Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 29 or Canticle 2 or 13
Romans 8:12-17
John 3:1-17
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen
The morning after my ordination in March I preached here at St. Andrew’s. That Sunday, John 3:16 , was a part of the Gospel reading, as it was today. Shortly after I returned to Sewanee, I received an e-mail from Bill Weeks saying he was reading ahead and noticed that the lessons for my first official Sunday here were surprising similar. I had no doubt he was right – but I did marvel that he was reading so far ahead. I’m the type that has been found in the checkout line on Christmas Eve, so it never occurred to me that someone would be reading the June lectionary in March!
In my senior preaching class, we were required to preach three sermons in our preaching group. One choice was to preach a “do over” – a rewrite of one of the first two sermons, taking into account the feedback we had received. So when I did get around to reading today’s lessons, I couldn’t help but wonder it was a divine opportunity to preach a “do over.” Was God saying to me, ” okay Jim, try again – maybe this time you’ll get it right.”
But, after resting with the lessons for some time, I saw that, though similar, today’s lessons are different. The OT testament reading for today is not from Numbers, but from Isaiah – and it speaks of Isaiah’s call to be a prophet of God. Isaiah tells us that he saw God upon his throne. It was widely known then, that if you saw God, you died. In Exodus, the people were warned that if they look upon the Lord, they will perish. So naturally, when Isaiah sees the Lord sitting on his throne he is frightened and says, “Woe to me.” Then, he confesses his sinful nature, “I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips.” A seraph takes a hot coal from the altar and touches it to Isaiah’s lips and says, “your guilt has departed and your sin has been blotted out.” Isaiah’s burdens are lifted, he is a new man. Then the Lord says, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Isaiah replied, “Here am I, send me !” Thus, Isaiah is called by God to be a prophet. It is an experience that, with a little imagination, we can relate to. I’d be surprised if there is anyone here who has not burned your tongue drinking hot chocolate or coffee, or burned the roof of your mouth eating pizza fresh from the oven – I have. But I cannot imagine the pain of having a hot coal touched to my lips. The image of seeing God, then having that done to me is not one that I care to think about – but then neither are those experiences that most of us have had that brought us closer to God.
The most intense pain is often emotional and spiritual – not physical.
A young business man learns of the death of his grandfather. A co-worker, who he views as competition, looks him in the eyes and says with all sincerity, “I am so sorry.” At that moment, the two are connected at the core of their humanity, and the young business man knows he is not alone.
Later, the young man is on a plane going home for his grandfather’s funeral. He is staring out the window, when the stranger next to him strikes up a conversation. The stranger upon learning of the death of his grandfather, listens intently as the young man talks about how much he had looked up to his grandfather – how much fun he had fishing with him and listening to his stories. His grandfather had taught him about life and what was important. And, his grandfather had listened to him – really listened. When he had been cut from the team, his grandfather sat with him. When his girlfriend dumped him, his grandfather sat with him. When he received a rejection letter from his first choice of colleges, his grandfather sat with him. As he talked of grandfather, the stranger sat with him. The pain of these memories, knowing that his grandfather was dead, was almost unbearable. Yet, afterward, he felt better, relieved. His burden seemed lighter.
As the young man drove off in his rental car he reflected on his conversation with the man on the plane. He remembered his co-worker. Both had shared in his grief, both had listened – just as his grandfather had listened to him.
That night at his parent’s home, he noticed his nephew sitting in a room by himself staring out into space. The man’s brother and sister were in the kitchen talking, no one had noticed the little boy with the tear in his eye. This young man walked into the room and sat with his nephew. After a few minutes, the boy said, “I miss grandpa,” then the boy began telling the man how his great grandfather used to listen to him when no one else would. The young man sat and listened. A tear ran down his check as the boy cried and talked of his great grandfather. Afterwards, the little boy felt better – his burden seemed lighter.
Grief can be so much more painful than burning our lips with a hot coal that many people try to hold their grief inside – they don’t share it. Grief and sin have this in common; both are intensely painful. And people are often reluctant to share these experiences with others. Our burdens take on many forms, for the young man and his nephew it was grief – for Isaiah it was sin. If we, like Isaiah, empty our hearts before God, the Lord will lift our burdens so that we might answer God’s call to service.
Both the Epistle and Gospel readings might serve to only confuse this message. It is easy to understand how many Christians have used these passages to explain the world in terms of the human and the divine as if the two are completely separate. In the epistle, Paul writes to the Romans – “if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Many have associated the flesh with sin and the Spirit with salvation. In the gospel reading, Jesus says to Nicodemus, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the
Yet, in the end of today’s Gospel reading, we hear that God sent his Son into the world to save it. God sent his son in the flesh, not in the Spirit, so that we might have life. The bible is full of such paradoxes. The flesh must die by the Spirit if we are to experience life – yet, it is God in the flesh, Christ, who will save us from death.
What are we to do with this? One of the joys of being Episcopalian is that we can simply say, “yes that’s right.” We don’t have to solve this riddle; we can live in the mystery of faith. We can spend time reflecting on this apparent contradiction, knowing that the Spirit will bring life to us as we celebrate the incarnation of God in Christ. We can experience Christ’s physical presence as the Holy Spirit gives us strength to face our burdens. We need only to focus our lives on God to see that Christ is sitting with us, listening. Then, after our burdens have been lifted and our sin blotted out, we will be able to answer God’s call and sit quietly with a person who is grieving and listen as they tell their story. Then we will share in each other’s humanity and there will be the Spirit with us – giving us life, and the strength to carry on.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
