Epiphany 3 – C

January 21, 2007

The Rev. Dorian McGlannan

 

On a certain Monday in the last year of the 20^th century, I met with a young woman in my former congregation as she was turning in the church newsletter which she had faithfully edited for several years. I gave Virginia a hug as she left to go to the airport to catch a flight to visit her parents in Alabama. Four days later she was dead from a massive brain aneurism. Her husband Dave was devastated, a widower at age 40 with two young boys. He spent many hours in our living room and the living room of so many others weeping, having no idea how to move out of his grief. He did eventually begin to work through the grief process and about four years later remarried a lovely woman. Through this whole process, Virginia’s parents were also understandably devastated. Their wonderfully gracious daughter, lost to them in but a 24-hour period. As they came to terms with their loss, one of their greatest fears was that of losing contact with their grandchildren. As it turns out, Dave and his new wife have happily included Virginia’s parents in their lives and the children are blessed to have 3 sets of grandparents. 

 

Today’s Hebrew Scripture reading from Nehemiah offers a counter-cultural way of looking at despair. Our culture does not encourage us or give us the tools to deal with loss. Consequently when I read an article in this week’s New York Times about how many of the spouses of people killed in the 9/11 terrorist attack have broken off ties with their former in-laws, the opposite of Dave’s situation, all I could think was that the survivors are still plagued by unresolved grief, they have given into despair.

 

This story from Nehemiah tells us not to give in to despair and gloom but to choose the radical option of joy. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah are the last of the historical books in the Hebrew Scriptures. They begin with an account of the return of the Israelites from the Babylonian exile. Following the humiliating defeat of Judah by pagan Babylon, and a demoralizing life in exile, Nehemiah led the fourth stage of reconstruction and repopulation of Jerusalem. The selection we heard today is a celebration of the rebuilding of the fallen walls of Jerusalem. As is true of any kind of restoration following destruction, the celebration of the new undoubtedly recalls the destruction in some way or manner. It is unavoidable. Nehemiah gathers the people together to begin the celebration of the ancient festival the Feast of Booths. Right from the start he says: “This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep. Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine …do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” 

 

Yes, there was a need and time to mourn the devastation of Jerusalem but there also came a time to move forward and to rejoice; however modest the remnant’s circumstances were compared with former times and expectations. 

 

The joy of the Lord is an explicitly religious term. It is not to be confused with secular happiness which too often is linked to enhancement of our circumstances – health, success, fame wealth, pleasure fun or good fortune.  Secular happiness is always connected to some sort of external factor – a new car, a bigger house and so forth. Such happiness seldom has any enduring quality. In fact, many people who have the most luxurious of material circumstances suffer from restless souls.

 

The joy of the Lord of which Nehemiah writes comes from deep within us, from God interacting and satisfying the most needful parts of our souls. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis writes: “I doubt whether anyone who has tasted joy would ever exchange it for all the pleasures in the world.” Because of the level of satisfaction and contentment that accompanies spiritual joy, history is full of those who have indeed walked away from worldly pleasures to satisfy their need for spiritual joy. Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, Francis of Assisi to name but a few of the spiritual giants of our faith, all came from families of great means, but each of them knew that real joy comes not from the trappings of material life, but from God.

 

How we in this day and age can get to the point of truly living this kind of detached life is another story altogether, especially in light of recent scientific neurological research which indicates that there is an actual neurological difference between people who suffer from the “buy it now” syndrome and those with more restraint. Just as today’s young children’s brains seem to be wired to be able to operate computers from birth, our brains have become wired toward consumption. Older people, especially those who survived the depression and WW II don’t understand the materialism of subsequent generations. And in reality, it is one of the great challenges of postmodern living. That’s why people who work in the area of spirituality and finance say that the first thing people who are trying to get control of their finances have to do is write down every penny they spend and walk away from any purchase other than food or gas for at least a day and then come back and determine whether or not this is a real need. It is the only way to deal with impulse spending. When we incorporate these disciplines into our lives, we begin to experience the spiritual joy of which Nehemiah writes.

 

Not surprisingly, spiritual writer Henri Nouwen tells us that “there is a great difference between success and fruitfulness.  Success comes from strength, control and respectability…Success brings many rewards and often fame. Fruits, however”, Nouwen continues, “come from weakness and vulnerability.  Fruits are unique. A child is the fruit conceived in vulnerability, community is the fruit born through shared brokenness.” Nouwen beckons us to remember that what brings us true joy is not success but fruitfulness. 

 

May our lives be nourished and enriched by the story of the Hebrew people and their quest to restore their beloved homeland. Let us remember that they were able to experience joy despite the restored Israel being a shadow of what they had known. Let us remember that as we become closer to God, much of what matters in worldly terms becomes meaningless to a heart grounded in faith. Let us remember, let us remember.