10 July 2017

Sermon, 5th Sunday after Pentecost

Genesis 24.35-38, 42-49, 58-67
Zechariah 9.9-12
Romans 7.15-25a
Matthew 11.16-19, 25-30

          Sometimes we can be shocked when our reality does not fit with our expectation. There's a story of a man who bought a Persian rug online for a great deal, but didn't read the details carefully... so was shocked to receive a rug that was 9x12 - inches, not feet. It was a Persian rug for a doll house. 
          Amusing, annoying, and important to learn that the fine print matters. We mustn't get so caught up in the expectation that the reality is disappointing.
          For, when it comes to being faithful to God, we tend to come to God with our very earthy, very earthly expectations; and so often the reality is so completely different.
          This is not new - the scriptures today provide several examples of where God's people have an expectation, and God intervenes is astonishing ways.

          So let's consider the soap opera from Genesis. We're just getting the highlights: Isaac needs a wife, sends a servant to find the best one, just go to the well where all the single girls hang out. Hmm. Awkward!
          Rebekeh’s brother conspires with the servant, and sends her to the well. There she sees the servant, offers to water him AND his camels. Sidenote: each of these 10 camels will drink some 20-30 gallons at a time. That's a lot of drawing and carrying water by herself.  Yet she does it, and the servant finds her beautiful, freakishly strong, and makes sure she happens to be wearing some snazzy jewelry. She agrees to leave her family and homeland to go be with some dude she's never met. Then, - I did mention soap opera drama, yes? - she sees Isaac, and is so smitten by this biblical dreamboat that she falls off her camel.
          Fun storytelling aside, the text is clear. Isaac knows he needs a wife to provide legitimate heirs, but is so grief-stricken he sends his servant to find someone. Anyone. His expectation is low: any girl to be a mother for his children.
          The reality, however, is so much more: he finds love and comfort and care, in a woman that is faithful and generous and compassionate.
          The reality far exceeds the expectation.

          In our canticle, we have the Israelites' expecting the same old same old they've had in their 16-year exile. They're feeling defeated - it's been one hit after another.
          But God is not 'same old' and never has been. So to this heavy-hearted community, Zechariah encourages a renewed energy and commitment to one another through faith.
He tells them not to expect a warhorse of a leader, but a gentle true King on a donkey.
He tells them not to expect a great bloody war to end all wars, but a persistent and prevalent dispersion of peace.
He reminds them that the people imprisoned in jail and those caught in despair will be set free - going so far as to call them "prisoners of hope" - what a great thing to be known for, for having a complete hope in God's covenant and the promise of salvation.
          The expectation of the people is that they will be evermore defeated; the reality is a restoration of faith and community.
          Again, The reality far exceeded the expectation.

          Romans is a rich text, with Paul struggling over his identity as a beloved child of God. The expectation on earth is that one's life is one's own, and each individual is responsible with their body, their person, to answer to the law. We like the law, it's a good set of reasonable and time-tested expectations.
          Yet Paul realises that the spiritual reality is bigger; that sin - not a breaking of the law, but a sin - is evil, and should be avoided, and can in fact cause eternal damage to the soul. The body, through sin, is condemned to eternal death.
          Then, how wonderful for Paul in this letter to also recognise that God is bigger than the human law. God is bigger than sin. God's mercy and grace is so much more than can be asked or imagined, it is so much more than any of the sins we commit in our bodies. So with our minds, our true selves, we come to God and are welcomed and received with the promise of salvation and redemption.
          Again, THAT reality far exceeds the limited bodily expectation.

          And in the Gospel this morning, we hear how the expectation and the reality don't quite match up. Jesus is challenging the folks about their commitment and faith. They've dismissed John the baptist because he didn't eat and drink, therefore he must be a demon. They've rejected and insulted Jesus because of the company he kept (of whom the upper echelon did NOT approve.
          "Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds."
          Indeed - that continues with Jesus' prayer. "Thanks dad," he says, "that you've given heavenly knowledge to the simple folks, and kept it from those who would connive to use it for personal gain."
          Hmm. Definitely not the expectation of the people. But it is the reality of God in their midst.
          Jesus continues with that beautiful passage that we hear so often: "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

          And here I invite us to delve deeper into what Jesus is saying - because if we have the expectation that this means that *POOF* Jesus will automatically make our lives perfect - well, then we've missed the point. The reality is even more beautiful and profound than that.
          In this promise, Jesus offers us a community of love and support. Jesus invites us to come to him with our challenges: all of them, and to receive help. For the tortured soul, there can be no better assurance.
          And the reality of this 'rest for the soul' is the sharing of the burden. The yoke is an agrarian tool that connects animals and requires them to walk in sync with one another. Right foot, left foot, repeat. And it is through this synchronicity that the burden of hoeing the line is lessened. Together, we can do it; alone, we struggle in pain.
          "Learn from me," Jesus says: not as an individual who is isolated from others as a result of your burdens, but come and walk with me, and with all the others on this journey. Be a disciple that builds community. Take extra weight from another of the beloved so that they too can thrive; know that when you struggle your companions will ease your burden.
          Jesus never promises to make things magically perfect for us - the burden is light but not gone. Jesus does promise that he will be gentle with us, and work with us. But we have to choose to also walk with Him, to do the hard stuff of being his followers: to love God with all we have, even when it means self-denial in this life. To love our neighbours as we want to be loved, moving beyond our own judgements and prejudices to embrace the beloved child of God in our midst.
          It's a powerful message for us all.
          Love God; Love one another. Help one another, under the yoke of the Lord. Journey side by side, doing whatever we can to help make the shared burden lighter.
Don't expect it to be easy; but do it anyway.

          And be delightfully shocked to discover that the reality of God's love for us far exceeds anything we ever expected.

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