Dear friends,
I pray this message finds you well. It’s hard for me to believe that it’s August already. With so much weighing on our hearts and minds as we look for school to start up again, I pray this 4-part series inspired by Rebekah Lyons’ book, Rhythms of Renewal, will be a source of encouragement to you. This week we focus on the rhythm of rest.
The worship service in its entirety may be viewed here:
If you’d prefer to listen to just the gospel reading and sermon, you may do so here:
The sermon is based on 1 Kings 19:9-18 and Matthew 14:22-33.
1 Kings 19:9-18
9At [Horeb, the mount of God,][Elijah] came to a cave, and spent the night there.
Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 10He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.”
11He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; 12and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 14He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 15Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place. 17Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill; and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. 18Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.
Matthew 14:22-33
[Jesus] made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side [of the Sea of Galilee], while he dismissed the crowds.23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
28Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
SERMON
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus.
Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead. He dismissed the crowds he had just fed with five loaves and two fish, the crowds who had sought him out when Jesus’ intention was to go to a deserted place by himself—a place where he could grieve the death of John the Baptist, weep, pray, sigh, cry.
Now, at the end of a long day of work—a day spent pouring out his compassion and healing on all those in need—Jesus returns to his original intention. He sends the crowd and the disciples on their way, so that he can be by himself to pray.
This is such a strange time in our life together, though perhaps what I’m about to say would be true even without a global pandemic making the situation all the more challenging. Some of us are likely desperate for more space in our lives. We yearn to be able to send the people around us away—just for a while. And it’s not because we don’t love them wholeheartedly. It’s because we know we need the kind of quiet Jesus sought out for himself—not just on this day but throughout his ministry. As Rebekah Lyons puts it in her book, Rhythms of Renewal, After many of his miracle-making moments, Jesus retreated into the mountains for solitude and prayer. On the night before the crucifixion, Jesus spent time in quiet reflection and prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Quiet was a part of his consistent routine—so how much more must we need it in our own lives?
And yet, there are some of us for whom this pandemic time has created an incredibly painful excess of space and silence. We’re isolated from family and friends. We yearn for the kind of connection we once enjoyed. The silence is pervasive, wearing away at our spirits relentlessly. We’re alone, as Rebekah says, with our thoughts, failures, hopes, dreams, wounds, and longings. For some of us, quiet can be the scariest place to go.
In the early days of this pandemic, I often walked in the morning with my phone broadcasting NPR news into my ear as I went. I started each day listening to the news, news that grew more and more unbearable as the days went on. And then, on Sunday mornings, I’d walk and listen to worship services broadcast, like ours, on YouTube. I needed that nourishment, yes, but I was also acting out of fear. I was scared to spend any time in silence, anxious about what might emerge.
Then, a little over a month ago, I started spending my daily walks in silence. Or, more accurately, I returned to my pre-Covid routine of spending my daily walks in silence. And in that silence, I could finally hear God.
Elijah, in our first reading for this morning, is enduring his own pandemic of sorts. God’s prophets are being killed and he is in grave danger. When God visits him in his hiding place, God isn’t in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire—not in any of these destructive, attention-grabbing events that could easily lead even the most faithful to hopelessness and despair. No, after the fire was sheer silence. And it was when Elijah heard that silence, that he was able not just to pour out his fear before God but to also receive a word from God—a word of promise and command, a word that offers this frightened prophet direction in the wilderness of fear and grief.
This is a wilderness time. We may be mourning the death of a loved one, as Jesus was that day when he sent everyone away so that he could have time to pray alone. Or, like Elijah, we may be fearful for our own lives. We might be fearful for the lives of those we love, for the future of our churches and our country and our world.
Earlier in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus says, Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. He says this almost immediately after praying with gratitude to God, the Father. Nurtured by his relationship with the God who has named him beloved, Jesus is able to extend that same kind of grace and nurture and rest to those in his care.
Jesus invites us to come to him, to receive rest for our weary spirits. He is the Shepherd who promises to make us lie down in green pastures and to lead us beside still waters. Jesus gives you rest this day, whatever that looks like in your life, whatever is it you need to be well. Jesus gives you rest—and nurtured by him, held in his mercy—you can extend compassion to others. Quietness, Rebekah writes, infused the way I related to others, enabled me to be a bearer of peace, love, and wisdom in the midst of chaos. In fact, the more I pushed into the quiet, the more I was able to connect with the people in my life and become a better friend.
There is rest for you this day, beloved, and in the chaotic days to come. In the silence, God speaks a word of direction in this wilderness, a word of promise for all this weary world. Take heart. Jesus is near, refreshed and renewed by the quiet he seeks out for himself. Do not be afraid. Your Savior comes to shepherd you beyond your fears, through restlessness into rest, through death into life. Amen.
*** Learn more about Rhythms of Renewal here: https://rebekahlyons.com/