http://www.letallcreationpraise.org/commentary-on-the-season-of-creation-in-year-b.  You can also find resources for sermons, liturgies, hymnody, devotions and other Creation-centered worship ideas at:   http://www.letallcreationpraise.org and http://www.lutheransrestoringcreation.org/.]

Once again, wisdom is the byword for these passages in Scripture that open a conversation about what humans consider worth knowing and valuing in the world, especially regarding animals.  These texts would be ideal for a Blessing the Animals Sunday where the congregation can be invited to bring their pets, farm animals, or pictures of their favorite creatures to the service.  Consider having a soundtrack of animal noises in the background during the prelude or at key parts of the service, invoking the presence of our other-than-human sisters and brothers in God’s Creation. 

Both the passages in Job and Psalm 104 engage in a positive theology of nature wherein animals are not just passive receptors of God’s grace, but actively doing God’s work with their very existence.  The processes of their life in the ecosystems God established testify to an enduring truth: God’s work never fails.  What does fail, however, is human willingness to recognize the intrinsic value of the animals and plants who share our home on Earth.  Too often animals are seen as nothing but our servants, entertainment, subjects of scientific experimentation, or food sources. 

I once toured a “factory farm” that included warehouses of hundreds of turkey poults wandering motherless and shivering across sterile, hay-strewn concrete floors. 

  Outside were acres of large pens packed so tightly with young turkeys they could barely turn around, the scene reminiscent of dismal German concentration camps.  

When I asked the farmer whether it bothered him to see the turkeys in such a state, I received a blank look.  These turkeys were nothing more than a cash crop for him, no different than the rows of genetically-modified corn stalks in his fields.  He was not an evil man by any means, and in fact was a faithful member of a local church.  But I had to wonder about the emotional disconnect the enabled him to ignore, deny or otherwise not register the suffering of these animals in his care.

And then I had to wonder at my own emotional disconnect when I next went to the grocery store and picked up the sterile, plastic-wrapped package of turkey meat hanging from the thin metal prong in the refrigerated aisle.  Which of the young turkeys huddled in the warehouse would I now feed to my children?  All of a sudden, meat-buying became uncomfortable because of what I had come to know about the turkeys.

 

“Consider,” urges Jesus in Luke 12:22-31.  Katanoeo, in Greek.  It means “perceive, remark, observe, understand, fix one’s eyes and attention on.”  In Job 39, God asks the man if he “knows” about the animals in the world around him.   Yada in Hebrew.  It means to “know, learn to know, use one’s mind, to be acquainted with.”  The function of Wisdom in this week’s readings, then, is to help us to perceive God’s Creation in a way that is not self-serving, but self-decentering.  Preachers of these texts might consider sharing their own story of a time when they came to a point of uncomfortable awareness of the suffering their own purchasing decisions made when it comes to animals.  Examples abound: seeing a Youtube video of chickens with their beaks cut off in tight cages; pictures of deformed dogs from “puppy mills” gone awry in the business of supplying pets; the conversation with the vegan who confronts us with their ethical reasons for refusing to eat meat.

The role of the Church in the twenty-first century, according to Thomas Berry, is to help shape a future that is based on human-Earth relations.   “The future of the other two relations [human-divine and inter-human] depends upon this third relation, our human capacity to recognize our place in the structure of the universe and to fulfill our role within this setting."^[1]  Berry states that our “ultimate concern” must be “the integrity of the universe upon which the human depends in such an absolute manner."^[2]  Berry coined the term "Ecozoic Era" to describe the period he would like to see emerge when humans "would be present to the planet in a mutually enhancing manner.  We need to establish ourselves in a single integral community including all component members of planet Earth."^[3] 

 

This can only happen, says Berry, when humans come to see their place and role in the universe as completely dependent on the habitats, flora and fauna of Earth, all of which have intrinsic value not dependent on human needs or wants.  Accepting this limited role is the first, and most difficult, step that humans must take.  The next step for healing the damaged planet is based on an operating principle of creating continuity between the human and the non-human in every aspect of human life, from institutions and professions to programs and activities.  If these two steps are taken, Berry sees hope for humanity’s and the planet’s survival.

Of course, the world will see this kind of animal-ethics-activism by people of faith as “foolishness,” as Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians reminds us.    The meat-processing corporations that profit obesely from our addiction to meat would much rather have our Blessing the Animals service end with petting the pets and returning home for Sunday dinner complete with hormone-injected roast beef.  Likewise, those in our congregations whose livings depend on our subjugation and consumption of animals for their livelihood will not take kindly to a heavy-handed “law” sermon that leaves the congregation with feelings of guilt for their sins against animals with no recourse to the Gospel.

So what would God’s grace look like for human and animal in this sermon?  For me, it came from a vegetarian friend who once gave me an option between giving up meat completely and throwing up my hands in frustrated despair at my own meat-aholism.  “Just try one day a week without eating meat,” she suggested.  A meat Sabbath!  A day of rest for my body from having to process protein.  A day to eat lower on the food chain.  A day when one animal will not have to die in order for me to live.

 

Wisdom spoke through my friend that day, I recalled, as I stood before the plastic-wrapped turkey on the metal prong.  I pulled my cart away, and turned back to the produce aisle.

---

[1] Thomas Berry, Mary Evelyn Tucker, and John Grim, The Christian Future and the Fate of Earth (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 2009), 46-7.

[2] Ibid., 48.

[3] Ibid., 48-9.

Sermon: Hauling in the Catch

By The Rev. Leah Schade

Sept. 8, 2013; RALLY SUNDAY

Texts:  Luke 5:1-11 

Sardines! Carp!  Comb-fish!  Biny-fish!  Every kind of fish!  Just look at at ‘em all!  Wriggling and slappin’ their tails, flippin’ and floppin’, a mass of glassy eyes and shiny scales!  Can you just imagine how much money we’ve just hauled in??  We hit the Sea-of-Galilee jack-pot!

The net is starting to tear!  My hands – burning, the net’s cuttin’ through my skin.  It’s so heavy!  I can’t haul this in by myself.  I need help! Okay, here they come.  Now, grab the other end!  I know, I can’t believe it either!  Hurry, the net’s about to break!

Look at all these fish!  Oh my God! I’ve never seen a catch like this!  Oh my G- . . .

Oh my God . . . I don’t know who you are.  But if you knew who I was . . . Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.  You just don’t know.  Well . . . actually, you probably do know.  Just . . . I don’t deserve this. This is too much.  I mean, thank you, of course, but . . . 

People?  You’re going to teach me how to catch people?  Like this?  You’re either crazy or you’re the Messiah.  Either way, you got my attention.  I’m following you.

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My sisters and brothers, we worship a crazy Messiah!  Because only a crazy Messiah would be crazy enough to climb into this boat on in out-of-the-way Kelly Township of Union County set back among the cornfields.  Only a crazy Messiah would be crazy enough to tell us to throw our net into the water.  Because, let’s face it, this boat’s been out for a long time and the net has come back pretty much empty.  You’ve probably felt like Peter on that boat by the Gennesaret Sea (another name for the Sea of Galilee) feeling just as frustrated as he did that early morning.

Let me give you a little background on what it was like to fish with these nets.   Our text from the Gospel of Luke tells us that the fishermen worked at night, and they used something called a trammel net, which was actually composed of three nets.  

A trammel net had two large mesh walls about five feet high with a finer net in between. The boat went out at night into deep waters where there are no rocks so that the nets would not be torn. One end of the net was let down into the sea, then the boat made a circle creating a sort of tub in the water. The net gathered in every kind of fish, as they were unable to escape through the three layers of netting.  Sometimes the boats worked in pairs so that the teams could drag in the net filled with fish, back to the shore. This would go on several times during the night until exhaustion set in or the sun came up, whichever came first.

But when Jesus came to this spot along the shore on this particular morning, he found two boats – not out at sea, but sitting there empty of men and fish.

Why are the boats empty?  Because, the text tells us, the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets.  Here it was, the middle of the morning.  They should have been out hauling in their fifth or sixth catch of fish.  But no.  The fishermen in these boats have been out all night long and caught nothing but nothing.  They’d given up.  Nothing left to do but wash the nets and let them out to dry in the sun.  Simon Peter, the owner of this particular boat, is tired, grumpy, and in no mood for this preacher who suddenly gets a notion to climb into his boat and use it as a pulpit.  All Peter wants to do is go home, grumble to his wife over breakfast about how God has cursed him once again with no fish, and then collapse in bed until the sun starts to set.  Peter, you see, worked the night shift.  But instead, here he is with his sore muscles and his aching back, rowing this preacher out so he can teach the people on the shore. 

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Dang crazy fool preacher, makin’ me row out here in the hot morning sun.  Won’t be makin’ any overtime for this, will I?  He’s just gonna talk and talk.  I’m just gonna catch me a nap.

Wait, what did he say? Why is he telling me, now, to throw my net into the water?  Lots of these rabbis have healing powers.  But, what – he thinks he has control over the fish in the sea?  He must be crazy.  Or the Messiah.  Either way, he’s got my attention.  What do I have to lose?  I’ll just throw my net in and see what happens . . . .

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People of United in Christ, are you ready to throw your net into the water today?  You’re going to need a trammel net, understand.  It’s going to have to be wide, you understand?  You’re going to have to cast it all around this neighborhood in a great big circle and let it sink deep.  You’re going to need three layers of net so that you can catch the fish. 

One layer of that net is service to this community.  Draw them to you, work with them, listen to them, get to know who they are.  We’re opening up our new senior center this week.  Get to know the friends and neighbors, go deep with them so that you can draw them in.  Today we’re painting pavilions at the park, serving the community.  In a couple months we’re going to start helping to serve meals at St. Andrews, getting out into the community to serve those in need.  It’s all about spreading that net.

Another layer of the net is sound biblical teaching.  This is the fine mesh in between.  We need to help people learn about this God and this crazy Messiah and the Spirit that sustains and enlivens us through this sacred text.  Every Sunday morning, 9 a.m., is a chance to sit down with the Good Book and learn what it means for our lives today.

The third layer is love – agape love.  Embrace people with the nets of your arms.  Reach out with the love of Jesus to touch them.  Doesn’t matter how broke, or broken, how sick or disgusting they are – touch them, and let Christ’s love heal them through you.  Fellowship with them, break communion bread with them, baptize them, laugh with them, cry with them, love God with them.  And teach them to fish with you.

Already we are to finding our nets bursting with the haul God is sending, swimming, our way!  Have you looked at the bulletin board across from the bathrooms where we have pictures of the visitors we’ve had just in the last 3 months?  We’ve doubled our goal for how many visitors come to this church just in one year. 

Have you heard how God blessed our Can the Gap Campaign?  I’ll never forget times that Elwood and Carol and other counters had bags full – nets, if you will – of money that people brought it.  We hauled in more than $8000 – more than we had ever expected or hoped for.  God’s abundance is just overflowing in this church. 

This means we’ve all got to help with the catch!  If just a few of us do the work of hauling, our hands are gonna get net-burns with the weight of the fish.  But I know there’s a whole fleet of boats out there ready to help haul in our catch.  Just look out at all you fishermen and women!  You know something – you’re crazy too!  We were crazy to think that this church could turn things around, that if we put in a prayer room, open up our fellowship hall for seniors, paint and refurbish our youth room, that anybody would notice, let alone come into our nets!  But you see we worship a crazy Messiah.  A Messiah who is crazy in love with you!  And you and you and me and you.

And that Messiah is telling us – just throw your net into the water.  Trust me.  What have you got to lose? 

And here we are tossing the net around us, a net of service and scripture and agape love, inviting our friends, our co-workers, our family members.  Just look at them all!  Wriggling and slappin’ their tails, flippin’ and floppin’, a mass of shining eyes and burning hearts!  Look at all these people!  I know, I can’t believe it either!  I’ve never seen a catch like this before!  Oh my God!  Oh my crazy, crucified and resurrected Lord!  Send the fish, Lord!  Our nets are cast!  Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!