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September 2, 2007

Rev. Scott Swanson

14th Sunday After Pentecost - Jeremiah 2:4-13

Something strange has happened ... something that makes no sense at all. Jerusalem's neighbours, who worship gods that quite understandably do not really exist -- because false gods are not gods at all -- are loyal and faithful to their imaginary gods. Yet, the people of Jerusalem, the people of YHWH, the One who is truly God, who really does exist, are not loyal and faithful to their God, but have turned to worshipping one of the imaginary gods instead.

What makes this arrangement so strange is that these people have actually received good things from this real God - liberation from Egypt, safe passage through the wilderness, and entrance into a promised land. But the people have turned from YHWH and sought after the local gods that were just wood and stone and clay and metal and nothing more. It makes no good sense that people would do such a thing, and yet they did it.

"My people have committed two evils," says YHWH. "They have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and dug out cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that can hold no water." Not only have the people turned away from the real source of their life, they have pretended that they can survive quite nicely by their own hand, thank you very much. And so we have the first pronouncement of a lawsuit brought by Jeremiah on behalf of YHWH against Jerusalem.

Jeremiah seems to have caught on to a human habit that extends beyond seventh century Jerusalem: humans turning away from that which has the power to give real life, and settling instead for that which cannot provide real life, as the ego tries to fool the creature into believing it can do whatever God can do - and just as well.

I don't know about you, but I forget so easily. I forget a lot of little stuff: where I lay things down, the name of a person I've just been introduced to. Every Monday when I come in to the office, Kathleen asks me how my weekend was, and every Monday I have absolutely no idea, and it usually takes me at least 15 or 20 seconds to think of what happened. I also forget a lot of big stuff. I forget about God. I forget about trying to be present in "the now." Kim will tell you I forget to breathe, and that I'm not alone - lots of us forget to breathe. I forget I'm not alone.

I don't know about you, but I find that when I start forgetting that big stuff, it's almost like now there's a hole - a gap - and now I've got to fill it with something so I start creating something to fill up the hole. I start digging my own cisterns to store water in.

When I forget about God I have to make something up to fill in the space, which is usually my ego and so I start obsessing about my foibles and my limitations and how the world is not what I wish it was. And before I know it, it's all about me, which makes my ego very happy, but usually ends up making me not very happy, which means I try to start figuring out what I need to be to be happy ...

... So now I'm forgetting to be present in the moment because I'm to busy regretting or second guessing a past I can't change or worrying about a future that isn't here yet.

I don't know what happens to my physiologically when I forget to breath -- beyond the build up of lactic acid and CO2 in my body - but just on the face of the idea I'm willing to take Kim's word for it that it's not good for me. When I forget I'm not alone, I start thinking that somehow have to figure this all out myself. That somehow it's up to me.

I can see how God could get pretty steamed at this kind of stuff and start wanting to take people to court. Because the whole time this is going on and I've got leaky cisterns everywhere and now I have worry about whether it's every going to rain, and what can I do to make it rain - how, in other words, I have managed to completely make this all about me and my most immediate ego needs and basest fears -

The whole time this is going on I can imagine God standing there looking on saying," Um, excuse me ... can I? ... If I could just interject? ... I don't know about you but sometimes I need a summons before I shut up long enough to listen to what God is saying! ... hello, who brought you into this world? And as far as that goes, who brought this world into this world? Who brought you this far? Do you really think you got to this little moment of self-obsession all on your own? Do you really think the function of life on this planet is to meet your basest fears and ego desires at any price? Have I ever given you any reason to be afraid? Maybe the world has, but have I? Have I ever let you down? Have I ever given you anything but the purest, cleanest water?

Now here's a scary thought. What if I wasn't the only person who thought this way? Can you imagine what the world would be like if even half the population went around allowing their egos to set up situations where they started responding out of base fear and egoic need, and putting those needs first and just forgetting all over the place about all the important stuff, including the ground of being that is sustaining them even as they're forgetting about it and before you know it they might be worshipping somebody else's gods like a nice new pick up truck or a winter holiday every year, or a good stock portfolio, or the self help section in the book store, or their family, or the Montreal Canadians or whatever they think is going to make them happy and fulfilled.

I wonder what a world like that might look like? A landscape pockmarked with empty, cracked cisterns. Some people displaced as their land is dug up by others to find water for themselves. And the whole time the purest cleanest water was right in front of them. I wonder how the One providing that water would feel? Maybe like going to court?

Jeremiah was not well liked. People who point out naked emperors usually aren't. But sometimes it takes being brought up short in the payout of our own bankruptcy in order to be able to see the same world in a different way: grace upon grace offered free of charge ... rich beyond measure right here, right now ... the faithful Fount of it all giving us one to another ... as it has always been, and always shall be for those with eyes to see and ears to hear. World without end.

    Stranger Than Fiction

    you set us free
    from our addictions
    to stress, to money,
    to work, whatever -

      strange
      how quickly we forget
      and move back into
      those old neighborhoods;

    you stock our lives
    with that Bread
    which never goes stale,
    handing us that Cup
    which always overflows -

      strange
      how we think
      our shelves are always empty;

    you polish the Table
    till it gleams with your grace,
    you are busy all night
    preparing the Feast -

      strange
      how often there
      aren't enough chairs;

    we expect everyone
    to know us by sight
    and call us by name -

      strange
      how we haven't met
      those who just moved in;

    we assume you
    are just like us -

      strange,
      isn't it
      how we don't see you
      in the stranger?

(c) 2007 Thom M. Shuman

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