JR. Forasteros - February 1, 2015
Why God Speaks
When confronted with the possibility that God is speaking to us, many of us are afraid. We’re convinced God’s call on our life is at odds with what we want for ourselves. Others are apathetic – we’re not convinced God is able to achieve the plans God has for us anyway, so what’s the point? We see in the person of Jesus that God is speaking to us to give us true life, to restore us to our true selves and to transform us into agents of healing in the world.
From Series: "Is This On?"
Ask most people if God speaks to them and they'll wonder if you're crazy. Most people think God only speaks to the very religious or the not-quite sane. But what if God is speaking to everyone? What if - because Jesus has come - God's voice is all around us, in our every day lives? How can we hear God's voice? What does God sound like? What is God saying? In this series, we'll learn how to hear the God who is speaking to all of us.
Sermon Manuscript Discussion Guide Guide to Spiritual Practices
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In the years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city of New Orleans, I went to the city to do relief work several times. It was during those trips I learned that what victims of disasters want most isn’t necessarily the relief work. Every trip went more-or-less the same:
A big group of us would show up and get to work. Maybe we were gutting a home so it could be cleansed of mold and rebuilt. Maybe we were cleaning up vacant lots to beautify a city block for the other residents. Mostly we were gutting homes – tearing out sheetrock and ripping up flooring. It was brutal, exhausting work, particularly in the New Orleans summers.
The residents would always be nearby, helping if they could or in their FEMA trailers making lemonade for us workers.
And inevitably, over the three or four days we were there, each of us would end up just sitting and talking with that resident. Despite the fact that we were on a schedule. Even though we were working hard to get their home finished.
What they needed most wasn’t a new home (though, obviously, that was important).
What they needed most wasn’t our strong backs and hard work. What they needed most, every time, was human interaction. They needed to tell their story, to be seen and heard, to know they’re not alone in their grief.
Again and again, what gave them hope was not the pounding hammers and loaded wheelbarrows, but a person sitting with them, being present with them.
What does it means to be WITH someone in times of grief? The final movement of Lament is hope, an anticipation that grief is not the final word.
