The Rev. Linda J. Bailey, Interim Associate Pastor

DESERT PALMS PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
Sun City West, Arizona
From The Heart
A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Linda J. Bailey
June 6, 2010
Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills--from where will my help come? 2 My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. 3 He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. 4 He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade at your right hand. 6 The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. 8 The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.
Philippians 4:4-7
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
It is such a joy hearing you sing. It fills my soul. I’m reminded of St. Augustine who said, “To sing is to pray twice.” I think he was saying that to sing is to communicate with God twice as fully. Music enables us to worship God and to express our love for God with more of ourselves, with our heart, our soul, and our strength, as well as our mind. Music is a gift from God that leads to fuller communion with God because music has the power to free up energy from deep within us. In word and melody, music is the language of prayer. Let us pray. Loving God, filled with your spirit, made alive by your presence, we celebrate your new day. Empower us to fill the world with your song of love, hope and grace. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
The other day I read a story about a father and son who were vacationing in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The son was home from his first year of college. This was a chance for the two of them to go hiking and camping, to spend some quality time together, talking. On one of their hikes they came across what was left of cabins and some very old equipment that appeared to be left over from the gold rush days. They were intrigued; and as they explored further they found an old mineshaft. It was an exciting discovery. They wanted to go in but they knew it could be dangerous to enter such an old site. As they examined the interior of the shaft it appeared to be in reasonably good shape, so they decided to satisfy their curiosity and explore inside. At first they were cautious, but each step led to interesting discoveries, and before long they were so far inside that the only source of light was from their flashlights.
Their focus was on the artifacts they found. They were so excited to see pieces of history at their feet that they really didn’t think about the maze of shafts and tunnels they were wandering through. They lost track of time and suddenly one of the flashlights went out without warning. There was no flickering or dimming of light; it just went out. This startled the father, who cautioned that they should work their way out, retracing their steps. But when they tried to decide which way to go, they realized they had no clue which way was out. They couldn’t remember all the turns they took in getting to where they were. Neither father nor son wanted to voice their fears, but each was thinking that no one knew they were in the mine; and that if they were stranded, it could take a long time for anyone to find them.
Soon the beam of the second flashlight flickered as the batteries were giving out. They switched batteries from the flashlight that no longer worked, and were able to get a very faint light. At one point the father turned off the flashlight to save what was left of the batteries and together they prayed, first in audible words, and then in unspoken prayer. Gradually in the damp, dark stillness, they felt an ever so slight breeze. With the help of the fading light from the flashlight they followed the direction of that gentle current of air.
At each intersection of the shaft and tunnel, they would turn off the flashlight and stand in silence until they could feel the currents of the air and determine which direction the breeze was coming from. As they made their way back toward the entrance they eventually saw light. Father and son were covered in dust. They were shaken, but they got outside into the fresh air, and they were safe.
Like that father and son, there are times in each of our lives when we feel lost when we need to ask God for help and wait quietly for God’s direction. As Christians we are called to ask for God’s voice of comfort, hope and encouragement. We are called to use our voices to help others. Prayer is the essential expression of how God relates to us and how we relate to God. It is a gift from God, and our prayers are an answer to God’s revelation to us about God and God’s love for us. Yet sometimes, it is difficult to know what to say to God in prayer. Sometimes we feel self-conscious. We don’t know if we’re saying the right words. Sometimes our longing is so deep we can’t find the words to say. We have a longing that the world’s suffering might end, or that a loved one’s pain might end, or that our own burdens might be lifted, but prayer is so much more than words. Ghandi said, “It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.”
Jesus taught us not to pray to be heard or seen by others, but to get with God, to be present with God. Romans 8 tells us that when we don’t know what to pray for, the Spirit intercedes for us and groans with words that our words cannot express. God, who searches our hearts, knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to God’s will. Prayer changes things; more importantly, prayer changes us. It’s such a basic, intrinsic part of knowing God, of walking in relationship with God, and we have this remarkable potential inside of us, a potential that is realized when we remember Jesus’ words, “Follow me.”
As we sing together, like we did a few moments ago, the blending of our voices bears witness to the fact that we are made one in Christ. When we sing together we become one in offering praise to God. We become one in our faithfulness to Christ. There’s an African expression that says, “I am because we are, and only because we are, I am.” As Christians we need each other. Think how you became a disciple. You are here because another human being touched your life, mentored you, cared for you and told you the story of Christ’s redeeming love. Perhaps it was a parent or a child who said to you, “God is love.” Maybe it was a colleague or a friend. This is the way we come to know that we belong. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer and begin with “Our Father …”, we are naming the way we are saved, delivered as a group, praying together, living together, rejoicing, weeping, and loving together.
Sometimes we tend to think of prayer as a monologue, telling God how we feel, what we want, confessing our sins, seeking forgiveness, petitioning on behalf of others, or reaffirming our praise and devotion. But how many of us really think of prayer as an ongoing conversation throughout the seasons of our lives? As our intimacy with Christ grows, our eyes are also open to the other moments in life that are mysterious expressions of the truth of God’s loving grace. Eugenia Gamble says that when we turn to God in honest longing for deep and meaningful encounter, then God meets us in our striving. The Holy Spirit comes to us as the spirit of truth, the one who will remind us of all things that Jesus has told us. The more we gather around our stories in the presence of God, the more we are transformed.
Years ago I had an opportunity to live in New Zealand for three months, working as a writer and photographer. One of the famed races on the South Island is the Coast-to-Coast Triathlon. In two arduous days athletes travel from the rugged west to the east side of the island in a progression of events from biking to kayaking to running. Now, this race is nothing like the well-marked courses here in the United States. Athletes from all across the world are traveling across mountainous terrain that is not marked. It’s very easy to get lost and go miles out of your way. In order to photograph the race I had to cross the river several times on foot in a place called Arthur’s Pass.
There had been heavy rains just days before the event and the river’s current was raging. Each time I crossed this intimidating river my hands were up in the air so I could keep my camera gear dry. And each time I crossed the river there were two men on either side of me, holding on to me and guiding my steps so I wouldn’t be swept away by the current. I could never have crossed that river alone. Just as those men were guiding my steps, God is always there to guide each of us as we tend to get swept away by the strong currents of our lives.
In our passage from Philippians today, we are told in everything, in prayer and petition with thanksgiving, to let our requests be made known to God. Paul told the Christians in Philippi to rejoice. Remember that Paul wrote this letter from prison, waiting to find out his fate. With all he was feeling then, he told the believers, and he is telling us, to have joy in life. Our faith enables us to be a joyful and grateful people when we face difficult times of life. Thanksgiving is an integral part of the Christian life. A spirit of gratitude is not based on outward circumstances, but on an inward relationship with Christ.
Several years ago when I was training for a marathon, I went to a running camp in California called Tahoe Trails. Adults from all over the world came together for two weeks in August to enjoy the beauty of Lake Tahoe, to train together and share in fellowship. We represented a wide range of athletic ability. There were some serious athletes and coaches, but mostly there were ordinary runners like me. Some mornings I would run with a man named Andrew. He was a writer from Maine who had been blind for most of his life. We would run side by side, a few feet apart, holding a rope between us, keeping it taut. As long as I remembered to keep an eye out for any unexpected dips in the pavement or other obstacles that he needed to be alerted to, holding the rope tightly between us was a way that he could, in his words, run without fear. He could always drift a little as we ran, but as long as we kept the rope taut he was in touch with his base, which gave him the confidence to run past the edges of the familiar.
It was a challenge for me to keep up with his pacing because he was taller and a much better athlete than I was. We were running at altitude, but gradually my breathing adapted to the change in altitude and it became easier to talk while running. I would ask him about his life, and he began to share his faith journey. His blindness was the result of a freak accident. It was nobody’s fault. Although it had been difficult to make the transition to learning to live without his sight, as a result of his accident, many people came into his life. Through prayer and through these new friendships, he experienced a transforming relationship with Christ. It was through his blindness that he discovered his spiritual sight, growth in grace. Andrew went on to help others who, like him, had lost their eyesight.
We each have a story of God’s activity in our lives. They are the stories of wounds healed, hearts mended, courage restored, faith nurtured, relationships strengthened, barriers broken. As we face our lives and meet Christ there, he will come to us each day more deeply and lovingly. Prayer keeps us infinitely connected to the vine. The presence of God does not always dispel our fears, but prayer helps us to realize that we are walking with the Creator, while we are continually learning the ways of the Spirit.
Our passage today has long been one of my favorites because when we take everything to God in prayer, we can experience peace, hope and joy. All are spiritual gifts, rooted in an intimate relationship with God, the one who loves us with an everlasting love. Joy is the fruit of the relationship with God. It is the experience of knowing that we are unconditionally loved and that nothing can take that love away. Joy is based on the spiritual knowledge that while the world we live in is shrouded in darkness, God has overcome the world. Through Christ the way is opened for us to live in the world, not as victims, but as free men and women, guided by hope. Hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present with the deep trust that God will never leave us alone.
When we trust deeply that God is truly with us and holds us in a safe, divine embrace, guiding every one of our steps, we can let go of our need to know how tomorrow will work, or what will happen next month or next year. There are always signs of God’s love within and around us. Wherever you are in your life today, God’s love is there. Our text calls us to draw near to God, that he be a near and present reality. It’s an invisible act of the heart. We can do it while we’re standing still. We can do it when we’re lying down. Drawing near to God is at the very heart of the Gospel. It’s what Jesus came to accomplish, to make a new and living way for us to come to God, to draw near to him.
You’ve heard the expression that worship is not what we do when we gather, it is who we are when we gather. Worship is the living out of our love and gratitude for God. Eugenia Gamble says that it is the telling, retelling, living, reliving, gathering, disbursing, filling and refilling of the deep reservoirs of our relationship to God in Christ. As with any relationship, it deepens as we share again and again our stories together. Living the Christian life is about offering ourselves to God, waiting for God, trusting God, living with God, orienting life toward God. Through prayer and worship God shapes each of us into the body God desires us to be and issues us to the particular calling of our community. As we worship together as the body of Christ, God makes us instruments for the blessing of the world, for embodying the values of the kingdom and God, for speaking the truth in the world in which we live.
Let us pray. Eternal God, may we treasure our moments together in prayer, moments when we can bring to you the things we are doing and find new meaning for them and new strength for doing them. Moments for recalling how we need you already in the stuff of daily living, when faith is tested and compassion translated into action. Amen.