Be Awake to God’s Plan, The Rev. David R. Williams, Pentecost II--Year A--May 29, 2005

I have heard it said that if you live in the state of Maine, you enjoy four seasons: winter, still winter, almost winter, and construction season.

When the thermometer drops to 15 degrees and most of us dream of a trip to the Bahamas, people in Maine go swimming. At 0 degrees, the landlords in Maine turn on the furnaces. At 25 degrees below 0, Californians disappear and the people in Maine put on sweaters.

Weather can do funny things to us, evoking varied and curious behaviors…

The Old Testament lesson and the Gospel today tell us a great deal about weather or, we might say, their authors employ elements of the weather in telling a colorful, profound story of God, Jesus, you and me.

Obviously, Noah’s story involves a flood of water. We listened to an abridged version of the flood story this morning: “I am going to bring a flood of waters on the earth,” God says to Noah, “to destroy from under heaven all flesh in which is the breath of life.”

Why so? “The earth (is) corrupt in God’s sight, and the earth (is) filled with violence,” God says.

Last Sunday we heard an earlier story from the book of Genesis – actually, the very first story. We listened to the story of Creation. Your kind, compassionate Rector rendered a closed-bulletin test for the worshiping congregation. Everyone in the pews passed this quiz, by the way, and we are more well-informed to know that we were created on the same day as the cattle, three days after tomatoes.

More important, we learned that the Trinity, that early church doctrine, explaining the nature of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit, had roots in scripture long before the birth of Jesus.

God created human beings in that early story of Genesis: male and female, God made them, the first Adam – the first human being. The word Adam in Hebrew is the generic for human being, male or female.

After last week’s Creation passage and before this week’s Flood story, Genesis tells of the first children, Cain and Abel. We are introduced through Cain and Abel to themes of jealousy, greed and some of the fallen aspects of the newly created Adam. Cain spills the first blood as he murders his brother.

And so it starts: blood letting, violence, a troubled creation with a broken beginning.

God responds with a Plan. God chooses the next new Adam – Noah, “a righteous man, blameless in his generation.” The Ark is to be built. Noah then is to gather up his wife, his three sons and their spouses, plus two of every living thing – male and female – and cram them all into the boat.

God seems to be starting all over again with a new creation story. The waters rise. Listen: there is no mention of the rains in the story we heard this morning.

Here again is a story with two authors. One has the waters rising from the earth. The other author speaks of the rains coming from the heavens.

One author knows exactly when the Flood ends: in the second month, “on the twenty-seventh day of the month, the earth was dry.” The other author is more intuitive about the final days of the Flood.

What does the Flood mean for the future of humanity? The saved family will have a new Covenant, a new law. The Creation will be redeemed, and there will be a new bonding of people with their Creator.

One could say that this was God’s early way of cleansing the earth – a washing of the violence and the blood of a sinful Creation.

been preaching to the people of God. His sermon, delivered from a mountain, speaks of that same Covenant given to Noah. Years, centuries, thousands of years have passed, and still the blood of God’s people flows.

Jesus talks about the weather, and we see the image of a house.

“The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell – and great was its fall!” Jesus says.

In the time of Noah, this is exactly what happened – rains, floods, winds. Many houses fell.

What a way to end a sermon. Jesus has been giving his listeners some tantalizing clues about understanding God.

Moreover, Jesus gives his listeners a way to respond to God’s goodness! Jesus gives them action words: “Blessed are the poor in Spirit…Blessed are those who mourn…Blessed are the meek…If you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment…Do not resist an evildoer…But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also… I say to you, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

This newest Adam, the one we know as Jesus, calls God’s people to a profound new awareness of God. As the writers of Genesis, we are helped to understand through the images of weather – wind, rain, water and sunshine.

Jesus speaks of these same powers of nature, but he composes two kinds of houses, two foundations: one foundation on sand, one foundation on rock.

During the construction season in Maine, the builders cut no corners, and the builders do not build their foundations on sand. They prepare for the three seasons of winter ahead.

The Pentecost season is the “construction” season for our faith. We can sit on our arks and contemplate the world around us – counting the blessings we have and staying awake to the promised dry land. As Noah’s family, we shall be asked to be fruitful and multiply, armed with the divine Covenant of our Lord.

Biblical Scholar Robert MacAfee Brown says about the scripture story, “The fatal error is to read the Bible as a spectator rather than as a participant, to make the faulty assumption that we can sit in a box seat watching the drama when actually we are the stage taking part in the drama.”

The spiritual, the religious, the faith foundation we develop in and a part of our own hearts and souls is the foundation exposed to the natural elements of wind, rain, flood, storm – exposed to the temptations, the violence, the brokenness.

A story is told of a young nun who desires knowledge of holiness and God. She inquires of the abbot what she has to do.

The abbot’s answer: fasting, penances, long vigils, hospitality, daily work and prayer that are never-ending. For years, the nun dutifully applies herself to the routine and the discipline, becoming adept, but not feeling holy or seeing God.

After many years she returns to the Abbot and asks why she isn’t holy. The abbot answers: “You can do nothing to make yourself holy. It’s like the sun rising each morning. What can you do to make the sun rise?”

She unhesitatingly says, “Nothing.”

“You are right,” answers the Abbot.

After a few moments, she has another question: “Then why, if I can do nothing to become holy, do I perform all of these fasts, long prayers, vigils, work and penances?”

The Abbot looks at her and smiles. “Because, my dear, at least when the sun comes, you will be awake and you will catch its first warm rays upon your face.”

It is when the light of understanding begins to dawn that the creative power of the Spirit has the opportunity to enlighten us in the moment. When we listen, then we can get to work.

“The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.”

Amen.