In Festal Gathering

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Ordinary 21C

Jerusalem Baptist Church (Emmerton), Warsaw VA

Hebrews 12:18-29

¹⁸You have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, ¹⁹and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them. ²⁰(For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even an animal touches the mountain, it shall be stoned to death.” ²¹Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.”) ²²But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, ²³and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, ²⁴and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. ²⁵See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking; for if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven! ²⁶At that time his voice shook the earth; but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.” ²⁷This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of what is shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain. ²⁸Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; ²⁹for indeed our God is a consuming fire.

I wish, for the sake of an opening statement, that I could stand here and tell you that my earliest memory, my earliest conceptualization of God was of a wrathful, vengeful, jealous God.  I can’t.  Insofar as I connected the idea that was forming in my head about who God was with what I was experiencing in and among church people on any given Sunday or Thursday night, I heard and saw too much about the Love of God expressed that it was never that.  Having said that, in all honesty, neither can I stand here and tell you that my earliest conceptualization of God was of a deeply caring, loving, embracing God.  I can’t do that either.  God didn’t become the “Holy and wholly other” that I found later in life until … well … later in life. 

How we approach God, how we interact with God, and how we express God’s action in our lives has SO MUCH to do with how we initially encountered God. 

We can remember from earliest childhood the stories from our primary Sunday School class:  about Adam and Eve, about Noah and the Ark, about Moses and the Israelites crossing the sea on dry land.  What stands out in each of these stories to you in your memory – from when you first heard them? 

With Adam and Eve, is it God’s statement that “it was good” at the end of each ‘day’, or is it God’s banishing Adam and Eve from the Garden?

With Noah and the Ark, is it the fact that God made provision for Noah and his family, or is it that everyone else drowned?

With Moses and the Israelites crossing the sea on dry land, is it the safety, food and security God provided for the people of Israel while they wandered in the desert, or is it the plagues that were visited on the people of Egypt and their Pharaoh before the Israelites even left?  Or maybe it is that God allowed that initial generation of Israelites – including Moses – to die off as they wandered through the desert for all those forty years instead of letting them actually experience the Promised Land, as punishment for their unfaithfulness?       

We are, each of us, on our own journey – our own pilgrimage when we enter into relationship with God.  It may be that we first began our journey with just a brief glimpse of who God was … and it was sandwiched between all the other stuff that popular culture and myth and yes, even the church, has painted for us as a picture of God, but somewhere in the midst of all that, something caught our attention and drew us in. 

The writer to the Hebrews is underscoring that something for us this morning.  What he is contrasting in this passage is two common images that are part of the Jewish identity.  The contrast is between Mt. Sinai and Mt. Zion – the NEW Jerusalem.  At Mt. Sinai, the Hebrew people were given the law, and God DID speak to them – through Moses.  And what do we have as an image of Mt. Sinai?  Clouds, rolling thunder, darkness, lightning … not exactly a welcoming vision, is it? 

The Israelites had an experience of God that was most definitely VIVID … it was full of crashing and thundering and fire in the sky at night and a column of smoke during the day … it was immediate to their everyday existence – they literally DEPENDED on God for the food they ate each day.  They awoke to manna on the ground, and pheasants for meat.  God instructed Moses where to strike with his staff to draw water … the reestablishment of the relationship between the people of Israel and God was one that left little room for ambiguity.  There was really no need for a nuanced understanding of what being in relationship with God meant.  It was pretty simple.  If we are out of relationship with God, we most likely will die.  If we ARE in relationship with God, we most likely will live … at least a little longer.  

All in all, being that closely dependent on God for your survival was hard on the people of Israel… the writer even quotes Moses directly in verse 21: “I tremble with fear.” And seems to be speaking for the whole crowd. 

Immediately, we are given the contrasting view.  The other familiar image to the people of Israel –

²²But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, ²³and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, ²⁴and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

It is a radical change from the image that Mount Sinai produces.  To begin with, it is a brighter image, a light-filled panorama.  There are angels “gettin’ down”, there are those who are called the firstborn, who are enrolled in heaven … that’s an interesting turn of phrase, isn’t it?  You enroll in something before you actually become involved in it.  You enroll in a class, or in school, before you actually attend either one.  In saying it in that way, the writer is speaking a word of hope into the hearts of those who are receiving the letter.  They are hearing that, while they may not yet SEE heaven … remember, this is after having gone through the roll call of the faithful in chapter 11 of all those folks who lived by faith and DIDN’T see the promise fulfilled – he is connecting the readers and hearers with everyone on that list.  He’s saying that they ARE enrolled in heaven because of the blood of Jesus Christ. 

And it is on THAT that the whole of creation hinges.  The writer deftly compares the voice that warned from earth – Moses – of ignoring or dismissing God – to the voice that now calls from heaven – Jesus.  The juxtaposition of the voice of God shaking the earth at Mount Sinai to the promised effects of the voice of Christ shaking not ONLY the earth, but also the heaven is spelled out in verse 26, and in verse 27 we have a glimpse of the aftermath …

I’m really not a fire and brimstone kind of preacher.  You know that.  While I could keep going here and talk to you about what that second shaking will entail, how the writer spells out that created things will not remain, but only those things that cannot be shaken will remain … however that plays out in our minds and imaginations and in reality is anybody’s guess. 

What I want to focus on in view of that, is who we have standing on our behalf:  I would draw your attention to verse 28: “since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe;”

The question is this:  how do we go about “receiving the kingdom” that the writer is speaking of?  Through Christ.  And who is Christ? 

As believing followers of Jesus, we proclaim that Jesus is God incarnate.  That means the person of Jesus was our very creator, the same God that spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai, with all the thunder and lightning, the same God who lead the people of Israel through the desert with a column of fire by night and a column of smoke by day … who provided manna, who showed them where to get water; he is also the God who spoke the words of creation and made everything we can see and blessed it and called it good.  He is also the God who tried to reconcile the world to himself through the centuries, and finally came and made himself a man in order to complete that work.

If Jesus is our best image of God, then we need to examine THAT image to understand the heart of God. 

Jesus came, and didn’t throw his weight around – he didn’t stand on protocol.  Philippians 2 tells us that even though he was in very essence God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but made himself nothing –a slave, and was obedient even to the point of death. 

For us.

Because the relationship God wanted with us was THAT important to him. 

What does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

How do we present God in our daily lives?  If Jesus is the image of God for us, and we are now Christ’s body on earth, what image are we projecting of God? 

Do people see us and see a mountain surrounded by dark crashing clouds and thunder and lightning, or do they see a human being, scarred and beaten, willing to do whatever it takes to be in relationship with them? 

Are we willing?  Do we dare take on that image of God in order to draw the world a clearer picture of a God who is completely about self-sacrificing love, self-denying obedience, and self-giving presence?

Would you pray with me?