Below is the scripture and sermon I preached this Sunday in response to the tragedy this past weekend in CT.
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!
The Lord has taken away the judgments against you,
he has turned away your enemies.
The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall fear disaster no more.
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands grow weak.
The Lord, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness,
he will renew you in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing
as on a day of festival.
I will remove disaster from you,
so that you will not bear reproach for it.
I will deal with all your oppressors
at that time.
And I will save the lame
and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
and renown in all the earth.
At that time I will bring you home,
at the time when I gather you;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes, says the Lord.
At this time, in reflection of the recent heinous events it
seems odd that I am focusing on the passage from Zephaniah for Sunday. The
selection from Zephaniah, 3:14-20, speaks to hope, joy, about God’s actions in
helping the suffering, the poor, and the hurting. Preaching from such a passage
with such tragedy in our recent memory seems odd. Other passages from Zephaniah
seem more fitting for the national ethos and feelings on the wake of this
tragedy.
“A soiled, defiled,
oppressing city!
It has listened to no
voice: it has accepted no correction. It has not trusted in the Lord; it has
not drawn near to God.”
“The great day of the
Lord is near, near and hastening fast;
the sound of the day
of the Lord is bitter, the warrior cries aloud there.
That day will be a day
of wrath, a day of distress and anguish,
A day of ruin and
devastation, a day of darkness and gloom,
A day of clouds and
thick darkness,
A day of trumpet blast
and battle cry against the fortified cities and against the lofty battlements.”
When we consider the tragedy brought on the bucolic town of
Newton, Connecticut this past Friday such passages from Zephaniah seem more
fitting and apt. It is easier to read these passages and to draw the obvious
conclusion that we are being punished, or that we are reaping what we sow. It
is an easier answer to embrace; it is easier to see such suffering as
punishment. This is a time for people to get on their boxes and to start to
proclaim the “I told you so” with the prophet:
If we never took God out of schools or out of America
If we only had stronger gun laws
If only our families were not breaking apart
If only we took care of others more
If we as a nation would only support the right things at the
right times
The subtext to all of this “I told you so,” is that God is
punishing us. The subtext is that God had a part in this hatred and destruction
because we have strayed so far from the will of the Lord. It is easy to jump to
these passages of Zephaniah and others in the bible that speak of violence,
hatred, and death and say they speak to the violence of today. It is easy to
look to these passages and offer a message that gets people to rally around one
proscribed notion or another with the self-righteous indignation that we are
reaping what we sow.
Yet God did not put the gun in that young man’s hands. God
did not tell that young man to go and to kill all of those people, including
the children. God did not make this happen, God does not punish us in this way.
This is not the way of the God who creates with love; this is not the way of
the God who is love.
Yes, in many ways we are not right with the Lord, and when
we are not right with God we make decisions we regret. When people do not walk
with the Lord then we neglect each other, we neglect those who are hurting, and
horrible things like this happen. When people are not right with God then
hatred and violence reigns in our hearts and we fear others, we find a need to
protect ourselves, and we make violence a part of who we are. When people have
not given themselves to God then peace does not reign and we live with a
sin-filled sickness that can drive one to such horrible acts. It drives our
culture to such horrible acts. It drives us all to such horrible acts. God did
not make this happen. God did not want any of those children or adults to die.
We bring such horror and sadness on ourselves because we, not any institution,
but we, the people, individuals, have not fully embraced the way of the cross
of Christ.
I read those passages from Zephaniah and other parts of the
Bible, those passages that speak to punishment, violence, and the warning of
the coming of the Day of the Lord as a proclamation that a people who live
without the Lord will end up in that place of being distant from the Lord. I do
not read it as saying that a government must overtly embrace Christianity, but
that we, the people, must freely embrace the cross. To be distant from God is
to be in hell. This weekend we have seen a piece of what it means to be apart
from God. This weekend we have seen hell. Such passages of doom and gloom do
carry a warning and would be appropriate to preach in light of these recent
events.
Yet that is not the passage for this Sunday.
This Sunday I am not called to preach about the wayward
direction of society and the fear we are to have with the coming of the Day of
the Lord. I am not called to preach about the ills that we all carry, that we
all struggle with in our lives. I am not to preach about the hell on earth we
all encounter in small ways and on those awful days in ways large. Today, I am
called to preach about joy.
This is the Sunday of Joy in our liturgical calendar. This
is the Sunday when I have prepared to preach from a passage that speaks of
promise and hope. This is the Sunday when we are supposed to fully embrace the
goodness of the Christmas season with happiness and celebration. You may say
that it is not appropriate to preach on something so upbeat with such a tragedy
so close on our minds. You may say that this is one of the times that I should
let go of the liturgical calendar, that I should free myself from the confines
of tradition and suspend this time of Advent for the sake of those mourning and
surrounded with grief. It is too soon to talk of joy. It is too soon to look
for hope. Yet I believe that today we need this message more than ever.
This passage from Zephaniah was not written about something
that was happening, it was not describing a celebration in progress, but
something that is promised. It was not written because things were going well
for everyone and the Jews were all happy and doing fine. It was written to a
people who were living with tragedy every day, who faced destruction and
violence every day. It was written to a people who experienced the grief of
Newton Connecticut every day. It was written to a people who did not have any
sense of joy; it was written to a people who felt that they were forgotten by
the Lord.
This passage from Zephaniah was written to give the people a
sense of hope for joy; a promise of joy. This passage speaks about a new time,
a new place. It speaks about a restored Zion, about people being healed, about
a peace that in this time I have a difficulty comprehending. This passage
speaks about a joy in the Lord that is the Lord’s. This is not a joy that is
faked or forced or sold or bought, but a joy that is God’s and is a gift from
God. And if we ever needed to hear of that joy we sure do need it now.
Advent is meant to be a time of waiting and groaning because
we need to be redeemed, we need God’s joy. It is not a joy, a hope, or a peace
that we can bring. It is not a restoration that we can do or make happen. It is
nothing that we can create or make. All we can do is pray that God’s joy, God’s
creation, God’s kingdom will come and then we go along with the coming of this
kingdom or we get out of the way.
This is what makes Christmas so necessary, our need for
God’s joy in times of horror. We need to have Christ in the world promising us
of God’s coming kingdom. We need to see Christ born, God in the flesh, coming
to walk among us to show us and redeem us. We need to have Christ in the world
so that we can cling to that hope and that salvation. We need, we so desperately
need the joy of Christ in the world and in our lives.
Now I am supposed to tell you that it is coming. I am
supposed to leave you on a high note, on a place where we can go back to our
lives feeling like we have all gone through the appropriate amount of public
grief so we can return to our frivolous parties, decorations, and holiday
stress without guilt knowing that the lives of individuals and families have
been torn apart. I cannot do that. I cannot cleanly tell you about the joy of
God, the joy that we yearn for and need and let you leave without making some
kind of mess. This passage from Zephaniah makes a mess in the context of the
rest of the writings. This passage sticks out, makes a scene, and draws
attention. The rest of the writings speak of despair, woes, and punishment. In
that sorrow we find joy. It is a messy joy, a messy faith, a messy following of
God. Yet this is what it means to be a Christian. We make a mess. This is what
I believe we are called to do. To make a mess. Start by looking at those places
where we know we will find God. Not the sunset, nor the mountain top, nor in
any of the beauty of nature. Start by looking for God in those places where
people are living in hell.
God is and will be with the child who will have nightmares
about this for the rest of her life.
God is and will be with the parent living with the loss of a
child, asking why again and again and never finding a satisfying answer.
God is and will be with the young man who lost his mother
and his brother in one day and is trying to make sense of all of this mess.
God, the God who promises us joy is with those who are in the
greatest places of hurt and despair and that is where you will find the coming
of the kingdom of God. That is where you will find the beginning of the new
day, of the new life, of the new promise we find through Christ. That is where
you will find the seeds of the joy we read about in Zephaniah.
Go and sit with those in pain, sit and wait for God to lead
you, to comfort you, and to give you some kind of hope. Go and sit and stay
with that grief, let that grief wash over you and then I promise you on Christmas
Eve you will understand the joy of the Christ-child. When you are in that kind
of grief, when you are in that place where you hurt, where all hope, peace, and
joy is lost, when you sit in the hell of the world, then the power of Christ
will become clear to you.
For with Christ we are shown a way. With Christ we are shown
a light. With Christ we have life. Life without pain. Life without fear. Life
without hate. Life with joy.
Yes, we need to hear this passage today. We need to hear
about the joy that is promised by God because on this day we realize that we
need it more than ever. We need to hear about this joy because it reminds us
what it is we are looking for. As I said, it is coming. On days like today, with
such tragedy and suffering so fresh on our minds it is difficult to see that it
is coming; it is difficult to find any hope. But it is coming and we can either
be a part of it or get out of the way.
I want to be counted as one who was with the mourning. I
want to be counted as one who was with the sick. I want to be counted as one
who was with the hurting, the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, and the dying. I
want to be counted as one who, when the night was darkest, was walking, was
marching with the Lord. And in that pain and hurt and mess I will sing. I will
sing the Lord’s song, bringing the mess to the front. I will sing with tears in
my eyes. I will sing with the pain in my heart. I will sing because we need God’s
hope, we need God’s peace, and we need God’s joy. Marching, singing, I want to
be counted as one with the Lord.
I am marching in the
light of God…
We are marching in the
light of God…
AMEN
