Tuesday, June 16, 2015

The Hidden Work of God


Who knows why all the paraments are now green? The altar frontal, the pulpit and lectern drapes, even my chasuble and stole. Two weeks ago they were all white, the week before that they were all red. Why are they now all green? Can anyone tell me?

In the Episcopal Church we are blessed with a liturgical year that has distinct seasons. In Advent, our paraments are all blue, to symbolize our solemn preparation for the coming of Christ. In Christmas tide, in Easter tide, and on other festal days, they are white and gold, to symbolize our joyful response to Jesus’ birth and Christ’s resurrection. During Lent, the paraments are purple, symbolizing our need to confront our weaknesses and amend our lives. During Holy Week and on Pentecost, they are red, symbolizing either the blood of Jesus’ death or the fire of the Holy Spirit. And finally, in Epiphany tide and from now until next Advent, the paraments are all green. And, if you look outside the church, you see the same color: green! Yes, my friends, during the short season of Epiphany and during this longer Pentecost season, we wear green so that we may always remember that God is at work within us helping us to grow. We may not feel as if we are growing, we may not see any growth. Nevertheless, God is at work within us: enabling us to grow personally in our individual spiritual lives, to grow together as a Christian community held together by bonds of love, and to grow in our ability to see where and how we may join God in God’s work in the world.

Growth: it’s a mysterious process. As you gardeners know, we can stunt growth, or, we can encourage it, but we can’t make it happen. Often, we have to wait patiently before we can even see that it has happened. So you might rightly ask, “How can we tell if we are growing? How we can tell whether God is at work in the world?” I look around me, and it looks like the same old, same old. Same old sins, same old weaknesses, same old conflicts, same old war, violence, corruption, injustice, and death. Am I really growing as a Christian? What does God see that I don’t see? Is God really at work in the world? Well, my friends, you may not have always had the ambition to be a plant, but you are a plant! We are all God’s plants, and rest assured, God is at work in God’s field, even if we don’t always see where and how! Indeed, today’s lessons remind us that most often God’s work is invisible, mysterious, and hidden from us.

Were you surprised by the outcome of today’s lesson from 1st Samuel? God had surely been at work in David from the time of David’s birth, but God’s work was hidden. It was a mystery to everyone, perhaps even including David himself. Certainly, God’s choice of David was hidden from Samuel, from David’s family, and from the whole community of Israel, until the moment that God directed Samuel to anoint David. If you had been there, you would surely have thought: Jesse’s youngest son? Perhaps in 2006 General Convention delegates thought the same thing when Katherine Jefferts Schori was elected Presiding Bishop. She was certainly not the most obvious choice among the group of seven nominees. In subsequent readings this summer we will hear why God chose David and how, with the help of God’s Spirit, David became a great king and the ancestor and model for God’s messiah.

Both of the parables in today’s Gospel lesson remind us even more forcefully that God’s work is hidden, mysterious, and mostly beyond our control. God is indeed bringing in God’s Reign, but we as humans mostly can’t fathom how. The coming of God’s Reign, Jesus tells us in Mark’s Gospel, is like someone throwing out seeds and then waiting. The farmer may prepare the soil and plant at the right time, but the farmer can’t make the seeds grow. Without the farmer knowing how, the earth produces grain all by itself. And the signs are unmistakable: first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain. How? We don’t know. But the harvest is nonetheless assured – in great abundance. In the same way, Jesus suggests, the coming of God’s Reign can be compared to a tiny mustard seed. Not only does the tiny seed grow into a large shrub, it also produces oil and more seeds for cooking and flavoring. But how? We don’t know. In the end, despite our best efforts to find out – and despite the discoveries of modern science – the growth, of plants, no less than of ourselves, is still mysterious.

In his second letter to that fractious Christian community at Corinth, Paul also wrestled with the mysterious, hidden work of God. Paul knew that the Corinthian Christians took great pride in what they thought of as their great spiritual gifts. In this letter, as in his first letter to them, he reminded them that, if we grow or mature spiritually, it is because God has taken the initiative, and God has done the work. Paul tells the Corinthian Christians and us that if we are confident about God’s work, our confidence should not come from ourselves but from the death and resurrection of Christ. Because of Christ’s work, we are able to see as God sees, that is, we are able to “regard nothing from a human point of view,” but rather, to remember that “everything has become new,” through the death and resurrection of Christ.

When I think about the mysterious, hidden work of God in myself, in the Church, and in the world, I’m often reminded of the saguaros of the southwest desert. The saguaros are the cacti that most often symbolize the desert for us: tall, green, spiky, with great curving arms. Of all the cacti, the saguaros grow the most slowly. You can grow one from seed, but you will probably not live to see it as an adult. When they are about my height, they are about 75 years old. They’re about 100 when the buds for the arms begin to develop, and they’re close to 200 years old before they’re fully grown. They do produce flowers and fruit when they are mature, but they grow very slowly. If you want saguaros, you have to be very patient, and you have to take a very long view.

Fortunately, God takes the long view. God is at work in us, invisibly, mysteriously, slowly, and, rest assured, God will have God’s harvest. You may feel like one of those saguaros, as if God’s growth is happening so slowly that you cannot perceive it. Rest assured: you are growing! The Word of God somehow penetrates our hearts, and we come back to Christ with renewed devotion. By God’s grace, we find growing within ourselves the desire to deepen our relationship with God, perhaps even to seek spiritual direction. By God’s grace, we begin to read Scripture more intentionally and regularly. By God’s grace, we begin to pray for others. One day, without our knowing where the words come from, we finally have the courage to ask others to pray for us. By God’s grace, through the leading of the Holy Spirit, we are finally able to commit to a twelve-step program, give up our addictions, and become sober or clean. By God’s grace, we can finally forgive all the old wrongs members of our families have done us. By God’s grace, we can put behind us the old conflicts in our families, workplaces, and churches, and begin to reach out to one another in love. By God’s grace we hear God calling us to a new vocation, and, from unknown depths within ourselves, we answer, “Here am I, send me.” By God’s grace, our parishes discover new ministries that enable us to use our gifts and meet the needs of those around us. By God’s grace, we realize that God’s Reign has already begun, and we take our place at God’s side and participate in God’s renewal of creation. By God’s grace, we realize that where God is at work, the harvest is more abundant than we can ever ask or imagine.

And so, as we enter into this season of growth in the spiritual life, this season of growth reflected in the green paraments around us, we can be filled with hope and faith, and we can patiently trust that God is at work, even if God’s work is hidden, invisible, and mysterious. In a few minutes we will affirm our faith in the words given us by the early Church. Now, though, I’d like us to share a different kind of affirmation of faith, faith in God’s mysterious growth, given us by a contemporary spiritual “midwife,” Joyce Rupp. Let’s stand and say it together.

I believe that it takes much patience to sow a seed, to freely give it away to the heart of the earth, to allow it to take root and to grow in its own good time.

I believe that the Word of God has many times been planted in my life, often because of another who received the seed in ready soil, brought forth a harvest, and shared that goodness with me.

I believe that great things can come forth from even the tiniest seed planted in love and cared for tenderly in the heart of another.

I believe that even the most insignificant aspects of life can be the seed of God’s gifting, that deeper faith can root and mature in very ordinary soil.

I believe that some dying of seed has to take place before it can give itself over to life, that every heart has its germination time, its dark moment, before the future holiness of harvest comes.

I believe that my life will always know its season of hope … that I will find green, growing things after every harsh, barren winter.

And most of all … I believe in the Sower of all seeds, in the God of renewing seasons, in the Giver of all good and growing things, my Lord and my God! Amen.

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