Reformation Sunday
October 29, 2023

The View from Nebo

Tom Are Jr.
Interim Pastor

Deuteronomy 34
Mark 1:14–15

Good morning, Fourth Church family. It is good to see you and to be with you this day. I am eager to know you and to do what I can to serve you in this brief period called Interim. This is quite the day at Fourth Church. It is Reformation Sunday, which shows up in our music and prayers and there are bagpipes. This is the first time I am privileged to preach for you, so I would like to tell you a bit about myself, but there other more important things, so that can wait. Namely it is Stewardship Commitment Sunday. If that is not cheery enough, our text today is the death of Moses. I’m preaching my first sermon on the death of Moses on Stewardship Commitment Sunday. We can all check that off our bucket lists. Well, with all of this going on, let us first read our text.

“After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. ‘The time has come,’ he said. ‘The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!’” (Mark 1:14–15)

The kingdom of God has come near. The kingdom of God, or reign of God, or perhaps God’s promised day, is a life, it is a way of being with God and one another that Jesus gave his life to make possible. It is a day we have never seen, not yet, but a day or way of living that we, as people of faith, are always living toward. I don’t know what the promised day of God makes you think of. Maybe you think of the folks of Chicago Lights real busy working crossword puzzles because everyone has enough today. Maybe you think of the children in the land that Jesus called home busy singing songs together rather than hiding in bunkers because their parents stopped choosing violence. Maybe you think of neighbors coming home from a bowling alley frustrated with their score but at least they still come home. Maybe you think of simpler things like old burdens being set down, old injuries being comforted, old fears being calmed.

I don’t know what you think of when life is lived as God intends it, but Jesus said he could show us what that life is like and, when we find it, then and only then we will be home.

The scripture says that even though his vigor was unabated and his sight was unimpaired, at the Lord’s command Moses dies. But before Moses dies, God drags him up Mount Nebo to show him the promised land. And as God does this God reminds Moses, you can’t enter the land. Home, your home, is right there, but you can’t go in.

Why would God do that? It’s bad enough that God forbids Moses to enter this land, but then to dangle it in front of him like this. It’s insulting. Had to be pretty rough for a guy who has spent his whole life living toward that promise.

But then, if I understand the text, that’s the point. Moses had spent his life living toward this land. Moses spent his life leading this people who complained all the time. Admittedly they did so because they didn’t have things like food and water, … I know some Presbyterians who can grumble pretty quickly when we don’t have the right condiments or wine parings.

After Moses spends a lifetime as a scout leader on an unending wilderness campout, every day saying it’s out there, it’s out there, the home that God promised us is out there — here, in Moses’ last moment, God takes him up Nebo and says, Look! There it is. Everything I promised you, it is all there. Everything you based your life on is all true.

That has been my experience with the kingdom of God, or God’s promised day. It is a day we have never seen, not in its fullness, but every now and then we get a glimpse. Every now and then we find ourselves standing on Nebo and God whispers in your ear, see, everything I promised you is true.

1987 was the bicentennial celebration of the drafting of the US Constitution. On a bright September day, Chief Justice Warren Burger waxed nostalgic. He said, “If we … [keep] faith with the vision of the founders … we will have done our part to see that the great new idea of government — by we the people — remains in place.” Burger believed our calling is to stay true to a vision held in 1787.

Associate Justice Thurgood Marshall offered an alternative voice. Marshall had argued Brown v. Board of Education before the court in 1954, and in 1967 became the first African American to sit on the highest court in the land. Marshall warned, “The focus of this celebration invites a complacent belief that the vision of those … in Philadelphia already yielded the ‘more perfect Union’ it is said we now enjoy.” Marshall added, “The government the Framers devised was defective from the start, requiring amendments, a civil war, and momentous social transformation” to better realize the promise of a more just society. Credit for the Constitution in its present meaning belonged not to the Framers,” Marshall concluded, but “to those who refused to acquiesce in outdated notions of ‘liberty,’ ‘justice,’ and ‘equality’ and who strived to better them” (Michael J. Graetz and Linda Greenhouse, The Burger Court and the Rise of the Judicial Right, p. 2).

Marshall believed in America but only because he trusted America is still becoming. He believed in an America he could not yet see, or perhaps only see in glimpses. But he trusted she was out there and worth living toward.

Faith is like that. Every day we live toward a day we have never known, but trust is out there — and now and then, we get a glimpse. And if you are like me, this is the reason you make a pledge to this church. More than anything else the work of Fourth Church is a declaration of hope in who we can become.

I got a call late on a Friday evening. “Reverend Are, we need to see you. It’s our marriage.” I said, of course. I have time tomorrow. She said, “Excellent, we will be at your office at 7:30.” In the morning?

I’m not a morning person. I know that there are those who spring to life with the rising of the sun. They are those for whom Jesus also died. But I think in God’s promised day, there will be about three mornings a week. They shouldn’t be banned, but having one every day is overdoing it.

Nevertheless, I rose with the alarm. Stopped for a bucket of coffee. I arrived, and they were waiting for me. I said, tell me what’s going on. She said, “We aren’t anything alike.” I looked at my coffee and said, say more about that. “Well, for example, we woke up last Saturday. I asked, ‘What would you like to do today?’ I was thinking, we might work in the yard before it gets too hot. After we mow the lawn, we could plant those shrubs I bought on Tuesday. Then you could hang the new ceiling fan, while I’m at the grocery store. After we paint the porch swing, we should pay the bills. But we don’t want to work all day, so then I thought we could drive out to the beach and take a long walk, find inner peace, and on the way back we could stop for lunch.”

“But that’s just me. What would you like to do today?” He says, ‘I was hoping to maybe get some coffee.” “Coffee!” she says. “That’s it?” “Well, it’s a start.” “That’s all you want out of the day? Just coffee? You see our problem don’t you, Reverend?” I looked at my coffee.

I used to be her. Except for the morning bit. I used to be seize the day, build it and they will come, take no prisoners, on to victory. Jesus brought the kingdom near, but I was sure we could bring it here! Maybe it’s my age, but my expectations have moderated. We as people of faith simply do not have the influence we once assumed we held. Time has taught me that the church is not always lost in wonder, love, and praise; sometimes we are just lost.

Don’t get me wrong. There are amazing things that happen in the church, in this church—you don’t have to be here long to see that. Jesus is Lord, but like him, we still live in Herod’s world. And the only power we really have is love. Love is a power, but it is a tender power. Love is a strength, but it is a vulnerable strength. And the victories of love are often modest.

When we look at a world with so much need, we as people of faith don’t feel very strong. And I wouldn’t blame you if that challenged your hope. But if you keep your eyes open, now and then you will get a glimpse of that coming day. From time to time you will find yourself standing on Nebo with God whispering in your ear, there it is; everything I promised you is true.

The congregation I served in Jacksonville, Florida, was across the street from a public park. Some of the unhoused in Jax called that park home. Often on my way into the church someone would ask for spare change or a cup of coffee.

One morning, I walked down the street to a coffee shop when one of the guys from the park spotted me. He said, “Sir, can I come in with you?” Sure, I said, come on.

I ordered my coffee and said, I’ll also pay for whatever he’s having. He said, “I just want a cup of water,” but then he put money on the counter. He said, “I’d like to buy this man’s coffee.”

I don’t understand, you’re buying my coffee?

“You’re the pastor of that church, right?” Yes. “You have a really nice choir.” Yes, we do. He said, “I used to sing in the choir when I was in college.” You were in college? “Yes, until my mom got sick, and I had to drop out. But I love the music, and Michael, your custodian, he lets me in the balcony when the choir is rehearsing on Thursday nights. I lie in a pew and listen. Reverend, it’s the best part of my week. For an hour I am surrounded by beauty. Don’t you love it when you are just surrounded by beauty? So, I just want to buy you a cup of coffee and ask you to thank the singers at your church.”

I’m sorry, what’s your name? “I’m Gabriel,” he said. Your name is Gabriel? “Yes sir. It’s a name from the Bible.” Yeah, I know that. Gabriel, would you like to come and sing with our choir. “Oh no,” he said. “I don’t sing anymore. But tell them last week’s anthem by Rutter — one of my favorites. You know, Reverend, someday it will be like that — just surrounded by beauty. Enjoy your coffee.” And he disappeared through the crowd.

Like you, I served a church that was surrounded by unhoused people. It was more than we could change; addressing the need left us feeling inadequate every day. And yet sometimes we get a glimpse of a new day that is surely coming. A day when we will be surrounded by beauty. And God whispers in your ear, don’t give up, don’t let go, everything I promised you is true.

Jesus said the kingdom of God has come near … and from time to time I’ve gotten glimpses of it; I imagine you have too.

In the walk of faith, our victories are modest. The needs of the world are overwhelming, and we feel small. And the only power we have is love — and love is a tender power; love is a strength, but it is a vulnerable strength, and often her victories are modest. But Fourth Church, keep doing the good that is yours to do. Keep sharing the love that is yours to share, and God will use that, and she will lead us to that promised day. But until that day comes in all its glory, keep your eyes open. From time to time, here and there, you will find our feet firmly planted on Nebo and God will whisper, see, it’s all true. Everything I promised you … it is all true.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church