“Homecoming 523 B.C.E.”

10-22-23

“Homecoming 523 B.C.E.”

Ezra 3:10-13

Broadway Christian Church

David A. Shirey

Several years ago, a mother in our church told me of her 6-year-old son’s baseball triumph.  He was in his first year of organized baseball.  At that age, the ball is placed on a peg, then the batter swings the bat, hits the ball, and runs.  She told me her son had the routine down pat.  He’d hit the ball, it would roll gently back to the pitcher’s mound, and the pitcher would throw the ball to the first baseman well before her son, Davis, arrived.  The umpire would signal “Out” as Davis crossed the bag whereupon he’d make a hard right turn and trot to the dugout until it was time to do the same thing all over again. 

One day, however, Davis hit a ball that shot past the pitcher’s mound, past second base, and into the outfield. Davis ran to first base, turned, and trotted toward the dugout. 

Davis’ coach and teammates met him at the dugout steps, flailing their arms, yelling, “No!  No!  Go!  Go!  Run!” and pointed back toward the field. But when Davis got back to first base, he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what to do next. He saw the other team’s center fielder and right fielder chasing a butterfly and thought several people in the stands were pointing that way, so he ran out to join them. No, not there. The leftfielder was picking dandelions. There? No, that elicited more frantic screaming and pointing which eventually led Davis to second base where he received a thunderous applause. Whereupon Davis stood on second base, raised his hands high in the air, and said, “I’ve never been this far before!”

Well Broadway, Happy Homecoming. You’ve never been this far before. I’m not speaking about turning 65, chartered as you were in 1958. I’m speaking of the fact that you and the estimated 300,000 other congregations in the United States are in uncharted territory and have been since Sunday, March 15, 2020, when COVID closed churches and closed life as we knew it. We said, “It won’t be long. We’ll be back in a few weeks.” But weeks became months became a year and we came back, but to masking in the narthex and social distancing in the sanctuary. And not everyone came back. And the religious landscape is different now. We’ve never been this far before.  

There’s a word for this season in which we find ourselves on this Homecoming Sunday 2023. The word is liminal, from the Latin word limen meaning threshold. We’re not where we were – the familiar. We’re not where we’re going – wherever that is. We’re in between. We’re living in liminal time.

Here’s the thing about liminal time. #1 Nobody likes it.  #2 Everybody has an opinion on where to go from here.  

Nobody likes liminal time. Who likes to be disoriented? Neither here nor there. Uncertain. Unsettled. Unsatisfactory! You ask, “Are we almost there yet?” and the driver says, “No, and I don’t even know where there is yet.” Which leads to the anxiety, impatience, and discontent we’ve all felt these past many months living in Liminal Land. Nobody likes liminal.   

To complicate matters: everybody has an opinion on where to go from here.  Dozens of people in the stands are yelling and pointing. Where?  Toward the butterfly catchers? Toward the dandelion picker? A lot of ink is being spilled these days offering directions to churches who find themselves in liminal space, looking for where to go. Everybody’s shouting, “That way!” and pointing every which way.

So, what do we do? Well, since I’ve never been this far before, I can’t say for sure. So, I turned to the Bible for help. I asked myself, Which book of the Bible would might give us some direction on what to do in liminal time; tell us where to go from here?  I nominate the book of Ezra. Maybe we can learn from our forebears in faith, the people of Israel who, 2,500 years ago, had their own Homecoming in 523 BCE. Having been exiled from their church, the Temple, for 50 years due not to COVID but to being conquered by the Babylonians and hauled off to Babylon, they were at long last home again in Jerusalem. And as you might imagine, it wasn’t the same. The Temple, their place of worship, had been destroyed. The old familiar landmarks were no more. They found themselves smack dab in the middle of what was and what was yet to be. 

What did they do at their Homecoming? The first thing they did was worship God together. Imagine that. They gathered together in one place, the old and the young, and worshipped God. Mind you, they didn’t have a building and they wouldn’t for twenty years, so they laid a foundation and built a free-standing, outdoor altar and worshipped – had a Daybreak Service, if you will. Ezra describes it, says, “When the builders laid the foundation of the temple of the Lord, the priests in their vestments were stationed to praise the Lord with trumpets (I bet there were 54 handbells and 37 hand chimes, too) and the Levites, the sons of Asaph, with cymbals (Stuart on the cymbals) … and they sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord” (Ezra 3:10-11).

I made a note to myself, liminal Lead Pastor that I am: When in liminal space, worship God together. When uncertain and unsettled, worship. When rebuilding a life that has been uprooted, unsettled, discombobulated, worship. When starting a church, rebuilding a Temple post-exile or a church post-Covid, worship together. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face.” “Seek first the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness” (Matthew 6:33). In liminal time, keep first things first: worship together.

That’s how Broadway began 65 years ago. At Broadway’s Charter Day Service on October 5, 1958, our forebears worshipped and began by singing the hymn we sang this morning: “The Church’s One Foundation.” At the Dedication Service of the sanctuary (now The Loft) a year later, October 4, 1959, they worshipped. And to enhance their worship a choir was formed of which it was written, “Many volunteered, some could sing.” Broadway began in worship and as it is written in Ezra 3:2 “And all the people responded with a great shout when they praised the Lord because the foundation of … Broadway … had been laid.”

Please note this small, but important detail. The Scripture says “all the people” (vs. 11) worshipped together. All as in old and young. Ezra says, “old people” (vs. 12) were there who could remember how things were 50 years ago.  I resemble that remark, as many of you do! And young people were there who weren’t even born a half century ago when Israel was exiled. Many of you resemble that remark. “All the people” worshipped together, the old and the young, at Homecoming 523 BCE and we’re doing it this morning “Together at 10:30” at Homecoming 2023 CE.     

And did you hear what happened during that worship service? There was weeping. Ezra says, “Many of the priests and Levites and heads of families, old people who had seen the first [Temple] on its foundations, wept with a loud voice” (vs.12)  There was grief. They were happy to back, yes, but things weren’t the same now, which evoked grief for what was. The old remembered how Jerusalem was 50 years ago – the landmarks, the Temple, the worship – and they grieved. But don’t think the young weren’t grieving, too. Home for them was Babylon. They were born and raised there. They learned to worshipped God in Babylon in a place and style different from how their parents and grandparents worshipped in Jerusalem – in a synagogue, not in a Temple. That was their worship. This worship in Jerusalem on the foundation of the old Temple was different. Don’t you know the young grieved, too? There God’s people were on Homecoming 523 BCE, the old and the young on an empty foundation, remembering what was but not knowing what would be. No wonder “Many wept with a loud voice.”        

But I hasten to add this, what Ezra adds and I quote: “Many … wept with a loud voice though many shouted aloud for joy” (vs. 12). Got that? Mixed in with the grief was joy. Alongside the very real hurt over what was, there was a very real hope for what would be. And according to Ezra, you couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began. “Many … wept with a loud voice… though many shouted aloud for joy … so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping…” (vss. 12-13).

How can that be? How could they have grieved and hoped at the same time? All I can figure is those were people of faith who, though grieving the changes and despite the uncertainty, yet believed in the God who is ever at work “making all things new” (Rev 21:5) They must have known the Psalm that promises, “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy” (126:5). They must have heard Isaiah say, “Thus says the Lord, I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?’” (Isa 43:19). They must have known the adage, “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.” Two things can be true at the same time. It’s possible to stand in the face of loss and grieve and at the same time believe in resurrection! On Homecoming 523 BCE, “Many … wept with a loud voice though many shouted aloud for joy.” And we, too, on Homecoming 2023 can grieve what was a year ago, 25 years ago, 65 years ago, that is no longer. But at the same time, we can believe in what is yet to be. I’m here to tell you that God isn’t done with you yet, Broadway. 

Last Sunday, the Imaginarium Team, one of the Priority Action Teams you birthed for this liminal season, hosted a lunch after worship. The Imaginarium Team is comprised of Syd Stansberry, Linda Smith, David Wallace, and me (ex officio) – a bunch of old codgers. But John DeLaporte, a young man, invited a couple of our recent worship guests, younger families with children and a grandmother. We wanted to hear what they’re looking for in this post-Covid time in a church, why they came to Broadway, and why they’ve come back again and again. There was “a sweet, sweet spirit in that place.” Anna introduced her children, James and Julia, and, I’m not making this up, the couple to my left, Matt and Emily, introduced themselves and then said, “And this is our son Ezra.” 

Broadway, I just want you to know that God sent Ezra to be with us in this liminal time to tell us it’s okay to grieve, but that it’s your birthright as people of faith to be joyously hopeful, too, in anticipation of what God is doing to craft a new day for you.

And this: Davis, the boy you thought would never make it to second base – made it to third that same inning and then scored a run. He made it home!      

            Happy Homecoming, Broadway. You’ve never been this far before. And with God going before you, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!   

            And the old and the young said in a loud voice praising God: AMEN