Foundry UMC DC: Sunday Sermons
Religion & Spirituality:Christianity
Awakening – 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Rev. K.C. Van Atta-Casebier
A Sermon for Foundry UMC
11.15.20
Good morning and welcome to those just joining us, you’ll find links for fully engaging in our service in our Facebook and YouTube comments or on our website foundryumc.org. If you are in need of ASL interpretation, you’ll find that info on foundryumc.org/asl.
Let’s Pray. God, for Your wisdom and revelation and hope, we pray now. Amen.
She stumbled her way through the unenchanted forest, with just a map and a fanciful dream. She didn’t at all find herself enchanted by the reverberating tree chorus or the soft, babbling stream. She kept her head up and, on a swivel, on guard. As her armor clanked, she was reminded of the uncivil. It was hardest to forget, that part. She looked down to see that the trodden path was close to being swallowed by the brush. Just a little bit further to go, a turn here, a twist there, and no need to rush. Only it felt like a race...antagonized by looming darkness, to arrive at peace…. salvation for her life, at too fast a pace. She wrestled with the pain that was much too embedded in every cell to release.
Her head turned up again, just before a tree collision. She kicked it in anger and consternation. It was so unapologetically big that it blocked her vision. Who does this tree think it is, taking up so much space? She wondered what it must have felt like...you know...to be so firmly rooted in place. Take a break, she heard the forest floor whisper, something to consider on account of the indefatigable mind sparring and her heel was beginning to blister. No, push through, she thought. Don’t quit. The kingdom called peace is at the end of this map that I brought. This is not it. She kept her eyes on the prize so to speak. There was a course laid out before her. She continued to strive and vehemently refused to appear weak. Only she realized...that she hadn’t moved, still face to face with the tree. Who was she kidding? What was she trying to prove? That she was somehow free? She plopped down at its base, took off her armor, pulled her knees to her chest, and with her hands, she buried her face. The forest hummed and rocked and lulled. As she felt herself begin to drift, an inevitable jolt. “This isn’t going to work,” she groaned. She lifted her head once more. Put on her armor and journeyed back out in the dark, ignoring the whispers from the forest floor. She felt lost, certainly not found...as she gazed into the never-ending scape, and with each nightingale tweet, her heart began to pound - a reminder to fear her escape. Shake it off. Going back was not an option. In her rear view, a kingdom standing PROUD, all drunk from the same toxin. Stabbings in the street, a mobbing and delusional crowd. Egomania, narcissism, and gasoline – a potent concoction.
Security was a funny name for a kingdom of oppression and violence, with a dialect of fear. She traversed through the night with caution, and eventually the forest began to clear.
The new light of day started to spread out. She gasped. Dejected, her eyes landed on a familiar sight. Had she somehow gotten turned around? Maybe she could tell if it wasn’t so bright. “No, it must be, I followed the map exactly right.”
…..
Resigned, she traced it with her wet eyes and made mental notes, built of the same stone, same gargantuan size, perhaps a less ostentatious throne, but strikingly similar, this was supposed to be the prize? “This can’t be the kingdom of peace. I didn’t come all this way to be starved at the same feast.” She fell down to her knees. A revelation of a futile attempt to escape this formidable beast. She shook her fists at the sky. “You promised this was it. You gave me this map, why? You told me I would be safe here, and I’m not one bit.” She crumbled into a cascading cry.
…..
Then she heard a faint whisper “...up here.” She lifted her head. “Unh Unh,” said the voice. “This time I’m gonna need your heart instead.” Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. She loosened her shoulders and opened her chest...felt zap after zap...the painful etching of a new map. When the light released her, she turned back toward the forest, this time noticing how very enchanted it was, the trees breathing as they swayed, she must have missed that part. And she ran, with reckless abandon toward something new, her arms spread apart. Once embraced by the strength of the rooted trunks and the magic of life echoing all around her, she felt safe to meander about in her salvation. That sweet Cyprus fragrance and the water rapping against the stones invited her into the intoxicating dance of faith. Her heart and the whimsical, messy, melody settled into the same tone. Ah, yes. Her divinely entangled fate. Soon, the darkness began to creep in, and she decided to look directly into it, a gaping invitation to the unknown.
“Where is my heart taking me,” she wondered? It was dark and scary, and she started to falter. “A place called awakening,” the forest thundered. “A place where the rocks of the river form an altar.” Deeper into the unknown she went. Until she couldn’t go anymore. Too tired to figure out what this all meant. “Take a break,” whispered the forest floor. Illusory peace and security nowhere to be seen. She sat down to rest, up against a tree. Audaciously big, she thought. She pulled her knees to her chest, buried her face in her hands and wondered what it must feel like to be that free.
And then she spotted it. A small, almost unsuitable starry gleam. It became so bright that she awoke from her long and arduous dream. She yawned and stretched. She loosened her shoulders and opened her chest. “Ow.” Her heart ached. How could that be? If she wasn’t yet awake. Unless…
…..
She brushed herself off. Parched, she headed to the river for a quaff. The star gave light to the dark path. As she approached, she noticed a pile of stones inviting her into the bath. For awhile she played in the water like she did as a girl. Then she surrendered and let the water toss her about in its whirl. As she melted away, she heard a voice whisper, “remember, you’re a person of the water. And here in the altar bath, you’re not just anyone, you’re my beloved daughter.” The water healed the heart scars. And the sun was starting to scare away the glistening stars.
In the light of the new day, she danced about in the peace and security of being known. Of being held. Of belonging. Of the love she had been shown. Of the freedom she felt. Her heart still throbbing…. here in the in-between. “Perhaps this is a kingdom without a king,” she mused. “Perhaps it's just a kingdom without a g. Yes, a Kin-dom is on the loose.” And now she doesn’t have to wonder how it feels to be that free.
“An enchanted escape doesn’t have to be my final destiny. But I can never now unsee awakening. It’s a reacquainting place for when the empire starts to get the best of me. An invitation to grow up and grow down, to hold steady in the blustery imperial winds, to remain grounded in the earth matter, to give boundless hope much to our chagrin, to silence the hollow, dusty chatter. To remember that we are water people. That salvation is something for us to meander about in. That empires are not innately peaceful. But we are. Awakening is the place of incarnation and the resurrection and everything unseen
It holds more questions than answers, and gives space to the unknown
And guttural shouts of, “what could this possibly mean?”
If only we can remember what we’ve been shown. We can help others be more free. Our destinations aren’t mirages of peace and security promised by new regimes. In fact, it’s not the destination at all. It’s all in the dream.”
Awakening.
Now I see.
“You and I aren’t meant to be in separate kingdoms. We’re not meant to be ripped apart.”
And so she ran with reckless abandon, following the map to awakening that had been painfully etched on her heart.
Let’s Pray.
God for assurance of peace and security in the belovedness of our baptismal identity, we pray. Awaken us to ourselves….and to faith, hope, and plentiful love. Remind us that we’ve been given armor and not a weapon. Help us to heed the tiny whispers of Spirit that invite us into rest and open our hearts that we may know more intimately how to be human together in this cosmic accident. Remind us that we are water people, baptized in the sacred river. And that we’ve been splashing around in salvation from the beginning. Remind us that it's in the unknown that we become known. Help us recommit to the vocation of peace-building rather than recruitment. And hold us, call us beloved, dance with us, waft sweet smells under our noses, and mop up the spillage of our hearts. Every day when we wake up, give us a fresh start. In the name of life abundant we pray together, Amen.
Benediction:
Foundry, may the love of God, the hope of Jesus, and the communion of the Spirit be with us now as we embark anew on our journey to awakening. Amen.
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