Wadhams United Church of Christ
2569 County Route 10, Wadhams, NY 12993
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Sermon by Steve Smith          Order of Service

Immanuel’s Table      

April 6 , 2008        

          I was driving the other night, listening to the radio, indulging in a pastime that I seem to have become quite fond of lately: yelling at the radio. The first time it happened, I was listening to the business portion of the National Public Radio broadcast. It’s not that I’m particularly interested in the world of high finance; it’s more a matter of not being able to pull in too many other signals. Anyway, the nice man on the radio was doing a piece about a recent hire by the Bank of America. They made a strategic decision to hire a new person to head up their mortgage and credit division, and they had managed to snare one of the biggest names in the field. Are you ready for this? They hired the former CEO of Countrywide. You know Countrywide: they were among the most hard hit by the current mortgage meltdown. It’s heartening to see that the industry takes care of its own.
         A bit later, the news was all done, and I had managed to pull in a Contemporary Christian music station, when I found myself yelling at the radio again. It’s a strange picture, isn’t it? You’ve got an easy-going guy who’s a pastor, and he’s yelling at the Christian artists on the radio while he’s busy pounding on the steering wheel in frustration. I know, you’re probably thinking to yourself, “This guy’s got anger management issues!” On the serious side, though, what you should be saying to yourself is this: what did the nice Christian people on the radio do or say or sing to make our meek and mild-mannered pastor so angry?
         I listen to a fairly wide variety of music, and something that frustrates me is when the composing artist uses the same exact words over and over and over again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m accustomed to the idea of a chorus, which you might repeat at the end of a verse, but what I object to is when they repeat the exact same words not just five times, or ten times, or even twenty times, but up to sixty or seventy times. I’m not exaggerating, either, because I once counted the same phrase in a song being repeated 67 times, not counting the echoes and fades of those words going on in the background. I’ll tell you what, if you come up to me and repeat the same exact phrase that many times in a span of four minutes, I’m going to start avoiding you when I see you coming.
         So I was yelling at the nice people on the radio and pounding the steering wheel because the composer had taken a perfectly wonderful phrase and successfully obliterated any interest I had in listening to more of the same thing. Here was the phrase, and again, I love the modern interpretation of an ancient theme: “Everywhere I go I know you’re not far away; you’re right here, you’re right here.” Once I turned the radio off and took a few chill pills, I cleared my head by trying to turn things around a bit. In my subjective view, the artist was demonstrating a lack of creativity by resorting to repetition to fill the body of the song. It would have been far more powerful and inspirational for me, personally, if they had taken some time and effort to take that phrase and turn it around in twenty or thirty ways, or even five or ten ways, to see what that might look like in day to day life.
         But then, they’re the ones making the big bucks as nationally known Christian artists, and I’m just a grumpy middle-aged pastor who might even feel slightly envious of their success. While I might not be able to single-handedly change the course of Christian hymnody, I can stop and fiddle with someone else’s success. So what would that phrase look like if we took it and turned it around to see what it might look like in your lives and mine? “Everywhere I go… I know you’re not far away… you’re right here.” The psalmist gives us a good start on our theme: Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
         “Everywhere I go,” sings our modern psalmist. Whether we are lifted up into the very glories of heaven itself, or whether we are flung down into the deepest pit of despair in life, there is no place that we can go where we will be separated from our God. Whether we experience the euphoria of knowing that we are with God, or whether we are sucked down into the vortex of our distorted thinking that God has somehow abandoned us or left us completely and utterly and devastatingly alone, God will be right there with us. While we might want to believe this, and want very much to be free of the doubts and fears that assail us, we sometimes feel like we’re somehow stuck between the dead finality of the Good Friday tomb and the lively vitality of Easter’s resurrection.
         When I get into a really dark frame of mind, I can sometimes be heard to mutter something like this: “Why is it that I have to be dead before I get to see all the good stuff? Why is it that I can’t see occasional glimpses of the glories and the victories of the resurrection before they lower my coffin into the ground?” For me, this is where my faith meets up with the rock-hard surface of reality. This is where the whole notion of Immanuel, God with us, either makes it or breaks it. It’s all fine and wonderful to celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus, God with us in flesh and blood, but what does that look like in day to day life? That, of course, is the same question we’re asking of our modern psalmist.
         Two gospel writers, Matthew and Mark, tell us that when Jesus died, the ceremonial curtain separating the worshipers from the holy of holies was ripped in two. The deeper meaning of this event is that there is no longer anything separating God’s people from the very presence of God. The ceremonial curtain serving that purpose was no longer necessary. If the death of Jesus transformed a limited way of looking at and relating with God, then what did the resurrection accomplish along those lines? From my perspective, it meant this: that God cannot be confined to a particular place, or a single unique individual.
         This new thing that God was doing opened the way to the incredible notion that God can indeed be Immanuel, God with us beyond the confines of our intractable problems and life-shattering events. While Christmas points to the reality of God with us in flesh and blood human form, Easter completes God’s vision for a new way of connecting with God. As a result, God can join with us when we have repetitious jobs or chores to complete, and that no matter how many hundreds or thousands of times we might have to repeat the same exact action, God will be there each and every time. From factory’s production line to farming’s endless chores to retiree’s repetitious schedule, God never departs from us.
         As a result of Easter, we cannot escape the presence of God by losing ourselves in the din of noisy productivity or in the mind-numbing monotony of a boring winter day. “Everywhere I go… I know you’re not far away… you’re right here.” If I rise on the wings of the dawn, the psalmist continues, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. Whether we rise early or late, whether we follow the restless energy within us or settle down in far away places, our Immanuel will continue to guide us and hold us close to the God who loves us that much. Whether we settle into a routine that’s familiar and comfortable, or whether we break through the responsibilities that have confined us and defined us, our God will never be far away.
         If I say, “surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. From the darkness of the womb to the nothingness of the tomb, our Creator is as close as a mother’s heartbeat, just as near as the shroud of heaviness that weighs our hearts down in times of grief or disappointment. For our Immanuel is no stranger to this life of ours: in times of pain or in seasons of triumph; in the strength and vigor of our youth or in the limitations and infirmities of our later years, there is no thing, no circumstance and no event beyond the reach of Easter’s Immanuel.
         From the darkest of nights to the most dreary of days, from the confines of the womb to the cloying stillness of the tomb, nothing can keep our Immanuel away from us. While we may not have eyes to see because of the darkness of our depression or the weariness of our labor, God is not defined by our limitations and will never be held captive by our distorted thoughts of how God is supposed to behave in this mixed up world of ours. Whatever we think, however we feel, whatever flawed or faulty conclusions we may reach as a result of our earth-bound ruminations, God will still be God, from the wonderful day we’re born to the weeping day we’re laid to rest.
         From the wild oceans of our stormy tears to the quiet solitude of a sandy beach, God has already searched us and thoroughly knows our hearts and minds; God has already tested us and knows all about the anxious thoughts and fearful fantasies we entertain as long-lost friends. God is already keenly aware of our offensive ways, and more than ready to extend forgiveness, mercy and the means of transformation. By hemming us in from behind and before, God has laid the hand of heaven upon us and called us friends. God’s design is not to destroy us with this wonderful knowledge, but to set us free to follow a better way. God does not exist to burden us with grinding guilt or suffocating shame, but lives that we too, may have life, and be free to live it more fully.
         “Everywhere I go… I know you’re not far away… you’re right here.” So when we have anger management issues or difficulty reining in the wild impulses toward vengeance, or profiting at someone else’s expense, or abandoning our convictions so we can be free of the constraints of our responsibilities, Easter’s Immanuel is right here, guiding us toward a life worth living. When the dull monotony of a repetitious schedule is pulling at the edges of our frayed sanity and leaves us feeling like we’re stuck in the tomb, Immanuel’s Easter would visit us to call us by name, and renew our sense of being loved by the true master of living.
         When our discouragement and depression have us circling the vortex of despair, and it feels like life is so overwhelming that we have nowhere to go but down, the dark curtain of confusion and painful interpretations of life’s events is torn in two by the sheer force of Easter’s Immanuel breaking into our downward cycle. When the enormous waves of grief or anguish threaten to wash us out to sea, Immanuel’s Easter is right there to speak the word that brings peace to the rising, writhing sea so that we can find ourselves safe in God’s everlasting arms.
         Because of Immanuel’s Easter, we don’t have to go looking for God in any one sacred place. In fact, everywhere we go we know God’s not far away; God’s right here, right now. Because of Easter’s Immanuel, we know that God will still be God even if we can’t solve all of our problems, and that the darkness of life’s most painful and difficult chapters are not dark at all to God, who is capable of guiding us through them with skill and compassion. When life leaves us feeling stuck between the dead finality of the Good Friday tomb and the lively vitality of Easter’s resurrection, when we are bewildered by what we are seeing, hearing, and feeling, Immanuel’s Easter comes to us to lift our gaze beyond our bewilderment to the wonder of Easter’s Immanuel right here with us.

Order of Service     April 6 , 2008          Back to Sermon
"NC" refers to The New Century Hymnal, The Pilgrim Press (1995)

Welcome, Announcements & Prayer Requests
A Candle for Peace NC #574 (vs.3)
Call to Worship  
Leader: Risen Lord, speak to our hearts this day. Reveal your word, and feed us with your wisdom.
People: Let your message of life and hope burn in our very hearts and minds and souls, that we might hear your voice and remember your promise.
Leader: Open our ears to hear the resurrection story with freshness. Reveal your purposes and promises to us and in us, that we may live as your disciples in this church, in this church and in the world.
People: Linger with us in this time of worship and as we break bread together at your table. Open our eyes, that we might see you standing before us in your resurrection glory.
Leader: Let us give our gratitude and praise as an offering to God.
People: Let us sing God’s praises with  thanksgiving in our hearts.
Hymn NC #237                   I Come to the Garden Alone
Responsive Prayer
Leader: Most Holy  God, you come to us not because of what we are, but rather who we are: your needy children.
People: Forgive us when we fall into despair or blindness. Forgive us when we cling to old, familiar ways, refusing or unable to see the new paths you set before us.
Leader: Forgive us when we have ignored your commands or forgotten your ways. (Silence) Give us new eyes to truly see you walking with us, standing beside us, and speaking through our friends and  even through our enemies.
People: God of Easter hope, grant us the courage to believe in your resurrection miracles. Give us patience to linger, to wait for you and hear your voice.
Leader: God of grace and mercy, we knew of your faithfulness yesterday. Assure us of your presence today. Remind us of your steadying power when the ground underneath us is shaking.
People: Carry our prayers to those who need the continued promise that you are the God of hope and wholeness, who rises in resurrection power above all that could lead to despair.
Pastoral Prayer, Lords Prayer
Hymn NC #345       Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
Psalm 130, 2 Peter 1:3-12, Luke 24:13-35
Sermon                                                                  Immanuel’s Table
Service of Holy Communion
Offering, Doxology, Dedication
Hymn NC #77                                                Lord, Dismiss Us
Benediction
Leader: In the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, we have remembered the many times when Jesus has poured out the love of God so abundantly and graciously.
People: As we have shared the love of God together in this sacred time, we now go forth to share God’s love with all.

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