Sermon Cloud

Last month, I was driving home in the late afternoon--the sun low in the sky.  It had been a cold, blustery day, rain off and on, strong winds.  The news on the radio was grim and disheartening, and the very sky seemed to mirror that.  But as I drove, the wind kept blowing the clouds eastward, so that, by the time I reached Sedalia, the sky was blue and almost cloudless.  Almost.  High in the western sky was a small triangular-shaped rainbow cloud.  Have you ever seen a rainbow cloud?  I had never even heard of one, but that day, I saw two—the second one a few miles later: a tall column of cloud that the wind slowly flattened and unfurled leaving rainbow streaks in the sky.  Not only was the sky cleared of its dreary gray, but my own spirit was cleared, too, seeing those rainbow reminders of God’s promise.

God remembers the promise, though it was made many thousands of years ago.  God remembers.  What faithfulness!  What hope for us now, as the world endures wars and economic scarcity.  What hope in this season when we look closely at ourselves and our lives and wonder if we are worthy of Christ’s death.  What hope, when we might think God has forgotten us.  At some point most of us have experienced the awful sense that we’d been forgotten: a trick played on you as a child when playmates don’t look for you in hide-and-seek; being confined by illness to home or nursing care and feeling isolated from other people; the citizens of New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, neglected by local and national governments that should have been helping them but didn’t; a divorced person whose acquaintances don’t know what to do with one or both spouses—it happens to widowed folks, too; going through a spiritual crisis and feeling estranged from God….  But don’t forget: God isn’t causing the estrangement, nor trying to teach you a lesson.  God remembers, and will go on remembering.  The rainbow is like God’s alarm clock, set to remind him of his everlasting promise of peace, and of commitment to the world, no matter what.

No matter what.  Listen again to God’s reasoning:The inclination of the human heart is evil from youth.  I will not ever again destroy every living creature as I have done.  I find this a strange juxtaposition.  First, God acknowledges that not even the devastating flood changed the hearts of human beings--and in the very next breath, God promises not to give up on us!  How shocking, that God is ignoring or forgetting God’s own rules and laws of punishment for sin.  Instead, God will deal with us in a new way—not with harsher punishment (though what’s harsher than death of the planet and all its life?), but with an even stronger commitment to creation than before.  Despite one betrayal after another, God will stay in relationship with us, and with the world itself.  If there is a reason for this, it must be because God values the bit of God that’s in each of us.  The best of us and the worst of us are created us in God’s image, created with the potential to be like God in our care of one another and our stewardship of the earth.  So God remembers the covenant, and God never goes back on a promise.

Because God values all life, even mosquitoes and snakes, God makes this promise to the whole creation: people and animals: those alive when the covenant was made, and those who will be born generations into the future.  As strange as it may seem  that God chooses to stick with us, it’s just as strange that God doesn’t ask for anything in return.  God’s mercy and grace extend to a future world that didn’t ask for it, didn’t earn it, couldn’t respond to it.   

God’s not fooling himself as we often do.  God is a realist, and knows we will keep on messing up—that we might even mess up so badly we destroy the planet itself.  We seem to be on a path of doing it now.  In his recent book titled Hot, Flat, and Crowded, Thomas Friedman describes a world full of trash and pollution, suffering from oil addiction, water scarcity in some places and floods in others, the prospect of polar ice melting and the world’s coastal cities under water: a dire scenario, but one that is still correctable, Friedman asserts, if we decide to be stewards of all life.  We can ruin the world once and for all if we choose—that is to say, if we do not choose to become the good stewards God commanded us to be after creating us. (Gen.1:28)  If this global warning leads to ruination, it’s not God’s punishment inflicted on us, but what we bring on ourselves, because instead of taking on our responsibility to care for the earth, we’ve taken advantage of it, exploited it.  God, on the other hand, remembers the covenant, and God never goes back on a promise.

But this promise will cost God dearly.  God has determined to limit his power--to restrain his righteous anger over human sinfulness and rebellion.  In the ancient world, the rainbow, with lightning bolts as arrows, was a weapon the gods used against their enemies.  Our God--the God of love and peace--disarms himself now, turning the weapon into a reminder for God to pause and consider the beautiful world God created, a beauty exemplified by the colorful rainbow—a beauty embodied in the image of God within each of us.  With this reminder, God will hold back on punishing and instead, protect creation from his own righteous anger.  Does this surprise you?  We so often hear that the Old Testament God is different from the New Testament God—that he is a God of wrath, easily offended and quick to punish any slight to his honor.  Yet way back in Genesis, we find God determined to be at peace with us, refusing to be provoked, even when we’re not at peace with God.  God remembers the covenant, and God never goes back on a promise.

The cost to God goes beyond giving up the violent use of power and anger, for now God suffers each time one of his children rebels.  Having made this deep commitment to remember us, God endures the sorrow of being ignored or forgotten by us.  God will grieve over our mistakes and sins, and their consequences not just for us as individuals, but that harm others and even threaten the life of the planet God so carefully and artfully created.  God has chosen not to work through the coercive power of violence, but rather, through the persuasive power of love that we see here, and see much more clearly in Jesus, who submitted to death rather than allow violence to save his own life.  Even then, God remembered the covenant, and God never goes back on a promise.

As we embark on this somber season of Lent, let the covenant sign of the rainbow keep your spirits hopeful with its reminder that God remembers the world.  And even though in making this covenant, God asked nothing in return, perhaps we, in gratitude, might promise faithfulness back to God. 

In his letter, Peter tells us to live lovingly, compassionately, nonviolently [I Peter 3: 8-9, Message Version]: Summing up: Be agreeable, be sympathetic, be loving, be compassionate, be humble.  That goes for all of you, no exceptions.  No retaliation.  No sharp-tongued sarcasm.  Instead, bless—that’s your job, to bless.  You’ll be a blessing and also get a blessing.

God made us free to choose to do good or to do evil.  Blessed as we are, shall we not return to God good for good?  Ann Weems’ poem, Rainbow People”, challenges us to do so: 

Walking Rainbows

A rainbow is not just a symphony of colors

   sent to calm the storm in our souls;

      it is a talk with God,

   a mysterious, miraculous conversation with God,

      heart to heart,

the very heart of God saying to our hearts:

   “I remember I am your God. 

      Be my walking rainbows,

         so that the whole world

            will know to whom you belong,

   for I am the God who keeps promises,

      and I have not forgotten our covenant.”

This is the hope of the church:

   that God keeps promises. 

The mission of the church is to

   walk among the suffering and give,

      for we are covenant keepers,

         walking rainbows,

      bringing the hope of the good news to the poor.   Ann Weems, Kneeling in Jerusalem

Thanks be to God for keeping covenant with us!

O God, you are the Promise-Keeper, guiding Noah and his family over floodwaters and sustaining us on this ark of the earth.  You send us the dove of hope, the rainbow promising your peace, and your Son Jesus the Christ, who is both hope and promise for the whole world.

Many of your people are adrift spiritually, emotionally; give them patience and endurance as they wait for your guidance.  Others are sick and in pain; give them wholeness and well-being that goes beyond even physical cures. 

As we listen this weekend to the hope that our military will end its presence in Iraq, we pray for that land—home of your people Noah, Abraham, Sarah.  May it live into its heritage by listening to your voice.  May our own country and every  nation and person work to end violence; for, as rivers gain force from every drop of water, so violence is fed by every flaring temper, each abusive word and action, every hurt ignored, by exploitation, by the presence of poverty.  Each of us contributes to heating up the climate of violence by our attitudes and actions.  Give us the courage to respond to your covenant of peace with our own.  We offer our prayers in the name of the Prince of Peace who taught us to pray for your kingdom of peace here and now: “Our Father….”

The earth is the Lord’s, and all that is in it.  Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord, and who shall stand in God’s holy place?  Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false, who do not speak deceitfully.  As none of us can claim to be without sin, let us confess together:

This is the good news: God promises never to forget us, and to keep covenant with us even when we do not keep covenant with God.  By the new covenant in Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.  Believe, and live that good news!

With our offerings, we express our faith and give thanks for God’s faithfulness. //  With gratitude, we remember your patience and loving-kindness, Our Creator.  Help us use this money to paint rainbows of hope for people in need of food and shelter, and for those in need of your loving presence.  In the name of Jesus.  Amen.

Remember others the way God remembers us, with love.  Be walking rainbows, coloring the world with the full spectrum of Christ’s love and mercy.  And may he bless you with joy and peace.  Amen.