Who Are You?
Hebrews 12:18-29
August 24, 2003
St. John United Methodist Church
David Beckett, D.Min.

Earthquakes! Most of us have experienced the little ones. Do you remember the quake we had last fall when many of us were in this room during our church conference? Is there anyone here who was around for the big one in 1964? Many Alaskan towns were devastated on that fateful Good Friday.

Earthquakes remind us just how fragile is our world. As the earth itself slips and slides under our feet, our cities come tumbling down, and the security of our communities is dashed to pieces.

The text from Hebrews this week suggests that we will not even escape being shaken up in heaven. The promise of the gospel is this: As long as we cling to our quake-proof sanctuary, that is, the mercy and love of the resurrected Christ, we will be perfectly safe. But the tremors will be felt.

In the event of physical earthquakes, most of us have some idea what we should do in order to maximize our safety and chances for survival. And we all have "earthquake kits" stocked with emergency food, water, survival gear and first aid supplies. Right?

In Alaska we understand the need to prepare for winter, to prepare for earthquakes. But are we as prepared for all the spiritual quakes and shakes we shall encounter in our daily lives? What is your first reaction when the earth begins to shift and the supports you have built your life upon begin to sway and crack? What do you do when you lose your job and your standard of living is threatened?

What do you do when a spouse or a child suddenly dies?

What do you do when the nest is suddenly empty?

What do you do when illness or injury incapacitates you?

What do you do when a divorce stares you in the face/

What is it that remains solid in your life when all its familiar standards are shaken?

I'd like to ask five questions most of us have already asked at some point in our lives. The five questions are: (1) Who are you? (2) Where do you come from? (3) Where are you going? (4) What is your purpose? (5) How long will you be?

We could answer this relationally. We are brothers or sisters, husbands or wives, fathers or mothers, sons or daughters. But that identity is not all we are. We could answer this vocationally. We are what we do. We are oil workers or business managers or auto mechanics or teachers or homemakers or lawyers or police officers. But that identity is not all we are.

Our identity is further fragmented if we attempt to define ourselves as conservative or liberal, Democrat or Republican, optimist or pessimist, Protestant or Catholic. All those facets of your identity can be shaken away.

There is one unquakable truth about you that can never be disturbed. Who are you? You are a child of God. That is our most fundamental identity: sons and daughters of God.

Americans are the most mobile people in the world. We are on the move constantly. Whether in search of new jobs, new scenery, new chances or a whole new life, we move from place to place without ever putting down roots. Perhaps this is part of the reason it has become so important to claim ourselves as "hyphenated-Americans" these days: Asian-Americans, African--Americans, European-Americans, Latino- Americans.

As Christians, we can claim as our heritage a rich lineage of relations who will never disown us. Our genealogy comes from the history of Genesis through the visions of Revelation. Our people are the people of God. Our spiritual ancestors are the patriarchs and matriarchs, the kings and queens, the spies and

prostitutes, the tax collectors and fishermen and prophets. It is a heritage that is vast and unshakable.

All of us like to feel as if we are going somewhere -- preferably up the economic ladder. For generations Americans have worked hard so their children could have a better life. Now, it appears children don't have much of a chance to do "better" than their parents. Economic shakeups are among the most frequently recurring tremors that we must learn to ride out. Gauging where you are going by how you are doing economically may end up giving you a life-map that looks like a roller-coaster track at the amusement park.

For those whose faith is centered in Christ, the destination is sure. The text from Hebrews calls it "Mount Zion," or "the city of the living God," or "the heavenly Jerusalem." All these celestial addresses are attempts to describe the goal and glory of basking in the presence of God. A life of faith is lived knowing

that there is no road we may travel, no matter how twisty or bumpy it may seem, that does not lead us into the presence of God.

This question stares accusingly at some people throughout their lives. They shuffle from one job to another, one fad to the next. They don't know whether to become vegetarians or Young Republicans, save the rain forests or start their own business. Unsure of their directions or convictions, they sink into apathy and end up doing nothing. At age 45, they are still wondering what they will be when they grow up.

Others have just the opposite anxiety. These are the people who join every committee ever formed and volunteer to be the chairperson. They cram their lives with "activities" from sunup to way past sundown. But when things begin to shake, they, too, may find there is little "purpose" to all their busy-ness. Instead of

serving the rules of any particular organization, the Christian life is dedicated toward a purpose whose nature enables it to be infused into every facet of our existence. Our purpose is to love and serve the Lord and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Few realities of life bring on the shakes more swiftly than the fact of human mortality. Truth be told: It is the fear of death that makes life such a frantic, frazzled dance. "How long do we have?" is the question each of us longs to ask, yet doesn't want to know the answer to. The Christian's great key to peace is that Christ has given us the answer. Through his life, death, and the miracle of his resurrection, Christ is able to offer us no less than eternal life. "How long will we be?" We will be forever.

David Niven, in The Oxford Book of Military Anecdotes, relates this true story from World War II about a British officer driving through Germany in the first days after the German surrender. Try to place yourself in this story as the British officer explains in his own words what happened: I passed a farm wagon headed for the village. I glanced casually at the two men sitting up behind the horse. Both wore typical farmer headgear, and sacks were thrown over their shoulders, protecting them from a light drizzle. We were just past them when something made me slam on the brakes and back up. I was right! The man who was not driving was wearing field boots. I slipped out from behind the wheel, pulled my revolver from its holster and told the corporal to cover me with his Tommy gun.

I gestured to the men to put their hands over their heads and told them in fumbling German to produce their papers. "I speak English," said the one with the field boots. "This man has papers -- I have none."

"Who are you?" I asked. He told me his name and rank -- general. "We are not armed," he added, as I hesitated. I motioned them to lower their hands. "Where are you coming from, sir?"

He looked down at me. I had never seen such utter weariness, such blank despair on a human face before. He passed a hand over the stubble of his chin. "BERLIN," he said quietly.

"Where are you going, sir?"

He looked ahead down the road toward the village and closed his eyes. "Home," he said, almost to himself. "It's not far now ... only ... one more kilometer."

I didn't say anything. He opened his eyes again, and we stared at each other. We were quite still for a long time. Then I said, "Go ahead, sir," and added ridiculously, "Please, cover up your boots." Almost as though in pain, he closed his eyes and

raised his head. Then, with sobbing intakes of breath, he covered his face with both hands, and they drove on ... to home.

In the midst of the rubble and anguish of a world war, where toughness and ruthlessness were advantages simply for the sake of survival, that incident seems almost out of place. Yet it suggests that behind even the harshest exterior, there is the capacity within each of us to give our hearts away in love to others.

I know that some of us are hurting right now. We are traveling a path filled with darkness, pain, and loneliness. Our lives have been shaken at the very foundation. Like this defeated German general we would dwell more on the failures of our past than the hope of our future. Let us never forget that no matter what OUR condition...that God is as real RIGHT NOW as God ever will be in the future. And may we all remember that although we are called to live in the present, we are going home...to our heavenly home...to the place where we belong. And no earthquake, no failure, no pain, no amount of suffering can ever take that away from those who trust in Christ.

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