Rev. Martha Koenig Stone Haggai 1:15b-2:9

Twenty-first Sunday After Pentecost – 10/28/07 Psalm 145

Henrietta UCC II Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17

Have you ever had a time when you felt stuck—where there was no way to get out of a situation, no way to solve a problem you were facing, no way to change a habit that has become destructive, no way to accomplish the things you’d like to get done? It’s a common experience. Most people have felt this way at one time or another. It leads to expressions like “stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

But the hallmark of the biblical witness is the ability to hope against all hope—to keep looking for possibilities, even when none are apparent. It’s a matter of seeing the glass as half full rather than half empty, and of believing that God can fill up the other half. It’s a matter of having a vision of how things can be, and trusting that, in God’s time, they will be that way. It’s a matter of seeing the best in people, even when they’re at their worst.

The family I grew up in is known for its loud, raucous discussions of every subject under the sun. We used to sit around the table and go on and on, making grand claims and then analyzing them and finding all the logical flaws in each statement. We found it exhilarating and fun—we wanted to get things just right. But sometimes it would get on people’s nerves. My mother used to tell the story about how a family member came into the kitchen during one of these discussions and said, “Are you guys arguing again?” But my sister, who was about 4 at the time, explained, “They’re not arguing, they’re just discussting!” Already, at that tender age, she knew how to look behind the façade and get right to the substance.

Our faith encourages us to do just that—to look for God’s splendor, even in the midst of very ordinary human lives—to see the hands of God in the ways we love and care for one another—to see the possibility of repentance and redemption where others see only evil—to see the possibility of life where others see only death—and to strive to receive that life and to build on it and share it. We are hopeful people, not because we are naïve or stupid, but because we look for God’s action in the here and now, and because we have a vision of God’s future, even when we feel stuck in our own time.

Haggai had a vision of God’s future. His people had just returned to Jerusalem after years of exile. Their temple had been completely destroyed, and their spirits were likewise devastated. But Haggai encouraged them to rebuild the temple. He had a vision of a new temple that was even greater than the first. He knew that God’s spirit was still with the people, and that with God all things are possible. Haggai speaks in terms of treasure and wealth returning to the people. And yet, his words also remind us that our wealth is not our own, but God’s, something that is to be shared with all of God’s people.

Jesus had a vision of God’s future. He called it resurrection. He was part of a great debate among Jews of his time—between those who believed in the resurrection of the dead and those who didn’t. The Pharisees did, and Jesus was raised in that tradition. But the Sadducees did not. They saw no mention of it in their scriptures—the first five books of our Bible—and they saw the decay of bodies after death. They found all sorts of logical problems with the idea of physical resurrection, like the question about husbands and wives that we read about today.

But Jesus was not tied to ordinary ways of thinking. He didn’t let himself to get stuck in logical traps. He didn’t try to be too precise about life after death. Instead, he looked to God’s future, a future in which people’s primary relationship would be their relationship with God. It’s a relationship that changes everything, a relationship that relates our own time, today, with all time, forever. It’s a relationship that brings new life, over and over again. To Jesus, resurrection was a continuing reality, available whenever people could open their eyes to see God’s power in their lives, whenever we let our hands be God’s hands, whenever we participate in God’s work, creating a society of justice and love. For Jesus, resurrection was part of the broader biblical vision of the kingdom of God—a realm in which widows would not have to depend on marrying the brothers of their dead husbands in order to ensure their health and wellbeing; a realm where each person could be welcomed and respected and treated with dignity; a realm where everyone has enough and no one is left out.

What’s your vision of God’s future? And how does that vision affect your life? How does it affect our life together?

Our stewardship theme of opening doors is one way of expressing our vision of God’s future. At HUCC we have a vision of a community where children can come and be welcomed, where they can learn about the Bible and hear the stories of Jesus, where they can meet adults who care about them enough to spend an hour on Sunday morning worshiping and learning with them. We have a vision of a community that supports parents by providing care and nurture for their infants and children, so that parents might have an hour of peace, an hour to work on their spiritual wholeness, and companions to help them along the way. And that vision has become at least a partial reality in our church school and our nursery and our chime choir and the many activities for children and youth and adults.

But our vision includes others as well: young and old, singles and couples, gay and straight, certain or searching, strong and weak, born and raised in Henrietta or transplanted from other parts of the globe. We envision a church where support is offered in small groups to people with various needs and interests, and where each person is honored and embraced, a church where we can laugh and cry and play together (at game night, for example!) In our vision, we see ourselves reaching out beyond this community to other communities, meeting folks of other faiths and of no particular faith, providing coats for Burmese refugees, serving meals to people living in poverty in Rochester, building Habitat houses, and working for peace in our homes and our world, because we believe in God’s power to bind us together across barriers and divisions. We believe in God’s power to open doors we haven’t yet dared to approach.

We don’t know exactly what this will look like in the days to come. Who knows how many people will enter our open doors with gifts to share or needs to fulfill? Who knows how we’ll find enough seats and enough parking spaces for everyone on Christmas Eve? Who knows what ministries we will be called to extend beyond the doors of this church? On this Veterans Day, we wonder, when will there finally be an end to war? Yet our vision of God’s future compels us to learn and live the ways of peace. And when we bring our offerings and our pledges forward today, we are making this vision real, even if it is not yet complete.

“For thus says the Lord of Hosts:

Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land, and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendor…”

Let us pray. O God, may your splendor fill our lives and shape our vision each day. As we seek to open doors to your people, we ask for your guidance and love, that our hands may become your hands, and our hearts may be one. In Christ’s name, Amen.