Sermon
Many years ago I heard a sermon titled, “You can run, but you can't hide!” I remember thinking, “That could be the title of all sermons?” The terror-theology of some Christian communities tells us that we should be good all the time because no matter what, God will see and know and come find us! Much like the second verse of today's reading, “The word of God…divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow, and is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.” I feel like there could be an evil laugh after that, “mwaaaahhhaaaahaaahaaha.”
We know that lines like this are often taken out of context. Not just out of context from the entire book, this case the letter to the Hebrews, but out of context of the entire message of the New Testament. Fear based motivation might help some, but in the end, it is not life-sustaining. Scary lines like this remind me though, that it is God who will judge, and this is key – not me.
The author of this letter is writing to new Jesus followers who have been steeped in the culture and traditions of all of the Israelites. They would know stories from the Old Testament that tell of a vengeful and angry God. Perhaps talking to them about God, it was most useful to start where they were. Jesus is often described using words and stories about what Jesus is not. In this case we read, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses.” And then after saying what Jesus is not, we have the emphasis on what Jesus is – we have a high priest who in every respect has been tested as we are.”
Another possible title for every Christian sermon could be, “It's not what you expect.” Here in this letter, as in other places, the author begins by naming something the listeners might expect from a religious authority and then explains why following Jesus is different. Here is why following this guy is not what you expect. Last week we read from the first part of this letter, describing how following Jesus didn't distance one from God, but rather brought us closer to God. Because Jesus is the “exact imprint of God's very being.” Today we understand that Jesus isn't a far away God who doesn't understand us or know us, but rather can sympathize with all of our weaknesses. Jesus is the Son of God – not only does Jesus understand us, but brings us into a relationship much like a parent and their child. Knowing this helps us approach God with our weaknesses without fear, without saying “you don't understand what it's like.” Because Jesus does understand. Jesus is the word of God that is sharp and sees and knows our intentions. Because in a parent child relationship, Jesus is both the parent and the child.
“You can run, but you can't hide” was not actually a sermon reminding us to be good or else. There was no fantasy involved, like Santa knowing if we've been bad or good and bringing us coal. This was actually the sermon at a service where someone who was not an infant was going to be baptized. We may run from God, from religion, from church etc. but you can't hide from God and God's love, and Jesus' knowledge of us, and God's desire for us to share in the love and grace God has to give. This was not a sermon of a fantasy story designed to capture us as we flee from a vengeful God. This was a sermon of a true story of a God whose goodness and mercy shall follow us all of our days. And not just follow, but pursue and chase down, not hang back at a comfortable distance.
This congregation has been through three memorial services in three weeks. Ellen Kross, Roberta's dear sister's memorial gathering in the east bay, and the memorial for Freda yesterday. At the two services that I attended what I felt more than anything were the sparks of friendship and relationships that were in the room. If those sparks were visible, it would have been electric. I believe that Ellen knew, and Freda knew, through their faith and beliefs and experiences of life that while it takes living breathing people to do God's work, it all starts and flows from that initial pursuit by God to hold us completely, use us completely, love us completely, and lead us and guide us into fruitful lives. It's the experiences of people who have put in the time in life, people of age, who remind us what faithful living is about. It's about persistence, creativity, love, imagination, and energy, at the same time that it's about making lists, cooking meals, putting up decorations, paying the bills, fixing the internet, changing the wallpaper in the women's bathroom, welcoming children, welcoming outsiders, studying, making time for play, making music; it's about crying and laughing, about rupture and repair, it's about turning grudges into lessons, about understanding, about seeking to fix not staying inside pain.
When our scripture today says to us, “Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” We are reminded that prayer and interaction with God is not a fearful thing. It is approaching the throne of grace, not approaching the wall of division where we need to prove ourselves worthy. How? We should approach this throne of grace with boldness. There is no need – we are no longer approaching a High Priest who will speak to God instead of us, and judge us, and be so far from our own experiences of life. We can be bold, not fearful, because Jesus has suffered in every way that we have. Jesus made friends and lost friends, he experienced loss and grief of death, he experiences isolation, shame, taunting, blame, misunderstanding, frustration, anger.
And here's the most important thing, why? We should approach the throne of grace so that we may receive mercy and find grace – not for the best seat in the house, for more money, for more recognition, for more friends, for the best meal, the greatest number of accolades, to be on the cover of Time – but to help in time of need.
Approaching God through the love of Christ is something we do for ourselves because when we are better, we are better on behalf of others. We give more, help more, understand better, are more gracious and more loving. When we are on the receiving end of help from others, and we all are, we respond in kind when it is our turn to give. There are some lives that are constantly on the receiving end of help from others – most because it is a life long set of needs, from illness or poverty, or systemic barriers to a better life. But for some, they stay on the receiving end of help from others just because they're used to it, and forgot that they too might be missing opportunities to give.
This is a difficult concept sometimes. Every parent, everyone with siblings, everyone who has any relationship actually knows what it is like to try not to enable, to try not to reinforce helplessness, to try not to encourage dependence – and yet at the same time provide constant love and support.
I used to babysit for three small children in a family. The youngest guy, probably about 4, slept in the bottom bunk of a bunkbed, with his older brother on the top bunk. The oldest, their 7 year old sister slept in another room. This littlest guy, would. Not. Go. To. Bed. He did everything, I'm not tired, I'm thirsty, I can't sleep, and then just screaming! I would try letting him get up and have some one-on-one time, and then try bed again. I tried ignoring him. I tried being firm. None of my oh-so-smart phrases like “what is the need behind the want” were of any use. I felt more and more incompetent as a person every time. When I talked to his mom about it she always said “Love him more.” What does that even mean? So I should let him get up and play? I should let him get up, but rest quietly? I should give him what he wants? Aren't I enabling, encouraging him, not allowing his siblings to get to sleep? He turned out fine in spite of me and is attending college in London now.
His mom knew that love would always win. Love meant don't give up. Love meant stay engaged. And it didn't mean let him get away with stuff. Like a good parent, Jesus loves us more. Jesus loves us more than our worst day; more than our worst behavior; more than our awful attitudes. Love more, isn't about getting a four-year-old to go to bed. When Jesus loves us more, we are then able to love more.
And that always leads to hope.
We approach the throne of grace, approach God not only with thanksgiving, but when we are in pain, when we are hurt, when we are confused, when we are stuck. That's when God loves us more. That's where we can then find hope. I heard a powerful song yesterday called “Hope comes from the place where the hurt comes.”1 I'll send you the link if you're interested. Or you can check out the sermon on the website and click on the link shown in the footnotes.
No matter how good our lives our, we all still worry and we all have needs. Our faith tells us that no matter how much we suffer, God knows us and hears us and will provide our hope. No matter our need, God will always provide mercy and grace.
Amen.
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