Rescue, Relief, Reunion, Rest

We need a big dose of the persistence of those semi-nomadic ancestors in the faith from the book of Genesis, who heard the promise and held on despite the troubles, despite the years.

Abraham had been promised (1) land, (2) descendants, and (3) becoming a blessing to the nations.

By the end of his century of living, how had things moved along toward fulfillment?

--The only land he owned was a field with a cave in it which he used to bury Sarah his wife.

--The only descendent is his son Isaac.

--He has a hard time seeing how he is a blessing to anyone outside of his family.

And in our reading today we have moved on to the next generation, to Isaac.

He is moving around in southern Israel not far from what we would call today the Gaza strip.

A major problem has always been the water supply; who controls the wells.

So a well is dug, but jealous neighbors start an argument over it.

Isaac has to wade into the middle of the fight and get his people out of there.

Isaac's herders move on.

They re-dig another of Abraham's old wells but there is contention over that one and another fight,so they move again.

And so it goes.

Until at last they get to the place they call Rehoboth, meaning “ broad places”, where they say,

“Now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.”

They found a place to live and to thrive.

The Lord renewed to Isaac the promise he had made earlier to Abraham.

“Yes, it passes to you, Isaac!”

And it will be fulfilled, in God's good time, not on Isaac's schedule.

God made a promise to Chuck long years ago, to hold onto him forever,

to make him a member of the family of Jesus,

to give him citizenship in the country with heavenly borders,

and to show him how he could be a blessing to others around him.

Sometimes those blessings are easier to see than at other times.

In these past few months, Chuck has had a very hard time remembering what they might be.

He could look back to those long ago days of being a blessing to the soldiers in his exploits and rescues of the WWII landings.

And he certainly could recount being blessed with the gift of loving wife and family.

But the conversation almost immediately would turn to “why am I still here?” which is another way of saying that I don't see how I am either blessed or a blessing to others now.

But some time back, there was a breakthrough.

Chuck got his box of paints out, and started to create a scene, bits that he remembered from here and there that he was pulling together into a new composition.

It was his growling-bear way of acknowledging that “Yes, I am blessed, even if I am in a less than ideal situation, having moved once, then twice, and not being in the place I want to call 'home.'”

When he was painting, he gave up his usual refrain of “I want God to take me right now.”

It didn't matter that the painting wasn't the best he had ever done; it was enough to remind him that he was blessed in many ways, and was still called to be a blessing to others around him.

It was wonderful to see it taking place, even if for only a little while.

We see how this mood is established in the Psalm that we read together a few moments ago.

Did you pick out the key-words?

Trust...my refuge under your wings

his faithfulness is a shield

his angels shall keep you

I will protect...deliver....answer...rescue

...satisfy...show him my salvation.

And bring him to honor.

And then the Psalm concludes:

With long life will I satisfy him,

and show him my salvation.

Will God keep his promises?

Yes, but on his schedule, not ours.

So what should our prayers be?

Prayers that are basically “Hurry up, God” would seem to be impertinent.

Remember that God tells Job, “Who do you think you are, buddy?” for that kind of a prayer.

Somehow our prayers need to align us with the will of the Father, to put us into congruence with his intentions.

That is what Paul is getting at is the verse we heard from Romans.

We don't know how to pray as we ought, but the “Spirit helps us with sighs too deep for words”, Paul says.

I trust that was what was finally happening with Chuck.

And so that is yet another reason for these special months since Ruth died,

another answer to the question of “why am I still here?”

Perhaps you have taken note of the icon that we have in front of us today, and realize that it refers to the Gospel reading today.

Jesus is serenely asleep in boat, and the disciples are frantically pleading with him to do something about the storm.

Will Jesus wake up in time?

Will they all drown?

But he does awaken and gives the word, “Peace, be still!” and it is so.

Deep water and storm has always been a symbol for trouble in life.

So when we sing the hymn in a few moments Eternal Father, Strong to Save, we don't have to think that it is only about someone else, those who are literally at sea.

Let's give it an even wider application as well, to include everyone who is in peril on a sea of sadness or despair.

Instead of flood waters as we had last fall, this year we hear of those areas with billows of ash and ruin from fires.

We can pile up the images of tragedies and troubles from around the world, around the nation

and around our own lives,

and pray that the Spirit

bid this angry tumult cease,

and give for wild confusion, peace.

[LBW467.3]

When, O Lord, when?

When will you give the word “Peace, be still” for the storms and deep water in our lives?

Just a bit happens now in the Word and the Sacrament of Holy Communion, just enough to keep us on course and moving in your direction, Lord.

But in your good time, O Lord, we know that you will fulfill completely all those promises you made to Chuck and Ruth and to all those who have been baptized into your name.

It will be rescue for the endangered

It will be relief for the beleaguered.

It will be reunion for those long separated.

It will be rest for the weary.

It will be right.

Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.