Gracious and loving God, we give you thanks, once again, for your continual presence in our lives. Remind us today, and every day, that we are called to boldly respond to your inviting voice. Through Christ we pray together. Amen.

 

 

 

 

I thought I would begin this morning by sharing a personal story. This is a story I haven’t told many people. The reason I haven’t told many people is because I do not want it to appear like this is solely a story about me or about what I did. I’m telling it with a bit of apprehension, and a trust you will recognize it’s not told for self-congratulation. Rather, I share it to help identify the ways in which God continues to be present in our midst.

 

Almost nine months ago I happened to be walking my dog, Bingo. He’s heard the song, “B-I-N-G-O was his name O,” several times from little kids. He’s an 85-pound half-border-collie-half-Australian-shepherd. We were walking along the trails of Twin Lakes. One of my favorite activities at the end of the day in winter is to go home, grab Bingo, and as the sun sets, take a short walk.

 

This particular evening was quite chilly. It was almost the end of February. The walk started out perfectly. I saw several deer. A few birds tough enough to survive last winter were chirping, and the geese were playing in a small pool of unfrozen water in the lake. 

 

Toward the end of the hike I was ready to be home. The tips of my fingers through my gloves felt numb, and I could just imagine how good sitting down in the warm house would feel. 

 

I made it to the parking lot, loaded up Bingo, turned the key, put the heater on high, and started to back up. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that looked a little strange. There was one other car in the parking lot. It was an SUV with a dog sitting outside next to the back, passenger door looking panicked, I thought. 

 

For a moment I continued to back up, and then I looked again at the dog. I thought to myself, “Something just isn’t right. The dog does not seem to be acting normal.” 

 

I pulled the car back into the parking lot, parked, and got out. I watched the dog for a few moments wondering where its owner was. Then far off, I listened to the sounds of children playing in the woods, screaming something at one another. But as I listened to the sound of children, I thought, “How strange it is that children are playing in the woods so late in the evening, not to mention the cold weather.” 

 

Then, almost in a split second, it dawned on me. The voices I was hearing were not the sound of children, but the sounds of someone screaming. It was one of those screams you never want to hear – a scream that literally screamed of panic. I started to run toward the voice, and at the same time I thought how foolish it was I did not have my cell phone with me. After just a few seconds, I could hear someone yelling, “Help me. Help me!” 

 

“It’s OK,” I answered. “I’m right here.” 

 

By this point, I saw another dog. Then at the bottom of a steep ditch, in the middle of a creek, stood a woman caught in mud and water. At first I didn’t know what to do. We had so much snow and ice last winter I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull her up the ravine. I was afraid if I left to get help, it would take too long. It was getting dark, and I knew she was in immediate danger. 

 

Without having much of a plan, I slid down the ditch. I grabbed her arms, tied a leash around her waist, and started the slow process of pulling her up the side of the hill. For several minutes I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get her up. She was so shaken and scared she had a hard time walking or even crawling. Eventually, I pulled her up. It never felt so good to sit down on flat, solid ground and ask her if she was OK. 

 

As soon as she could recover her breath, she asked me for my name. I told her, and then… This is the part where I’m a little hesitant to tell the rest of the story. She said, “Jacob, God must have sent you tonight. You are my angel. I’m not sure I could have survived without you.” 

 

At that moment I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I was sure that while she was standing in the ditch screaming as loudly as she could, God had never left her side. 

 

In preparing for this sermon, I thought a lot about that evening. I wonder why when I first backed up the car I did not drive home. I truly believe that, somehow, I sensed the urgency of a new call. It was a call that could not have been anticipated, but at the same time could not be ignored. It was a call that was clear yet confusing. It was a call that now encourages me to ask, “How do we choose our course of actions, and are our choices and decisions spiritually based?” 

 

You see… Life is full of choices. There is the path we choose, the path that is given, and the path we choose out of what we are given. 

 

Here at Broadway, at the present moment, we are embracing and examining the paths that are now open to us. If you’re visiting Broadway for the first time today, you’re joining us at an exciting time in our lives. We just finished an intentional 40 days of prayer. We’re attempting to discern the ways in which God is shaping the future of Broadway Christian Church. Today, as we embrace a period of transition, we’re starting new small groups and new Sunday School classes. For both visitors and long-time members, I encourage you to take some time and look at all the new opportunities we have to join with one another and grow in faith and fellowship. We have everything from cooking and hiking small groups to new Sunday School classes and fellowship groups. 

 

If you’re interested in these groups but haven’t had a chance to sign up yet, don’t worry. There is till time to join and participate. How do you determine what small group or Sunday School class to take? Or perhaps an even larger question, and a question we have been thinking about and praying about for sometime, how do we determine the next step for Broadway Christian Church?

 

The writer of the book of Hebrews had similar questions. Until the Twelfth Chapter, the chapter that we heard this morning, the book of Hebrews finds its people traveling through the paths of life, based on a deep and abiding trust in God and Christ. In fact, at one point early on, the writer of the book of Hebrews compares their situation to that of Moses. 

 

Moses, like us, often faced times of transition. According to the book of Exodus, Moses was born to a Hebrew mother who hid him when a pharaoh ordered all newborn Hebrew babies to be killed. Moses ended up being adopted into an Egyptian royal family. Then once he was grown, Moses fled the land and became a shepherd. As a shepherd he heard a calling from God, a call that was not anticipated, but could not be ignored. It was a call that was clear yet confusing. A call that forced Moses to ask, “How do I choose my course of actions, and should my choices be spiritually based?” 

 

God told Moses he had been chosen to lead God’s people, but Moses had no idea what to expect. In fact, Moses was fairly certain he was not the right person to do the job. Despite his hesitations though, Moses led the Hebrew people out of slavery and Egypt. For 40 long years they wandered the desert. They really didn’t have it easy at all. Moses and his followers experienced a variety of hardships. Death, disease, poverty, war, hunger, sickness, isolation, and fear were always present.

 

At one point, Moses and his followers faced utter starvation. They were at the point that if they did not eat soon, they would die. That night they prayed to God for sustenance. It was the kind of prayer where there is panic in your voice and in your heart. The kind of prayer where you pray for God’s will to be done, but you know that if a miracle does not happen soon, your time on this earth will soon be over. 

 

Then the writers of Exodus tell us that the next morning, manna, food from heaven, arrived. There was a thin coat of food over the entire ground that gave the Hebrews, our ancestors, strength and energy. 

 

Years ago I remember hearing this story for the first time. I was so intrigued that God would rain down food from the sky. However, as I got older, I started to doubt the reality of this story. I could not understand, from a scientific point of view, how food could fall from the sky. 

 

As I thought about the story more and more, I realized that the story, despite my initial concerns, was profoundly true. When the Hebrew people, God’s people, our ancestors, were forced to face a new journey, God was there to provide. The Hebrew people knew if they looked to God during times of uncertainty, they would be provided for. 

 

Moses faced the same choices that we face. There is a path that we choose, the path that is given, and the path we choose out of what we are given. 

 

I think Moses, just like you and me, experienced an unanticipated call from God that could not be understood, but could not be ignored. Moses recognized, just as we all should recognize, that the first step in responding to a call, that may not make perfect sense, is to trust in the love and guidance of God. Moses knew that God could be trusted to guide them through the path of life. 

 

At the same time, Moses knew something I know I have often overlooked. Perhaps you, at one time or another, have overlooked as well. The writer of the book of Hebrews referred often to Moses, because Moses understood you couldn’t go forward without remembering those who have gone before. 

 

In a final farewell speech, when it is clear that Moses will not be able to cross the Jordan River and reach the Promised Land, Moses attempts to impart the wisdom he has learned in his 120 years of life. In Deuteronomy 4, Moses says, “Never forget the things your eyes have seen, nor let them slip from your mind all the days of your lives. Make them known to your children and your children’s children.” 

 

What Moses is saying, and what we hear from our reading this morning from the book of Hebrews, is a recognition that, no matter what the next step is in our transition process, we have a great cloud of witnesses who have gone before.

 

I invite you now to look at the insert in your bulletin where we have printed the names of our members who have died this past year. We recognize these individuals, because to us and to God, they are all, each and every one of them, saints. 

 

This morning, the book of Hebrews is speaking to us as we make choices about the future. We can run the race that is set before us, because we are sustained by others who have already run. The choices we make are not made alone. We do not run the race of life alone. We are not detached individuals, disconnected, and isolated. We are accompanied by a great cloud of witnesses. This cloud is as dense and thick as your brothers and sisters sitting next to you right now in this very sanctuary. Holding on to this cloud of witnesses and responding to that initial call from God is often the difference between running and falling.

 

The coming days and months are going to be exciting for Broadway Christian Church. If faith is trusting without knowing all the certainties, traveling into an unknown future, but believing that future belongs to God, then with one another and with a response to God, a response to a call that cannot be ignored, we will head toward a certain destination. It is a destination that centers us in the life of Christ.

 

In a sermon he gave several months ago, the Rev. Tim Carson referred to Leonard Ira Sweet’s book, Aqua Church. Sweet notes:

 

That, says the book of Hebrews, is the only plan you need.

 

Put down what hinders you. Head toward Christ as your lighthouse in the storm.   Respond to God. Trust in those who have gone before, and do it all with perseverance.   

 

In another book, Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust, Yaffa Eliach tells a story about a death-camp prisoner, the Rabbi Israel Spire. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”

 

Through Christ we all say together… “Amen.”

 

 

Guiding Spirit, thank you for the witness of your people who have gone before us. Thank you for the companions who walk with us now. You have given us hearts to trust each other and to rejoice in the faith we share. As we enter into what is next, let us do so, together, with the bold trust we call faith. Amen.