The 8th Sunday after Pentecost
Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson
Good morning. It’s good to be back with you after a refreshing vacation. We had a week in Edisto Beach in South Carolina, and most of the rest of our vacation we spent in Tennessee, with a few days out in Georgia, where we had a wonderful visit with Fr. Tom and Martha Fitzgerald.
I give thanks to God always for you. Linda and I are so blessed to be a part of this community of faith, and we are grateful for the time you provide for us to refresh and renew ourselves.
Last Friday night we celebrated Independence Day here at Redeemer among the three hundred or so folks who turned out for our annual barbecue. As always, Don Peet and his dedicated helpers provided a most entertaining evening. The highlight, of course, was sitting on the lawn or parking lot, watching the fireworks, at the end of which our beautiful bells pealed for a good five minutes.
As I was sitting, watching the fireworks display, I found myself meditating on the beauty of God’s creation. I don’t know about you, but I rarely just sit and look at the sky at night. And there I was, for almost half an hour, gazing into the heavens, brightly lit up with bursts of color. I found myself thinking about the vast universe of which we are a part. We know so much more about it today than we have ever known. Our sun is an average-size star in a galaxy with countless stars, and our galaxy is just one of many galaxies. For instance, the largest nearby galaxy to the Milky Way is the Andromeda Galaxy. It’s 2.5 million light-years away, which means that the image we see of it in the sky took 2.5 million years to reach us. The enormity of the universe is something beyond our comprehension.
As my awareness of the vastness of the universe expanded, my consciousness of the smallness of our part of the universe also grew. We in the Judeo-Christian tradition make an astounding claim in light of the vastness of the universe. There is a God who has made all of this. That God is not just a force, but a personal God, who has a purpose for his creation. What is more astounding: he knows each one of us, calls us each by name, and sees into our hearts.
The ancient Hebrews didn’t know what we know about the universe. They knew it was vast, but they had no idea how vast. Yet their knowledge led David to pen a psalm that certainly speaks to what we know today:
“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses, what is man that you should be mindful of him? The son of man that you should seek him out?
“You have made him but little lower than the angels; you adorn him with glory and honor;
“You give him mastery over the works of your hands; you put all things under his feet…
“O Lord our Governor, how exalted is your Name in all the world!”
This God, who made the earth, the sun, and all of the galaxies, cares so much for us that he took flesh and became a human being in Jesus of Nazareth. He lived among us for a time, and suffered and died as a sacrifice for our sin.
It’s an amazing claim, and yet, it makes sense. This God who is so powerful that he made, from nothing, this vast universe, must have a purpose. And what better purpose could there be than to create beings who reflect his own nature?
That’s why God works so hard to bring us back to him, to turn our hearts to the love that brought all of this about. This God, who became flesh, says to us, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“Come to me,” says our Lord. Jesus seeks a response from us. Change your direction, he says to us. Stop looking for meaning in the wrong places, in seeking power over others, in acquiring things, in amassing wealth. Whatever you have made into your god has burdened you. Take your focus off of that and come to me.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.” Submit to my authority, says the Lord. Put away the pride that would have you trust in your own strength. Realize your dependence upon your heavenly Father. And realize that you can’t do it alone. You need one another. You need the Church. The image Jesus uses is of two animals harnessed together, so that what one could not do alone, two could easily handle. “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
That is what we are about. That is the faith into which you and I have been baptized. And yet, it’s not always easy to do. St. Paul recognized in his own life that there was a war going on in his own soul. “When I want to do right,” the apostle says, “evil lies close at hand.” For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members.”
And so, it seems that we cannot even come to Jesus without his help, without his grace. And that is what we do together, coming, by grace, to his Altar to receive him who wills for us to find our rest in him.
The God who made the vastness of the universe comes to us again this day that we may take his yoke upon us and learn from him, that we might find rest for our souls.