Epiphany 3, Year C, 2001

St Paul's, Bound Brook NJ

Reading: Nehemiah 8:2-10

This morning
in Washington D.C.
the leaders of this nation
are gathering
for the
inaugural
prayer service.
It is the last of the major public events
of the inauguration
and all Washington
will be there -
or at least,
all whom the inaugural committee
have deemed worthy.
There will be prayers
and hymns,
and a great deal
of pomp and circumstance.
It is a new administration, a new president,
a new beginning.
Today in our reading
we heard of another beginning,
a beginning
that's both like
and unlike
the inaugural prayer service.
This beginning, too,
is marked by prayer
this beginning
is attended by the leaders of the people.
But this beginning
is also different.

The people gather
by the city gate.
All around them
blocks of stone
are rose-touched by the dawn,
their color not yet dulled
by pollution and smoke,
and under their feet
crunch shards
of newly chiseled
stone.
It is a new city, or at least
a newly rebuilt one,
and the people are ready
for a new beginning.

God's voice had been heard in this city
once upon a time,
before the foundations cracked and the walls crumbled
and an army of strangers
invaded their land,
once upon a time,
before the priests were scattered
and the altar
torn down,
God's voice had been heard,
and they wondered if it would ever be
that God's voice could be heard
among them again.

Because the voice of God
was what had made them different,
the voice of God
had called them into being.
In the darkness of beginning
God spoke
and all creation
came into being,
in the darkness of Egyptian slavery
God called them
into freedom.
Even in the darkness of exile
God whispered
words of comfort.
But now they have come home,
and they need to hear
God's voice
once again.

No town meeting has been planned, no
priestly call to action,
just a community
aware of its need
for God
at its very heart.

And so the people gather
by the city gate - men
and women
and even children.
Waiting,
wanting,
to hear the voice of God.

They send a message
to a priest, Ezra's his name,
and ask him to bring the book of Moses.
And so he stands
on a rough-made
wooden platform,
and as the sun
climbs from the horizon
they listen to him read
of the things of God.
He reads,
and they hear of the birth of the world.
They hear of the call of Abraham
and the trickery of Jacob,
of the bravery of armies
and the foolishness of kings.
They hear of Joshua,
and Deborah
and Samson,
of Samuel and David
and Ruth.
They hear of love
and failure
of despair,
and of hope.
They hear stories and poems,
laws and songs and blessings.
They hear the voice of God.

And as they listen
some of them, who've studied the scriptures, Jeshua and Akkub,
and other like them
take time to explain what they are hearing,
to explain the difficult parts,
to see how God might have been
at work among the people.

They hear of the past,
of how God was with them,
and as they hear of the past, they begin to discover
hints of a future.
They hear
the voice
of God.

Of course, not everything they hear
is what they want
to hear,
not everything
they hear
is pleasant.
They hear
of the failure
of the people who went before them,
of mistakes and wrong decisions,
and of outright rebellion
against God,
and they weep
over their failures.
And they hear of the faithfulness
of the people who went before them,
of their prayer, and them taking risks,
and of their goodness
and godliness.

And beside them,
the people standing by the city gate that day
know that they themselves
cannot live up to those standards,
they themselves
are a muddled mixture
of good and bad,
faith-full
and faith-less.
And they weep
over their failures.
They have heard
the voice of God.

But the voice of God
is not only about failure,
the voice of God
is not only about sin.
The voice of God
is about promise
and forgiveness
and hope,
and so Ezra says to them,
"Don't cry, don't mourn, don't grieve. There's plenty of time for that.
But today
celebrate.
You have rediscovered
your heritage;
you have rediscovered
your God!
This community
is not just
a community of pain.
This community
is not just a community
of struggle.
This community
is a community
of joy, because
God
is among you.
God
has spoken to you;
go,
and celebrate!

A new beginning;
a very different kind of
beginning
from the one which has just begun
in our nation's capital. One which,
if we are honest about it,
has been surrounded by controversy,
from the election counts in Florida
to the confirmation hearings
of John Ashcroft,
from the crowds of supporters and protestors lining the Washington Mall
to the service of prayers
in a country which in paradox upon paradox claims
"in God we trust"
written across the face of the very money
in which we place our security.

Two kinds of beginnings,
and you too
are at a kind of beginning.
Interim periods are difficult times, especially when, like now,
you have a collection of stray priests helping out
with little continuity
or ongoing guidance.
Interim periods are times
when you have to face up to change - in the clergy,
in the community, and even
in yourselves.
As you think about the shape of this place
and the kind of priest
you need,
as you move on from rebuilding a town
after Hurricane Floyd
to reshaping this faith community,
you need to decide
what sort of beginning
you want that to be.

Will it be more like the inauguration,
following the schedule
because that's how it's done,
trying to minimize
or at least control
the inevitable conflict?
With the powerful people here in the church
and in the wider community
making the decisions
and calling the tune?

Or will it be more like what happened
in Ezra's time,
the community itself
re-forming
around the voice of God,
listening to the history of the people of God
through generations and generations,
in tradition, and in scripture,
and in the lives of people
here and now,
from the very youngest
to the very oldest.
Listening
for the times of failure
and the times of joy,
for mistakes made
and faithful decisions taken.
Listening for promises of hope,
and new things God might be calling forth
among you.
Balancing tradition
and change,
old and new,
and being courageous,
all the while
listening
for the voice
of God.

In a sense
the choice I've given you
is kind of artificial.
I've probably exaggerated the negative side
of political inauguration,
played up
its worst points.
But I know of churches
whose only model
in times of change
is politics or management theory,
I know of churches
who have all but forgotten
the God
at the very heart
of our faith -
not always
through deliberate action,
but more often
by the gradual marginalization
of the voice of God,
when scripture and sermon
become something to be endured,
and sacrament
an almost mechanical action.

But that's not the only way.
Following the lead of Ezra's time,
shaping yourselves
around the voice of God, listening for it,
can transform faith
and life:

Listening to the readings,
not just in church,
but reading them at home,
discuss them over coffee hour.
Finding out what the kids have been learning in Sunday School,
and seeing if that helps you hear God's voice.
Talking with your children and your grandchildren;
hearing what catches their attention
and might just be the voice of God.

Paying attention to the sermons,
wrestling with the words,
challenging, talking about them.
Finding one idea
See if there is something, one idea
that you can take away with you

Coming to the Eucharist, knowing that God promises
to feed us
in this holy meal,
and in feeding us,
to give us strength
to go out into the world.

Telling one another your stories,
of how your life and your faith have been intertwined. Looking for the
evidence
of when God has spoken
to you.

And praying together. Speaking
and listening
to God.

Hearing the voice of God
in this community
will most likely
bring change, because change is part of growth,
and just as we grow as human beings,
we are called to grow in faith.
But that change
is not something you need to be afraid of.
Because even when
that change is difficult
or comes out of great grief or pain,
God's voice will be heard,
Jesus the Immanuel, God-among-us,
will be known to you,
God will be present
among you.

Listen
for the voice
of God.

Raewynne J. Whiteley
21 January 2001