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5 Easter All Saints, East Lansing Jeremiah 29:4-14 (not lectionary) May 10, 2020 (pandemic)

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Did you see the video of CNN anchor Anderson Cooper announcing the birth of his son? It’s the sweetest thing, as this brand new dad proudly shows off his son, talks about the legacy of his family, gets choked up, and blushes in joy and pride. He says he is “beyond happy” with this “new life and new love.”

Or maybe you saw the video of Meghan Markle reading to her one year old son Archie, with Prince Harry behind the camera. The proud parents don’t make any attempt to hide their pride and delight as Archie excitedly turns pages, chews on the corner of the book, and drops another book on the floor just for fun.

All this joy is such a contrast to nearly every other bit of news. Even the good news that is often about people fighting or surviving the pain and struggles of this pandemic. The bits of real, pure good news are rare. But the birth of Wyatt Cooper – and every healthy baby - is pure good news. A happy, healthy baby celebrating a first birthday, is pure good news. Even in a pandemic, the gift of new little ones who have been loved, nurtured, and dreamed of long before anyone heard of ‘covid-19’ cannot be lost.

I have more good news for you. On Friday, our own dear friends Ashley Hill and Tyler Holmes got married! Pastor Kit officiated the service in the Grove Street porch here at All Saints - following all the requirements of social distancing to keep everyone safe. And though it’s not what they originally planned and certainly

1 not how they hoped to celebrate their love, and start their new lives together, nothing changes the joy and hope of their marriage.

There is so much bad news. And so much nothing news – you know, reports of all the ‘nothing’ that we’re doing. It feels as if we’re in a holding pattern – like we’re circling an airport at the end of a long flight. We’re trying to distract ourselves. We’re trying to stay busy. We’re doing the work we can at 30,000 feet. We’re keeping kids occupied and trying to make sure this isn’t wasted time and we’re trying to keep them from melting down – all while we’re trying to avoid melting down too. And it just goes on and on and on. “Why, won’t this plane land already?!” I feel like screaming. And we inevitably have periods of mindlessly watching time pass. Everything is on hold and we are simply trying to get through.

Today’s lesson from Jeremiah comes from a similar time. The people of Israel had been carried off into captivity in Babylon. And they’ve been there a while. Their old lives are simply gone. And not only that, but they’ve been cut off from their God, as well.

The temple in Jerusalem is the place where God dwelled, the place where God’s people encountered their God – the same God who appeared to Moses and carried them out of slavery. The God who had given them the Law and made a covenant with them, that he would be their God and they would be his people. This God, who sustained them through , war, and everyday sorrow. The temple was where their priests made offerings to God and fulfilled the responsibilities of their covenant. The place where widows prayed for deliverance and arguing neighbors

2 sought resolution. The temple was the anchor of their spiritual lives but also of their identity as a community, as a nation. They do not know who they are, separated from God.

“How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” the Psalmist asks.

They do not know when it will end, or how. Plenty of people are speculating about what’s to come. … Sound familiar?

Different factions within Israel, with different leaders, are claiming to be the next king. Some are making deals with Babylon in Jerusalem, others are resisting. Jeremiah is called by God to proclaim a different message, and to restore the exiles’ relationship to God. It’s not exactly good news, as is so often true with the Biblical prophets. But it is hopeful.

He tells them that they’re going to be there awhile – 70 years. Longer than they wandered in the desert of Egypt. Longer than most of them will live. And so, he says, Live Now! Don’t wile away your time being heartbroken. Don’t waste the life you’ve been given. Build houses and plant gardens – make a home for yourselves where you are. Set down roots – and not just for yourselves but for those around you.

That must have set their teeth on edge. Jeremiah tells them to pray for the place of their exile – the people who have taken them captive. It goes against every instinct to wish good for your enemies, but that’s what God desires. (That should ring a bell for us) Israel can only prosper if Babylon, their new home prospers.

3 And, Jeremiah says, don’t give up on the future that God is preparing for you and your descendants. That means you have to have descendants! So, get married and have families. Teach your children to love God and don’t be led astray by those who promise something else.

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. … I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you… and I will bring you back... says the Lord,

Their old lives are gone. But God has not abandoned them.

At times, our old lives seem like a distant memory. And some lives will never will be the same, because of the loss of loved ones, businesses, or jobs. Others of us are… fine – we really are – but somehow everything is still different. Schools are different, jobs are different, and church is different. We are exiles. Not taken captive by any army, but by a virus against which we have no defense. And that’s not changing anytime soon. Okay, maybe more like 7 months, not 70 years… All the more reason to take Jeremiah’s advice.

So, Ashley and Tyler are beginning a new chapter of their lives, thanks be to God, complete with a new house sometime soon. Jeremiah would be pleased.

4 And babies are being born. And birthdays and anniversaries are being celebrated. Students are graduating. None of it is the same, but all of it is real and good. We are developing new skills - in communications, and bread baking, and Netflix hunting. J But also in patience, forgiveness, and faithfulness.

And we are learning new ways of praying together. At times it is physically painful to be cut off from one another – particularly at this time of the week – and from the space where we gather. I can tell you that the church building is not the same without you. It grows lonelier and lonelier each week. But just as the people of Israel discovered when they were cut off from the temple, we are experiencing, right here and right now, that the Church is not the building, God does not live in a particular place. The Church is us - the Body of Christ – and God is with us.

So live! Keep laughing together and crying together and finding new ways to pass the time. Be sad when you’re sad, but don’t resist joy when it comes. Don’t waste your energy railing against things that cannot be changed.

But DO work to make things better – seek the welfare of those who are being abandoned by unjust systems. Stay engaged in the world around us because we only prosper when everyone prospers. Give to those who need help. Advocate for change in our public policy. Teach peace and love and justice.

This will end. We know that we will look back at this time and shake our heads – a little surprised, still, that we lived at such a time. And heartbroken about what’s

5 been lost. And at that time, God will gather us together again. God will bring us back from this time of exile. And we will have stories to tell! Babies to show off, pictures to share. Lives that have been changed by this experience and faith that has been deepened.

Amen.

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