Luke 18: 1-8; Jeremiah 31: 27-34

 

        Simon Wiesenthal in his book, The Sunflower, relates a discussion that took place at the Mauthausen Concentration Camp when he was a young Jewish prisoner.  Wiesenthal was sound asleep one night when Arthur, another young prisoner, grabbed him by the shoulder and began to shake him awake.
        "Simon, do you hear?"
        "Yes," he stammered, "I hear."
        "I hope you are listening; you really must hear what the old woman said."
        "What could she have said?"
She said ...'God was on leave.' What do you think of that Simon? God is on leave."

        "Arthur, let me go back to sleep. Tell me when [God] gets back." When Simon awakened he began to reflect about the conversation with Arthur and walked to find him. When he found Arthur, he questioned him, "What were you talking about last night?" Arthur replied that Josef, an honorable prisoner whom Wiesenthal highly respected, had asked an old woman if she had any news. The woman simply looked up to heaven and prayed, "Oh, God Almighty, come back from your leave and look at thy earth again."

        That statement got Wiesenthal's attention and as he reflected on what the old woman had said, he wrote: "One really begins to think that God is on leave. Otherwise the present state of things wouldn't be possible. God must be on leave. And he has no deputy."[1] 

        The year is 587 B.C.   The besieged city of Jerusalem has come under the domain of Babylon.  The temple built under Solomon’s rule has been burned to the ground.  The Davidic dynasty has ceased to exist. In the span of a few months, two treasured institutions-the temple and the kingship- have been destroyed.  Israel, now living the life of exiles in the foreign land of Babylon, has lost hope.  The exiled people feel as if God is on leave. 

        Biblical literature, especially the Psalter, reflects Israel’s somber mood:    

        “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept as we remembered Zion.  On the willows we hung our harps.    Our captors asked us for songs …but how could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”  (from Psalm 137)

        Or, remember these words from Lamentations that we considered a couple Sunday’s ago.  ”[Zion], (Jerusalem) weeps bitterly in the night, with tears on her cheeks.  Judah has gone into exile with suffering…and finds no resting place.”  “The thought of my affliction and homelessness is wormwood.” 

        A couple of weeks after the events of September 11, 2001, after she had attended nine funerals within a four day span and in anticipation of attending two more the next day, one New Yorker said to her pastor: “I am about out of tears, and in need of some hope.”[2]  

        Sometimes the grief depletes our supply of tears.  Sometimes circumstances rob us of hope and plant seeds of anguish within us. 

        The prophets’ words first delivered to exiled Israel now come to us.  Jeremiah’s words speak of the God who is grace-filled. God will sow within the people seeds of life. The Lord will watch over his people to build and to plant. The law will no longer be written on cold tablets of stone. It will be written now on the hearts of the people. A new, warm, intimate relationship with the Lord awaits Israel.  The dreadful days of the present will be replaced by a hope-filled future. 

        Scholars label this part of the ancient book of Jeremiah as the book of consolation.   But it is more than that.  Not only do these words console and comfort; they instill hope in God’s people, hope that anguish and trepidation do not have the final word in our lives. 

        After a medical leave of absence that lasted just over a year, my brother, Marc, returned to work two weeks ago.  On World Communion Sunday, he preached for the first time in about fourteen months.  In his sermon, he referred to his reunion with his church family as an “October Easter”.  As he said to his congregation, “A few days more than a year ago, when I underwent an unsuccessful attempt to surgically remove the tumor that had paralyzed my voice and threatened my life, I thought it was going to be a Good Friday October rather than an October Easter. When I came to from the anesthesia, the first eyes I caught were those of my sister-in-law, and since I am a very intuitive person, I immediately concluded, from her look: “Do I have weeks? Do I have months?” And she, I later learned, was only mirroring the discouraging report and distressed demeanor of my thoracic surgeon.

        Marc told his congregation, “I never lost a profound sense of the ineffable and mystical presence of the body, of the mysterious divine presence, always supporting and surrounding and sustaining me. I certainly had my moments of fear and doubt, but I never lost the sense that I was being held in the arms of [the]…Church.”

        The good news Marc received first hand is the good news exiled Israel was given and that we all are given: God never takes a leave of absence.  The final word is never one of despair but of hope.  There is available for us all an October Easter.  As the darkness surrounding us is penetrated by the brightness of God’s love, we have a future.[3] 

        There is a painting of an old burned-out mountain shack.  All that remains is the chimney...the charred debris of what had been that poverty stricken family’s sole possession. In front of this destroyed home stands an old grandfather-looking man.  Standing alongside the man is a small boy clutching a pair of patched overalls. It is evident that the child is crying. Beneath the picture are the words that the artist feels the old man is speaking to the boy. They are simple words, yet profound.  “Every thing will be all right, little child. God isn’t dead!"[4]

God is alive!  God makes empty tombs out of graves.  He brings the light of Easter into the darkness of death.   

        “I will sow within the people seeds of life…I will watch over my people to build and to plant.”

        Life!  Hope!

        Thanks be to God! 

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901 North Park Avenue

Dunn, North Carolina  28334-3241

Phone:  (910) 892-4121   FAX:  (910) 892-8312