“Dreams” a sermon based on Psalm 126 and Matthew 6:25-33 Thanksgiving Sunday October 10, 2015

It seemed like a dream, too good to be true,   when God returned Zion’s exiles.
We laughed, we sang,  we couldn’t believe our good fortune.
We were the talk of the nations—  “God was wonderful to them!”
God was wonderful to us; we are one happy people.

And now, God, do it again—   bring rains to our drought-stricken lives
So those who planted their crops in despair  will shout hurrahs at the harvest,
So those who went off with heavy hearts will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.

                                                                                                                        (The Message)

Matthew 6:25-33

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” (The Message)

Several years ago, I did a Jewish-Scottish Presbyterian wedding. A Jewish friend had converted to Christianity and become and Anglican priest. His conversion was a very sore point in his family, and although he could have done the ceremony, he decided a different minister was better. I worked hours, crafting a wedding service which incorporated elements ofboth Jewish and Christian weddings. After the ceremony was over, an elderly Jewish man came to me with tears in his eyes, irate because I had not related the story of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, which should be in all Jewish weddings, he said.

The Babylonian exile, approximately 550 years before Jesus’ birth, is the period in Jewish history during which members of the ancient Kingdom of Judah were captives in Babylon. Here’s the brief version. King Nebuchadnezzar attacked Jerusalem, forcing tribute from King Jehoiakim. In the fourth year Jehioakim decided to stop paying – this led to another siege, exile and the destruction of the temple and Jerusalem. After the Persian king Cyrus the Great took Babylon, the exiled Jews were allowed to return to Judah. According to the Book of Ezra, construction of a second temple in Jerusalem began around this time. All these events are part of the greater historical narrative which has formed the Jewish identity. 
 
However, the return of the exiles was not a big exodus, but was stretched out over several years. Many did not live to return to Judah, some had never even seen it.

So we have a ‘Pilgrim Song’, in two parts: Part 1 the first group of exiles has returned to Jerusalem. It seemed like a dream, they said – God set us free to return to Zion. Nations spoke of how we were simply let go. Our God was good to us, our dreams had come true, we were finally freed to go home.
Then the tone of the song changes; God is called upon to do it again. Bring the rest of them home, those who are still dreaming about a life of freedom. Those who left in tears of lament will return with tears of joy.

Now, the exile was long enough that some had never been to Jerusalem. Yet they dreamed too –  they would go back to Judah,  rebuild the temple, to begin a life in their ‘home’, even though the only home they had known was in Babylon.

Listen to another song of lament, in Psalm 137:  ^“We were sitting by the rivers of Babylon.  We wept when we remembered what had happened to Zion. On the nearby poplar trees we hung up our harps. Those who held us as prisoners asked us to sing. Those who enjoyed hurting us ordered us to sing joyful songs. They said, “Sing one of the songs of Zion to us!”

How can we sing the songs of God while we are in another land? Jerusalem, if I forget you,
may my right hand never be able to play the harp again. If I don’t remember you, may my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth so I can’t sing. May it happen if I don’t consider Jerusalem to be my greatest joy.”

So God has brought home some of the exiles, who laugh and sing – it was the one thing they had dreamed about, going back home. They were a happy people. But there were those left behind  – those who still were weeping. That grief was passed on to generations who never knew Jerusalem. “If only”. They said “If our God had only saved us, it would have been enough.” It wasn’t enough. There were more ‘if onlies’ - if only we had the temple back, if only we were in Jerusalem, everything would be better….lament and grief. God’s song forgotten.

So Part 2 of this Psalm is a supplication/command, for God to bring the rest home – those who planted crops in Babylon weeping in grief would return with harvests of joy, dancing and singing. Rain on the parched lives of those who were still not home, and rain on the parched lives of those who waited for the rest.

Rev. Margaret Bain, who taught the Interim Ministry course which I took a couple of weeks ago, told the story of an old basket, sitting empty in her garage. Her son, while cleaning, asked if he could throw it out. She said no, and when he asked why, she said her mother – his grandmother – had emigrated to Canada from Finland in 1912, and brought all her worldly possessions in that basket. Everything she owned. And her son replied “Then we keep it.”

And butting up against that text is Matthew. But I wonder if Jesus is speaking not to those who have had the experience of exile, but speaking to the people who have no idea what that was like for their ancestors. They have an emotional connection – Zion as a state of emotion – but no real understanding. Jerusalem is a place, and Zion the state of mind. They repeat, time after time after time down through generations, the story of the destruction of the temple, the exile to Babylon, and the return to Zion. And then there they are, generations later, still worrying about where the food comes from, whether or not they have the right clothing, or the latest jewelry, or the best homes, or a good horse to ride. And Jesus says “Wait a minute? Aren’t you people of God? Where is your faith”

How about us today? All of us are immigrants to this land in one way or another. Some know the fear of just running from religious or political or economic persecution; some saw and endured horrendous things. Some had to get on the first ship out with the clothes on their backs; or trek through other countries till a port and a ship could be found, and escape discovery. Some made a conscious choice to give up everything, and come here with a basket holding their most treasured things. Finland and Norway were the poorest countries in Europe at one time; Ireland was another.

And today here we are, some of us descended through generations, some new Canadians. Some who have given up everything to get here, who still remember what exile is like, what running is like – and are grateful for their new life. Then there are some who came by choice, making a conscious decision to move. And then there are some of us who really know little about making such a drastic change. All of us have a life here, right now.

So Jesus isn’t addressing those who really are poor, or really are oppressed, or really hungry or suffering. Jesus is looking us straight in the eye today and saying “Can anything improve by your worrying about where the food comes from? Or if you have the most fashionable clothing? Or the best car? Or the biggest house? Think! Get out into the fields, look at some of the wildflowers – often not seen. Be committed to God and God’s initiative. You can’t extend your life by worry.”

Jesus is trying to get us to focus on what is really important. Not to worry about going back, not to get stuck in the dreams of what it would be like “if only”. Not to carry lament for generations, instead of learning to sing God’s song in a new place. Not to lament how our church has changed, but to sing songs of trust in God, even when the future is uncertain. He wants us to focus on giving instead of getting; focus on living in the here and now, focus on being God-centred, to lean into God’s initiatives in the world, to give in order that all of God’s people can have enough.. He asks us to focus on what we do have, and to sing God’s song in this place, outside the doors of this place, and in the world; not songs of lament for what is past and gone, but songs of Thanksgiving for what is, here and now! May it be so.

Sources:

1.      Wednesday lectionary study group.

2.      Harper’s Bible Commentary

3.      Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges

4.      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylonian_captivity