Hebrew Scripture Reading: Isaiah 65: 17-25
For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the Lord—and their descendants as well. Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord.
Tom Hayden begins his book The Lost Gospel of the Earth by recalling how he used to visit the Steinhart Aquarium in San Francisco for inspiration. At the aquarium, he would make his way to the tank where the Chinook salmon would swim in circles. Their silver would flash as they swam, and Hayden would think of how these fish would swim thousands of miles to the sea from their freshwater spawning grounds until they eventually swam back up the river to die in the place “where they were born.” In the salmon, Hayden would see the beauty of purpose and determination. Outside of the tank, Hayden recalls how there was a sign that talked about the efforts to save the salmon by keeping them at the aquarium. The hope was that one day they would be able to return to their natural habitat in the Sacramento River, which had become damaged to the point where it was no longer hospitable for the salmon. The sign read, “Like the condor, the last of this race will disappear in captivity unless we save their habitat.”
Hayden goes on to recount how salmon have been “a sacred symbol” for many peoples. The Irish saw salmon as representing divine wisdom. The native tradition of the British Columbia tells of how the leaping salmon taught humanity to dance. The Yurok people of California ritualized the return of the salmon every year to a place that for them was the center of the universe. Yet, today this sense of the sacredness of nature recognized in these cultures has disappeared for many people, and Hayden is left wondering whether we will one day live in a world without salmon and thousands of other species. He wonders what will happen to the beauty and intelligence of the salmon. If they should die, he asks, “What will we tell our children…? What will we tell God when we pray?” These are the questions we must ponder and confront as “the salmon swim in their tank, awaiting our response.”
Hayden’s book goes on to call for the realization of the sacredness of the earth. As a sacred creation, the earth “inspires our awe and reverence.” People who recognize and respond to this sacredness treat the earth differently than those who treat it as a means to a profit or something one just picks up and uses for whatever one’s purposes. I have come to believe that realizing the sacredness of the life around us is a bit like seeing a movie with 3-D glasses for the first time. Before, everything was one-dimensional. A tree was just a tree. A squirrel was just a squirrel, but then, after one puts on one’s 3-D glasses, one starts to see life in a whole new way. Trees and squirrels become living miracles, and the entire earth becomes alive with a vitality and potentiality previously unseen. Both nature and humanity take on a new reverence with our 3-D glasses. We see the miracle of grapes growing on vines, and we see the miracle of children growing from infancy. In our scripture for today, God encourages the Israelites to put on some 3-D glasses as it were. God says, “Be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight.”
Our scripture reading indicates that God not only encourages humans to put on some 3-D glasses but God also invites us to participate in the making of miracles itself. Humans play an active role in God’s creation process. The Israelites are to build the houses they inhabit. They are to plant the vineyards that supply their fruit. That we would join in the creation process might seem like commonsense, but in a lot of theologies today, humans are simply spectators while God is the big magician in the sky performing all the miracles and Jesus is the star basketball player who everyone applauds and cheers from the stands.
You know, being from the great state of Illinois where basketball players grow as plentiful and as tall as the cornstalks, I used to be something of basketball player myself. I wish I could say I was a star, but in fact, I was one of those players who sat at the end of the bench. I rode “the pine” as they used to say, but that didn’t keep me from feeling like I was a valued member of the team. Part of the reason for this was that I had a great basketball coach: Coach Price. Price was a Baptist preacher and some of the best sermons I ever heard were his pep talks. I remember one team meeting in particular that had a big impact on me. My middle school’s athletic program was not flush with funds, so we held our team meetings in the boiler room of the school. Coach Price managed to turn this musty, mildew smelling room into a place pumping with adrenaline and excitement. In this one meeting, Coach Price was at the chalkboard writing down the name of each player on it. One-by-one the entire team then went through the list and called out what each player contributed to the team. I think for me they might have mentioned that I was capable of passing the ball or something, but they also mentioned that I hustled. From this, came a new role for me on the team. I was the one the coach called upon when we were trailing at the end of the game and needed a player to foul someone on the opposing team. I was our designated fouler.
This role won me a new nickname: Kamikaze. I must say it was fitting. In my missions to foul, I would fly uncontrollably into players on the opposing team as I tried to block their shot or steal the ball. In one game, I set a school record by successfully fouling out after only one minute of play. I might not have been the star of the team, but I had a role to play. I was part of the game plan, and in the on-going creation work of God on earth, each one of us is part of God’s game plan. Each one of us can contribute. Each one of us can participate in the making of miracles everyday.
Now, sometimes it is true that life can get pretty bleak and dreary, even if one is wearing 3-D glasses. Sometimes it might seem like life is running low on miracles and running high on trials and tribulations. In such times, one needs some glasses that are not only 3-D but also futuristic like the magical dream goggles. Sometimes one needs some glasses that have a strong prescription of hope. Through the lens of hope, one not only sees the sacredness of the salmon but one can also look at the salmon swimming in the tank and, at the same time, envision salmon swimming free in the Sacramento River. Now, some might say that the lens of hope isn’t realistic, but here I am reminded of a rabbi who once declared, “Realism is boring.” Too much so-called realism can also be dangerous for humanity because it throws in the cards before one has had a chance to play the hand. Moreover, it denies what has happened in history. Veteran journalist Sam Smith once wrote:
Those who think history has left us helpless should recall the abolitionist of 1830, the feminist of 1870, the labor organizer of 1890, and the gay or lesbian writer of 1910. They, like us, did not get to choose their time in history but they, like us, did get to choose what they did with it. Knowing what we know now about how these things turned out, but also knowing how long it took, would we have been abolitionists in 1830, or feminists in 1870, and so on?
When the Israelites in the time of Isaiah were wrestling with the shame of having been a conquered and exiled people, when they were dealing with the misery of hyper-exploitation, when they were wondering if life would ever be worth living again and were praying their laments to God, I think one day their poets and their musicians and their priests put on some magical dream goggles, and they started to see the world in a different way. They started to hear God speaking to them and saying all was not lost. There shall be “new heavens and a new earth.” Those houses that you built for your masters, soon you will build them for yourselves. Those vineyards that you planted for your oppressors, soon you will plant for your own families.
Let’s jump ahead a few thousand years but still before our own time. In 1850, a white woman named Frederika Bremer visited an African Methodist Church in Cincinnati, Ohio. This church of freed slaves was “full to overflowing.” Bremer wrote about how “the heads, feet and elbows of the congregation moved” in unison to hymns “amid evident enchantment and delight in the singing.” Without an organ or instruments, the hymns rose like “burning melodious signs from the breasts of the congregation.” Then, “the preacher mounted the pulpit.” He talked of the death of a member and her great Christian devotion. He spoke of the “thanksgiving-song as represented in so divine and grand a manner in the pages of Scripture.”
As he continued to preach, he addressed the question, “Is God with us?” He proceeded to draw parallels between the plight of the Hebrew people in Egypt and the plight of black people in the United States. Bremer wrote that he “boldly sketched out a picture of an enslaved people as oppressed in every way, but not the less ‘increasing in numbers and improving themselves.’” He then painted a picture for the congregation. He envisioned a bright future for them. With cries and shouts from the congregation, he declared they would purchase their own freedom. With more shouts, he prophesied that they would purchase land. With mounting jubilation and stomping of feet, he declared they would buy houses of increasing size and number. With louder and louder cries, stomping of feet, and clapping of hands, he proclaimed that they would build churches of increasing size and number. With the congregation in a frenzy of excitement, he announced that soon the rulers of the land would be terrified and wish that they be sent to Liberia.
This morning let us look beyond the suffering and war and poverty of today and look to a future where the poor own their own houses, where workers taste the fruit of their labors, where war is studied no more, and where salmon swim free. Let us put on our 3-D, magical dream goggles and look to the future. I know we are a modest and reserved UCC congregation, but if you can envision a brighter future I want you to stand on your feet and clap in thanksgiving for a God who is just and great! If you can envision a new heaven and a new earth, stand on your feet and clap! Stand and clap! Thanks be to God! Thanks be to God! Amen! Amen! Amen!