| Note: No sermon is quite the same when you read it. You miss the inflections, the expression that you gain in the hearing. The words below are only a close approximation of the sermon, taken from handwritten notes. Nevertheless, the words (as best as can be deciphered!) are shared with you here. The Webmeister |
Third Sunday in Lent It's just an old hackberry tree. Nothing special about it. It grows on our property here at the church. But when a parishioner was cutting some of its branches of this lowly old tree, he found this: (show piece of wood with cross in it). It's a large branch, and when it was cut, the inside of the branch has this cruciform, or cross pattern. The parishioner, named Jim Taylor, brought it in to our office this past Friday, and loudly proclaimed "I've found Jesus!" It's interesting how God uses lowly old trees or shrubbery to get our attention. God does a similar thing with Moses, although it wasn't a hackberry tree that got his attention as it did Jim's. For Moses, it was rather some type of shrub or bush that seemed to burn without consuming itself. Imagine that. There are indeed plants or shrubs that may burn on occasion. There is a plant called false dittany that secretes a type of oil. And on a particularly hot day, it is not unusual for this plant to occasionally catch fire, although unlike the burning bush Moses encounters, the false dittany is consumed by the flames. To burn and not be consumed. Is that not a peculiar way to describe God? There is nothing in this world that can burn eternally without eventually consuming itself. Even the Sun, that giant star at the center of our solar system, will one day burn no longer. At some point around five billion years from now, scientists predict, our sun will no longer have the energy left to continue to burn. But God burns forever. God is the flame in the pillar of fire that led Moses and the Hebrew slaves in the wilderness at night. God is the fire that burns in the chariot of the great Hebrew prophet Elijah as he ascends to the sky. God is the flame in the sword of the angel who stands guard at the gate of Eden. As a child growing up, I, like so many other boys to their mother's dismay, had a keen interest in fire. Sparklers on the fourth of July. A cozy campfire underneath a starry sky. My brother appreciated fire as well, although he took his appreciation a few steps further than mine. My brother Randall introduced me to fireworks: black cats, roman candles, bottle rockets, and I have loved them ever since. Randall's interest in fire was the only thing I can think of that must have prompted him to write in giant letters on the driveway of our house the lovely phrase "Pyros Make the World Go Around." He used spray paint, which does not come off concrete. And his timing was impeccable: the next day our house was to go on the market. He spent the whole day scrubbing that concrete. God is a fire that is never consumed. God is a fire we draw near to on cold nights, a fire that provides light for us when we are lost in the dark. But while God's fire is never consumed, the same is not true for us. How many of us describe ourselves routinely as feeling "burnt out?" How many of us feel as if our lives are like a candle that burns from both ends, which eventually will be consumed? How do we go beyond feeling burned out? How do we go beyond feeling as if our life is like a piece of paper burning out of control, leaving nothing behind but charred remains? Maybe the answer lies within that old, lowly, Hackberry tree. The answer is here. The answer is in the cross. When the flame of our life has run out. When we have lost desire, when it seems we have lost control, when we've lost ourselves, we return to the cross, we return to God. And when we do that, the fire of our souls meets the inconsumable fire of God. And the two fires burn together. And when that happens, we are able, like God, to burn without being consumed. When we return to the cross, then we become like the bush that burns Moses encountered in the desert. We are able to burn with zeal and enthusiasm, while not feeling burnt out. And like the bush that burns Moses saw, we too, through our own burning, attract others so that they may hear the voice of God calling out to them. There is a fire that burns within everyone of us. It burns, but eventually it will consume itself, unless it receives strength from the refining fire of our creator. And when that happens, we will not feel burned out. We will burn and not be consumed, because the fire that burns within us not a fire that destroys, but a fire that gives life. The fire that does not consume itself, God's fire, calls out to us. It calls us to return here, to the cross. And it is in returning to the cross and in rest that we shall be saved. Amen. The Reverend James M. L. Grace March 11, 2007 *Past sermons may be found here. |
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