This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on August 19, 2018. It’s based on Proverbs 9:1-6; Ephesians 5:15-20; and John 6:51-58. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson.
Proverbs 9:1-6
1Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. 2She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. 3She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, 4“You that are simple, turn in here!” To those without sense she says, 5“Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.”
Ephesians 5:15-20
15Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, 16making the most of the time, because the days are evil. 17So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. 18Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit, 19as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, 20giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
John 6:51-58
Jesus said, 51“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
52The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” 53So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”
You that are simple, turn in here! Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.
I’m not sure that’s the most gracious invitation. To accept it, to turn in, requires that I consider myself simple, without sense, in need of something more.
Earlier in Proverbs, Wisdom’s invitation is even more provocative: How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge? (Proverbs 1:22). To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live (Proverbs 8:4). Whoever finds me finds life…all who hate me love death (Proverbs 8:36-37).
You that are simple, turn in here!
Who has been the voice of God’s wisdom in your life? Where have you been invited to turn in and feast, to turn in and learn? When have you been encouraged to recognize that you need something more?
This week we mourned the death of Aretha Franklin. Honoring her legacy, President Obama wrote: Every time she sang, we were all graced with a glimpse of the divine. Through her compositions and unmatched musicianship, Aretha helped define the American experience. In her voice, we could feel our history, all of it and in every shade—our power and our pain, our darkness and our light, our quest for redemption and our hard-won respect. She helped us feel more connected to each other, more hopeful, more human. And sometimes she helped us just forget about everything else and dance.1
You that are simple, turn in here. Come and live!
Turn in and take your place at the table. Tune in and sing the songs that remind you who you are. Eat and drink. Sing and dance. God’s way is life for you, life for all.
Who has been the voice of God’s wisdom in your life?
A teacher? A parent? A friend?
A coach? A sponsor? A counselor?
Turn in here. Find life.
Singer/songwriter Carrie Newcomer has been the voice of God’s wisdom for me these last few years. In her song, Room at the Table, she sings: Too long we have wandered, burdened and undone, but there is room at the table for everyone. Let us sing the new world in; this is how it all begins. There is room at the table for everyone.2
You that are simple, turn in here. You that are burdened and undone, this table is for you, this food is for you, Jesus—the bread of life given for the sake of the world—is for you. Come and live!
I’ve heard Wisdom calling me to rest in the face of too much to do, to listen in response to suffering instead of trying to fix.
Put down your phone, Wisdom has called. Pay attention to the world right in front of you.
Yes, this is a time to speak out, Wisdom has insisted. No, this is not your fight, Wisdom has just as often proclaimed.
Come and live. Turn in and take your place at the table. Tune in and sing the songs that remind you who you are. Eat and drink. Sing and dance. Be careful how you live. Give thanks to God.
Yes, the days are evil, as the writer of the letter to the Ephesians puts it. Yes, there is so much sorrow and suffering, so much inexplicable heartache. Yes, scoffers continue to delight in their scoffing and fools continue to hate knowledge. Yes, Folly continues to compete with Wisdom for our hearts and minds, our appetites and our desires.
Just after Wisdom’s invitation, the book of Proverbs describes Folly’s invitation, calling to those who pass by, who are going straight on their way, “You who are simple, turn in here!” And to those without sense, she says, “Stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.” But they do not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol.
The way of God is life. The Wisdom of God is life.
Life for you. Life for the world.
Folly’s invitation might sound and look and feel, momentarily, just like Wisdom’s invitation. And we might be easily convinced to turn in, to feast on what appears to be life but ultimately is only death; what appears to be love, but is actually only using us; what appears to be joy, but leaves us feeling spent and weary.
The way of God is life. And perhaps the most gracious invitation we can receive is the one that acknowledges we need a Savior.
You that are simple, without sense, in need of something more, come and live. You that are burdened and undone, come and live. Sing psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs. Give thanks to God. In Christ, is the life, the love, the joy that is real. For you. For the world. Turn in here. Amen.