History Repeats Itself, As Does Deliverance

Scripture Lessons: Romans 13: 8-14 and Exodus 12: 1-14 Sermon Title: History Repeats Itself, As Does Deliverance Preached on September 6, 2020 When I got dressed last Monday morning I put on my funeral suit. I didn’t have a funeral to go to, but the occasion warranted my funeral suit. Maybe you heard, that someone or some small group of people spray painted swastikas on fences and on the sides of buildings nearby an East Cobb synagogue. As this synagogue, Temple Kol Emeth, is one of the religious groups we partner with to build homes through Habitat for Humanity, I was invited to join a group of politicians, police officers, preachers, rabbis, imams, and journalists there. We all assembled to show our support to the temple and her congregation and to openly stand against those signs of hatred which remind us of what human beings are capable of when we fail to love our neighbors as ourselves. It just happens too often, doesn’t it? If you google the word “genocide” a list comes up. This list includes Hindus, Muslims, Hutus, Tutsis, Irish, Palestinians, Bosnians, Croats, Tamils, Tartars, and a long list of indigenous people who were murdered with abandon. Certainly, the Nazi’s are the most notorious. They’re by no means alone, but they’re the group we think of when remembering hatred and evil. The sign of the swastika reminds all of us of that nightmare when especially Jews, but also gypsies, homosexuals, pols, and anyone else who was considered less than human was herded up into concentrations camps to be exterminated. Today, most of us see the swastika and remember what should never happen again, but has, and could. So, I put on my funeral suit and drove over to the synagogue. Everybody was there. We assembled in the part of the temple we Presbyterians would call the narthex. I walked in with an imam. We were both running a little late. We made it inside just as it started raining. He had been asked to speak and I hadn’t, but (this is what I want to emphasize) either one of us could have because we people of faith have been trained to respond to those moments in human life that defy easy explanation. We have been given the words to say to people when there are no words We know what to do when it seems like there’s nothing that anyone can do. We religious people testify to a hope that defies explanation. The way Tom Long described it in his great book about the funeral is that at the grave there are generally too preachers. One is death and his sermon is always the same. From the depths of the tomb he says, “This is the end. It’s all over. There is no more to say.” However, at the grave there often stands another preacher who reminds those assembled of the one who rose again. He or she points to the light that shines in the darkness. The ancient words we say are those of a love that can never be conquered, an everlasting life that has no end, and a great company of saints who join the living and the dead in signing a bold Halleluiah. Our funeral liturgy is no different than our Second Scripture Lesson. It’s a list of instructions for what to say and how to do it that we remember that while history repeats itself, so does deliverance: Every household in the assembled congregation of Israel shall take part. They shall have a lamb of their own unless they are too small a family and need to share with their neighbors. Divide it in proportion to the number of people who shall eat of it. The lamb should be without blemish, a year-old male from the sheep or from the goats. Keep it until the fourteenth day of the month. Slaughter it at twilight. “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord throughout your generations.” Why? So, that every year you remember again that just when you start to think that the light is about to go out God may choose to show up once again. Don’t forget that. Don’t forget something so important in a time like this one. But it’s easy to. I walked into that synagogue last Monday morning wondering what anyone could say. What do you say when hatred rears its ugly head once again? But the group knew. We were there together. First the rabbi quoted Elie Wiesel. Then he read from the Torah, and one by one the politicians, police chief, pastors, rabbis, and imams, went to the microphone to say the same thing, again and again: “death will not have the final word today.” Hatred will not rise up unanswered. The swastika might have been spray painted on our walls and fences, but it has already been painted over by this community’s love. Because of such words, by the time I left I could see clearly again, that as the Apostle Paul said, “While there is evil in the world, evil will be overcome by good. Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first began” for the night is gone, the day is near. But we must do something in order to remember. So, God gave Moses the instructions. What we’ve just read in our Second Scripture Lesson is more than a story. It’s more than history. It’s interactive. Its what preachers call liturgy. What we have in this 12th chapter of the book of Exodus is a way to remember that God is at work in the world. It’s a rhythm. It’s a process. It’s a routine that helps us all to taste and see that God is good. It reminds me of a moment I just read about. I just finished reading a book about a man who drove to a wine bar, drank two bottles, got punched in the face by the bartender, got into his car, was pulled over immediately, refused the breathalyzer, got locked up, had to call his little brother to come pick him up, then he threw up on the way home. That’s a depressing story, isn’t it? It made me want to put on my funeral suit, only in the book, that night at the dinner table his mother took his face in her hands and said, “You are loved.” That’s powerful. Still, you can imagine what he said. He said, “Mom, I know.” “No,” she says. “You don’t know. You won’t ever know. And that’s okay. It’s not your job to know. It’s your job to be loved.” After that the words started to sink in. That’s what it takes, isn’t it? Not just the words but hearing them said more than once. Plus, the motions, the actions, over and over again, year after year, maybe even day after day. It’s what should be happening for every child in every family. I was standing outside a church one afternoon with a public defender in Columbia, Tennessee. She asked, “Do you know what every solid family in this town has in common?” “No, I don’t,” I admitted. Then she gave a simple, yet profound answer, “Every solid family in this town has a table. Maybe it’s a kitchen table. Maybe it’s a dining room table. Maybe it’s just a card table that they have to fold out and sit around, but they do, night after night for the evening meal. I have always known that for a family to stay connected and for children to be reminded that they’re loved, there has to be a place where everyone gathers around to be fed, not just in body but in spirit.” Have you ever thought about that? My friends, it may feel like the darkness is growing out in the world. Hate crimes are up 19% in our country. There’s division and discord. Worse still is all the indifference. I hear people saying, “I’m just done. And what can I do about it anyway?” What can any of us do about it? What is there to say? Every year God told the people: Gather around, take a lamb, divide it up, eat it together, and remember that I delivered you from oppression in Egypt. Gather around the table, look into the faces of the people who you love, the people who love you. Feed them, listen to them, and remember the God who provided the food that’s there and know that we are never abandoned, nor is our God indifferent to our worries or our suffering. My friends, there’s a table set for us today. The rules are simple enough. Maybe how we do it is a little different, but with a little imagination we all know it’s still the same. There’s bread and the fruit of the vine. We gather around it together in this very hour as a family of faith, and the one who set this table for us not only joins us here to serve as host but gave us everything that we would be fed and saved. Take and eat, he said, this is my body given for you. Drink, my blood shed for the forgiveness of sins. Do these things, and know that you are loved. Do these things and remember the one who will conquer all, defeating the powers of sin and death, risen to rule the world. In these troubled times do not forget that while history may repeat itself, so does deliverance. Thanks be to God. Amen.