March 22, 2020

4 Lent

1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5: 8-14; John 9:1-41

 The Rev. James M.L. Grace




In the Name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  AMEN.

 

            About three weeks ago I reported for my first volunteer shift for the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.  There was some conversation on our committee about a virus making headway into the United States, and someone on the committee asked if they thought it would have any impact on the Rodeo attendance.  Seven days later, the announcement came that the Rodeo was shutting down early for the first time since it started in 1931.  A month ago, I never would have predicted this – where we are now. 

            Over the past week, I have reached out and talked to many of you. I haven’t made all my phone calls yet (I’m handling A-M of the phone directory, and am currently on “F”).  It has been so wonderful to hear your voice.  To share with you in your joy, your struggle, your hope, your uncertainty, but also your humor.  You have shared painful truths, you have shared your financial anxiety with me.  I get it.  I really do.  Because I share all of that with you.  But you also are sharing your humor, and what a gift that is! One of you shared with me that your grandson, upon learning that church was closed for the foreseeable future, said to his mother “Mom!  How will we get Jesus back?” 

            Look, we have find reasons to laugh, even in uncertain times like this.  We all feel scared, we all feel lost.  I spoke with a colleague of mine, a priest in a different city this week, and he asked “should I be happy now?  I don’t even know what to feel.”  I don’t how I should feel, either. As my wife and I keep saying to each other, we are in uncharted territory.  It’s new for all of us. 

            We see empty stadiums, empty restaurants, juxtaposed with images of hospitals crammed with people in Italy and in other parts of the world.  The world seems less familiar – it seems more strange – it appears more scary, at least to me.  What do we do? 

            I believe we have an answer, and it comes to us in something called the BIBLE – which stands for “Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.”  I didn’t make that up.  It’s the 23rd psalm.  What a masterpiece.  What a gift to read that psalm today.  I want to read it again. 

            “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters.  He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his names sake.Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.  Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.  Thou preparist a table before me in the presence of mine enemies, thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

            With all the uncertainty and ambiguity in the world, I daily get on my knees and ask the Lord to lead me and to guide me in all that I do.  I am just a sheep who chooses to surrender my need for control,  my need to explain, my need to understand.  I am just one sheep in much larger herd, doing my best to listen to the shepherd’s voice.  Christ is my shepherd.  I surrender my life, to follow him. 

            I am choosing to accept and surrender to God’s plan.  Notice I did not say the word “understand.”  I don’t understand God’s plan, I can’t explain it.  But I trust it.  I trust God now more than ever with the chaos going around us. I am able to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fearing no evil because I know my shepherd is with me.  We are going to get through this.  God is with us and God will see us through it. 

            A pandemic is not the end of the world.  Suffering is not the end of the world.  Author and priest Henri Nouwen writes these words on suffering, which I share with you today because they mean something to me, and I hope they mean something to you:

“  I really want to encourage you not to despair, not to lose faith, not to let go of God in your life, but stand in your suffering as a person who believes that she is deeply loved by God. When you look inside yourself, you might sometimes be overwhelmed by all the brokenness and confusion, but when you look outside toward him who died on the cross for you, you might suddenly realize that your brokenness has been lived through for you long before you touched it yourself.

 

Suffering is a period in your life in which true faith can emerge, a naked faith, a faith that comes to life in the midst of great pain. The grain, indeed, has to die in order to bear fruit and when you dare to stand in your suffering, your life will bear fruit in ways that are far beyond your own predications or understanding. . . .”

 

Believe that good will come from this, and it will.  Centuries ago, when the Great Plague hit London, Isaac Newton, then in his 20s, practiced a form of “self quarantine” at his home.  Away from college, Newton thrived.  He later called his year away from his professors annus mirabilis the “year of wonders.”  He did a lot during his time at home from school because of the plague.  He wrote papers that would later become early calculus, and he also discovered the principle of gravity.  Look for the good and hold onto it.  The Lord is OUR shepherd, he will watch over us, in all things and through all times.  AMEN.