Prepare. Plant. Harvest: Cultivating a Culture of Generosity
Week One: Stewardship of Creation
Luther Memorial Lutheran Church Seattle, WA
The Rev. Julie Hutson
Genesis 1: 26-31 + Psalm 8 + Romans 8: 19-25 + Mark 1: 9-13
Beloved, grace and peace are yours from the One who is the author of all creation. Amen.
This past Friday was a beautiful day. It was one of those gifts of a day that comes to us in early autumn, in this corner of God’s creation, as a surprise. It’s a day when students are distracted because they want to play outside. Let’s face it, it’s a day when we’re ALL distracted because we want to play outside!
On Friday morning as I was eating my breakfast, I was watching the birds and squirrels playing in the bright morning sunlight. There were so many of them…dashing about and chasing up trees. I mean….they were FROLICKING! And I was suddenly reminded of the scene in Cinderella where the birds and squirrels are all helping her with the household chores. For just a moment, I thought…hey….get in here and help me unload the dishwasher!
Then God said “Let us make humankind in our image, to be like us. Let them be stewards of the fish in the sea, the birds of the air, the cattle, the wild animals, and everything that crawls on the ground.” Humankind was created as God’s reflection: in the divine image God created them; female and male, God made them. God blessed them and said “Bear fruit, increase your numbers, and fill the earth – and be responsible for it! Watch over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things on the earth!”
Today we begin four Sundays of our Stewardship emphasis. Prepare. Plant. Harvest: Sowing Seeds of Generosity. And today’s focus is on becoming good stewards of Creation.
I have to say, that on stunning days like Friday, it’s easier to live into this than it is on gloomy, grey, drizzly days like…well, probably at least a significant portion of the next several months.
There are so many very practical ways that we care for and steward creation. I am so grateful for the work of our own Green Team, who shepherded us through to the Greening Congregation designation and who help remind us of the many ways we are called to care for Creation. And for the most part, we do the things we can: We recycle and compost. We only use green products that can be recycled or composted. Our disposable utensils are made from composted materials. We try to re-use things when we can. We don’t leave lights blazing unnecessarily and we watch the footprint we will leave on the earth.
We want to be good stewards of Creation. We want to care for what God called not just good, but very good.
And yet, according to Paul in Romans 8, creation groans. And Paul goes on to note that it is not just Creation that groans. We too groan.
In order to sit with this passage, in order to really live into what Paul was writing to the church at Rome about, we have to take a closer look at our relationship to creation. We are not separate from creation. We are not apart from it. We exist together. We need each other. We cannot live without earth and air and water and plants. I mean, that’s basic seventh grade science. And in turn, earth and air and water and plants cannot live without us.
But together we groan. And together we wait. And we groan and wait in one great act of giving birth.
Nothing shows us how to give birth quite like Creation. The entirety of Creation enacts the drama of the cycle of life every year. In spring the trees and the flowers and the shrubs regenerate; crops are planted…bulbs spring forth. The ice and snow melts into the streams and flows into the rivers. Summer brings such fullness…as though it is the prime of life for Creation. Everything is at its peak. And then it is autumn and Creation teaches us how to die. Trees teach us, literally, how to let go. The fields are harvested and the flowers no longer bloom. Finally it is winter, when the creation rests.
There is nothing easy about the act of giving birth. Whether you are giving birth to a child or a new idea or a new time of life or a new task or a new job. Birth giving happens in its own time and once it is set in motion, there is very little that can be done to stop it.
It’s interesting to note that the baptism of Jesus is considered by most as the birth of his public ministry. Until that time, he had been known as the son of Mary and Joseph; a carpenter turned teacher. And as the writer of the Gospel of Mark puts it: “It was then that Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized in the Jordan River by John.” Birth almost always involves water. Creation does not happen without it. Water for growing and thriving and washing and watering and drinking and quenching. Water that welcomes and calls us. And in the case of Jesus’ baptism, he comes out from the Jordan River, receives the favor of God, and is immediately driven out into the wilderness.
Some days, we join Creation in celebration of birth giving. We give thanks for the new things that come…for new life as it is known in those we love and who love us. For communities that support and sustain. For long relationships and for new friends. For faithful witness to the love of God at work in the world. For music that gives birth to the singing of our souls. These are the days when joining Creation in joyous birthgiving bring what the Psalmist called words of power and praise to our lips.
And on other days, we are driven, still wet from the waters of our calls as children of God, out into the wilderness.
Wilderness time does not feel like a time of birth giving. Time in the wilderness, whether it is literal or metaphorical, feels dry and arid. It feels as though we are not only alone, but abandoned. Thriving in the wilderness seems impossible. Food and water and companionship evade us. We wander without aim or destination.
And yet, the wilderness is where God most often revealed God’s self and called God’s people to listen, hear, and follow.
I had hoped to stand here today and remind us of the gift of Creation and of the privilege of stewarding it. I had hoped to sing the soaring hymns to the earth and sky and water and animals and remember that we depend on one another, just as God intended.
And instead, while all of those things are true, I feel as though I stand here with you in the wilderness. Preachers everywhere, if we are doing our jobs, are exhausted by the relentless barrage of injustices and issues accosting us every day. Because when those issues are justice related at heart, we ignore them at our peril. And so we have talked about equity, about racism, about gun violence, about the stripping away of the rights of people who have barely had enough time to enjoy them. And today we are in the wilderness of sexual assault. And creation groans. And we groan. And we wander in the wilderness.
Beloveds, if these stories of assault are in your story, as they are in mine, I want you to know that the Church hears you, the Church believes you, and the church, if it is complicit in your pain, apologizes to you. And I want you to know that I am here for you and Vicar Laura is here for you and we will listen and we will believe you. And I want you to know that you are beloved by God and that even if it feels like you are wandering in the wilderness, I want you to remember this. When Jesus was in the wilderness, and when he was with wild beasts, angels looked after him. There are angels today…in so many forms….bringing hope in the world.
We hope for what we know is coming….the fulfillment of the birth of Creation and the birth of freedom for our very selves. Freedom from oppression and injustice and abuse. Stewarding Creation means stewarding all that God has made.
Beloveds, together with creation we groan, we wander in the wilderness, and we hope. Do not lose hope. Believe that angels accompany us.
Thanks be to God and let the Church say…Amen.