Hindsight

 

Sermon from 3/7/21 John 2:13-22

          This week we will mark an anniversary: One year since the world shut down in what seemed like the blink of an eye.  One year since everything on our calendars was marked canceled, the stores sold out of toilet paper and we figured out if our webcams worked and how to share zoom links.  Don’t worry, we won’t be rolling out a cake or exchanging gifts for this anniversary, I won’t even say “happy” anniversary.  Our memento is half a million graves and our gifts are the masks we have learned to tighten around our noses. 

 

          When I think back to one year ago I have so many emotions and thoughts.  There are things I wish I would have known then and things I am glad I did not know … like how long it would last.  When we look at things in hindsight we can see it all with new wisdom but the emotions can still feel very real. 

 

          The Gospel passage today is written in hindsight.  The passage ends with “After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.”  We get to hear the wisdom they have gained in hindsight. Looking back on it, they finally understand it and they believe.  I bet there are things they wish they would have known during those days of walking with Jesus and I bet there are things they are glad they did not know … like that the Temple actually would be destroyed in the near future.

 

          Even written in hindsight the emotions are still vivid, deep and palpable.  Perhaps more so knowing that the Temple was in fact destroyed and that the temple of Jesus’ body was in fact destroyed.  The “zeal” or passion Jesus has as he runs around shouting, throwing money and kicking over tables while flinging a cord around; the heat of the moment as he is challenged once again by arguments; the sadness of sharing his nearing death to ears that do not understand and the nostalgia the early hearers of this story must have felt as they heard their beloved and destroyed temple described … all of these emotions are strong, real and very relatable. 

 

          I can relate so deeply to these emotions and the rollercoaster of emotions during this past year.  The anger and frustration as we have failed again and again to come together, to agree to a shared set of data, facts and best practices that could end or slow the spread.  The political arguments, the anger and frustration over racial injustices, the people screaming at each other over mask wearing and the constant criticism for being too careful or not careful enough.  All the while marked by a sadness and despair as we wrestle with our mortality and feel the pain of so many mourning the loss of loved ones.  The emotions are strong, real and relatable. 

 

          I remember feeling just about every possible emotion during the holidays.  COVID numbers were spiking and so we carefully gathered in spaced apart circles, with masks, with limited numbers, mostly outdoors for our Christmas Eve service.  Meanwhile a quick swipe down my social media feeds showed people having large gatherings, going to parties and singing shoulder to shoulder without a mask in sight.  So there was frustration.  The service was beautiful and celebrating the birth of Christ in a field at night warmed my heart as we stood out on the lawn and held up the light of our candles.  But when I entered the worship space I felt a deep sadness that I wasn’t happily watching my children process down the aisle dressed as donkeys or angels.  During the days that followed as a new year approached I felt nostalgic for holidays of the past and my heart swelled with grief as my grandmother took her final labored breaths.  By New Year’s Eve I was ready to be done with the sentimental holidays and could only muster a half-hearted “celebration” with the kids as I set out sparkling grape juice and some silly hats for us to wear.  So we put on our pajamas, snuggled up on the bed with our new puppy and hoped we could at least faintly see the fireworks from Pike’s Peak.  It ended up being a clear night and the fireworks were lovely as were the giggles and hugs.  To my surprise I didn’t feel sad or nostalgic or frustrated at all … I felt complete peace, looking in hindsight at all the emotions of the past year as waves coming to and from the shore, gentle, rhythmic, changing, temporary …  

          That’s the beauty of hindsight; the emotions are still there but with the added wisdom and assurance that it all works out.  The destruction of the temple was utterly devastating, but as those earliest Christians retold the stories of Christ and remembered his words they understood, they believed and they knew it worked out just as he said it would. 

          Every year we retell these stories, every year we reenter into Lent and every year we have this time of careful reflection and repentance, but we always get to do it in hindsight.  We know the way the story ends.  When we read about the suffering and death of Christ the emotions are real but with the added gifts of wisdom and faith … knowing it worked out just as he said it would. 

          I can’t wait to one day gather together and look at the whole COVID experience in hindsight.  Some days I crave that deeply.  I wonder what our future selves might say to us as they look back to this time with hindsight.  Perhaps they might remind us of why we retell these stories, why we relive them, why we carry out our traditions and liturgies … so that we don’t forget the words of Christ … so that we never forget that they are always true and the love and assurance of Christ is true.