Watching and Waiting

Debbie Cato

Isaiah 64:1-9 and Mark 13:24-37

Peace Presbyterian Church

November 30, 2014 – First Sunday of Advent

“Watching & Waiting”

Our passage from Isaiah this morning is a lament on behalf of the Israelite community. A lament is a wailing; a mourning out of deep grief. The kind that comes from deep inside you in the midst of overwhelming suffering and sorrow. A lament is crying out to God in the depths of pain and despair.

We know that kind of pain; the kind of pain that fills your soul. We know that kind of grief. Our beloved Bernice died early Wednesday morning; after sharing her life with Paul for 59 years. Pat Lanier was in the hospital over Thanksgiving and just went home yesterday. Sterling, Bob, and Roger are all fighting illnesses. Two months ago we said good-bye to dear Phyllis. Each of us has had suffering and sorrow in our lives that fills our body and causes us to cry out - “Where are you, God?” We can relate to the cry, “O Lord, that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.”¹

The Israelite people are hurting. They are trying to find understanding in the midst of their pain. The Babylonian empire has conquered Jerusalem and the people are disoriented. Their sanctuary lies in ruin. The crisis shook the religious foundation of the community to its' very core. They turn to God and ask, “Where are you God?” and “Why did this happen?”

Hundreds of years later, Jesus is talking with his disciples, trying to help them understand what is going to happen in the future. Jesus is getting ready to leave them. It's time for him to go be with His Father in heaven. “But, I will come again,” he tells his disciples. “When?” they ask. “When will you come again? How will you come again?” “Watch and wait,” he tells them.

These are the Scripture readings we are given for this first Sunday of Advent. The season of Advent is a time when the church is reminded to wait and prepare for the coming Messiah. Advent is a time when we are filled with new hope in the impending birth of the baby Jesus – the Savior of the world.

Advent is a time when we are reminded that there is a big difference between waiting for Christmas and waiting for Christ. Waiting for Christmas is about getting the decorations up and the shopping done. It's about scurrying and over scheduling. It's about running to get everything done until we are so exhausted that we can't enjoy any of it. But this busyness; what the world has us believe is Christmas, has nothing to do with Christ.

We cannot buy our way into Christ. Waiting and watching for Christ involves a painful longing; a bold allegiance. It requires passionate patience. Waiting for Christ requires us to draw on our collective memories of God's people as a source of hope for the future – hope we sorely need today.

In the season of Advent, Christians imaginatively enter a time of waiting for the Christ child. The Christ who comes as God, hidden in human form. The Christ who comes to reveal the power of the powerless in his self-giving act on the cross.

There's a beautiful story that's told about watching and waiting for Christ that I would like to share with you. The author is unknown, but I challenge you to listen and see how this kind of attitude might change you – might change us as a church. How it might change our community.

As the story goes, there was once a great religious order of monks. It was a decaying monastery that only had five monks remaining. The order was dying. In the surrounding deep woods, there was a little hut that a Rabbi from a nearby town used from time to time.

The monks always knew the Rabbi was home when they saw the smoke from his fire rise above the treetops. As the Abbot of the monastry agonized over the imminent death of his order, it occurred to him to ask the Rabbi if he could offer any advice that might save the monastery.

The Rabbi welcomed the Abbot and invited him into his hut. When the Abbot explained the reason for his visit, the Rabbi could only commiserate with him. “I know how it is,” he exclaimed. “The Spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore. The Abbot and the Rabbi sat together discussing the Bible and their faiths. When the time came for the Abbot to leave, he said, “It has been a wonderful visit, but I have failed in my purpose. Is there nothing you can tell me to help save my dying order?”

“The only thing I can tell you,” said the Rabbi, “is that the Messiah is among you.”

When the Abbot returned to the monastery, his fellow monks gathered around him and asked, “What did the Rabbi say?” “He couldn't help,” the Abbot answered. “The only thing he did say, as I was leaving, was that the Messiah is among us. Though I do not know what these words mean.”

In the months that followed, the monks pondered this and wondered whether there was any possible significance to the Rabbi's words: “The Messiah is among us.”

Could he possibly have meant that the Messiah is one of us monks here at the monastery, they wondered? If that's the case, which one of us is the Messiah? Do you suppose he meant the Abbot? Yes! If he meant anyone, he probably meant Father Abbot. Certainly he could not have meant Brother Elred! Elred gets crotchety at times. But, even so, come to think of it, Elred is virtually always right. Maybe the Rabbi did mean Brother Elred.

Of course, the Rabbi didn't mean me, each monk thought to themselves. He couldn't possibly have meant me. I'm just an ordinary person. Yet – supposed he did? Suppose I am the Messiah!

As they contemplated in this manner, the monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off-chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And, in turn, each monk began to treat himself with extraordinary respect.

Now it happened that people would still occasionally come to visit the beautiful forest and monastery. Without even being conscious of it, visitors began to sense a powerful spiritual aura at the monastery. They were sensing the extraordinary respect that now filled the place.

Hardly knowing why, people began to come to the monastery frequently – to picnic, to play, and even to pray. They began to bring their friends, and their friends brought their friends.

Then it happened that some of the younger men who came to visit the monastery started to talk more and more with the older monks. After a while, one asked if he could join them. Then, another and another asked if they too could join the Abbot and the older monks. Within a few years, the monastery once again became a thriving order; a vibrant center of light and spirituality in the realm.²

Anyhow – that's the story. It seems to speak to me about the power the risen Christ

has to change even our lives. Even when it seems His kingdom has fallen into ruin; even though we can't see Him walking along the way with us as he did with His disciples, He is here. This is a story about how followers of Christ become witnesses to his life-giving presence – even after thousands of years. It doesn't matter if Jesus could eat a bit of fish with the disciples back then. What does matter, is what does it mean now? What does it mean for us today?

Truth is, we don't usually see or meet Jesus in a vision of nailed-scarred hands and feet as the disciples did. We meet Jesus in the illegal alien picking produce in the field, or the checkout clerk at a big box store. We meet Jesus in the youngster fidgeting in the seat next to us, while we quietly try to pray or listen to a sermon. We meet Jesus at the food bank, in the prison or in our home. We meet Jesus in strangers and in friends. Do you want to see the face of God? Look at the person sitting next to you!

Others see and meet the risen Christ in us! We are the witnesses to the power of God to transform life – to make life new. Just as important as it is to see Christ in others, it is important that others have the chance to see Christ in us. Each day, we may be someone's last and best hope to see the love of God in their lives; to know that God is present with them and loving them in a way that can make a difference for them. Do you want to see someone created in God's image? Look in the mirror! Odds are you'll recognize the face looking back at you!

The choice is ours – whether to serve God with heavy hearts or with the hope and joy and grace of the transformed monks in the story. The choice is ours – are we willing to seek the face of Christ in our presence? Will we believe that the Messiah is among us?

We are witnesses when we invite someone to look into our homes, our families, our

friendships, our work, our checkbook – and find Jesus there. We are witnesses

when we allow ourselves to be touched by folks who are lost and afraid. We are a witnesses when we rest in God's peace in spite of our circumstances. We are witnesses when we live in a way that defies any explanation other than the presence of the living Christ within us.

And this living God – this risen Christ – isn't stuck in the pages of a story from long ago. This risen Christ is real today. This risen Christ can and does change lives today. My friends – my sisters and brothers in Christ – you are the people of God. The Messiah is among you.

Let's remember this, as we watch and wait together this Advent season.

1Isaiah 64:1

2 The Rabbi's Gift. Author unknown, adapted from “The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace,” by Dr. M. Scott Peck.  

Finding God in Cannon Beach

November 23, 2014


I've been at Cannon Beach Christian Retreat center since Thursday for a week of study leave.  My goal was to finish writing a Bible study on The Book of Acts.  I had already written 11 chapters but I had 17 left to write and I just wasn't finding the time during my "normal" schedule.  I also brought three books that  I wanted to read  -  (I always bring more than I could possibly read).  And, yes of course I intended to relax a little bit, enjoy the beach, and knit.

My room is comfortable - nothing fancy.  I haven't seen or talked to anyone since I got here and there's no T.V.  It's very quiet.  I am very alone.  At first it was uncomfortable.  I always have the T.V. on and it was eerily quiet without it.  Nothing to distract me; no noise to fill the quiet.  But a peace has come over me.  Just being still and quiet has removed all the other voices, the distractions from my mind.  Instead, I hear God, and we are having conversations.

During my stay there have been strong coastal storms. I love storms. The big evergreen tree outside my window has been dancing around, whirling and bowing about.  God spoke through the sound of the huge branch beating against the balcony, saying "Nothing is stronger than I am.  I am your All-Powerful, Sustaining God."  The rain beats against the building - sometimes in a light, rhythmic sort of way that is soothing in the quiet.  Other times the rain pelts and stabs the windows and the walls and the roof and I hear God saying, "Beloved, let me wash away your worries, your fears, and your anxieties." There have been claps of thunder so loud and long-lived that it seems as if  they come from the very depths of the sea.  In the thunder, God reminds me that He is the Creator of all that was and is and is to come.  "This is my plan," God seems to say.  Leave it to me.  I am in charge.

This is my 3rd full day here.  I've written 12 chapters of the study, read most of one book, and I've done a fair amount of knitting.   Yet, I feel relaxed and whole and focused on God.  I've become comfortable in the silence, knowing that He is with me.  He always has been of course, and He always will be. I just need to take time now and then to be still.  To be quiet.  To hear His voice.


Psalm 147:1-20   
Praise the LORD! How good it is to sing praises to our God;
    for he is gracious, and a song of praise is fitting.  
The LORD builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel.  
He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.  
He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. 
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. 
The LORD lifts up the downtrodden; he casts the wicked to the ground.  
Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre.  

He covers the heavens with clouds, prepares rain for the earth, makes grass grow on the hills. 
He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry.  
His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner;  
     but the LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.  
Praise the LORD, O Jerusalem!   Praise your God, O Zion!  

For he strengthens the bars of your gates; he blesses your children within you.  
He grants peace within your borders; he fills you with the finest of wheat.  
He sends out his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly.  
He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes.  
He hurls down hail like crumbs-- who can stand before his cold?  
He sends out his word, and melts them; he makes his wind blow, and the waters flow.  
He declares his word to Jacob, his statutes and ordinances to Israel. 
He has not dealt thus with any other nation; they do not know his ordinances. 
     Praise the LORD! 

God's Got It Covered!

Rev. Debbie Cato

Matthew 6:24-34

Peace Presbyterian Church

November 16,2014

God's Got It Covered!

Under the current administration, the economy is prospering. Wheat, olives and wine exports have never been more significant or profitable. The fishing industry is booming. It has even expanded to include dried fish - which everyone seems to love.

About 200,000 – 300,000 people live here. The powerful business leaders and politicians are growing wealthier every day. Along with the rich upper class, there is a middle class just like most communities have. They are able to take care of their families without any problem as long as the businesses in the community are thriving. But by far, the majority of the population is lower class. In fact, the gap between the upper class and the lower class is growing. Most of the low-income citizens in the community work hard every single day. They are tenant farmers, day laborers, laborers on fishing boats. You know, they do the kind of jobs that the rest of us take for granted but would miss if they weren’t being done.

Yes, Galilee during the time of Jesus' ministry is a rich prosperous community. Life is good – very comfortable. But the people that crowded around Jesus that day were not the wealthy or even the middle class people of Galilee. Things were not “good” for Jesus' audience. The folks listening to Jesus’ teach are poor. They are the working poor. They work as hard as they can but still struggle to meet the basic needs of their families. And Jesus tells them “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.”

You probably thought I was describing the United States didn’t you?! It’s interesting how similar the economies are. As a nation, we have enjoyed prosperity for many years. But there's another side to our story; a dark side.

We live in the world's wealthiest nation. Yet 14.5 percent of U.S. households—nearly 49 million Americans, including 15.9 million children—struggle to put food on the table.¹  The price of food is increasing at alarming rates and those numbers are going up and not down. The housing market is struggling to recover after thousands of hardworking families lost their homes. Gun violence continues to take the lives of our children. Our politicians spend more time fighting with one another than solving critical issues in our country. And Jesus tells us, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.”

God spoke this passage into my life for the first time about 25 years ago. I was a single mom with a baby and a 3 year old. I was a CPA working full-time, well-respected in my community. Yet because of circumstances in my life, we struggled – big time. One night in particular, driving home from work with my babies in car seats in the back, I realized I had nothing to give them for dinner. They had finished the last of the milk at breakfast. They had eaten the last of our food for dinner the night before. Our cupboards were bare. As I got closer to home, praying all the way, I heard God say, “Do not worry. I know what you need.”

As I pulled into my driveway, I cried when I saw bags of groceries sitting at my front door. I don’t know who left them but Tracy had her favorite baby food for dinner that night and Jessica and I ate hamburger, green beans, and bread for dinner. The girls had milk to drink. God knew what we needed.

In spite of God’s amazing provision – and I have many similar stories - I still worry. I can worry better than anyone else! In fact, I worry when I don’t have anything to worry about!

Do you worry? Why is it that we can have experiences where it is absolutely clear that God met our need and yet the next time we are in crisis we don’t believe He will help us? You see, worry is a form of disbelief. Worry is a mental and emotional response of concern or fear to vague or unspecified threats. What will I do if? What happens if? What if? Worry is a response to something that not only hasn’t happened but might not happen at all!

Worry interferes with our comfort and peace of mind. How many hours of sleep have you lost because you were worried about an appointment the next day? How many vacations have you spent worrying about what was happening at work without you, rather than relaxing and enjoying your time away? How many times has your quiet time or prayer time with God been interrupted by worry?

You see, to really understand this passage, to really get it - we must fully appreciate that Jesus’ is directing his words to people who do have to sow, and reap and toil and spin. He wasn’t telling them to stop doing those tasks; he simply wanted them to understand that their lives were a lot more than the sum of their work. He wants us to know that our lives are more than the sum of our work.

Jesus gives us an alternative to worry. Jesus ties his call to not worry to the Kingdom of God. Just as he told the crowd of Galileans he tells us. Do not worry. Rather, seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Jesus is teaching us that our primary concern must be the Kingdom of God. Our number one priority must be God. Jesus is teaching us a way of looking at life where God is at the center of all that we are, everything we can be and everything we need. It's about the most essential relationship in our lives. It's a relationship that changes how we look at everything in our life. It's a relationship that promises us life eternal.

Today’s gospel teaching is about reminding ourselves that God IS first. It's about reminding ourselves that God is in charge of life. It's about reminding ourselves that God is the creator and we are the created. Why wouldn’t God perfectly provide for someone he so lovingly created?

Today is Stewardship Sunday – the day we submit our financial pledge toward the ministries of this church for the coming year. Today we say to God; this is what I pledge to give back to you out of gratefulness and trust, for the growing of your kingdom here on earth. I trust you were prayerful about your pledge. I hope you trust that God will provide for you – he promises that he will. “Do not worry, he says.”

Jesus is calling us not to be distracted by worry. At the root, worry is a shortage of hope and trust. But God, who gave us life, will provide for our needs. We can be sure that the Father who provided for us yesterday will also provide for us tomorrow.

None of this is to say that we won’t have some normal worries. We can’t love someone without worrying about threats to his or her well-being. We cannot be sensitive persons without occasional concern that we haven’t done all we should. We cannot listen to the news without some uneasiness about the direction many things in the world appear to be going.

We are human and our limited understanding of God gets in our way of really, really getting it. God knows our needs and He will provide. Jesus tells us that if we stay focused on God, if we keep our thoughts on Him, we won’t be preoccupied with worrying.

Having concern or interest in someone or something that is important to us is one thing. But to expend our energy on anxiety, to spend our time fretting, to be “unduly concerned” about something doesn’t help us. God is in control. God loves us more than we can imagine. God knows our needs. God has it covered. If we focus on the things of God, we’re able to relax and have confidence in God’s providential care.

There is a story about a far away land that was ruled by a vicious king. His iron fist reached into every corner of his subjects' lives. Every corner, except one. Try as he might, he couldn't destroy their belief in God. In his frustration, he finally summoned his advisors and asked them: "Where can I hide God so the people will forget about him?"

One advisor suggested hiding God on the dark side of the moon. His idea was debated, but it was voted down because the advisors feared that their scientists would one day discover a way to travel into space and God would be discovered again. Another suggested burying God in the deepest part of the ocean. But there was the same problem with this idea, so it was also voted down.

One idea after another was suggested and debated and rejected. Until finally, the oldest and wisest advisor had a flash of insight. "I know," he said, "why don't we hide God where no one will ever think to look? If we hide God in the ordinary events of people's everyday lives, they'll never find him!"

And so it was done. They say people in that land are still looking for God, even today.

Will you take time this week to find God in the ordinariness of your life? Where is God meeting your needs that you aren’t recognizing? How is God providing for your needs but you are missing it because you are so caught up in worry? Perhaps we focus too much on expecting extraordinary provision when all along, God is in the everyday, ordinariness of our lives.

God is sovereign. God created us, he loves us, and he knows our needs. God will take care of us. God knows what we need. God has it covered.

May His kingdom come on earth, as in heaven. Amen.

1http://www.bread.org/hunger/us/

Just a Year ...

Philippians 4:6-7   Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

The Apostle Paul wrote this to the church in Philippi while he was in prison. His letter to the Philippians is full of joy and thanksgiving and hope – not attitudes one would expect from someone suffering in a first century prison. In spite of his circumstances, Paul believed that we can have peace and joy in the midst of suffering and hardship if we find our joy in Christ; if we have the peace of God which transcends any and all circumstances.   

I love Paul's letters. He believed. He walked the talk. I studied Paul and his writings in seminary. I read them on a regular basis. I preach from them. I too believe that we can be thankful in all circumstances. I have felt the peace of God in times when I should not have felt at peace. Yet, this past year, I did not live as I believe.

A year ago, I was in a very difficult job situation that was pulling me down.  I was empty because I was not serving a church and I began to believe that God had ended my call to pastoral ministry. I felt stuck and questioned God."  Why, I asked?"  "Where are you," I wondered. I knew in my head that this was just part of my journey but I stopped believing in my heart. The negative voices took over and instead of hearing God speak into my life, I heard old recordings. I did not have peace. I stopped feeling thankful.

God did not desert me. He was with me – protecting me from accepting the wrong call; serving the wrong church. He provided for my needs. He encouraged me through friends and family and a city that I missed when I was away. He sat with me as I wrestled with my faith. He held me while I cried. He gave me courage to speak out about the work environment.  I saw His face in my daughters as they spoke truth into my life. And then, when the time was right, he opened a door for me to walk through.

A year later, I can look back and say with certainty - “Yes! That was just part of my journey. God did not end my call; he put it on hold until the right call was available.” Now, I can see why [some] of the things I experienced, happened. Of course, I think. I should have been thankful in everything. I should have rested in God's peace that is beyond understanding. I should have trusted; I should have had more faith.

But I've learned that the should-haves will bury me. God already knows I'm human. He knows that my faith is like a roller coaster. Sometimes it's strong and I feel like I'm on the highest track. I'm excited and ready for the next thrill. He knows that sometimes, my faith wavers; that sometimes I feel like I'm in the front car, racing to the bottom trying not to vomit. God knows. He loves me anyway.

I wish I could say that I learned my lesson and in the future will have joy and peace in all circumstances but if I'm honest, I know myself. My faith will falter again. I will doubt and sink to the depths.  But I trust that, Praise Be to God, he will not desert me – again.