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Sunday
February 22, 2004
The Rev. Jean Alexander

Sometime in the late spring or early summer of 1997, as I was finishing my ministry in Bethesda and preparing to go to Maine, I was at Georgetown Hospital to visit a parishioner and waiting for the elevator. Across from the elevator were some bulletin boards. On one of them was a quote about the state of health care. The author of the quote said that for those who work health care today it was like being "between trapezes." The metaphor leapt out at me because in my state of transition between Bethesda UCC and Conference Ministry in Maine, it felt very much like being between trapezes, flying unsupported through the air with no guarantee that I would be able to safely catch the approaching bar. Would I fall flat on my face without a net below?

I will confess another reason that the metaphor grabbed me is that I have always loved the circus. I’m sure it came from growing up in Baraboo, Wisconsin, where the Ringling Brother’s Circus originated. For me the circus is full of that mixture of terror and delight that is also a part of many of life’s transitions. I love the clowns, the acrobats, and the animal acts. For many years I had a poster of Gunther Gebel-Williams in my laundry room! I also have always been taken with the men and women on the flying trapeze. Being terrified of heights myself, to watch them swing back and forth, so high over the crowd, is a moment of awe and sweaty palms. How can they do it? They swing back and forth and then all of a sudden they are flying, twisting, somersaulting through space and at the exact moment, catch the approaching trapeze bar that their partner has sent at the exact right moment. There is such skill and timing involved, and such willingness to take risks. It’s thrilling!

As I thought about today this metaphor seemed appropriate because both Linda, who is about to swing off into the world of retirement and you as a congregation, are also in a state of transition. Yes, you have a search committee together and are moving towards resolution of that process, and yes, Linda has organized you within an inch of your life so that you can continue on without her. BUT, soon, very soon, you will both let go of that trapeze bar and swing off into space. Neither of you know, nor can you predict whether or when you will catch the trapeze bar on the opposite side of this transition. You are both letting go, and as they say, there are no guarantees about what will happen to either of you.

The passage from Romans 8 I think is a good one for us today to ponder as we enter the airspace between trapezes. Paul was a man familiar with transition and change. He himself was a major instigator of change in people’s lives as he proclaimed the good news of Jesus Christ to the gentiles of the Mediterranean world and formed congregations on his famous missionary journeys. However he not only was a "change agent" he lived in a time, much like our own, with profound cultural change taking place. The Roman Empire was stressed, and beginning it’s inexorable decline. The cities of the Roman world were growing. The poor country folks were moving from the villages into these urban centers to find employment. The old god’s were not delivering and there was a proliferation of new religions appealing to people who were leaving behind the "old time religion" dissatisfied with priestly corruption and a theology that did not touch and transform the heart.

For those who heard the good news Paul preached and became followers of Jesus, they soon learned that this new faith didn’t save them in quite the way they had hoped. They were still living in a complex, difficult world. The salvation Paul preached was not "saving" them from that. This is always disconcerting to converts who are hoping that their new found faith will take away the anxiety that comes with human existence. In fact their faith was adding to their anxieties with the increased persecution of the Christian church by the Roman authorities.

Paul speaks to this anxiety in this section of the letter to the Romans. He compares what they are going through to childbirth. Childbirth hurts. It’s scary. There are no guarantees that you will end up with a healthy child. Yet it is also exciting. New life is coming into the world with all of its possibilities. I remember well the birth of my grandson Miguel. We were all gathered round my daughter, the doctor, the two nurses and myself. My daughter was indeed groaning with the effort of pushing him out, and I was on tiptoe to see what was coming into the world. And then he was there, this new little life, alert and full of so many hopes for the future.

As Christians Paul calls us to face the "groaning of creation" with that strange mixture of terror and delight that childbirth has. The child is going to be born. The change is going to come. We can’t stop it. Yes, we must treat its dangers respectfully and be prepared, but we are also called to more than fear. We are called to anticipation and hope.

We are also called to prayer. Prayer is what can get us through these terrible/wonderful times of transition. N.T Wright in his commentary on Romans in The New Interpreter’s Bible says that "Those who cannot see that for which they eagerly hope need assistance to peer into the darkness ahead and to pray God’s future into the present." I like that last phrase "pray God’s future into the present." For that is exactly what we do when we pray our intercessions as the church and as individuals. As we pray we turn our hearts in trust to God: the God whose love brought the cosmos into being; the God whose love seeks to recall that creation to wholeness through Christ; the "heart-searching God whose spirit prays in us and for us when in our terror we cannot find the words to ask for what we need and hope.

Prayer is the most necessary and important thing we can do when we are in transition because it is an acknowledgement that we are not in control of life. When we pray we are invited to suspend our needs for control, our terror of the unknown and trust the providence of God. And even here Paul says God’s love supports us when we can’t find the words, moving in our fears and hopes to create anew the world.

Now some might read this text as passivity. Are we just supposed to sit around praying and hoping while the world falls apart around us? What about the work that needs to be done around here and out there on the streets of this city and in all the broken hurting places of the world. We can’t just sit around during this time of transition waiting for the world to get better.

No indeed. I don’t think Paul is suggesting that we do that. Paul is helping us with our "attitude" as the kids would say. The work of the church still needs to get done.

In the gospel lesson from Luke the feeding of the 5000 comes right after the 12 disciples return from being sent out to "proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal." At the beginning of chapter 9 Jesus has commissioned the 12 and given them power and authority over the demons and the ability to heal. When they come back to Jesus, he tries to take them off for a quiet debriefing but the crowds catch up to them and in verse 11 it says "and he welcomed them, and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed to be cured." At the end of the day though the disciples tell Jesus he should dismiss the crowd because they have no way to feed them. Despite their own miracles of healing and exorcism, they still don’t trust God’s abundant grace. Jesus has to show them again that God will feed them in the wilderness. "And all ate and were satisfied."

Both of these texts remind us that when we let go of the trapeze bar to which we are clinging, that even though we are heading through empty space, we are not unsupported. Yes, we are being asked to let go and move out into the world to heal, to preach, and to exorcise the demons that lurk within our culture. Linda is letting go of a ministry, a profession that has defined her for over 20 years and to which she has given herself freely and faithfully. It’s hard to pry us loose from the familiar routines, from our comfortable pews, and let ourselves fly towards a new future, a new ministry, towards new people and the gifts and opportunities they will provide us. We can easily get fixated on the terror of it. Yet let us not forget the delight. God’s wonderful creativity is still being birthed in this world in all kinds of surprising ways. The miracles of God’s extravagant love are still feeding those who seek Christ’s presence. The heart searching God who knows us better than we know ourselves, is with us. So let us not forget that there is a net and let us swing back and forth and release ourselves, maybe even turning a somersault or two, and reach out with both hands to seek the on-coming future with hope and with joy.

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