2019.03.10 - First Sunday of Lent: Treasure

Scripture Reading - Psalm 139

Psalm 139 (The Message)

139 1-6 God, investigate my life;
   get all the facts firsthand.
I’m an open book to you;
   even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
   I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
   before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
   then up ahead and you’re there, too--
   your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful--
   I can’t take it all in!
7-12 Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
   to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you’re there!
   If I go underground, you’re there!
If I flew on morning’s wings
   to the far western horizon,
You’d find me in a minute--
   you’re already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, “Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
   At night I’m immersed in the light!”
It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you;
   night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.
13-16 Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
   you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
   Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
   I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
   you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
   how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
   all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
   before I’d even lived one day.
17-22 Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful!
   God, I’ll never comprehend them!
I couldn’t even begin to count them--
   any more than I could count the sand of the sea.
Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you!
   And please, God, do away with wickedness for good!
And you murderers—out of here!--
   all the men and women who belittle you, God,
   infatuated with cheap god-imitations.
See how I hate those who hate you, God,
   see how I loathe all this godless arrogance;
I hate it with pure, unadulterated hatred.
   Your enemies are my enemies!
23-24 Investigate my life, O God,
   find out everything about me;
Cross-examine and test me,
   get a clear picture of what I’m about;
See for yourself whether I’ve done anything wrong--
   then guide me on the road to eternal life.

 
Sermon

When we lived in Haverhill, there was this wonderful gallery that sold art from all over the world. I don’t remember the name of the store even though it was a place we visited several times a year - it has since closed - but I remember Margot who owned the shop. She traveled everywhere and formed relationships with artists, sculptors, craftspeople - and would purchase their goods to bring to her shop to sell. Some of my favorite work was done by an Israeli artist who works in ceramics and one year for our anniversary, Ben purchased some bowls and a plate that I had had my eye on for forever. I loved the colors and the design - they were definitely items that - as organizing consultant Marie Kondo would say - sparked joy. Whenever I looked at them.

We’d bring these bowls out whenever we had dinner parties or large gatherings - and one day, a couple years ago - it might have even been during my clumsy phase when I was pregnant with Michael - I went to put the bowl away and it slipped out of my hand and broke on the counter into two neat pieces.

Easy enough to fix - so I put it away in a drawer until I had the time and energy to fix it...but it became one of those little projects that I just never got around to, until one day, I was looking for something in the drawer and I pulled the drawer out too far and...everything came spilling out, including the bowl, now split into several pieces - and now most likely beyond repair.

I’ve kept it wondering - should I try to fix it? It seems like I could glue it back together, but for a big missing piece out of the top. Or - is it time to let it go - offer it to the mercy of the winds and waves and beachcombers, and hope that a precious fragment or two might make its way back to me as a momento?

We begin this season of Lent with this worship series called Holy Vessels: God’s Healing and Wholeness, using the image and journey of seaglass as a metaphor for understanding our own journey with God. We here in the West, when we think about Lent and this season of “penance”, we often associate it with suffering. Deprivation. Denying ourselves as a way of turning away from what is wrong and turning more fully toward what is right, turning more fully toward God.

However, in the Eastern Orthodox church, penance is less about suffering and more about restoration and reconciliation - allowing God to heal what has been hurt and broken within us. It is about preparing to live an Easter life - a life where death has no hold over us.

Each of us has been created as a precious vessel of God’s love. Uniquely gifted, infinitely valued, fashioned and treasured by God. And yet - each of us has experienced hurt and brokenness in our lives -- some of us have had the pieces of our lives shatter on the floor in one big traumatic event...some of us have had experienced the hurts and pains of hundreds of small chips flaking from our souls. Some of us have felt it all.

We live with brokenness. It is part of our reality as human beings - even as it is also true that God created us as whole beings and yearns to bring us once again back to wholeness - and holiness.

The beauty of Psalm 139 is that God sees us and knows us. God knows what is in our hearts, our minds, our spirits, our bodies down to the number of hairs on our head, knows our deepest inner longings and fears, is intimately familiar with what brings us joy, what gets us angry, what wounds we carry. There are no surprises - God’s presence surrounds us at every stage of our life, no matter if we are aware of it or not, no matter if we try to hide from God or not.

God knows every hairline fracture, every jagged edge, every missing shard, every chip and crack we carry - and God loves us...and desires to heal us.

The response of the psalmist to such utter intimate knowledge is one of trust - “Investigate my life, O God,
   find out everything about me;
Cross-examine and test me,
   get a clear picture of what I’m about;
See for yourself whether I’ve done anything wrong--
   then guide me on the road to eternal life.”

Guide me on your healing path - bring me to that place of healing and wholeness and life in your love. That is the prayer of the psalmist - and it is our prayer as well.

You’ll find scattered around the sanctuary pieces of seaglass that are still in process - there are smooth edges and edges that are still unformed. Each piece of this seaglass began as something discarded. Thrown away. Carelessly discarded and forgotten and broken. A beer bottle. An old vase, no longer useful. A chipped plate. An empty jar. When we find ourselves up against the challenges in life - the loss of a job, the betrayal of a friend, the devastating diagnosis, the death of a loved one, the project that failed, the struggle with addiction or mental illness, facing our own insecurities and shortcomings - it can feel a lot like being broken apart and tossed to the side.

And yet - when pain comes and we feel discarded and worthless, when we feel lost and forgotten about - it’s not the end of the story. The glass began its journey as something thrown away, but as it found its way to the waters, tossed about by sand and sea, refined and worked and transformed by the wind and the waves - it becomes a mineral gem, something beautiful, sought after, and treasured. In the same way, when suffering comes, God can work in us and restore us, transforming those broken, jagged edges into places of beauty, and there is healing to be found in the God who searches us and gathers us up into communion and fellowship with one another - who brings us into love and forgiveness - who makes us whole again and who offers us the opportunity to turn toward new life….and we are reminded that in our beginning and in our ending and in all of our life - we belong to God.

We’re going to have a moment for silence and reflection, and I’d like you to prayerfully consider your own life. This Lent, as we journey with one another and with God, what are those fractured places in your life that need God’s healing? What are the jagged edges that God desires to restore? Where does God yearn to create beauty from your brokenness? Let’s take some time to silently name those places.

[silence]

During our next hymn, you’re invited to come forward and take one of the pieces of seaglass on the table here and use a sharpie to write down a word or a phrase that represents where you’d like God to bring wholeness for you...and to place it on the altar as a way of offering your brokenness to God for healing. These pieces will stay here during the next five weeks in this space as a symbol that God holds all our hurt and pain and suffering together - and brings us wholeness.  If you are moved to do so, you are also invited to spend time at the altar rail for prayer...to pray for God to work in you...to remind yourself that God knows you and loves you...to remember that the hurts and wounds we experience don’t mark the end of our story, but are part of our journey with the God who leads us to new life, who enables us to die to the parts of ourselves that prevent us from experiencing God’s love, and who reminds us that the things of death cannot hold us.

May we together turn toward life in God’s love, offering our brokenness to God for transformation and healing, as we stand and sing together “You Are Mine” number 2218 in the black hymnal.

*Hymn - You are Mine (FWS 2218)