January 23rd: "The Great Re-Commitment: The Joy of the Lord"

 Watch the Sermon Here

The First United Presbyterian Church of Loveland

“The Great Re-Commitment: The Joy of the Lord”

Rev. Amy Morgan

January 23, 2022

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10 

All the people gathered together into the square before the Water Gate. They told the scribe Ezra to bring the book of the law of Moses, which the Lord had given to Israel. Accordingly, the priest Ezra brought the law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could hear with understanding. This was on the first day of the seventh month. He read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand; and the ears of all the people were attentive to the book of the law. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, for he was standing above all the people; and when he opened it, all the people stood up. Then Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, ‘Amen, Amen’, lifting up their hands. Then they bowed their heads and worshipped the Lord with their faces to the ground. So they read from the book, from the law of God, with interpretation. They gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading.

And Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites who taught the people said to all the people, ‘This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.’ For all the people wept when they heard the words of the law. Then he said to them, ‘Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.’

SECOND READING: Luke 4:14-21 

Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country.

 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

 16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read,

 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

 18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free,

 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

 20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.

 21 Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

There have been days when I couldn’t remember the last time I showered. Or put on clothes you couldn’t classify as loungewear. There were months when I didn’t hug someone I didn’t live with. Or sing with anyone other than the radio. 

Call it pre-pandemic life, or the Before Times. The longer this goes on, the harder it is to remember what it was like. But as this latest wave of COVID begins to recede, we will start to remember. We’ll return to possibilities like daily routines and smiling at strangers. And wearing pants with some regularity. We’ll remember those things we used to do before we were exiled from our former life. 

This is what happens to the people of Israel when Ezra reads to them the law of God. The Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for 70 years. Most of the people gathered at the Water Gate - a place of judgment, but also a place of inclusion, where anyone could gather, of any age, status, or ritual purity – most of these people did not remember the Before Times. Almost two generations had passed since the temple was destroy and they had been exiled. 

But the law was more than memory. It was more than a list of rules and regulations. The law ordered human life according to God’s good intentions. The law was a rhythm of life, like showering and brushing your teeth, getting dressed and going out to restaurants, hugging friends and smiling at strangers. This rhythm had been lost in the exile. And even if they hadn’t experienced it for themselves, the law lived in these people, it was passed down through whatever imperfect improvisations they could make in a foreign land. The people had been longing for this rhythm for a very long time, even longer than 22 months. 

And so, when the law is read and interpreted - meaning it was translated from Hebrew into the common Aramaic spoken by the Israelites at that time and given explanation so everyone could understand, even those who had not experienced living by it - when this happens, the people weep and mourn. 

Their grief is not explained. Perhaps, as some scholars think, they were convicted of how far they had strayed from following the law, and they were grieved by their sinfulness. But I can imagine a slightly different kind of grief. A grief that comes from being reminded of life-giving rhythms that you have lost for a long, long time. 

This is a grief we are all too familiar with. When we think about all the things we never had to think about in the Before Times. When we look at photos from Christmas 2019 or scroll back through our Facebook feeds to early March of 2020. When we have to use precious brain power and will power to decide to get out of bed, decide to brush our teeth, decide to take that shower and put on real clothes, decide whether or not to go to social gatherings, or the grocery store, or church. All these things were part of the rhythm of life before. They happened naturally and automatically. They weren’t so hard. And recognizing how hard it is to just do the basic things in life because we have lost that rhythm is sad. We grieve that loss. 

But Nehemiah and Ezra and the teachers of the Law tell the people not to weep, not to grieve for what they’ve lost. “The joy of the Lord is your strength,” Nehemiah says. The joy of those memories, the joy of those rhythms of life, the joy of God’s life-giving law will give them the strength to re-commit to that law, that rhythm of life. Regret and lament will not help them right now. Joy is the greater motivator. 

And so, remembering with joy those regular rhythms, those routines and rituals, those places we would go and people we would see with more frequency – the joy of those memories is what will eventually help us re-commit to a life that feels more human than the ones we’ve been living for the past 22 months. 

Because the really key thing to recognize about the law of God that the Israelites re-commit to is that it isn’t a code for individual righteousness. God’s law is impossible to keep as an individual person. Again, the law of God isn’t rules and regulations. It is a covenant with a whole community. And it can only be kept by a whole community. Re-commitment to the law isn’t just a re-commitment to personal rhythms of life. It is a re-commitment to a covenant community. The rhythms of life involve the whole community, it isn’t something anyone can do alone. 

Remembering the Before Times, pre-pandemic life, with joy, empowers us to re-commit not just to personal life-giving practices. It invites us to re-commit to community, in particular this covenant community of God’s people doing God’s work. 

Now, this may not look the way it did before the pandemic. Maybe we won’t go back to volunteering to pass the offering plates. Maybe we won’t help print and fold the bulletins. But there may be new, and equally life-giving ways to re-commit to this covenant community. There may be new ways of fulfilling Christ’s mission to “bring good news to the poor…proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.” We may not even be able to imagine yet what those ways look like, but the joy we remember from serving with this covenant community in the past will be the strength we need to discover and chart new paths, to interpret our covenant commitment in this new time. 

What’s really wonderful and amazing is that we have new people committing to this covenant community today. Just a couple of months ago, we had four others committing to this covenant community. We’ve had folks committing to this covenant community all throughout the pandemic.

After worship today, we’ll hold our annual meeting of the congregation. If this feels like some inconsequential, pro-forma affair, first – you should know that we’re playing Jeopardy, so it will be awesome – and second – let us not forget that this is part of how we live out our commitment to this covenant community. This is an opportunity to remember with joy all that God has done in Jesus Christ through this congregation in the last year. And it is an opportunity to re-commit to this covenant community and to its life-giving rhythms in the year ahead. 

Now, because, as good, Reformed Christians, we believe that Jesus came not to abolish the law of God but to fulfill it, we don’t read and follow the rhythms of the ancient Pentateuch, the first five books of the Old Testament. But, based on the life-giving rhythms described in all of scripture, especially in the life and teachings of Jesus, we Presbyterians have developed over many centuries a book that interprets those scriptures and describes the life-giving rhythms of our covenant community in this time.

I will not read from early morning to mid-day the entirety of the Presbyterian Book of Order, but I do want to share with you a little part concerning membership. It says that:

“Membership in the Church of Jesus Christ is a joy and a privilege. It is also a commitment to participate in Christ’s mission. A faithful member bears witness to God’s love

and grace and promises to be involved responsibly in the ministry of Christ’s Church.

Such involvement includes:

• proclaiming the good news in word and deed,
• taking part in the common life and worship of a congregation,
• lifting one another up in prayer, mutual concern, and active support,
• studying Scripture and the issues of Christian faith and life,
• supporting the ministry of the church through the giving of money, time, and

talents,

• demonstrating a new quality of life within and through the church,
• responding to God’s activity in the world through service to others,
• living responsibly in the personal, family, vocational, political, cultural, and social relationships of life,
• working in the world for peace, justice, freedom, and human fulfillment,
• caring for God’s creation,
• participating in the governing responsibilities of the church, and
• reviewing and evaluating regularly the integrity of one’s membership, and considering ways in which one’s participation in the worship and service of the

church may be increased and made more meaningful.”

It is this last point I want to focus on for just a moment here. Whenever new folks join this community, it is a great opportunity for us all to review and evaluate the integrity of our membership. Every time we come together for our annual congregational meeting, it is a great opportunity for us to consider ways in which our participation in the worship and service of the church may be increased and made more meaningful. And so, I hope we will all take some time to do those things today. 

The integrity of our membership depends on our continual re-commitment to that list of responsibilities – to worship and prayer and study, to generosity and service and creation care, to justice and governance and living responsibly. It’s a serious list. It’s a bit commitment. Especially right now. I get it. 

But it is also a life-giving commitment. It is a joyful commitment. It is a “joy and a privilege.” 

And so I invite us all to consider today how our re-commitment to this covenant community can increase, perhaps, but especially how it can be made more meaningful. Everyone should not commit to doing everything. No one, in fact, should commit to doing everything. But everyone should commit to doing something meaningful. Maybe all the new technology frightens you, and you know you would not find it meaningful to help out with that. But maybe you have found renewed meaning in generosity, or in praying for our neighbors and our world. Maybe you are finding it is a strain to give financially to the church right now, but you really have a heart for creation care. You can join the Green Team and help our church become a certified Earth Care congregation. Maybe the idea of dealing with masks and microphones and cameras has turned you away from serving as a liturgist, but you really want to do something to serve our neighbors who are unhoused. You can participate with our Together Colorado folks to work on advocacy and compassionate solutions to the challenges folks are facing. 

A meaningful re-commitment to this covenant community is possible for every one of us, no matter your vulnerabilities, resources, inhibitions, or restrictions. The joy of the Lord is our strength, as individuals and especially as a community. May that joy strengthen our re-commitment. May that joy uphold the integrity of our membership. May that joy increase the meaningfulness of our responsibilities. 

And may we all say, Amen, Amen.