Blizzard Sabbath

Hit by a big blizzard, most things are shut down today. A Sunday morning without church has provided me with the gift of an unexpected Sabbath in what has been a busy past few days. This morning I found myself leisurely watching Meet the Press and then enjoying waffles and coffee while listening to some NPR.

A major theme of the morning was the economy, which is not much of a surprise since it has been dominating the news for a few months now—especially since the annual shopping extravaganza is in full swing. Over the past two Sundays the economy has found its way into my sermons as well. The “Advent Conspiracy” has guided our worship themes this Advent with its “spend less, give more” philosophy dovetailing each week with the headlines.

This morning I would have preached on The Song of Zechariah (Luke 1:68-79)—also known as The Benedictus. As I prepared this week, I tried to avoid using economic illustrations fearing overkill after the last two weeks. However, now I am glad that sermon will never see the light of day because The Benedictus is a song about the days we are living in.

Zechariah, struck silent due to his lack of faith, bursts into song upon the birth of his son John the Baptist. N.T. Wright suggests that Zechariah’s nine month silence is a reflection of what had been going on in Israel at the time. After all, prophesy had been thought to be silent for a long time and seemingly there was a lack of faith among the people about God following through on the covenant made long ago with Abraham. Zechariah’s lack of faith that leads to silence becomes an odd little sign that God is about to do something new; that a new prophet has arrived to lead people back to God’s ways. Wright suggests Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary “stand out real people, hesitating between faith and doubt, called to trust God at a new moment in history.”

We also live in a time of hesitation between faith and doubt. Prophecy seems silent. And God is calling us to trust God at a new moment in history.

Another point of this was made apparent to me this morning as Parker Palmer was a guest on public radio’s Speaking of Faith. Talking about the economic crisis he pointed out that the way we have been living in this country has been an artificial altitude and was bound to fall. This was equated with his own struggles with depression and the personal breakthrough he had with a therapist who invited him to see the depression as a friend who is bringing him down to earth—to ground safe to stand (after seeing that he had lived life at inflated heights). What a remarkable insight—to not see depression as an enemy but as a friend, showing us the errors of our ways, showing us reality. What an insight as we stand at the edge of economic depression.

We are at a new moment in history. We have been living at inflated heights. The chasm between rich and poor is wide and grows wider. National tragedy inspires us to shop.  Christmas consumerism has reached an all time level of ridiculousness in recent years. But as with all times where there has been silence and God is about to do a new thing, God calls forth ordinary people like Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, John, you, and me to be a part of preparing the way of the Lord—to be a part of prophesy for a new day.

May each of us who follow Christ see the economic situation as a friend guiding back down to earth. May we see the continuing struggles and decline in our churches as a friend showing us where we have not been faithful. May our hesitation between faith and doubt not lead to be struck with silence, but rather cause us to burst out into song—a sign that God is at work.

Blizzard, -8°