About Time

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 14, Year A
August 9, 2020
 
Barbecue by the Pound, Ribs, and Chicken.  I pass that sign at Paulie’s Pig Out on my way up 151 to church just about every day.  It is quiet from Monday to Wednesday, but like clockwork, on Thursday morning, the sweet incense of the smokers wafts through the air, into my car, and reminds me that preparations for the weekend are underway.  It is the smell of optimism.
 
While many small businesses and restaurants are really struggling, Paulie’s Pig Out has the perfect set up for our times.  Everything, from barbecue to beans and taters to sweet tea is sold out the front plexiglass window in Styrofoam and plastic vessels.  From Thursday afternoon through Sunday, bikers, truckers, tourists, and locals draw near and feast.  I have been known to be in that congregation.
 
Barbecue is an amazing culinary phenomenon.  Just about every culture and region has its own version.  Some are partial to a vinegar and mustard base, others are into tomato and brown sugar.  Texans do brisket.  Easter Virginians and Carolinians argue about whether pulled or chopped pork is the appropriate preparation.  No matter, as long as someone who knows what they are doing, keeping the fire low and slow, and making sure somebody’s mama is out in the kitchen fixing up the sides, the best barbecue is a labor of love and the science of fire, smoke, and time.
 
The way we have measured time since last March has changed so dramatically.  With so many routines, rituals, and events cancelled, shrunk, or radically altered, spring and summer have been unusually disorienting.  Along with Barbecue, fireworks sales have been brisk since May, signaling that folks need to blow up something.  Pools opened late and some not at all.  But to be sure, when I smell Paulie’s sweet scent of the approaching weekend, this preacher knows that he had better be getting a sermon in shape and whatever preparations need to be made for Sunday worship.  Even in a pandemic, life continues to happen.
 
This business about the immediacy of life is a crucial point to which our bible lessons point this week.  As Saint Paul is writing to the Christ followers in Rome, he takes them to task, warning them against just waiting around for something big and holy to happen.  They are expecting a cosmic return of Jesus to set things right and welcome them as the righteous elect.  But Paul tells them not to hang out in that in between space.  He reminds them what Moses insisted: “The Word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”  The Word, now being Jesus, Paul points to the fulfillment of all they have been taught.  The saving work has already been done in the resurrection, and it is available not just for observant Jews, but for everyone.  He tells them to get on with it: telling the story, living the love, and practicing God’s generosity.
 
Matthew takes us back to Jesus and his disciples at a crucial time when God shows up.  Jesus puts the disciples in a boat and goes off for some solitary prayer time.  In the night, a storm comes and batters the crowded boat as the wind drives them away from safety, but at the end of the night, Jesus walks to them on the water.  Naturally, they are frightened and weary, suspecting that the shadowy figure is a ghost, but he tells them who he is and not to be afraid.  Peter, always a man of action with little thought, asks to walk on water too, but soon he realizes his limits and begins to sink.  Jesus pulls Peter in, gets in the boat with all of the others, and the storm and wind cease.  Then, they get it, again.  This Jesus is showing them who God is.
 
People often ask where God is when things get tough.  The original language used to describe the storm carries a deeper meaning that just a weather event.  The word for storm connotes the darkness of evil and chaos – a place where God may seem absent.  In this story, we get one solid response to that question as we see what God does with the chaos.  God does not hang out at the fringes.  God shows up, coming through the storm, getting in it with us, urging faith, and eventually, bringing calm.
 
If we take this to an even more symbolic level, the boat is the Church.  It is where we stick together and shelter from the storm.  While Peter’s faith is admirable, and we could talk about moving outside what is safe and comfortable, the point is that Jesus comes to him, comes to them, and soothes their doubt, confusion, and exhaustion.
 
We can relate to the storm-tossed disciples for sure.  We are in our own storm of forces we cannot control with a virus we cannot predict.  The temptation is to sit on the sidelines and wait it out, and bury ourselves in isolation or paralyzed fear.  But the power and presence of Jesus is not far off or remote to tragedy.  Jesus, the Word, is very near, right here, right now.
 
Like many, I was moved to read John Lewis’s last words published as an editorial on the day of his funeral.  I was honored to meet him once as he was a guest preacher at my church in Atlanta.  Like so many, I was amazed by his calm and authentic presence with everyone he met.  It is fitting that his last words were words of faith, saying:
 
“When historians pick up their pens to write the story of the 21st century, let them say that it was your generation who laid down the heavy burdens of hate at last and that peace finally triumphed over violence, aggression and war. So, I say to you, walk with the wind, brothers and sisters, and let the spirit of peace and the power of everlasting love be your guide.”
 
No matter our political persuasion, we knew John Lewis as a man of authentic and deep faith.  He moved toward what he called “good trouble,” believing that God was with us, and for us, in striving for good.  He helped steer the boat for many years, even with substantial headwind.
 
In considering what Emmanuel Church might do in the face of all of the world’s challenges, our vestry and regathering committee opted to get back together in as safe a way as possible.  What we have learned about how this virus spreads informs how we get together, but we know, as I have said, in our knowing place, that we need to be together.  We need to see one another.  We need to celebrate our life.  We need to share joy and divide sorrow.  If you need to remain at home, you are still part of us and those who are able will gather for us and with you in spirit.
 
The winds of change are strong even though everything may seem out of kilter.  Life is so different than we evert expected or could predict.  School is a big question mark.  People are divided, scared, and many are angry.  And still, we must continue to live our common life with purpose, patience, and great care for all.  As sure as the rhythm of the days, weeks, and seasons, life is happening, and we have now to worship, pray, and praise.  To mark each Sunday, as the Church has done for centuries, we will celebrate the feast of God’s goodness, God’s saving power and presence among us.  And while we are at it, we will feast with a substantial lovingly prepared sides of joy.  Amen.