The Rev. Neale L. Miller

Sermon for March 4, 2007

Texts: Genesis 15:1-12,17-18/Luke 13:31-35

Sermon title: “Housekeeping”

              Because the project ran afoul almost immediately you and I are left in the dark regarding what God’s construction project might have eventually looked like.  God had a plan for his creation, that we know.  In six days of creation God very deliberately worked his plan, the completed project earning the commendation, “very good.”

              The vast heavens, the earth teaming with life, the seas abounding with life, and then, the first chapter of Genesis tells us, God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; [and God said] “let us give humankind responsibility, dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”

              You will agree with me that God vested great responsibility in this humankind he created, made in God’s own image.  Unfortunately, our exercise of dominion has been too self-serving and narrowly focused to be effective and beneficial.  Something went wrong, for the disposition to be self-serving and narrowly focused was not part of humankind’s original equipment, if, that is, Genesis’ rendering of creation is to be given credence. 

              There is no hint in Genesis that God envisioned anything less than equilibrium and symmetry between humankind and the rest of creation.  Paradise is what God had in mind, but God’s project was taken out of God’s hands, for the temptation to “be like God, knowing good and evil,” proved irresistible to our ancient ancestors. 

              Humankind was introduced to a foreign substance. Origins of that substance continue to baffle everyone who takes the biblical rendering of creation seriously. This substance, sin, was imported in, but we don’t know who imported it, or where the importer got his power.

              Sin compromised God’s project so thoroughly that the human mind cannot begin to envision what the world might have looked like in its absence. Sin plays big in those first chapters of Genesis. Not a pretty picture.  Cain murders his brother Abel. Wickedness becomes so prevalent on earth that God is made to regret installing humankind on earth at all.  Wickedness became so prevalent that God resolved to destroy humanity off the face of the earth, sparing just one family, whose patriarch was Noah. 

           A great flood inundated the earth--you know the story---Noah and his band, and representatives of each of the families of birds, animals, and plant life, riding the deluge out in the ark. Chapter two of creation would soon begin, God charging Noah and his sons, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth.” This Noah and his family would eventually do, but they would do it with God’s assurance that God would never again send a flood to destroy the earth.

              God established this promise in the form of a covenant, a vow to which God would for all time hold himself accountable.  Friends, it was a good thing that God was so bound, for almost immediately sin reared its head again. The descendents of Noah seriously failed in the righteousness department.

              God may have been tempted to renounce the covenant he had made with Noah for cause, after all a covenant is a two party arrangement. The failure of the people to abide by the covenant’s terms could not be ignored.

              Instead of voiding the covenant, however, God chose to make another one, and that is where our morning’s first lesson comes in. God covenanted with Abram, declaring that Abram, later Abraham, would be the father of a vast nation, that nation charged to faithfully represent God to the rest of the world. God, good to his word, saw to it that the nation, the house, that Abraham established was vast in dimension.  But it was a house that, more often than not, could be found in disarray, one misadventure after another, until God’s prophesy to Abram was ultimately realized.  The people of God were made aliens in another land; they were made aliens in the house of the Egypt’s pharaoh.       

              The people of Israel lived in this alien state until it became intolerable, a ruler of Egypt, having concluded that the foreigners might eventually destabilize his nation, put the clamps on Israel real hard. The moans of the people reached the ear of God, and God, remembering the covenant, selected one, Moses, to extricate the people.  This he was able to do, only the deed was accomplished with precious little cooperation from the stubborn, backbiting people, God through Moses, was attempting to rescue. For the better part of forty years they complained, made idols, and otherwise acted out.   

              Moses did the best he could, but the house of Israel was so disorderly that that handpicked messenger of God, failed to deliver his people to the Promised Land. Though his successor, Joshua, was able to accomplish the deed, he met with the same kind of resistance as Moses.  The people wouldn’t listen. 

              What most fascinated the people were the customs of the people among whom they lived. Explicitly ordered to stay clear of foreign entanglements, the people sought nothing quite so much as to blend in with the nations surrounding them.  To this God was entirely opposed.  Israel was God’s house and God wasn’t going to surrender property rights. Yet Israel was nothing if not persistent.

              Wouldn’t her status in the eyes of the surrounding nations be enhanced if she had a king like all the rest of them?  God through his prophets declared that he was the sole occupant of the throne, and he would not be surrendering it.  But, despite warning them through his prophets that they were making a bad decision, God finally relented. King Saul, a formidable man, regal in bearing, managed the household quite effectively at first, but then the wheels came off.  Arose, however, the fair-haired David under whom Israel lived some of her best days.

              David, though succumbing to human weakness like the rest of us, was able to put Israel’s house in order.  He was able to consolidate the various tribes of Israel into one monarchy with a capital city, Jerusalem, which we will hear about later. But, wait, there was more. With David leading the parade, and great accompanying fanfare, Israel turned out to watch one of the most significant events in her history.  A procession led the Ark of the Covenant, containing the sacred tablets of the law and other artifacts, into David’s city.  This was a very big deal, for by virtue of its presence there, the Ark confirmed that God was also present, a reality, Solomon, David’s son, would commemorate with a great, opulent temple.    

              To this day David remains the most celebrated keeper of God’s house in all of Israel’s history, yet David, or no David, the habit of obedience to God never really took. Unresolved, the obedience problem plagued the house of God, aka the house of Israel, from generation to generation.

              But how to end the plague, that was the question God has been asking since our ancient ancestors succumbed to the serpent’s seduction. The answer would come to us in the form of the baby born in the Bethlehem manger. The first letter of John summarizes the blessing this way, “God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.” Put slightly differently, God would have the world establish its house through him.

              Housekeeping proved no less difficult for those with whom Jesus had contact, then those the prophets before him engaged. Many wouldn’t listen to Jesus. Forced to acknowledge that reality throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus responded through anger and frustration but also through lament.

              It is the latter that we experience in our second lesson this morning.  The scene opens with a warning delivered by the Pharisees, a devout group of Jewish laypersons with whom Jesus had an on again off again relationship. 

              The Pharisees warn Jesus that Herod, tetrarch of Galilee, is out to kill him.  But Jesus ignores that warning, instead entering the prediction that he, like the prophets before him, would die in Jerusalem, the very city to which David lent his prestige. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills its prophets and stones those who are sent to it. How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!  See, your house is left to you.”

              It is interesting that Jerusalem should come in for such accusation for if we follow the chronology Luke lays out for us; Jesus had yet to even visit the city. It is safe to say; however, that Jerusalem is a symbol for every place Jesus met rejection.

              “How often have I desired to gather your children, Jerusalem, but the house over which your disobediently preside is closed to me.”  Resigned, Jesus could only concede the reality, and let events take their course.  “Your house is left to you.”

              In Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem we hear God’s lament for all the rejection God has suffered at human hands, at our hands. “Your house is left to you.” You are left to your own devises. Not the words we want to hear, but an important, lifesaving reminder for the people of God to get our disorderly house in order.

              Keepers of the house, that’s who we are.  Cast in slightly different language we are stewards, delegated by the master of the house to keep the place looking good until he comes home. Even as Lent challenges us to accept responsibility for the individual sins that keep us estranged from God, we who collectively form the church of Jesus Christ universal , are challenged to be accountable for our housekeeping, the maintenance of Christ’s house here on earth.

             We at Lakeview, of course, serve within more closely defined parameters, challenged to constantly assess and reassess our faithfulness to the mission that falls to us as keepers of this house.

             Are we being faithful?  For what sins are we liable?  What part of Jesus’ message have we chosen to ignore?  Would Christ feel welcome here? These are questions, friends, we cannot ignore.

“Your house is left to you.” “You are on your own.” Jesus issued a stern indictment on those souls in Jerusalem who ignored his teaching.  Sobering to think how our actions as a church may well mirror those Christ condemned.

            The prominent agenda that we have embraced as a church, to bring this facility back to what it was does not excuse us from the housekeeping responsibilities that come with baptism in Christ. The restored building cannot be a principal work; discipleship and outreach alone qualify as such.

           The friends from Barre, Vermont we are privileged to host today have good insight to share on what the principle work of ministry should be. Their generosity in sharing their time, talents, and money to help our church and city rebuild demonstrates better than words ever could what the principle work of ministry happens to be. 

            The church’s vocation is housekeeping, but not principally of this house of brick and mortar, the housekeeping to which God in Christ points us is not merely the restoration of a church, a neighborhood, and city, but the restoration of humankind itself. An awesome mission indeed, but then we serve an awesome Lord, source of inexhaustible grace.  We have it within us to be the people, the housekeepers; God would have us to be.  

PRAYER

              Father of light, into a new day we have come, a special day set apart from the rest, a Sabbath, a time to gather as the church to celebrate the holy journey on which we have embarked.  A part of that great assembly, the universal Church, we have gathered, joining brothers from north and a south, and east and west, baptized into a tradition and story that recount your mighty works.  To listen and learn we have come, to be equipped to faithfully serve, O God, our purpose for gathering, but also our joy. Bless, O God, this people, that in our common life and work we may show forth your glory.

              O Christ, head of the church, who willingly gave your life to secure our freedom, we freely acknowledge that we, like those who have gone before us, have been quick to express our love for you in word, but slow to fortify our words with deeds.  Forgive the many ways our actions deny you, called to your ambassadors, we have adopted the world’s values, the world’s attractions co-opting our time and energy, even as you bid us to follow you.  Called to repent of our ways, O Lord, may your voice break through the clamor of the competing voices of our culture, and may the counsel you offer bring order to our disordered lives.

              Holy Spirit, you descended upon Jesus in the form of a dove. Though your presence in our lives has not been announced in such dramatic ways, your presence is no less real, and no less abiding.  Wheresoever we may go, you are with us.  A reality that many of have yet to grasp, preserve in us an openness to your divine work, a readiness to believe even when hard evidence for belief is lacking. The barriers to faith can be imposing, but we know, O Spirit, that the truth you announce is more imposing still.

              Holy Trinity, whose love for humankind is expressed, is so many ways, anger and wrath continue to plague us, wars and rumors of wars abound. In your mercy hear the cries of those victimized by anger and wrath, those whose daily lives are consumed by fear and sorrow.  Destitute, each day presenting new challenges for survival, life for many has been reduced to little more than a all-consuming quest to live another day.  May the madness that robs humanity of humanity stop, O Lord, people of conscience rallying to insist that the madness end.

              O God, abide with those who gather here beset, even overwhelmed, by personal conflict and turmoil.  May the wounded be healed, the sick given assurance of your nearness, the tempted given strength to fend off temptation.  May the discouraged who feel they have been left out, that you have not called or spoken to them, be reassured that they are your beloved, that they have not been forgotten.

              In gratitude for the gifts you have bestowed upon us through our brothers and sisters in faith, we welcome our friends from Barre, Vt. once again. Committed to helping us rebuild our city, they have generously allocated time and money to be with us. May they be enriched by the experiences they will have here, even as they enrich us by their presence here.   

           Privileged to gather at your table once again, endow us with the gift of discernment, O Lord, to experience your presence with us in the elements of bread and juice.  May our shared experience of grace at the table, become in our hands a gift we are willing to share with the community and world beyond our doors.

              United in a common confession of faith with brothers and sisters across the church we offer our prayers, in Jesus’ name.