Real Miracles Are Scary

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday August 31, 2008, the 22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.

Exodus 3:1-15
Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c
Romans 12:9-21
Matthew 16:21-28

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen

Coming into Omaha, Nebraska on US 75 there is a sign. I hope I remember it properly, “Beware. Do not be alarmed by the sound of jets overhead.” Believe me; that caught my attention. You see, just south of Omaha is Offutt Air Force Base. Offutt is the home of the 55th Wing Air Combat Command. It is also the home of the U.S. Strategic Command, the successor agency to the Strategic Air Command.[1] With credentials like these and suburban sprawl out of Omaha, it’s no wonder a highway passes close enough to the end of a runway to deserve a sign.

But as I read the sign, one thought crossed my mind, if a jet comes barreling off of a runway at an altitude of twenty feet screaming past at Mach 2, I’m going to be alarmed. It’s just as easy as that and the world better get used to it.

I first saw this sign on my way into Omaha in the summer of 1983. So if the noise and sight of a jet screaming by weren’t enough, the global political situation of the day didn’t help. It was early in the Reagan years; the Soviet Premier was Yuri Andropov; and the diplomatic phrase du jour was “escalation of the cold war.” Who knew what a jet leaping out of SAC Headquarters was carrying? Whatever it was had the capacity to be very, very scary.

And they didn’t want me to be alarmed? So sorry, if I had seen a jet coming off that runway I would have seriously considered becoming one of those guys with the sign that says “The End Is Near” as soon as I crawled from the wreckage of my Ford Granada.

Often, the response to “fear not” is the same as the response to “heads up.” When we hear “heads up” often we look up, and shouldn’t. When we hear “fear not” often we’re afraid. But being afraid doesn’t matter as much as how we react to being afraid.

As our reading from Exodus begins, Moses is tending the herds of his father-in-law on the piedmont of the mountain of God, Mount Horeb. There he sees a bush burning, but not being consumed. Aflame but not burning; is it a miracle? If it’s not it’s a good trick. Moses goes to take a better look.

When the Lord saw that Moses had turned toward the bush, God called out to him from the bush by name. Moses answered, “Here I am.”

Let’s give Moses a break, what are you going to say to a bush that calls you by name? Again, is it a miracle? If it’s not it’s a real good trick.

Then the Lord said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground. I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

A bush burns without burning, a bush talks without moving its lips, and the voice says, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” No wonder Moses was afraid to look.

Proverbs starts with the oft quoted “Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Moses picked that up quickly.

Moses was afraid to look at God. One of the heroes of the Judeo-Christian people was afraid. If I’m just a little bit frightened at the prospect of a jet buzzing my car at Mach 2, I can only imagine myself in Moses’ sandals.

The Lord continues by reviewing the recent history of the Israelites in Egypt. Surely Moses remembers what Egypt was like from when he was a young man, now the Lord is giving Moses the updates from the front lines. The Lord has heard their cries and will deliver the nation from Egypt.

The Lord directs Moses, “So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.”

Moses answers God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”

God says “I will send you.” Moses says, “Who am I that I should go?” God answers, “I will be with you.”

We have a bush that burns but doesn’t burn. We have a bush with a voice, and the voice identifies itself as the Lord. But dare I say these are not the miracles we should stake our faith upon.

Our reading from Matthew shows the Apostle Peter flexing his fear just like Moses.

“From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Now I ask, does that scare you? If it doesn’t, I think it’s only because we are used to looking at this from our side of Easter. When we read this, we say, “Amen” knowing this is exactly what happens, giving the glory to God. But at that time, in the moment, the disciples heard a tale that would make a horror movie director take note, ending with the most improbable finale of all.

Now, I’m willing to bash Peter, in the gospels his mouth is often engaged before his mind finds a gear. This case is a common example used to show Peter’s bluster. But I want us to reconsider Peter’s state for a second. What if Peter is not speaking out of bluster, what if he is speaking out of fear?

And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” In fear, it seems more like he is recoiling in horror than denying the Lord. Maybe, just maybe Peter is shocked and terrified instead of pretentious.

Still Jesus knows his mission, his vocation. He knows his work is heavenly, not worldly. Jesus tells Peter “fear not the things of the earth” when he says, “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

The Lord is Emmanuel, God with us. And this is where Moses and Peter must place their faith, in the Lord who is with them. Burning bushes are great, but the miracle of God with us is the only true miracle we have. We depend on this miracle. We depend on the faithfulness of God.

In 1992, Paramount Pictures released “Leap of Faith”[2] starring Steve Martin as the Reverend Jonas Nightengale, an “evangelist” who is more con man than man of God. When one of the Kenworth trucks in his caravan breaks down in Rustwater, Kansas, he makes the choice to turn lemons into lemonade by holding his revival there instead of Topeka.

Like any good con man, he finds the greatest need in town and exploits it. Rustwater is in a five year drought and if it doesn’t rain this weekend, the crop will be ruined again this year. On the first day of the revival, before the meeting, Jonas walks around town inviting everyone, promising miracles and wonders.

Roger Ebert’s review in the Chicago Sun-Times said: “‘Leap of Faith’… begins as an expose, develops into a social commentary, and ends… without really ending. I'm not talking about what happens just before the end, but about the way the screenplay never really develops that, never completes the arc of the preacher's character.

“Maybe the ending is seen as open; I see it as inconclusive, a cop-out.”[3]

I see the ending differently from Mr. Ebert. A theological look gives me a different perspective.

At the end of the movie, Jonas experiences an epiphany of God’s grace and mercy. The sick are healed and the lame walk in Rustwater. Everyone praises God and says halleluiah. They have seen the signs and wonders and they give glory to God. But these healings are not the miracles.

As Jonas leaves the revival tent for the last time, he is met with the vision of a tent city on the revival grounds. People are camping, and sharing food. In their poverty, they share the abundance of God. A community founded in Christ rises out of the ash of chicanery. This is a miracle.

As Jonas hitchhikes out of town leaving his old life behind, it begins to rain. The people of Rustwater declare it a miracle, rain heaven sent and the crop is saved. But this is not the miracle either.

The miracle is the redemption of a man in Jesus Christ. The miracle is in the relationship God initiates with creation and humanity. The miracle is Jonas’ response to the Almighty God.

Ebert calls this ending to the movie “inconclusive.” I agree that we don’t know how Jonas Nightengale will handle his redemption. We don’t know what shape it will take, but the movie gives us a clue to answering the question of Jonas’ redemption.

Early in the movie while Jonas is walking around town, he is asked if he is a fake. He answers, “Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. But if I get the job done what difference does it make?” The difference is that Jonas doesn’t get the job done at all. Getting the job done was never up to Jonas.

The Lord takes Jonas’ earthly con and brings glory to God and redemption to a man who truly needs redeeming. We don’t know where Jonas will go from here, but with confidence we know God’s redeeming work has begun in Jonas through Jesus Christ.

We don’t know what shape redemption will take, but that’s what’s wonderful about movies. We don’t have to know how Jonas’ life ends because we can see how it begins. We see how new life begins in the light of redemption, and for me that is enough for a movie.

The sins of Moses, Peter, and Jonas Nightengale are not so woeful that they can overwhelm the sovereignty of God or the depth of God’s grace. What we are given in our readings from Exodus and Matthew are the beginnings of lives redeemed. We see how two simple human beings live in the presence of God.

We live in changing times with scary demands. Being afraid is a common reaction to change. One thing we take from our readings is that Moses and Paul were faced with fear. Even the heroes of the faith get frightened.

The other thing we take is that the Lord is ever faithful. Whether Moses at the bush or before Pharaoh, whether Peter at Caesarea Philippi or before the crowds at Pentecost; the Lord was with them giving them what they needed to complete the task they had been called to undertake. As heroes of the faith they are called to their God given vocation, so too are we. We are called to be the body of Christ on earth continuing the good work started in Christ Jesus.

Fear happens. It happened to Moses. It happened to Peter. It happens to us. But fear must never paralyze us. When fear paralyzes us, it is when we set our minds on human things instead of the divine. This is when we become stumbling blocks to the Lord. Fear must never be the red light on the highway of life. It should be like a flashing yellow light, we approach with caution, but when the way is clear we go. God leads the way, watch for the signs, slow down when necessary, keep an eye to heavenly things, and follow where God leads.

[1] Offutt Air Force Base, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Offutt_Air_Force_Base, retrieved August 25, 2008.
[2] Paramount Pictures presents a Michael Manheim/David V. Picker production of a Richard Pearce film, Leap of Faith, 1992, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104695, retrieved October 7, 2004.
[3] Ebert, Roger, “Leap of Faith-Movie Review” Chicago Sun-Times, October18, 1992, http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19921218/REVIEWS/212180302/1023, retrieved August 25, 2008.