Who and Whose We Are

January 10, 2015

Isaiah 43:1-7

¹But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob,

he who formed you, O Israel:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name, you are mine.

²When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.

³For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

I give Egypt as your ransom,

Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you.

⁴Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you,

I give people in return for you,

nations in exchange for your life.

⁵Do not fear, for I am with you;

I will bring your offspring from the east,

and from the west I will gather you;

⁶I will say to the north, "Give them up,"

and to the south, "Do not withhold;

bring my sons from far away

and my daughters from the end of the earth —

⁷everyone who is called by my name,

whom I created for my glory,

whom I formed and made."

Sermon:  “Who and Whose We Are”

As many of you know, I celebrated my birthday last week.  I wanted two things to be a part of that celebration: first (and most importantly): a delicious dinner.  Second, was something a bit more atypical.  I wanted to watch the movie Blood Diamond.  You might not know that I nearly always eschew romantic comedies in favor of action-oriented movies.  And I am especially drawn to stories of people overcoming conflict, as peacemaking is somehow part of my identity. 

That being said, Blood Diamond is one of my favorite movies.  That’s not to say it’s easy to watch – it isn’t.  It is terribly violent.  But this violence is not sensationalized for the benefit of greater ticket sales.  It is telling the story of a bitter civil war in Sierra Leone in the late 90’s, and the ways diamonds were used to buy weapons for that war.  The story centers around two characters: the first is a man named Solomon Vandy, played by Djimon Hounsou, whose son was stolen and forced to become a child soldier for the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), and who himself was forced to work in the diamond mines.  The second is a diamond smuggler named Danny Archer, played by Leonardo DiCaprio. 

We’re going to leave Leo on the Titanic for now, and focus instead on the story of Solomon and his son, Dia.  Dia’s tale is one hundreds of thousands of boys still live in war-torn areas of Africa, especially in Uganda, the Central African Republic, the Congo and South Sudan.  Dia is 12 years old, a good student and a kind child.  But he is stolen away, abused, drugged and brainwashed until he becomes a violent killer.  Solomon, his father, is stolen away as well, and forced to work a diamond mine, where he finds and hides a massive pink diamond.  While the smuggler Archer is desperate to find that diamond, Solomon is more desperate to find his son.  Miraculously he does, and then they find the diamond.  The scene does not go as expected.  I didn’t make you any popcorn, but watch what happened.

Amazing, isn’t it?  There is only one way that Dia can be saved and redeemed from the horrors he experienced and inflicted.  He has to be told who he really is.  Solomon’s words sound so much like our reading from Isaiah to me:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. 

I have called you by name, you are mine.

Dia, What are you doing? Dia! Look at me, look at me. are Dia Vendy, of the proud Mende tribe. You are a good boy who loves soccer and school. Your mother loves you so much. She waits by the fire making plantains, and red palm oil stew with your sister N'Yanda and the new baby. The cows wait for you. And Babu, the wild dog who minds no one but you.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.

I know they made you do bad things, but you are not a bad boy.

For I am the Lord your God.

You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.

I am your father who loves you.

I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life.

Do not fear, for I am with you;

…bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth.

And you will come home with me and be my son again.

Earlier in the movie, the smuggler Archer asks a heart-breaking question: “Sometimes I wonder: Will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other?”  His answer is even more heart-breaking, “Then I look around and I realize... God left this place a long time ago.”

I think the answer to Archer’s question is yes.  The God who ransomed exiles, described by Kathleen O’Connor as, “a people on the precipice of extinction under Babylonian dominance, a people whose future is in grave doubt and whose God seems to have abandoned them…,” this God is always about the business of rescuing and forgiving.  There are times we human beings feel that God has abandoned us.  If Jesus cried out on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” we’re allowed to pray that bitter prayer from time to time.

We may not have experienced what it is to be taken from our families and forced to fight a battle that is not ours, but we’ve all been forced to live a life that’s not ours at times.  Perhaps that was trying to live up to impossible standards of perfection put on us by our families.  Perhaps that was trying to pretend we have it all together when we felt we were barely hanging on.  Perhaps that was trying to conform to the expectations of a job or relationship, no matter how unreasonable those expectations were.  Maybe you’re in that sort of place now.  Maybe your child or grandchild or friend is in that place.  It’s a desperately exhausting and lonely place to be. 

But even in those places – especially in those places – God does not abandon us.

God has not left us to our own devices, no matter what horrible things we’ve done to one another.  God – like the character of Solomon in Blood Diamond – will never stop searching for us (whether we want to be found or not). 

And when God finds us – as God always will – we will be told who we really are.   

We are not created by our careers or families or bank accounts or opinions.

We are created by God.

We are not alone in the overwhelming waters of life, and we are not alone when we feel we’re walking through the fires of conflict, illness, depression or sorrow.

God is with us, not because we deserve it, but because that’s simply who God is.

We are not forgotten, abandoned or ignored.

We are precious in God’s sight, and God loves us.

Fear and hatred are powerful motivators in changing a life – they are what turn children into soldiers.  Many churches use fear and hatred to get people to change.

But fear and hatred will never be as good at changing a life as love is.  If we really know how beloved by God we are – and not just “us” but also whomever we consider to be “them” – the only bounds to the good we can do in the world are our own imaginations.  Anything is possible – even peace in Sierra Leone; even peace in our embattled souls. 

Do you really believe God loves you?  I urge you to pause before you say yes.  Because believing that to be true demands much of us – it means we cannot hate and hurt without repentance.  It means we believe that, with that love, comes the potential within us for great good, and so we do not waste one moment of this precious life with pettiness and selfishness, with revenge and retaliation. 

Do you really believe God loves you?  If so, what will you do with that kind of love?  Amen.