Sermon: “Making the Waters Stand Still”

Text: Joshua 3:7-17

31^st Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

November 2, 2008

Scripture introduction.  Our second reading is from the Old Testament book of Joshua.  As the book of Joshua opens, the Israelites have finished their forty-year trek through the wilderness.  Moses has just died; and now faithful Joshua leads the Israelites, who are poised on the plains of Moab, at Shittim, just to the east of the Jordan River, ready to cross the river and enter and take possession of the land of Canaan.  Our text this morning describes that crossing.  As God had instructed, Joshua commanded the priests who carried the Ark of the Covenant to take the first step into the river, which was at flood tide during the spring.  As soon as the feet of the priests touched the Jordan River, its waters stopped flowing downstream; and the priests continued to the middle of the now-dry riverbed, where they remained until all the Israelites had crossed.

In describing the way the waters of the Jordan were cut off, our text says that the waters “stood in a single heap.”  The word “heap” translates a Hebrew word that appears only rarely in the Bible.  One of the few other places we find it is in the so-called “Song of Moses,”[1] in which Moses sings of how God parted the waters of the Red Sea and allowed the Israelites to cross.  By using this same unusual word to describe how the waters of the Jordan were held back at Joshua’s crossing, the text of Joshua emphasizes the parallels between Moses and Joshua.  Just as God had been powerfully with Moses, so now God also would be with Moses’ successor Joshua.  The mantle of leadership had passed from one generation to another.

Sermon.  Officially, yesterday was All Saints Day.  In those Christian traditions that recognize particular persons as saints, it’s a day to celebrate all the saints, including those who don’t have their own special feast day.  In those same traditions there is also a day for the rest of the church, persons who have been faithful believers but who have not been designated as saints.  These are the persons whose story might have been told by Studs Terkel, the radio and print journalist who wrote about the ordinary working folk of our country, and who died just this week at the age of 96.  That other day in the church calendar is called “All Souls Day,” and it is generally celebrated on November 2.[2]

During the Protestant Reformation of the 16^th century, some protesting churches, including Presbyterians, did away with the notion of special feast days for human beings, even persons of saintly reputation.[3]  In our Reformed tradition, in accordance with the usage of the New Testament,[4] we consider that all believers are saints of God.  And we celebrate all the saints either on November 1 or on the first Sunday in November, as we are doing this morning.  Since the first Sunday in November also happens to be the normal date for All Souls Day, maybe the calendar in some small way has united all the great traditions—Protestant and Catholic—as together we honor and remember all the believers who have gone on before, who have been our teachers and our examples, those who have inspired us and encouraged us in our own walks of faith.  Because today we remember all the saints of God—all persons of faith—our Communion liturgy will be invested with additional richness and memory.  As always, and particularly today, we are united spiritually in the Lord’s Supper with all of the saints.

How appropriate, then, that our text this morning concerns the passing of leadership from one generation to the next.  As we read through the books of Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, we learn of the special relationship between God and Moses.  As we know from earlier lectionary passages, Moses was the only person who was allowed to see the glory of God, although even then it was from the backside.  The people often said of Moses that he was the only person to whom God spoke “face to face.”  Moses was the one who had seen the bush that burned but was not consumed.  Moses was the one chosen to speak truth to Pharaoh’s power.  Moses raised his staff, and the waters of the Red Sea parted.  Moses went up the mountain and there—twice—received the tablets of stone on which the Ten Commandments were written.  It was Moses who for forty years had led the Israelites through the perilous wilderness and through whom, as the intermediary, God had promised manna and quail and water for survival.  When there were big quarrels, Moses settled them.  When big problems arose, Moses solved them.  Now, just as the Israelites at long last were poised to go into the Promised Land, Moses was not around.  Moses had died.

But the story of God’s people was not over.  Moses was succeeded by Joshua, who forty years before, as a young man, had demonstrated his faithfulness and courage by urging the Israelites to take possession of the Promised Land.  That generation had been afraid to act upon his advice, but now a new generation had come of age.  The residents of Canaan must have been equally as fearsome then as they had been forty years before, but this time the Israelites seemed ready.  And what about Joshua?  Would God be with Joshua as God had been with Moses?  As I read our passage for this morning, this is the question that I hear being asked and authoritatively answered.  Verse 7 begins with God telling Joshua, “This day I will begin to exalt you in the sight of all Israel, so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses.”  God chose to do this by repeating in a way the mighty act that God had done with Moses when God parted the Red Sea.  As I mentioned earlier, even the vocabulary seems to link the two stories, as in both instances the waters are held back “in a heap.”  Clearly, the action of God and the manner in which this story is recorded work together to quiet any misgivings the people or the reader may have: God is still with the people and God’s plan is still in motion.

When we think about the succession from one generation to another, it’s easy to focus on the “glass half-empty” part of that fact.  We think of the saints who have helped us along our way, and we wonder how we ever will be able to flourish without their continuing leadership.  But the other side of the equation is that new generations are coming of age.  We may not be able to see it yet, but we can be sure these persons have all the spiritual gifts and skills necessary for our church to grow and develop.   As we read in Ephesians, “The gifts [God] gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ . . . .”[5]  As long as God wants there to be a church at 125 North 7^th Street, we will have all the gifts, all the resources, and all the leaders we need to do the work of ministry.  So if some generations have gone on to their reward and others are yet to come of age, then what of us who are here now?  Well, I think we may assume that this is our time.  If God’s work is to be done in this place, we are the ones God is calling to do it. 

*  *  *  *  *

Now, think back to the Israelites at the edge of the Jordan.  There are the priests out in front with the Ark.  The river is still flowing.  In fact since it is springtime, the river has risen above its normal banks.  Of course the Jordan is not a mighty river like the Mississippi or the Ohio.  I have never seen it, but I suspect it may not be as large even as the Wabash.  On the other hand, we know from our recent experience with flooding here in Terre Haute that moving water even six inches deep can carry people away.  If I had been one of Joshua’s priests, I certainly would have paused before I stepped into the river.  But the people could not cross the river, could not enter into the Promised Land and begin God’s chosen mission for them, unless they took the first step.  God’s ministry always requires us to take the first step.  Now don’t misunderstand me.  God did not leave everything up to human action.  Indeed, God had been working to prepare this moment for the Israelites.  It was God who had rescued the people from Egyptian slavery and had protected them in their wilderness wanderings.  And even on the great day in question, the day of the Jordan crossing, God already had dammed up the water “in a heap” upstream at Adam, which was “far off”—about 18 miles.  Let’s do a little math (Amanda, you can check me on this.)  If water flows anywhere from three to six miles an hour, this means that the Jordan had stopped flowing at Adam three to six hours before the priests stepped into the water.  So God had been working long before the priests made their decision.  But they still had to take the first step.

The path of this sermon has been a little like a meandering river, so let me summarize.  Today we celebrate All Saints Day, which for us Presbyterians is more like All Souls Day, a day to remember and commune with the saints of the past.  Now we find that we are the saintly successors to those great church men and women who have gone before us.  Now is our time as saints to step forward.  And we know that God will be with us, just as God was with Joshua when he succeeded Moses.  For every ministry to which God calls us, God also equips us with all the people, tools, and skills we need to be successful.  Indeed, long before we take our first step, God already has been at work preparing the way.  But we have to take the first step if we want to cross the river, to take possession of the ministries God intends for us, and fully to inhabit our little part of God’s Kingdom.

At the session meeting this month, the session will receive officially the feasibility report for our planned capital campaign.  Immediately, session members and task forces will begin adjusting our project budget as necessary to match the amount that we are told we may reasonably expect to raise.  Shortly after that—sometime in December, I would hope—the resulting plan for fund-raising and for the renovation will be presented to the congregation in a special, called meeting.  At that meeting, your feet will be at the edge of the Jordan.  The meeting will be in this space, which itself is a testimony to all the saints who have gone before us here in Terre Haute.  They will be watching to see whether we are willing to take that first step.  We may be confident that if we step into the water, it will be our joy to see how God already has cleared the way.