Our Refuge and Strength

Trinity A – a sermon based upon Psalm 46

Good morning. It is a true joy to be with you today on this Trinity Sunday where we celebrate that Christians are bad mathematicians or have a different kind of math… a math that says that 1 Father + 1 Son + 1 Holy Spirit = One Big God.

Okay, I figured that joke would either reveal that you were asleep or that I am a geek but I couldn’t help myself. The fact that we set aside a day to consider the Triune God, Trinity Sunday is an interesting thing to me. We definitely spend time talking about God, Jesus, and the Spirit. And we give a gentle nod to the fact that they are intertwined. But do we really stop to stand in awe of how amazingly God’s love, Christ’s redemption, and the Spirit’s creative energy works in and around us and with each other?

Today is probably a good day to do that because last week we talked about a pretty tough calling to keep reaching out even when we don’t understand other parts of the Body of Christ. And this week I said we’d look into our refuge, nurture, and growth together within a community of faith. And that’s what we’re going to do.

Today’s Psalm starts with a phrase familiar to many of us: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” This Psalm shows a great deal of trust and hope on our part in a God that is ever present and truly helpful in our daily lives. But is it just trust and hope? Could it be the Psalmist’s experience that first brought these words to song and then to paper? Could it be that for all our struggles to feel God’s presence, we still have a powerful experiences of and a deep knowledge of God?

I suspect so and on this day, the day of the church picnic where we share in the joy of fellowship, there is no better time to look at our experiences of each other and God in our midst. So, let’s look deeper at this Psalm and more closely at this community.

The 46th Psalm is broken into 3 different sections. The first looks at the turbulence of the earth. The second considers the unrest of people and nations. Finally the third upholds experience of God in being still and recognizing God’s works.

On first look you may think, now what does that have to do with our refuge, nurture, and growth together within a community of faith? Well, there are lots of ways to look at this Psalm. If we were soldiers in Iraq or Afghanistan, we may be looking at it for what it says about God’s dealings in political matters. And if we lived in earthquake ravaged Haiti or tornado torn Joplin, MO, we might center in on God’s work of creation in spite of the ebb and flow of nature and destruction. But for today, let’s look at it from right here… from this community of faith.

See, we know what it’s like for the “waters roar” and the land to tremble. The recent floods and storms have reminded us just how fragile our things of human design are. And if we look back in time, we need not go too far to see the damage wrought by nature. We also know what it’s like for the nations to roar and put our sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, grandchildren, parents and loved ones in harm’s way. But in the big times, the everyday times, and all the in between times, how do we know that God is our refuge and our strength?

Well, if you’ll indulge me, I think I have a unique prespective on this question. I’ve been helping in worship at First Pres consistently for over a year now and a few times before that over 2 years. But I’ve not been here for worship only. I’ve talked with many of you during coffee hour. I’ve sat in some of your homes to grieve. We’ve run into one another at local festivals or stores. Even as recently as last week, we’ve shared in the joy of baptisms and new members. You’ve reached out to me and to one another and much much more. And all along I’ve been watching. I’m a people watcher and you’ve given me plenty to take in.

See, during times of looking for a new pastor, some churches spend thousands of dollars on a consultant that comes in and studies a congregation to then give them a report telling them what was observed. But as someone who loves and cares about you, I’m going to tell you for free what I’ve seen.

In you, I have seen that there are more ways for the waters and nations to roar than just literal ones. The very foundations of many of your lives have been rocked by things that happened in your life or the lives of those around you. Unthinkable deaths, illnesses too scary to talk about with more than a few people, losses that leave you questioning how to cope and how to support one another have swept through in the past year just as they do in all years.

But I listened to your words to one another. I heard you say things like, “I don’t know what to say to make it better but I am here for you” or “I am grateful I have you around me to help us through this.” I also watched your actions. You sent cards, shared rides, offered meals, and shared with one another. You have been that beautiful interplay of God’s love, Christ’s healing, and the Sprit’s binding that one another need. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

However, I’ve been watching during more than just the crisis moments. I’ve watched the everyday times and if you ask me, the true measure of a community is not only in how well they rise to the occasion of crisis but what they do day in and day out. I see that you love to learn and grow.

You have church school, Sunday night conversations, Tuesday evening studies, VBS, and other special events. And those events are not just about growing intellectually or spiritually but they are also about the time spent with one another in seeking and learning together.

I also have watched you in stewardship. I’ve overheard conversations of concern about how to deal with financial issues with integrity. I’ve witnessed the birth and development of new gifts and callings such as when I overheard one of you talk about something that needed to be fixed and then you realized that maybe it was your calling to fix it. And the coffee hour helpers, greeters, ushers, flower arrangers, table setters, dish washers, meal cookers, baked good donators (and eaters), liturgy helpers, prayers, and so much more can’t even begin to be calculated when you start to look at stewardship. This congregation loves to do things for one another and for each other and it’s awe inspiring to stand back and see. “The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

But all that I’ve named has been about the “doing” not about the “being.” The most meaningful things I can name about First Presbyterian as a congregation are about “being.” For example, everyone is interested in the search for a new pastor. And whether it’s the conversations I know are taking place in the PNC or the ones in the pews, those conversations are ongoing. Debate, vision, disagreement, and hope get tangled with practical concerns. And you know what? They should be messy or we’re not faithfully and fully seeking God’s guidance. But at the core of all the outward swirling and energy is a deep seeded desire to be together.

And this “being” goes further than just looking for a new pastor. In the past year, I’ve come up with a theory about this church that I’ve shared with many of you. The theory comes from why I think it is that you have a history of being so vibrant in times without a pastor when many congregations collapse. My belief is that your liveliness and growth comes from your deep knowledge that YOU are the Church, not some person standing here. You know that WE are the body of Christ using all kinds of different gifts and I suspect that some of those gifts come out even more during times without consistent pastoral leadership.

Faith like that can’t be bottled and it can’t be taught. But it can be cultivated by relationships of people being with each other and being one another’s refuge and nurture. “Be still, and know that I am God!”

“Be still, and know that I am God” is an utterance that invites being not doing. On a day like today where we celebrate fellowship with one another the thing I’ve learned most strongly about this community is that whether it’s in committee or in the pews, there is a yearning for God. Some of you describe it as that feeling you get that keeps you coming back. Others identify it through what you do. But no matter how you think about it, that desire and longing for God finds some sort of voice here.

Sisters and brothers, our calling is into community… a community that holds and nurtures. As we spend time together and in the days and years to come, God invites us to be still and consider how that yearning for God has been fulfilled. We’re invited to step into the wonder of the trinity as God’s partners in creation. If it has been lacking, we’re invited to question what can we do to let down our own walls or to help reach through the barriers of fear that others have.

Now, I’m not naive enough to think that we live in a culture where all our spiritual and emotional needs can be taken care of by one group of people. The fact of the matter is that God’s refuge and strength enter our lives from many places and often our closest supports are outside this community. And that’s okay. But while we’re here and when we’re considering what we want here to be like, God’s invitation is for us to pause in gratitude for what this faith community has been in our lives. God’s invitation is to know that no matter what comes along, we are not alone. “God is our refuge and strength.” Amen.