Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The theme for this Lent is "Our Lord and the Earth in Travail." The theme is much like that of the series created by our national church last year: "Creation Waits with Eager Longing."

Our church is calling us to listen carefully to the texts that speak of our Lord and his sufferings as well as of the earth as it too cries out for redemption. We reflect in this season on our place in creation and our place and role in God's plan, in and through Christ, for the reconciliation of all things.

Today, I would like us to focus on remembrance—remembering who we are and what we are called to be. Lent calls us to this kind of remembrance, beginning with the ashes of Ash Wednesday, reminding us of our mortality, our vulnerability, our sinfulness, and our dependence upon God. That is the first and most important remembrance for us. It reminds us that we stand as sinners before God, failing to resist the temptations that our Lord was able to withstand in today's gospel—the temptations to take care of ourselves and our own needs, to worship something other that the Lord of all, and to presume power for ourselves that was never intended.

But as we consider the travail of our Lord on the cross and of God's creation, we are also put in mind of our place in the long story of God's activity with our world.

In order to illustrate this, I'd like to read you a story—a children's story called "Old Turtle." As with so many such stories, there is also an excellent message for adults. I ask that you listen for its theological message for us—about who and where and what God is; and, in keeping with our theme of "Remembrance," the message about the role and place of humans on earth.

The story describes in a fresh way what it means for us to be an "image of God." Listen closely, for it can help us remember who we are and what we are called to be

Once, long long ago...yet somehow, not so very long...when all the animals and rocks and winds and waters and trees and birds and fish and all the beings of the world could speak and understand one another, there began...AN ARGUMENT.

"It began softly at first. Quiet as the first breeze that whispered, "He is a wind who is never still." Quiet as the stone that answered, "He is a great rock that never moves." Gentle as the mountain that rumbled, "God is a snowy peak, high above the clouds."

And the fish in the ocean that answered, "God is a swimmer, in the dark blue depths of the sea." "No," said the star, "God is a twinkling and a shining, far, far away." "No," replied the ant, "God is a sound and a smell and a feeling, who is very, very close." "God," said the antelope, "is a runner, swift and free, who loves to leap and race with the wind."

"She is a great tree," murmured the willow, "a part of the world, always growing and always giving." "You are wrong," argued the island, "God is separate and apart." "God is like the shining sun, far above all things," said the blue sky. "No, He is a river, who flows through the very heart of things," thundered the waterfall.

"She is a hunter," roared the lion. "God is gentle," chirped the robin. "He is powerful," growled the bear. And the argument grew louder and louder and louder until "STOP!"

A new voice spoke. It rumbled loudly, like thunder. And it whispered softly, like butterfly sneezes. The voice seemed to come from—why it seemed to come from—Old Turtle!

Now Old Turtle hardly ever said anything, and certainly never argued about things like God. But now Old Turtle began to speak.

"God is indeed deep," she said to the fish in the sea; "and much higher than high," she told the mountains. "He is swift and free as the wind, and still and solid as a great rock," she said to the breezes and stones. "She is the life of the world," Turtle said to the willow. "Always close by, yet beyond the farthest twinkling light," she told the ant and the star. "God is gentle and powerful. Above all things and within all things. God is all that we dream of, and all that we seek, " said Old Turtle, "all that we come from and all that we can find. God IS."

Old Turtle had never said so much before. All the beings of the world were surprised, and became very quiet. But Old Turtle had one more things to day. "There will soon be a new family of beings in the world," she said, "and they will be strange and wonderful. They will be reminders of all that God is. They will come in many colors and shapes, with different faces and different ways of speaking. Their thoughts will soar to the stars, but their feet will walk the earth. They will possess many powers. They will be strong, yet tender, a message of love from God to the earth, and a prayer from the earth back to God."

And the people came. But the people forgot. They forgot that they were a message of love, and a prayer from the earth. And they began to argue about who knew God, and who did not; and where God was, and was not; and whether God was, or was not. And often the people misused their powers, and hurt one another. Or killed one another. And they hurt the earth. Until finally even the forests began to die, and the rivers and the oceans and the plants and the animals and the earth itself, because the people could not remember who they were, or where God was.

Until one day there came a voice, like the growling of thunder; but as soft as butterfly sneezes, "Please STOP."

The voice seemed to come from the mountain who rumbled, "Sometimes I see God swimming, in the dark blue depths of the sea." And from the ocean who sighed, "He is often among the snow-capped peaks, reflecting the sun." From the stone who said, "I sometimes feel her breath, as she blows by." And from the breeze who whispered, "I feel his still presence as I dance among the rocks." And the star said, "God is very close;" and the island said, "His love touches everything."

And after a long, lonesome and scary time the people listened, and began to hear and to see God in one another and in the beauty of all the Earth.

And Old Turtle smiled. And so did God.

...And Old Turtle smiled. And so did God. Why? Because the people remembered who they were meant to be—"reminders of all that God is...a message of love from God to the earth, and a prayer from the earth back to God."

Made in God's image, we are called to care for the earth and one another, even as God cares for, keeps, and loves us.

"Dominion"—that word from the story of creation has been so abused over the centuries. "And let [human beings] have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth." (Gen. 1:26)

"Dominion" over the earth, when properly understood, is not permission to abuse. Scripture does not say "domination" but "dominion. It is a most sacred trust and humbling responsibility-a mutual custodianship. It is also a task that can be filled with joy and hope. When we take steps to help heal the earth, it gives you-and others around you-a sense of both joy and of hope. It can be contagious, in a good way!

Both ecologically and theologically, we are called to be mindful of how we live on this earth. The health and wholeness of the human community is inter-twined with the health and wholeness of the ecological community that sustains and supports us—a further witness of God's love for us and for all of creation.

When we humans, through our ignorance, apathy, arrogance, and greed, degrade creation and diminish its fruitfulness, we diminish and harm ourselves, we disregard divine mandates to tend the earth; and we mute creation's ability to join with us in praising God.

In Genesis 9, God's covenant is made with ALL creatures, with all life on earth, not only with Noah and his family:

Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, "Behold, I establish my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the cattle, and every beast of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark." (9:8-9)

And Psalms repeatedly urge and invite all of creation to praise the name of the Lord.

There is, you see, a "hymn of all creation," and it has been ongoing, day and night, since the beginning of time. Psalm 19 proclaims that "The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims God's handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." (19:1-4a)

This hymn of all creation is an awesome, beautiful, grace-filled song. it flows through the light of each new day and the stars at night, in the songs of birds and the croaking of frogs, in the joyous visual chorus of a field of wildflowers, in the chatter of children at play, in the soaring song of high mountains, in the whisper of wind in pines, in the soothing sounds of rivers and waves.

The harmonies, in this hymn of all creation, have broken many times throughout history, but perhaps they are the most broken now, in our time. The air of too may cities is polluted and more children suffer from asthma; frogs and other amphibians are in severe decline; waters become stagnant; ocean life suffers; climate change threatens all manner of damaging impacts to human-and natural-communities and ecosystems.

The hymn of all creation is muted, and its harmonies strained or broken.

But, in and through Christ, we are invited anew to enter into this song, with strong voices and with tender love. Yes, challenges abound—but God gives us the power, passion, and hope to meet them. How can we capture that vision, of God's will for creation and its redemption? How can we best sing this song of harmony, through our actions-our service in God's name?

It comes down to some very basic questions, initially, that each of us can ask of our Lord: "How can I serve you? How can I be part of the healing of your world?

If we dare to ask these questions in an earnest way in our prayers and in our heart, the Holy Spirit will help provide answers and point us in the directions we should go. Because enlightened by the Spirit, we can hear, and respond to, creation's cries, as it waits with eager longing, for the revealing of the children of God.

There is healing work that each of us, uniquely can do—within our homes, our places of work, our congregations, and our communities. We each have a role, as members of the body of Christ and as parts of creation's chorus.

Empowered by the Spirit, we can bear witness to God's hope and unconditional love for the whole world. And, as ambassadors of Christ's compassion, justice, and reconciliation, we can participate in the restoration of right relationships—for ALL creation.

So open your ears, voices, and hearts to that holy hymn of all creation; and sing it—boldly, joyfully, hopefully—wherever God leads you. Be that message of love from God to the earth, and a prayer of praise from the earth back to God.

And then you will indeed be faithfully proclaiming the good news to the whole creation! Amen!

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord unto eternal life. Amen.

 

 

[With thanks to Kim Winchell-ELCA 2009 Environmental Lenten Worship Resource]