Holding
God's law in our hearts:
Meg
Illman-White
Jeremiah
31: 31-34; John 12:20-33
Just before
the war started, Ann Weems wrote:
On the edge of war, one foot already in,
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
I pray that stone hearts will turn
to tender heartedness,
and evil intentions will turn
to mercifulness…
… Ann Weems
“I will
put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts; I will be their God and they will be my people…”
We know what it is to live with a heart of stone.
The news coverage reminds us of the reality on a global scale. It frightens us. So does the ease with which relationships in our own lives
find themselves broken.
Jesus is talking to his disciples in John’s gospel. “unless a grain of
wheat dies and falls into the ground it cannot bear fruit”. How clearly we know this truth in terms of our own lives. How painfully easy
it is for us as individuals to be “at war”, even with those whom we long to love. Our own brokenness; our longing to be important,
powerful, influencial, our longing to be valued… all of these stand firmly in the way of our ability to live in supportive community with
one another.
Our 8 year old son Sean was walking towards the
front door on his way to school Friday morning when his eyes suddenly caught something and he turned, walked over to the newspaper sitting
on the floor and began hitting it. He wasn’t hitting it with violence or raw anger, but with uncertainty and frustration.
“What’s up Sean?”
I asked him, stealing a glance at the paper as I asked. The picture was of war refugees in Iraq. “why
is this happening mommy? Why can’t it just stop?”
“I will
put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts; I will be their God and they will be my people…”
The people of Israel knew all about living with
hearts of stone. In Jeremiah’s time they were facing exile by the Babylonian empire. They were a country under siege. Jeremiah, like the
prophets before him, had tried and tried to warn the people… Their message was simple and clear. Listen to the call of God. Treat others
with respect and honesty. Be just and merciful in your dealings with others.
God had tried nearly everything to connect with the
people. A rainbow in the sky, a promise to Abram and Sarah of descendants, stone tablets with the 10 commandments, a promise of Kingship for
ever… But nothing seemed to really sink in. The law was external. Forgotten and abandoned again and again. So God tries again:
“I will
put my law within
them and I will write it on their hearts; I will be their God and they will be my people…”
The war is affecting us all at a pretty deep level.
We too wonder where God is in this. We see not only global conflict, but the everyday conflict around us:
- As parents we see our children affected by bullying at school.
- As adults and teens we know how easy it is to “write off” someone who hurts us.
- We know what it is to have hearts of stone. A heart of stone hurts. It aches with pain because it is not what God
created hearts to do. The more we give into it, the more we allow the hurt to curl its icy fingers around our hearts, the more we ache. And,
after time, if it goes unchallenged, a heart of stone ceases to hurt… it becomes hardened… and it cannot see the “other”… it
forgets how to love…
Is war so distant from us? I don’t think so. War
is always just on the other side of a carelessly thrown word, a hastily sent email, a misunderstanding, a past hurt, a hasty judgement, an
attitude of criticism… War isn’t somewhere “out there”. At least it isn’t for me. War is about having a “stone heart” and not
knowing how to let it be chipped or broken down or changed. War is about the absence of hope: it is the inability to believe that God is
truly involved in our world.
Last Sunday as I got ready for Church, I overheard
Sean talking with David about the war. David was clearly pre occupied and was trying to duck this conversation for the moment. “Oh we just
have to keep praying I guess” I heard David say. “Hmm. Said Sean: “I think people are giving up on that already”!!
Sean wasn’t saying that he doesn’t believe in
the power of prayer. He wants to see signs that the church is acting with caring and courage. The Christian Church right across the United
States has been outspoken about the war from the beginning. From the strength of faith, Churches are decorating with blue ribbons, Churches
are organizing peace marches, writing letters and now sending massive amounts of aid. Our children look to us… for leadership. Our
children look to us to care. Our children demand that we too act as the hands and feet of the risen Christ…
Right in the midst of our darkness. In that dark
place of moist earth in which all feels lost. Right in the place in which we have no clue about our next direction. Right when our heart
feels stoniest, God comes… and reaches into our hearts and writes God's law upon our hearts.
Anne
Lamott writes: “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the
right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.
God's law that is written on our hearts is love.
Love can break down the strongest heart of stone. Love reaches into frozen, rigid places and thaws and warms and invites. Love can forgive
and in forgiving can find new possibility.
The Christian faith community is first and foremost
a place in which we are invited to experience that transforming love. The church is not a community of perfect people. The church is an odd
and faithful community of believers… each with their own particular gifts and dilemmas, ideas and needs:
1.
A community of hopeful sinners.
2.
A place in which we are called by the grace of God to wait and watch and work and not give up.
3.
To be tenacious in our trust in and hope for each other.
4.
To be hopeful in the face of war, to continually work and pray for miracles.
As we live on the edge of this war… let us look
for ways to be God's vision of hope for our community and world: let us balance the images of war with images of peace in our homes and in
our work and particularly with our children: after a conversation about the war, offer an activity that will give your children and
grandchildren hope:
- light a candle and set it outside your home as a prayer for peace
- pray for peace with your children and grandchildren
- put light blue “peace” ribbons around your home, wear them to work or school
- send a letter to the prime minister and encourage him in his decision not to go to war
- make a family “aid” jar and save money to help with the work that the M&S fund is doing in relief work for
displaced Iraqi’s
Sean at 8 years of age knows something about
transformational hope. Every adult should have to sit with this child when he celebrates communion. If you do, you will see that as we pray
the communion prayer he is listening with every fibre of his being. His eyes become teary when the prayer tells of Jesus’ last supper,
arrest and death. But when he moves from his seat to receive the bread and wine, he does so with such joy! In that moment Sean understands
that Jesus’ resurrection means that everything has changed. Until now he has known that this is something to celebrate. Now he believes
that this power of resurrection must make a real difference… and he wants to be part of that transformation.
- Someday, we hope he will discover that resurrection empowers him and compels
the church to stand firmly for peace.
- Someday we hope and trust he will experience the power and faith and perseverance of the church at prayer and in
action.
- Someday, we hope that Sean and Miriam and all our children will see Christ’s church as not only a church at prayer
but also a church at risk… a church in action… a church with the courage to call in Christ’s name for transformation and wholeness.
On the edge of
war, one foot already in,
I no longer pray for peace: I pray for miracles.
I pray that stone hearts will turn to tender heartedness,
and evil intentions will turn to mercifulness,
and all the soldiers already deployed will be snatched out of harm's way,
and the whole world will be astounded onto its knees.
I pray that all the "God talk"
will take bones, and stand up and shed its cloak of faithlessness,
and walk again in its powerful truth.
I pray that the whole world might sit down together and share its bread and its wine.
Some say there is no hope,
but then I've always applauded the holy fools who never seem to give up on
the scandalous ness of our faith:
that we are loved by God. . . .
that we can truly love one another.
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
Ann Weems