Standing at the Edge
January 11, 2009
I was going to write a nice reflection on call, spirit, being on the verge of responding, standing at the water’s edge, in keeping with the water theme this morning. It was going to be full of bad water puns; English is flooded with them and there was a rising tide just waiting to burst through the dam of my imagination … but, enough.
Instead, let me offer just a couple of thoughts arising from scripture, and then close with a song.
First point: remember that scripture is full of images of the water’s edge, and the decision suspended in that liminal space where the water meets the land. Think of Moses’ mother, holding a basket in her hands, standing at the edge, wondering if she is doing the right thing, and what will become of her child. Or, years later, that same Moses, standing at the edge of the ocean wondering, “what now?” Having led a stiff-necked people out of Egypt, now they stand at the edge, not knowing how they’re going to get across. Or Jesus, standing at the edge of the river, looking out at that crazy John the Baptist and not knowing where this will lead, and wondering, “what am I getting myself into?”
Have you ever felt that way? Standing at the edge, pondering a decision, not know how it is going to turn out?
Second point: our lives are scripture. They testify to our faithfulness and our struggles. Take a moment, and turn to the folks around you, and share that experience of standing at the edge.
We are standing at our own edge, as a congregation. Session spent yesterday together in a planning retreat, and we talked about the energy and excitement that we have felt in this place during the past year. We feel – and I know from many conversations – that many of you feel as well that we are standing at the edge.
The good news is, as the scriptures that we read and as so often the stories of our own lives testify, we are not at the precipice overlooking nothing all alone about to plunge. No, we stand at the edge of a future that God is calling us into, upheld by that same spirit that descended as a dove over the waters of Jesus’ baptism, promising that we are loved, that we are not alone, and that no matter what the future holds, God is with us.
As I thought about the images and ideas that press in upon us when we combine ordination with the Sunday on which we recall Jesus’ baptism – his own ordination, God’s claiming Jesus for the call that was before him – I realized that my good friend, Noah Budin, had already written this sermon and managed to put it into a song.
So, here’s Edge of the Ocean:
Are we standing at the edge of the ocean
Just to keep our feet upon the land?
Are we holding tight to our devotion
In our grip or is it slipping through our hands?
Have we been brought to the edge never to have crossed?
Had we entered the desert never having gotten lost,
Would we still fight for freedom no matter what the cost
El Emenah, Hineini, I am ready
I know not what may lie ahead upon the road
But I am ready
Have we scaled the slope of the mountain
Just to marvel at its size?
What if he did choose another way around,
Then would our lives have been realized?
What if he’d not taken those first steps from his land?
And what if he’d not followed, scared to heed the command?
Had they not been so willing, might they not have seen the ram?
Does our fate hang suspended in the air,
Like the hand that held the knife?
Is it enough just to say that we were there?
Or to live a righteous life?
We have crossed the sea and barren sands of the desert
And we’ve seen the mountain top.
And we’ve marched the streets of Selma, Alabama
Have we walked those many miles just to stop?
Can we drop our swords and lay our hands upon the earth
And feel the restless waters meet the river at its birth?
He could not find one righteous man, but should we stop the search?
c. Noah Budin, 2008.
The Hebrew – El emanah, hineini – translates roughly as “God of faithfulness, here I am.” Here I am, Lord, standing at the edge, listening for your calling, ready. Here I am; I am ready. Amen.
I was going to write a nice reflection on call, spirit, being on the verge of responding, standing at the water’s edge, in keeping with the water theme this morning. It was going to be full of bad water puns; English is flooded with them and there was a rising tide just waiting to burst through the dam of my imagination … but, enough.
Instead, let me offer just a couple of thoughts arising from scripture, and then close with a song.
First point: remember that scripture is full of images of the water’s edge, and the decision suspended in that liminal space where the water meets the land. Think of Moses’ mother, holding a basket in her hands, standing at the edge, wondering if she is doing the right thing, and what will become of her child. Or, years later, that same Moses, standing at the edge of the ocean wondering, “what now?” Having led a stiff-necked people out of Egypt, now they stand at the edge, not knowing how they’re going to get across. Or Jesus, standing at the edge of the river, looking out at that crazy John the Baptist and not knowing where this will lead, and wondering, “what am I getting myself into?”
Have you ever felt that way? Standing at the edge, pondering a decision, not know how it is going to turn out?
Second point: our lives are scripture. They testify to our faithfulness and our struggles. Take a moment, and turn to the folks around you, and share that experience of standing at the edge.
We are standing at our own edge, as a congregation. Session spent yesterday together in a planning retreat, and we talked about the energy and excitement that we have felt in this place during the past year. We feel – and I know from many conversations – that many of you feel as well that we are standing at the edge.
The good news is, as the scriptures that we read and as so often the stories of our own lives testify, we are not at the precipice overlooking nothing all alone about to plunge. No, we stand at the edge of a future that God is calling us into, upheld by that same spirit that descended as a dove over the waters of Jesus’ baptism, promising that we are loved, that we are not alone, and that no matter what the future holds, God is with us.
As I thought about the images and ideas that press in upon us when we combine ordination with the Sunday on which we recall Jesus’ baptism – his own ordination, God’s claiming Jesus for the call that was before him – I realized that my good friend, Noah Budin, had already written this sermon and managed to put it into a song.
So, here’s Edge of the Ocean:
Are we standing at the edge of the ocean
Just to keep our feet upon the land?
Are we holding tight to our devotion
In our grip or is it slipping through our hands?
Have we been brought to the edge never to have crossed?
Had we entered the desert never having gotten lost,
Would we still fight for freedom no matter what the cost
El Emenah, Hineini, I am ready
I know not what may lie ahead upon the road
But I am ready
Have we scaled the slope of the mountain
Just to marvel at its size?
What if he did choose another way around,
Then would our lives have been realized?
What if he’d not taken those first steps from his land?
And what if he’d not followed, scared to heed the command?
Had they not been so willing, might they not have seen the ram?
Does our fate hang suspended in the air,
Like the hand that held the knife?
Is it enough just to say that we were there?
Or to live a righteous life?
We have crossed the sea and barren sands of the desert
And we’ve seen the mountain top.
And we’ve marched the streets of Selma, Alabama
Have we walked those many miles just to stop?
Can we drop our swords and lay our hands upon the earth
And feel the restless waters meet the river at its birth?
He could not find one righteous man, but should we stop the search?
c. Noah Budin, 2008.
The Hebrew – El emanah, hineini – translates roughly as “God of faithfulness, here I am.” Here I am, Lord, standing at the edge, listening for your calling, ready. Here I am; I am ready. Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
8:39 AM
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