“Write the Vision”
“Write the Vision”
Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost, October 2, 2022
Lamentations 3:19-26 Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4 Luke 17:5-10
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Pastor Andy Kennaly
Remember those old cartoons, the pen and ink ones from Looney Tunes, with Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck, Elmer Fud, and Daffy Duck? Those characters would get into situations. They’d need to decide on how to act. Suddenly, on one of their shoulders would appear a small version of themselves in the form of an angel, while on the other shoulder another small version of themselves in the form of the devil. Each one would lean in and tell that character what they should do. Of course, the angelic one had good intentions while the devilish one tended toward trouble.
While Looney Tunes are a whimsical way to portray this, real life is often a mind game in similar ways. This morning’s reading from the Hebrew Bible’s book called Lamentations brings us there right away as thoughts of affliction and homelessness are equated with “wormwood and gall,” which involve bitterness down in the depths of our gut. Lamentations is a book of laments, poems written to express the pain of exile and the destruction of Jerusalem by the Neo-Babylonians in 586 BCE. Almost 600 years before Jesus, people wrestled in soul-bending bouts between negative spirals and the mercies of hope. There is give and take between the soul and the mind as thoughts emerge, get assessed, and determine outcomes. The better self, that angelic side, is rooted in a larger Self, so even when ones’ soul is lamenting with bitter thoughts, those deeper roots tap into a more sure and certain hope: “the steadfast love of the LORD [who] never ceases, [whose] mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning” because God’s faithfulness is great.
The soul has a voice in this passage. But what is a soul? How do you define what a soul is? What is your soul? It seems that a soul involves the lifeforce within us. Our soul is a gift from God, sustained by God, because it is eternally divine. The author of this poem in Lamentations puts it this way, “‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in God.’” God Almighty is the soul, the portion, and hope is in God. This is very different than Empire Religion telling us that our soul is opposed to God and needs saved from God’s wrath.
People who say the Old Testament is filled with a violent, angry God, obviously haven’t looked at the Hebrew Bible’s poetry, nor read Lamentations that claim the True Self hidden in Christ with God, that “the LORD is good to those who seek [and that] it is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” Presbyterians and other Christians are not very good at waiting. We prefer talking and cognitive thought and systematic theologies, doctrines of oppression, and architecture that emphasizes holy spaces apart from everything else, and professional clergy elevated above, often in A-frame structures with focal points at the front of neatly organized rows, rather than empowered inner experience of equality in touch with our Essence, individual and shared, the depth of soul rooted in God’s Presence within. Not only within us but within all things. It’s from this source that mercies are new, that hope has real possibility.
The passage from Habakkuk also invites us to wait. A vision will come, though it may tarry, which means a patient lingering, and thus the waiting. We are told to “write the vision: make it plain on tablets, so a runner may read it.” That’s how news spreads in ancient times, runners sped messages and they moved with efficiency. That’s how we ended up with marathons.
Both passages have the authors in terrible situations, surrounded by destruction, violence, strife, and contention. Even the law is unable to shape life in healthy ways and all that comes is perverted justice, skewed and bitter and making things worse. The proud use their power but “their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith.” Something in the abyss still holds, God’s love is within the infinite depths.
In Luke, Jesus points out to his disciples the absolute absurdity of measuring faith as if it is quantifiable. He mentions the slaves and gives a story of a master with power over that slave. Systems holds power and they use full force and might. Slaves are subject to these systems. Jesus confronts a religious system that perpetuates exclusion. He’s trying to wake up his disciples to the importance of authentic spiritual transformation, otherwise, they are slaves and simply follow orders as their deeper humanity is denied. Jesus is calling all of us to wake up to our deeper humanity. This involves unity with everything, and even trees are connected at a soul level of faithful righteousness. He speaks through analogy and hyperbole, but his message is nothing less than a satire on what people have come to tolerate and assume is normal, even as he challenges followers to trust their inner experience to discover deeper meaning, as deep as the sea.
My recent article in the Daily Bee was about Peace. When I submitted my article, I used a couple writing disciplines as I wrote about a vision of peace. Each of the five paragraphs started with a letter from the word PEACE. P-E-A-C-E.
Biblical writers use similar techniques. Lamentations has five poems of lament, each one is an acrostic. Lines start with an orderly progression throughout the Hebrew alphabet. Chapter three, with we read this morning, has even more intensity as each line of the three-line stanzas starts with the alphabetical progression, so it’s very intense in quality. It would be like, a-a-a in the first stanza, b-b-b in the second stanza.
Most people don’t notice that, just as most didn’t notice my article about peace framed as peace, holding peace in the very structure. These are very subtle. God’s love has a subtle quality that is easily missed, especially in the throws of challenges. It is easily dis-missed by people who prefer listening to other voices, or the familiarity of the system, rather than trusting the roots in their better self.
Faith changes everything. It opens us to the abyss, the bottomless infinity of Love, where we can lean into love without fear. Faith frees us from blind obedience and perverted justice to trust God’s larger purposes and prevailing power.
May we have eyes to see and ears to hear the unending, soul-shaping mercies of God, new every morning. Amen.