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Thin Places

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A Sermon for 26 August 2018

A reading of Psalm 84.  Listen for God’s word to us in this beautiful Psalm believed to be inspired by pilgrims’ annual journeys to Jerusalem for Temple festivals.  Listen.

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!  2 My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.  3 Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.  4 Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise.  5 Happy are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.   6 As they go through the valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.  7 They go from strength to strength; the God of gods will be seen in Zion.  8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob!  9 Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed.  10 For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.  I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness.  11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield; God bestows favor and honor.  No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.  12 O Lord of hosts, happy is everyone who trusts in you.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

I’ve been told that Ireland is beautiful!  Some of you likely have been there.  I never have.  . . .  Rolling hills along rugged coasts.  Green everywhere you look.  Wild weather often blows in off the Atlantic.  And ancient stones sit all over the land.  For those unwilling to appreciate the beauty of nature, it might just seem like a country filled with piles of old rocks.  Others find the land palpable with Presence.  Hallowed spaces where it feels as if heaven and earth meet.  The Ancient Celts called such spots thin places.  In fact, a Celtic saying proclaims that “heaven and earth are only three feet apart, but in thin places that distance is even shorter” (quoted on https://www.irishamericanmom.com/irelands-thin-places/).  From stone circles in places like County Cork to the massive Grianan Stone Ring Fort in County Donegal, thin places teach us that some locations on earth are closer to the spiritual.  Thin places are where God’s Presence is more accessible.

Listen to one passionate Irish American describe her experience of Ireland’s thin places:  “These places bring feelings and emotions, realizations and awareness to the fore.  It is as if the line between all that is sacred and human meet for just a moment.  There is something otherworldly in the atmosphere, transcendent, even divine.  Other dimensions seem closer than usual.  There is a tangible stillness to the silence” (Ibid.).  She continues:  “In a thin place something beyond words causes our spines to tingle, as if awakening our souls.  Even our thoughts seem to be swept away in the moment, and something deep within our beings touches a luminous seat of knowledge.  . . . Returning from a thin place is marked by a feeling of refreshment and renewal.  Our awareness of the world around us becomes heightened” (Ibid.).  She also writes about the lasting effects of being in a thin place.  “In days, weeks, and years to come;” she writes, “memories of sacred landscapes help us see glimpses of nature and the Divine in the chaotic world around our urban existences.  The prayerfulness of these little corners of earth urge us to return to them in our imagination when we cannot physically visit them again.  When overwhelmed by the monotony of daily life, the tedious details of work and living” she writes; “we can listen to our hearts and hear the silent music of thin places.  Our souls guide us back to the peaceful presence of those ancient stones and help us draw strength from the peace and serenity of our thin place experiences” (Ibid.).

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts,” the Psalmist writes (Ps. 84:1).  “My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the LORD!” (Ps. 84:2a).  Psalm 84 might be one of the most beautiful scriptural descriptions of a pilgrim’s experience of a thin place.  It’s unlikely that most of us consider the Temple in Jerusalem as a thin place.  But what else do we think the people of God had been describing?  Since the days of Moses and the wandering Israelites dwelling with the tabernacle of God among them, Scripture is filled with stories of the people of God experiencing the palpable Presence of Heaven coming ever so close to earth.  Of course, the Presence was on the move in the Ark of the Covenant until King Solomon finally had the go ahead to have massive stones moved together on Mount Zion.  The Temple was raised on the mount in Jerusalem for the Sacred to fill the atmosphere.  To bring the other dimension of the Divine closer to human beings.  To cause our spines to tingle.  To awaken our souls and be swept up beyond all rational thought for something deep within ourselves to be touched by the Luminous.  That we might know, truly know, that the One who is beyond us also is among us.  The thin place of the Temple had that kind of effect – not only because the of grandeur of the structure.  But also because it was there worshippers had experienced the wonder-filled meeting of heaven and earth.

A few years ago, when I arrived in the Holy Land with a group of fellow pilgrims; we were told to suspend suspicion over sites we would see being factually in the actual spot where the events might have taken place.  I think I’ve told you this before.  We were reminded that everywhere we were going in that land was where Jesus of Nazareth had walked.  For people of faith, it all was hallowed ground.  And it was hallowed not just by his previous physical presence.  Part of what makes the Holy Land holy is the power of the prayers pilgrims have brought to each spot for thousands of years – from our earliest Israelite ancestors in the faith right up to the worldwide Christian visitors of today.  The land pulses with a Presence – an energy – a Living Presence that feels like an intersection, a thinner veil between heaven and earth.  The Holy Land is full of such spots – though the hustle and bustle of busloads of other pilgrims can make it difficult to notice.  Tough to be quiet in order to hear the silent music of God.  Our hearts and our flesh able to join the Psalmist in singing for joy to the living God (Ps. 84:2b).  It’s just easier to experience God there – for emotions and realizations and awareness to bubble up to the surface so that we want to remain right there forever.

The destruction the of Temple a few decades after Jesus’ death and resurrection might have brought an end to the glory of that building.  But it did not bring an end to the mystical quality of that space.  The stones of the remaining Western Wall – also known as the Wailing Wall – still hold the power of the Divine Presence.  Millions flock there annually to make their wishes as they touch the ancient rock and shove their little prayer papers into whatever crevice they can find in the wall.  Scores of observant Jews (watched by curious spiritual seekers) gather late each Friday afternoon.  Men on one side, women on the other.  They begin the beautiful ritual of preparing for the Sabbath with prayers and songs and joyous dances.  I remember being there, watching one Friday.  And seeing that even the birds were gathered.  Right over the heads of worshippers sparrows and holy pigeons joined with their happy sounds.

I realize this spot (this sanctuary) isn’t anywhere as ancient as the holy spots of Jerusalem or the stone circles of Ireland, but I wonder if any of us notice the palpable Presence here?  So that we long to be here – in this sanctuary – ever singing God’s praise?  When we gather here together, we are saturated by the prayers of the generations.  Their hopes and fears and celebrations.  We are surrounded by the power of ancient ritual.  The sprinkling of water as a sign and seal.  The breaking of bread.  The cup poured out in reminder that our own life-force is to be as freely given for life in the world today.  Hearts attuned.  Voices lifted up.  Hands folded or outstretched.  For years.  The Presence awakening our souls in this thin place that we might go forth refreshed.  Renewed.  Dare I say:  for us to remember that the lovely place in which God dwells is here and is within every last one of us too.  Who long to be together in the Presence of the Living God – like batteries recharged – so that we spread out into homes and neighborhoods and places of daily work to be like walking thin places.  People in whom heaven and earth – Spirit and flesh – intersect.  Creating an atmosphere – not on our own accord but because we’ve gotten ourselves out of the way enough for the Spirit of God, the Light of Christ to shine right through us.  That palpable Presence going forth from us to renew the hearts of those who cross our paths.  Refreshing toilsome souls that long for a taste of the Light.  . . .  Thin places – walking all over the earth for God’s Presence to be a little more accessible to all.

May our lives proclaim how lovely is God’s dwelling place!  May our hearts sing for joy for the palpable Presence of the Living God!

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2018  (All rights reserved.)

 

Lent Lesson #2: Fiery

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A Sermon for 4 March 2018 – 3rd Sunday during Lent

A reading from the gospel of John 2:13-22.  Listen for God’s word to us.

“The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.  14 In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables.  15 Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables.  16 He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here!  Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!”  17 His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”  18 The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?”  19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  20 The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?”  21 But he was speaking of the temple of his body.  22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

 

It’s the third Sunday amid the season of Lent.  And how interesting that the gospel reading assigned in the lectionary for today takes us back to the second chapter of the gospel of John.  Right to a story that doubtfully ever will be depicted on a sanctuary stained-glass window!  Seemingly in contrast to the gentle Jesus who carries the little lambs, the story of Jesus entering the Temple to throw over the money-changers is not often told to youngsters.  It appears in all four gospels, which is one way the early church proclaimed to listeners:  now hear ye!  This one MUST be included in any understanding of the Christ!  In the Synoptics of Matthew, Mark, and Luke; the wild-eyed, resolute Jesus cleanses the Temple as one of his last acts in Jerusalem before his arrest and crucifixion.  But in the gospel of John at the outset of his public ministry, the first time we hear of Jesus going up to Jerusalem for the Passover; he’s pouring out coins, throwing over tables, cracking a whip to rid his Father’s house of that which he finds an utter disgrace.

While some point back to this event as the time Jesus got really really mad, righteous anger fuming like smoke from his ears; zeal is the word that is used.  The gospel of John declares that zeal for the LORD’s house consumes him – which is not about anger at all!  Right about now we well-reasoning Presbyterians should be warned.  The gospel’s taking us into the depths of an energy many tend to shy away from:  passion!  That upwelling of energy that moves us into the amazing.  That intensity of emotion that leaves us feeling absolutely alive!  . . .  Webster’s defines zeal as an enthusiastic, intense interest – as in a cause or ideal.  Also known as ardor.  Another unfamiliar attribute today.  Ardor is warmth of emotion, intense heat, red-hot burning passion.  Which by the way is not just about something sexual as seems today’s only acceptable realm for such intensity.  Though truth be told, most in our post-modern culture are misdirected regarding passion in that realm too!

Here in the gospel of John, the story of Christ decidedly begins with passion.  Jesus’ upsurge of intense energy that will not allow the house of God to continue to be desecrated.  It might be helpful to point out a few things about the context of Jesus’ act.  First, it was Passover.  The annual festival when Jesus and his people celebrated freedom from the Pharaoh.  Release from the bonds of Egypt.  When God saw the people miserably enslaved for the benefit of the Pharaoh’s economy, God found Moses.  Ardently consuming a bush that was not burned up, the LORD declared:  “Go to Pharaoh to let my people go!” (Exodus 3).  Passover was the annual institution for a free people to remember and rejoice!  God delivers in order for a liberated people to give great thanks.  In order for a people to be an alternative light to all the nations.  Imagine the affront to such freedom the buying and selling of animals caused.  The exchange of the emperor’s money inside the Temple gates in order for the annual Temple tax to be paid by every Jew of the nation.  Of Jesus and the money-changers, one author writes:  “had the traders been confined to the streets around the Temple, all would have been well.  The (Jewish) Talmud records that a certain Babha Ben Buta had been the first to introduce 3,000 sheep of the flocks of Kedar into the Court of the Gentiles.  His profane example was eagerly followed, until in Jesus’ day the stench and filth of the flocks of penned sheep and oxen filled the air as they were bargained for by the traders and visiting pilgrims.”  Thus, the author continues, “Jesus made a whip of cords and drove them all, including the cattle and sheep, from the Temple area.  To those who sold doves he said:  ‘Get these out of here!  How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!’” (Robert Backhouse, The Kregel Pictorial Guide to the Temple, 1996; p. 22).  What God has made free, let none re-enslave!

It also might be helpful to know the layout of Herod’s massive Temple.  The Second Temple, which was even grander than the First Temple built by King Solomon that ended up destroyed when the people were exiled by the Babylonians.  Nearly six hundred years later, the Second Temple was the expanded spot for God’s people to gather.  Imagine something like a massive medieval cathedral with an exterior wall enclosing 36 acres on “the top of the hill on which the city stood” (Ibid., p. 12).  That’s like four times bigger than the entire building and property of this congregation.  The Temple expansion Herod began in 19 B.C. finally was completed in 64 A.D. – thirty-some years after Jesus’ resurrection and a handful of years before Rome destroyed forever all but a portion of the Western-facing wall.  Around an impressive edifice in the center of the 36 acres, stood a four-and-a-half-foot wall called the Wall of Partition.  At the punishment of death, only Jewish men or women could traverse it.  One author describes what was found inside:  “Passing within the Wall of Partition, a flight of 12 steps led up to an area 9 feet higher, where the Women’s Gate and the Gate of the Pure and Just gave access to a paved court known as the Court of Prayer.  At the end of this court, on a semi-circular raised dais, sacrifices and gifts were brought to be presented to the LORD.  Beyond this was the Court of the Priests, with its great altar of sacrifice and brazen laver for the ceremonial washing of priests.”  The description includes that:  “The porch led into the Sanctuary itself, compromising the Holy Place and the Holiest Place.  Inside the Holy Place stood the seven-branched golden lampstand, the table of showbread, and the altar of incense.  The Holiest Place was about 30 feet square and 60 feet high and was separated from the Holy Place by a great curtain” (Ibid.).  Outside these inner sanctums, sprawled a massive courtyard all the way to the edge of the 36th acre with a thousand-foot in length Temple wall.  People from around the world were allowed to be in that part of the Temple in order to make their own prayers to the LORD.  It was there, in that massive Court of the Gentiles, where anyone from anywhere might have been able to pray – if not for the ruckus that had become the buying and selling of all things needed for a proper Passover sacrifice.

The gospel of John records the scene in the Court of the Gentiles as that which stoked the fervor of Jesus.  The place of prayer for all had become nothing better than a street-fair circus (with lots and lots of animals).  The site alone bursts the gates of Jesus’ guts so that a fiery furnace flares.  It’s easy to understand how this scene gets pegged as anger – as an enraged inferno ablaze among bleating sheep, wrestling cattle, and flapping doves.  Passion may be so unfamiliar to us that we cannot tell the difference between one who is in a rage and one who is utterly inspired.  Zeal puts us among the latter as a force far stronger.  Think of the one so on fire for a cause that nothing can stop them.  The one whose body and soul has come fully alive as passion courses like racing blood through every cell of their system.  Passion is less like out-of-control rage and more like on top of the world vigor.  Like the greening that returns to spring grass.  The zest that gets one moving – despite any obstacles.  I’m pretty sure it’s known in Jewish circles as hutzpah – gusto.  The bold audacity to get up to try again and again and again.

This is the energy recorded in the gospel of John as the surge of life that engulfs Christ’s body at the beginning of his public ministry.  Passion:  the fiery voice of One living fully alive among us that we might too!  . . .  Imagine the body of Christ today being infused with such zeal.  Coming alive to ensure justice for all to have enough.  Space for all to heal.  Welcome of any excluded.  Peace in every heart and home.  Whatever it is that alights our spirits as our deepest concern meets the world’s deepest need.  Then at last we will know the kernel of Christ’s intense energy.  The essence of his fiery fierce passion:  not anger.  But love.  Love.  Love enacted for all the world to see.  May his body today surge with this same zeal!

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2018  (All rights reserved.)