A VISION TO GUIDE US

Deuteronomy 6: 4-9
Steve Lindsley
Rally Day Sunday
August 30, 2009


It was nothing more a sliver of water – the Jordan River – that stood between where they had been and where they were going.  It was a few hundred feet across to the other side; too wide and too deep to be made on foot.  But as great as that gap was, the distance between their storied past and their hopeful future had never been shorter.

And as the people of God gathered by the river's edge that day and soaked up the scene of mountains and dust, hills and sun, rocks and sky, they remembered.  It had been similar fanfare at the very beginning of it all, when shouts of joy and thanksgiving accompanied a hasty exit out of the shackles of Egypt.  Then came the journey that would seemingly go on forever – forty years searching for a home.  Children were born and had children of their own during that time.  Teenagers became grandparents.  Two generations had known nothing but the hardship of the desert and the constant motion of nomadic lifestyle.

Until now.  Now they found themselves at that point where past, present and future collide.  Now, as the soft ripples of the Jordan River lapped onto the shore, the Hebrew nation gazed off into the distance and witnessed the unveiling of their salvation.  They called it “The Promised Land” because it had been a promise for so long – a conversation between a God and his people, centuries in the making.  It was a promise of descendants and land.  It was a promise of unbroken faithfulness.  And it was a promise of hardship too; hardship they'd certainly faced leading up to this point. 

But at this moment, at this snapshot in time, the people looked across the waters to their promise, their hopes, their dreams fulfilled.  The Promised Land.  There it was, finally within their reach!  They would know the taste of it soon enough; they would live into the plan that God had set in motion thousands of years before.  They would know, after all that time, what it finally meant to be a people with a home. 

But not yet.  Not quite yet!  It's not quite time to follow in the Ark's path and watch the waters part, as they did a generation before.  It's not quite time for the promise's fulfillment.  Now, at this critical juncture, it is time to listen – to hear God's word read, to hear the great man Moses speak words of encouragement, words of instruction, words of warning.  To stand in that rare, sacred space of past, present and future and let the vision take hold of them.

Vision.  It is a complex word, isn't it?  It can refer simply to seeing something right in front of you – the road you're driving on, the book you're reading, the sunset in the distance.  But vision can also talk about things we can't see; things that haven't come to pass; things that guide us not out of their presence among us but out of the promise of their fulfillment. 

Our scripture reading this morning speaks of this; the foundation of things that visions are built upon.  It's known in Hebrew as the Shema – that word literally means “to listen” or “to hear.”  The passage commands God’s people to internalize God’s word – to literally make it part of their being.  God’s word was to surround them, night and day.  It was recited to their children, bound on their hands and foreheads, and even written on the doorposts of their homes.  That last one is interesting – some Jewish families still observe it today with what's called a mezuzah. It’s a small enclosed container fastened to the doorway in a Jewish home.  Rolled up inside the mezuzah is a scroll inscribed with this passage from Deuteronomy.  In an observant Jew's home, a mezuzah is hung on the doorway of every room, welcoming and reminding everyone who enters that the Lord's presence is there.
    Just as Deuteronomy resonated deeply with the Hebrews alongside the River Jordan that day, so it still cries out to us, down through the centuries, for a similar kind of focus in our walk of faith.  So an “inward expression” in the church speaks to nurturing our faithful relationships with one another. Because Jesus lives in us, we edify one another, encourage one another, teach one another, learn from one another. That's what the early church did day in and day out.  And that’s what we are called to continue expressing in the church of the 21st century – to live out and “recite” the Shema so the body of Christ may be built up.

But here’s the thing – vision is not a static entity.  We can’t be just a “status-quo” church, reciting and acting out the Shema “like we always have.”  God's message to us never changes, but the way we convey God's message does.  It has to – because the world around us is changing all the time; it's in constant flux.  When the church falls into the trap of abiding by those famous six words – We've always done it this way – when the church limits itself like this, it reminds us of the beautiful classic car that sit in the driveway with an empty tank – it looks great, but it doesn't do much.

Vision, like the heart of the Shema, calls us to take this faith we claim and let it guide us!  Vision reminds us of where we've been; vision reveals the future that's right in front of us; vision enables us to move ahead.  Vision calls us to change – not change for change's sake, but change for the better.  And sometimes, vision means letting go of what we've known for so long, what we've been so familiar with.

In just a few minutes our church will participate in a special recognition for the Carter Men's Bible class, who after 50 years of meeting in the Scout Hut every Sunday morning has made the difficult decision to bring their ministry to a conclusion.  This is a bittersweet time for them and for us.  But at the same time we are able to give thanks to God for what this group has meant to this church and to this community.  At their final gathering last Sunday, Mike Beal's lesson focused on our scripture today, and it was a very appropriate message for the occasion.  He, too, spoke of a Hebrew people standing at the river's edge, looking back at where they had been and looking ahead at where they were going.  It took courage for the men of that class to make the decision they did, and it took wisdom to know that an ending also leads to a beginning.  It took vision.

So if I may, allow me to lift up this class as an example of what can happen when we let God's vision – and not our own agendas or desires – but God's vision guide us.  Change is never easy, especially when it involves giving up something we're familiar with for something that we're not.  But change is often at the very heart of vision's realization.

So the question for you and for me on this Rally Day Sunday is this: what other changes may be coming our way out of the vision that guides our church?  What new, different, invigorating ways may God be calling us to experience educational ministry and nurture – what will Bible studies and Sunday school look like?  How about our church's mission – just this month we began a partnership with two Presbyterian churches for the Backpack program at a local elementary school; and plans are still in the works for the opening of a coat closet.  It took vision to bring these things to fruition – so what else is coming?  We are just a few weeks away from our fall Discipleship season, when you will be given the opportunity to support the work and ministry of this church through what's being called “The 15+ Plan.”  Will you be part of this plan and join in this vision?  And in the September church newsletter you'll be receiving soon, I extend an invitation to join me in a new visitation ministry to our hospitalized and homebound members.  Who among you will feel called to be part of that vision?

The pursuit of God's vision is the life-blood of the church.  The minute we accept complacency in any shape or form is the minute that the church loses a sense of who it is, where it came from, what it can be.  The minute we are content with being simply believers and not followers, failing to act out the vision that guides us, that is when the body of Christ falls into the trap of assuming that the parts are indeed greater than the whole.  The minute we as a family of faith are more inclined to hold onto our “sacred cows” and resist change of any kind – even when it's addition by subtraction – the minute we do that is the minute we are in danger of losing the vision God has given us.

And that is why for over 4000 years the Shema has been there, speaking the truth deep within the people of God.  That's why we are directed to keep – recite – talk – bind – affix – the word of God.  Because when our labors revolve around that Word, and not our words, we can be assured that God's vision is doing the guiding, leading us precisely where it is we should go.

So on this Rally Day Sunday, we are doing so much more than just gathering for breakfast, worshipping, and enjoying a pig-picking at Westwood Park.  We are the people of God, standing at the river's edge, gazing out at the future ahead of us.  We feel this odd mix of excitement and uncertainty.  We don't always know what's waiting for us on the other side; we don't know what things we may have to let go of or what things we'll be called to embrace.  But we know this, my friends: God goes with us, into whatever our future holds, now and always.  The vision is there to guide us, if we only will let it.

Who's ready to cross to the other side?  Thanks be to God!  AMEN.