Isaiah 43:1-5,16-21
Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS
June 27, 2021
Has anyone else had this experience lately? You think about a friend you haven’t seen “in a while” or a place you haven’t been “in a little while” and in your mind you think it’s been, oh, 3 or 4 months since you’ve seen that person or been to that place. And then you realize you haven’t seen them or haven’t been there since before the pandemic and THEN you realize that THAT means it’s been at least 15 months. WHAT.
I’ve been joking throughout the pandemic that “time means nothing anymore.” I bet some of you have said this a few times in the past year, too, right? Is it Tuesday or Saturday? Was that two months ago or 20? Who knows? Does it even matter? We’ve all been so discombobulated.
The last time we worshiped together in this sanctuary was March 8, 2020. That was 68 Sundays ago. I can scarcely wrap my head around that. 68 weeks. Time is a funny thing.
A lot has happened in 68 weeks. And as we return to our building, we aren’t the same as we were in the Before Times. [1] We’ve lost loved ones to death and moves. And we weren’t able to gather together to honor those transitions the way we wanted to. Some folks we love won’t be returning to the sanctuary. New rhythms of life, changing spiritual needs, and some are continuing to worship online. We’re glad technology allows us to stay connected in that way. And we have new faces among us to! Those who found us online and those who are joining us for the first time today. We’re so glad you’re here.
And, yet, even as we are different….we are still who we’ve always been. We still love to laugh together and ask hard questions about God. We love church music in all its beautiful diversity. Some of us have been known to cuss while discussing the Bible...while others of us blush when that happens. We still rally around anyone going through a tough time - whether they need a warm meal, a hug, or a kind note in the mail. We still say “all are welcome” when we gather around Christ’s table for Holy Communion - and we really mean it. We are still serving meals, filling the Blessing Box, showing up at school board and city commission meetings to advocate for a more just world, and partying at Little Apple Pride.
We’ve changed...and, yet, we are the same.
Time is a funny thing.
Time is a funny thing in the book of Isaiah, too. Though it looks like it’s all one book, it was actually written over several centuries by a few different authors. The middle portion, roughly chapters 40-55, is where we are today and we believe it was written in the 6th century BCE by an unnamed prophet who lived in exile in Babylon. The prophet is writing to the Israelites in exile and offering them words of comfort and assurance, proclaiming that this difficult time is soon coming to an end and that return to their homeland is imminent. My guess is, those Israelies were a lot like us: totally changed from who they were in the Before Times while simultaneously still very much the same people they had always been.
And to these people who had been through so much, the prophet speaks a tender word about who God is in the midst of the hard times.
The prophet reminds the people who God is by calling to mind the mighty deeds of Yahweh in the Exodus. And Isaiah’s hearers – they knew these stories about God, just as we know these stories about God. But then Isaiah says something surprising,
“Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”
After introducing God by reminding us of the things God has already done, Isaiah tells us, “Forget about it. Don’t remember the old things. God is about to do something new.”
Which is it?
Are we supposed to remember the things of old or forget them? Are we to trust in who God has been in the past or expect God to do something new?
Yes. The answer is yes.
Lucy Abbott Tucker is one of the instructors for the spiritual director training program I’m in. And Lucy says that the ONLY time we can experience God is right now. She says that while we can remember what God has done for us in the past and we can certainly look forward with hope to what God will do for us in the future, the only time we can truly meet God is right now….and now….and now….and now.
And if we really think about it, that’s not just true for encountering God, it’s true for encountering absolutely everyone and everything. We can relive happy memories of the past or ruminate on our mistakes and regrets. We can look forward with anticipation to exciting things on the horizon or worry about what the future might bring. But the truth is our lives are a string of one now after another. All we have is now...and now...and now...and now.
The strange quality of time during the past 15 minutes has perhaps been trying to help us really GET this very thing. Time is a funny thing because it IS a funny thing. Our past, present, and future gets all tangled up together. We so often walk through our days with our bodies here and now but our brains and spirits a million years away. And so when I hear the prophet talk to the Israelites - admonishing them to somehow both REMEMBER what God has done while simultaneously FORGETTING it all because God is doing a new thing…..all I can do is laugh because it makes sense even when it really doesn’t.
Early on in the pandemic, I was going for a walk. Same route, day after day, 3, 4, 5, times a day. I walked for miles and miles and lots of times, I talked with God. On this particular day, I was quite surly. I cried and yelled at God (in my head, not out loud, fortunately) because I was feeling overwhelmed with, well, everything. I was ranting and raving at God, “I didn’t sign up for this!” and “This is too much!” and “I messed up yesterday and today isn’t any better and I don’t even know what tomorrow will bring!”
(I may have edited these prayers a bit because there are children present here today.) But you get the gist. It wasn’t pretty. There was probably snot running down my face.
And as I was walking and crying and snotting and ranting and worrying about the future of the whole darn world, I heard the voice of God say as clearly as if she were standing right next to me: “Wait ‘til you see what I do next.”
And just like that. The Spirit met me there. In that moment. In that now. And I felt all the nows of the past and God’s faithfulness in those moments stack up….not just in my own life, but in this whole long line of our faith ancestors who loved God with all their strength. The past touched the present and somehow connected to the unknown future, too. And God was present in all of it. And I felt peace. Deep, abiding, unshakable peace.
I couldn’t see what the world would look like in the future, but I knew, deep in my bones, that God was faithful and would do a new thing. “Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” And that whatever that new thing was, it was really going to be SOMETHING to behold.
Past, present, future. All bound up together. Held in the vastness of God’s love and care. Meeting us now...and now...and now...and now...and now.
Thanks be to God.
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