Following track 1 in the RCL:
I think any sermon this week probably needed to wait for its writing until after Tuesday. It was bound to be a tumultuous week no matter what side of the political barbwire we happen to be standing on.
So I would like you, for a moment, to take a deep breath. Whether you're ecstatic that Barak Obama won, or unhappy, lay that down. Set aside these many years(!) of campaigning, and feel your shoulders relax, although I think we all know that it might take months for us to let all this go. Let's talk for a minute about where we are.
Here, we've elected a president whose rhetoric has always hovered around the word 'hope.' Always, his conversation has turned on a hope for a future from a difficult present, and he has held up his own biography as an example of how what is broken can be healed, and what was disadvantaged can grow to wisdom and thoughtfulness. It feels like a step into the future, a change of the guard. It looks and feels like a new generation taking power. Young children will be playing in the White House. An African-American family will be living in that White House (the irony is lost on no one). It feels like the brink of a new era. Again, set aside whether you think this is a good or bad decision, a good or a bad era on whose cusp we are standing, and let's recognize something: something new is being done.
Will this new era work out for good? Now that's a interesting question.
Will the economic crisis find healing, and what would 'healing' our economy mean anyway? Was it healthy to begin with? Will our hopes for some kind of fairer and affordable health care happen? What does a just system of taxation look like? Governments always struggle with these questions of justice, money, and war, and we have all been told to hope for this new future, which began sometime this week.
Now, I want us to set aside our ecstasy and sadness for a moment because this picture parallels surprisingly well with the story we hear today in Joshua. The story we hear today is the story of a people entering a new era. The old wilderness days are done, flat out done. They had their cost on the community--a whole generation died. The community, this people of Israel, have no money and no land. Their neighbors have grown scared of them, and that fear is for good reason--there are so many of them, and they have already begun to invade nearby countries to gain wealth and standing. But a new generation has arrived--Moses is gone, Joshua is here, and it's a new era.
It's as if they arrive at the edge of the Promise Land, and they see it. But suddenly, the realize: all of their mental energy had been directed toward arriving here. Arriving, however, is not everything. Now they have to live there. What will they do?
Will this new generation act in justice? Will they solve Israel's political and economic problems? Will they hold to their founding principles? And of course, what's most important in this story: will Israel be faithful to the God who called them out of Egypt, who spoke to their ancestor Abraham?
That's the setup for this story in Joshua, a story that sounds to my ears a great deal like our story.
So Joshua steps to the fore--he sees what others do not. And by the way, we have no reason to believe that all of Israel supported Joshua. Moses was fortunate enough to have the ground swallow anyone who rebelled against him, but the days of Moses are gone. Perhaps we should remember that not everyone liked Joshua, not everyone agreed with him. But leader he was, and he saw the confusion in their faces--how are they going to live in this new land?
He rehearses the history with them, and he demands: will they follow God? Will they be faithful? They all say: "Yeah! God did do all that, we'll follow!" Joshua, who is quickly becoming as hard a leader as Moses, replies: "You're not good enough. You can't do it. It will be very hard--a time of sacrifice (giving up the old gods), and a time of not knowing exactly what's going to happen to you (faith)." The people stand up straighter, brush the dust off their shirts, and reply: "Yes we can!" Joshua replies: then you are witnesses of your own oath. Today begins a new day, a new covenant for a new generation.
This story, a delightful one even in normal times, has much to offer us this week. In particular, the very premise of the story suggests something that we're missing in our national scene: a new era means a new covenant, a promise from all of us about a new way to live. Every generation must makes its covenant, and particularly for us, we know that every generation must make anew the covenant with God. The actions of the past position the faith of the present--they don't determine the faith of the present. In a new time, Joshua calls Israel to new promise and to renew the promise of faithfulness and sacrifice to God.
So as we enter our new time, whether we act with gladly anticipation or fearful resignation, it is time for a new generation to make a new covenant. And my own concern here is for our covenant with God, not with the government. It's time we take advantage of what our nation is presenting us recognize where we are: somewhere new.
Countless contradictory books litter the shelves about the changing faiths of America: evangelical, emerging church, virtual, Southern hemisphere-centric, gay. It's time to begin to articulate our covenant, or perhaps covenants--we seem increasingly doubtful about the monolithic nature of things. Joshua's story reminds us that as we enter a new time, it's time to renew our religious commitment, our relationship to God. A new era doesn't mean free and easy sailing; it doesn't mean the end of the past. But it is time to notice that something has changed--we're standing somewhere different. It does mean that it's time to stand at the edge of the Promised Land and say: what, you mean we're here? What do we do now? It's time to look into our individual faith communities and ask ourselves: who are we now? What does our covenant with God look like?
I also think Joshua's story has some strong criteria to offer us as we consider what that relationship to God will look like. He asks Israel to consider sacrifice and faithfulness to be foundations of that covenant--sacrifice of the old idols, and faithful love of God.
What idols need to die? What has been our idol in the stock market? How attached are we to being the superpower of Christianity? Is every single medical treatment worth it if its cost denies healthcare to others? And even more: what idols have we held as Christians, and for me, as an Episcopalian?
And will we be faithful? Does faithfulness look like social justice? Does it look like daily prayer? Will faithfulness happen online, and does that even matter? How will our communities escape the slow death of becoming social organizations and return to faithfulness?
Today, we begin to enter a new era. Today, we stand at the edge of the Promised Land. And as we do, we are being called to ask: how are we going to live here?
