This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on March 17, 2019. It’s based on Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; and Luke 13:31-35. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson.
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
1After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” 2But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” 3And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” 4But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” 5He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” 6And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
7Then he said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess.” 8But he said, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” 9He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” 10He brought him all these and cut them in two, laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. 11And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away.
12As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
17When the sun had gone down and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. 18On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.”
Psalm 27
1The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? 2When evildoers close in against me to devour my flesh, they, my foes and my enemies, will stumble and fall. 3Though an army encamp against me, my heart will not fear. Though war rise up against me, my trust will not be shaken.
4One thing I ask of the Lord; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life; to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek God in the temple. 5For in the day of trouble God will give me shelter, hide me in the hidden places of the sanctuary, and raise me high upon a rock. 6Even now my head is lifted up above my enemies who surround me. Therefore I will offer sacrifice in the sanctuary, sacrifices of rejoicing; I will sing and make music to the Lord.
7Hear my voice, O Lord, when I call; have mercy on me and answer me. 8My heart speaks your message— “Seek my face.” Your face, O Lord, I will seek. 9Hide not your face from me, turn not away from your servant in anger. Cast me not away—you have been my helper; forsake me not, O God of my salvation. 10Though my father and my mother forsake me, the Lord will take me in. 11Teach me your way, O Lord; lead me on a level path, because of my oppressors. 12Subject me not to the will of my foes, for they rise up against me, false witnesses breathing violence.
13This I believe—that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! 14Wait for the Lord and be strong. Take heart and wait for the Lord!
Philippians 3:17-4:1
17Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. 18For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. 19Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. 20But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. 4:1Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
Luke 13:31-35
31At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to [Jesus,] “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ 34Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 35See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ”
How much of our lives do we spend waiting?
We put our names on waiting lists; we sit in waiting rooms; we wait for the words that will define our next steps—the letter of acceptance (or rejection), the lab results, the verdict.
Sometimes we wait with a sense of agency—convinced that there are indeed things we can do, as we wait, that will improve our outcome. But often, I think, we wait with a sense of helplessness—feeling as though that for which we yearn, that for which we hope, is out of our control.
Abram, in our first reading for this morning, has been waiting on God. This episode takes place sometime between age 75—when God first promises to make a great nation of Abram—and age 100—when Isaac is born. Twenty-five years of waiting for God to make good on God’s promise.
Wait for the Lord and be strong, the psalmist advises. Take heart and wait for the Lord. But it’s easier said than done, even when we believe. Even when we trust God to shelter us, take us in, and raise us up. Waiting is painful.
I watched a brief interview with a mother in New Zealand who had been waiting—for four hours—for news of her son following the devastating mosque attacks. We’ve been waiting here to see if our son is alright, but he hasn’t answered his phone, she said. The police said just to wait here—my husband and I—so that’s what we’re doing, just waiting.1
Jan Richardson has written a blessing for waiting.2
Blessing for Waiting
Who wait
for the night
to end
bless them.
Who wait
for the night
to begin
bless them.
Who wait
in the hospital room
who wait
in the cell
who wait
in prayer
bless them.
Who wait
for news
who wait
for the phone call
who wait
for a word
who wait
for a job
a house
a child
bless them.
Who wait
for one who
will come home
who wait
for one who
will not come home
bless them.
Who wait with fear
who wait with joy
who wait with peace
who wait with rage
who wait for the end
who wait for the beginning
who wait alone
who wait together
bless them.
Who wait
without knowing
what they wait for
or why
bless them.
Who wait
when they
should not wait
who wait
when they should be
in motion
who wait
when they need
to rise
who wait
when they need
to set out
bless them.
Who wait
for the end
of waiting
who wait
for the fullness
of time
who wait
emptied and
open and
ready
who wait
for you,
o bless.
I think maybe even Jesus himself grew weary of waiting. Can you hear the sigh in his voice, How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! His love has been met with rejection. The love of God he has come to embody has been met with resistance and hostility. The love of neighbor to which he has called us has been replaced by a call to violence and hate by the very ones who claim to speak and to act in his name.
Are we willing even now to let him gather us together—all of us—rich and poor, black and white, Republicans and Democrats, Jews and Muslims and Buddhists and Christians—ALL of us gathered into the same circle of love and life?
Jesus doesn’t wait for us to be willing. He goes to the cross. He transforms an instrument of hate into a beacon of abiding love. His wings stretch out, on that cross, gathering the whole world in his embrace, all God’s children. He doesn’t wait for repentance, a change of heart. In the midst of a world utterly broken, he calls on God to forgive: Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul writes that our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory…Therefore, my brothers and sisters…stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
We wait with expectation. We wait with hope. Our humiliation will be transformed.
Jesus will not stand for the senseless slaughter of innocents in their place of worship, will not allow for hatred and division to have the final word.
Our Savior will not leave us alone in our waiting—helpless. Even as we wait for him, his Spirit empowers us now to wait with agency, to love now, to work for peace now, to do what we can, where we are, to stand firm in him.
In our waiting, God shelters us, takes us in, raises us up to be the body of Christ in a Lenten world waiting for the Easter victory of life, and love, and peace.
Take heart and wait for the Lord. The Christ comes as a mother hen, gathering her brood under her wings, a powerful voice speaking truth to power, a vulnerable voice extending forgiveness even in the face of hate. Safe and secure under her sheltering wings, forgiven and freed, we wait and we work for the day when all will dwell in peace. Amen.
1 https://www.cnn.com/videos/world
2 http://adventdoor.com/2011/12/04/advent-2-while-you-are-waiting/