Being in the Clouds

I was fresh out of high school with big dreams of one day becoming a pastor. And on one early fall weekend, I was asked to preach while the pastor was away. Not at the Lutheran church, as one might imagine though—but instead at the Salvation Army church. I had gotten to know some of the people that went there and I had attended several worship services in my personal quest to discover more about churches beyond the Lutherans.

But to give the sermon... I was both filled with excitement and a little bit of dread. I remember the fleeting thought went through my mind that if I didn’t do well in that first sermon that it meant my aspirations of becoming a pastor were down the tube. I put so much pressure on myself… and I was anxious about being there without family support. My parents couldn’t attend—after all my mom was an organist and my dad was the pastor at the Lutheran church that I called home. But a friend offered to come with me and sit in the pew… to listen to my sermon… to offer support. And I was so thankful for her presence. That friend, was Ashley.

I still remember clearly the way that I began the sermon—and I’m going to share it today as well because I believe it is quite fitting for this Sunday’s text. I began with a story.

The story goes that some years ago there was a very traditional tribe of Chippewa Indians—which I actually share just an bit of ancestry with. For years, the tribe relied on its wise chieftain to decide how much wood needed to be gathered for each upcoming winter. And, for the most part, the wise old chieftain was quite skilled in reading the signs of the world around him and would make fairly accurate forecasts of what was to come.

One year, his son, who would eventually become chieftain himself, insisted with his father that while using the ways of their people to guess the weather was no longer needed. There was science now—meteorologists who used high tech equipment and could make forecasts far more accurate based on atmospherically gathered data. And the son told his father it was time for the tribe to make use of that knowledge and prepare with more accurate knowledge than ever before.

Eventually, the chieftain relented, and the son called the local weather station and asked what to expect from the upcoming winter.

“It looks like it should be a fairly mild winter this year, came the reply.”

The chieftain’s son smiled to himself, thinking about all the work that he had just saved the village. He would be a hero. He spread the news and the tribe began gathering the wood they thought would be needed.

As they nearly finished gathering, the son called the station again just to confirm that the data still supported the mild winter.

“Actually, the weather looks like it will be colder than we originally expected.” Came the reply.

So the son went back, again feeling proud of himself—again he would be a hero for helping make sure the tribe had enough wood. He shared the news again and the tribesmen went out into the woods again and continued harvesting wood.

After a couple more weeks of harvesting, the son called the weather station again to see if there were any more updates.

“Oh, it looks like this winter will be much colder than all data had given us so far, perhaps one of the coldest in the last decade.”

Again, the son returned to the tribe with the news. And this time, the tribe worked with a fervor it had not known before. Time was running short and they needed to collect everything they could. Tree after tree was cut down, chopped up, and stacked. The piles of split logs grew high as the tribe braced itself for a frigid winter.

Again, the son called the weather station to see if they knew just how bad this winter was going to be. And the answer came back.

“We now believe that this will likely be the worst winter ever recorded.”

“My goodness,” the son replied, “how can you tell that it is going to be so bad?”

“Well,” came the reply, “we’re not really sure but the Chippewa tribe down the road from us has been collecting wood like you wouldn’t believe!”

What is it that makes us feel either secure or insecure in the various situations that we find ourselves in life? This morning, perhaps, there were some concerns about the weather. For some of us, perhaps, there were preparations made in the last day or two make sure that our houses were stocked with enough food in case we get iced in. Or perhaps you brought in some extra firewood or else made certain that you had kept up on your monthly electric and gas bills.

Thankfully we had time to make preparations—to think through the scenarios of what might occur. We had weather forecasts that, if we took the possible threats seriously, we were able to go into action and make sure that we would indeed be secure for what might be coming.

But what about those times when we don’t have time to prepare? What about when we don’t get the warnings of some looming threat until its already upon us? How prepared would we be on any given day to suddenly be iced into our houses for 3-4 days… or perhaps even 1-2 weeks? How secure would we feel then?

Or, perhaps, we find ourselves fearful for the security of our healthy?

Perhaps there is some pain that has been nagging you for the past few weeks and you’ve refused to go to the doctor in part because you don’t want to pay for the visit but also because you’re afraid of what it might be. Could that pain mean something worse? Perhaps it’s safer to just not know.

Perhaps we’ve gone to the doctor… perhaps now we’re waiting on test results that we can’t change… hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

Perhaps our body just isn’t what it used to be. When we know what the average life expectancy is and we have already passed that by years ago… what does that mean for the future? We don’t live forever. Dealing with mortality can be terrifying.

Perhaps it’s not our own health that we are afraid for… perhaps it’s the health of a close friend or family member that gives us reason to be afraid.

Health insecurity can be like being inside a cloud—barely able to see the hand in front of our faces.

Or, perhaps, we find ourselves fearful for the security of our world?

Perhaps we live with a deep seeded concern for the environment as pollution devastates lakes, rivers, and oceans. We wonder what pollution will mean for us 10 years… or for those who are around in 50 years or a hundred.

Perhaps we live with a fear of “other people” whether its concerns over terrorists, gangs, active shooters, or even government leaders of nuclear-capable nations that we don’t trust.

Perhaps we live with a fear of being judged by the world. That every time we do or do not step outside of our doors—we wonder what other people are thinking about us.

Feeling insecure about our world can be like being inside a cloud—barely able to see the hand in front of our faces.

Or, perhaps, what if the thing that threatens our sense of security is not merely the weather?

What if we find ourselves fearful for the security of our finances?

Perhaps the stock market crashes on retirement savings… or we suddenly have a major repair come up on the car that means a decision has to be made between fixing the car and paying the electric bill.

Perhaps we fear that our jobs are in jeopardy. Maybe we just don’t feel up to the tasks that we are being told to do… or we’re afraid our supervisor is out to get us… or perhaps we’re afraid that the company we work for will come to us one day and say that our position is no longer needed… that they will thank us and send us on our way.

Financial insecurity can be like being inside a cloud—barely able to see the hand in front of our faces.

Feeling insecure in any form is not a way of life that we enjoy. We want to feel stable about our situations in life. We want to know that our friends and loved ones will always be fine. We want to know that our health will be supreme, allowing us to do all the things that we want to do. We want to feel financially secure, not having to stress about the next electric bill or whether we have to call in sick from work. We want to know that we are safe in this present moment and that we are safe for the foreseeable future.

In our Gospel lesson today, Peter, James, and John want desperately for that same sense of security. They are in the midst of a true mountain top experience with Jesus as well as Moses and Elijah. They are in the midst of a holy moment… and they want to stay there. They want to find rest on that mountain top… in the presence of their Savior… in the presence of the heroes of their faith… in the presence of God.

And just as Peter declares his desire to stay… they find themselves in a cloud—barely able to see the hands in front of their faces. And they were afraid.

Just as we can relate to disciples’ desire to stay in that safe place… we can relate to the fear that they experienced as their futures became clouded. And then they hear that voice through the cloud echoing the words, “This is my Son, my Chosen… listen to him”

Then the cloud, we can assume, vanishes… the disciples find Jesus by himself now. They don’t tell anyone about what they had just seen… and, this next part is important, they go back down the mountain.

The disciples leave that place where everything felt secure and they exchange it for the insecurities of the world once again. They’re not given a promise that everything will end well for them… in fact out of all 12 disciples only one of them, John, lives to an old age—all of the others are killed as martyrs of the faith.

But they go back down the mountain, into the midst of those insecurities of the world… no promises that they won’t face adversity or challenges. No promises of a great retirement plan with benefits. No promises that the world won’t threaten them. No promises that their health will hold up. The only thing they do have is the person of Christ, standing with them in the clouds… and walking with them into the fray.

Today’s Gospel Lesson today is a reminder that God walks with us. Not that God promises that everything will turn out the way we want it to. But that God walks with us, encouraging us… caring for us... and loving us through all of it.

There’s an old story about the little boy who was throwing a ball high up into the air and then catching it. When asked what he was doing, he replied that he was playing catching with God. He would throw it up in the air to God… and God would throw it back. Oh that we would always feel God so active in our lives.

I encourage you this day and in these coming days that you look for God’s activity in your own life. As you walk in the clouded places of life—may you experience Christ’s presence. Recognize God in the hugs and hellos from family, friends, and strangers. See God walking with you in the lives of those who share anxieties with you. Hear and know God’s promise to be with you always.