Monday, November 02, 2020

Now We Wait

My most recent sermon was entitled, "Now We Wait." I considered the story of King Jehoshaphat in 2 Chronicles chapter 20 and Jesus in the boat with his disciples in Mark 4. 

In the first story, the king and the people were facing a dangerous and large enemy, so they cried out to God in prayer, asking for help, for safety, for mercy, and verse 12 of that chapter ends with these two powerful and timely statements - "For we are powerless against this great multitude that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you." 

In the storm story told in Mark 4, the disciples assault their slumbering Savior and ask him this question: "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 

I intentionally ended the Scripture readings in the middle of those stories. 
In the awkward and painful pause between the prayer and the answer.
Between the question and the response.

Cuz isn't that where we spend a lot of our time?
Facing great multitudes that we have no power to overcome.
Unsure of where to turn or what to do.
Wondering if Jesus is still asleep in our nearly-swamped boats. 
Asking - sometimes aloud, but mostly silently, urgently, painfully, between clenched jaws - 
"Don't you care that we are perishing???" 

Looking around, we wonder - Does anyone care? Anyone at all?

If you have the time or the inclination, the sermon is here. The Scripture is read by my friend, Diane, around minute 33:24, and my sermon begins at minute 37:29. 


Eight years ago today, on November 2, 2012, I underwent a biopsy of my left breast and one lymph node after a routine mammogram on Halloween was followed by a sonogram which prompted the technician to make an appointment for a biopsy two days later.  

Eight years ago right now, in the evening hours, I was in the awkward, dreadful, painful pause between the biopsy and the kanswer diagnosis


Right now, in the evening hours of November 2, 2020, we are all (perhaps even people who do not live in the United States) in the awkward, dreadful, painful pause between voting (for those of us who voted early or used mail in ballots) and the outcome of the election. 

Now we wait.


*******      Please pardon my public service announcement here    *******

IF YOU ARE AN AMERICAN CITIZEN AND CAN VOTE, PLEASE DO SO! 
VOTE.
VOTE.
VOTE. 
Pack a snack. Take some music. A foldable chair. A mask. A good book to read.
Take advantage of the right that thousands of people fought for and died for.
VOTE!

Check in with family and friends, and make sure they have a safe voting plan.

If you can, provide rides to the polls.
Protect those who are voting. 
Stand nearby.

If you cannot be present, pray. burn candles. light incense.
do your part to add positive energy and hope to this moment in our nation and our world.

*******   Public service announcement concluded   *******


I was awake for quite a while in the middle of the night last night. That's not normal for me. As I lay there in the darkness, I felt a wave of sorrow and sadness - and said several prayers - for people who deal with insomnia on a regular basis. 

I pulled out my phone and recorded a voice memo at 3:18 am.
Here's what I said to myself - and also to you who have found your way here...

"Lying here in bed awake in the middle of the night, I can understand why people are anxious and worried. There's a lot going on in the world. There's a lot going on in our country, in our own communities, in our homes, in our hearts. And so we who are the followers of Christ, we who are people of faith, we who look beyond just what is immediate, we need to do what we can do - we need to pray. We need to be present where we can be present. We need to be active where we can be active. We need to be beacons of hope for those who are running out of it. We need to do what we can do at this time. We need to stand and sit and speak and cry and pray. And we need to look beyond November 3rd and beyond the end of these wildfires and we need to look beyond the end of hurricane season. And we need to figure out what we are going to do and who we are going to be going forward. No matter who wins the election. No matter what comes of this pandemic. We've got to look further down the road. We have to. And it starts with being together in ways we can be together right now. It starts with encouraging each other to hold onto hope for each other until we can hold onto it for ourselves. As I preached on Sunday, now we wait. now we wait."


Friends, the waiting is hard. Tenuous. Unsettling. Anxiety-producing. 
One truth I hold onto is that I do not wait alone. Neither do you.

You may be in your house alone, in your apartment alone, in your condo alone.
But in many of the most important ways, we wait together.
We join our prayers, our hopes, our longings for peace online, through texts, on Instagram, through Zoom
- we wait together. We hope together. 

And while we wait, we rest. breathe. eat nourishing food.
drink tea. or kombucha. or whatever will steel your jangly nerves.

We connect to one another.
We connect to our joy and laughter.
We connect with our own truest, most courageous, hopeful selves.

We refuse to allow fear and anxiety to rule us.
We resist all efforts to make us believe that things are hopeless.
We turn off the news - even public radio.
We allow our anxious hearts and restless minds to relax for a while.

We live and breathe and prepare ourselves
for the work of healing and wholeness,
protection and provision,
care and connection that is ahead of us -
no matter who is declared the winner of the presidential election in the coming days. 

The man who resides in the white house is not the one who will do that work.
We are the ones who will do this life affirming, nation building work in the days ahead.

So get your rest.
Get prayed up. 
Walk. Run. Sweat. Stretch.
Do yoga. Meditate. Sit.  
Get ready for the real work that is to come.

But now - now we wait. 

5 comments:

Jena said...

I’m so thankful for you.

Shei6 said...

Thank you for encouraging me to wait in peace.

Sally H said...

It is so hard. Thank you for your spiritual guidance.

Lisa said...

and in just a week or two, we will begin to wait again - for the birth of our savior. So much of our lives we do indeed spending waiting. Thank you for this post!

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