Plymouth Congregational Church of Fort Wayne, UCC
April 18, 2010
Third Sunday of Easter

Scripture Lesson:  Acts 9:1-9

Lightning Strikes

"... Now as Saul was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light
from heaven flashed around him.  He fell to the ground and heard a voice ..."
(Acts 9:3-4)

Prelude

This morning I'd like to speak to the theme:

"Lightning Strikes." 

I heard this week a story about lighting strikes.  It comes from

Bob Nance.  I've wrestled with whether or not to tell this - for I

really don't want to offend anyone with language some may

consider inappropriate for worship.  The story speaks of a priest

and parishioner on the golf course.  The parishioner is not having

good day of striking the ball.  It started on the first tee with an

errant drive into the rough.  "Damn," the parishioner muttered.

The priest was quick to counsel, "Now, please, it's a poor start

to be sure, but let it not spoil, nor set the tone for what is to

follow; let's be mindful, it's just a game we're playing. 

The second hole, a second errant shot, slice into a fairway

sand bunker.  "Damn," the parishioner responded.  Again,

the priest pursed his lips, shook his head, then counseled restraint.

"Please, my child, tempt not the Lord with the tongue.  Nothing

good can come of it." 

On the third hole, the parishioner was putting for a birdie, and

he missed. "Damn," he screamed, stomping his foot.  No sooner

said and having stomped, a bolt of lightning split the sky, and

hit the priest, killing him on the spot.  The golfer was stunned,

as well you might expect.  And then there came a voice from heaven.

"Damn! Missed again!"

The theme is lightning strikes.

Lightning - an atmospheric discharge of electricity,

always occurring in conjunction with thunder

when storms pass through.

Lightning - often seen in storms, bolting through the sky,

cloud to cloud; less often seen in descent,

a strike stretching from cloud to ground. 

As a child I was taught:  if lightning you behold,

then count, and listen for the thunder;

when you hear that which you have seen

(for light is far swifter than sound)

then you have an approximate distance of the storm

from your location.  If there is simultaneous lighting and thunder,

it is too late to seek shelter; you are well in the thick of it.

Lightning.  A bolt (at least according to my source)

can reach a temperature of over 54,000 degree (F); 30,000 (C),

far exceeding the temperature of the sun;

sufficient to turn soil/sand into channels of glass.

It travels at a speed of 60,000 miles in a second,

depending upon conditions and its path.

There are, I've read, over 16 million lightning storms every year,

resulting in 8 million lightning strikes a day around the world;

with 100 lightning strikes per second each day.  

In the course of a 20 minute sermon,

you can estimate 120,000 lighting strikes somewhere in our world.

That's a whole lot of lightning!

I wonder:  is lighting to strike anywhere near today?

Will lightning strike here?

We have to be careful now - for lightning is dangerous.

I recall in Michigan, following a Sunday service,

a parishioner, when entering car, was knocked

to the ground as a bolt traveled through the body.

All was safe during sermon, song, and prayers,

but there was a hit, a strike from the sky,

on the knoll of a small hill that served as parking lot.

It was a brush with death,

and there was gladness to have missed it.

Lightning strikes are serious matters.

Lightning sends swimmers to the shore,

and golfers running to find shelter,

and parishioners are induced to pray -

all for good reason.

          *****                   *****                   *****

I speak of "lightning strikes" because this is

a peace and justice weekend at Plymouth,

and as we ponder our lives, our histories, and our

world, we are left with so many why's and why not's.

This past Tuesday night some of us gathered at

Temple Achduth Vesholom for Yom HaShoah -

annual remembrance of the camp fires, the ovens,

that sought to extinguish a people from the face

of the earth.  Many have subsequently asked:

where was the lightning to halt the "final solution,"

designed to dispose of the Jew and those who befriended them?

This past Thursday some of us had opportunity to

be on campus to hear Judy Shepard speak, as part

of the student-led "victory over violence" week.

Judy was mother of Matthew Shepard, the 21-year old

who was murdered in 1998.  He was killed due to

his being different, a gay man.  Mother Judy now

devotes a good measure of time promoting hate crime

legislation and encouraging diversity awareness,

compassion, and acceptance.

Where was the lightning,

what withheld the lightning,

what sparked the lightning,

to have good come from

that tragic and horrific episode?

Friday night Morris Dees, founder of the Southern

Poverty Law Center, was honored guest and speaker

at the Grand Wayne Center.

There came a time in his life when

he was struck by lightning, sold a lucrative business,

that he might give his life to help protect and preserve

the rights of others, to combat the hate and prejudice

and fear that is so corrosive in our society.

Saturday we had sacred conversation on race,

and we gathered in the Folsom Room to work on

"the wound" (racism) that is lodged in the heart of the nation,

that cannot be wished away, that we dare not treat carelessly

(UCC "Pastoral Letter on Race," spring, 2008).

It has been a week of strange convergences in our city;

from so many people having been targets of hate,

people literally damned; condemned to lives judged

deficient and subject to cruelty/violence due to difference.

And yet, there are those quarters who persist in maintaining

hope that peace might prevail,

that justice might flourish

in this great land of ours. 

Surely the peace will come,

surely the justice will prevail,

 when lightning strikes.

          *****                   *****                   *****

Lighting strikes.   This was the subject of our scripture lesson,

which spoke to us of Saul (not yet Paul), having sought

and gained permission to go to Damascus

to find, expose, and to condemn disciples of the Lord,

men and women who dared live the Way of life defined by Jesus.

Saul is the most significant character in the

first century revelation of God in Jesus Christ.

No hand has so shaped, no mind so conceived

of life in Christ through his writings, and his mission

efforts.  Because of what he became, it is easy

to understate, or misread, the fullness of his life story.

The Paul we call saint was not a cradle Christian. 

He had a past when he was Saul,

when in defense of all he considered holy and good,

he became what he most feared

in his mistaken perception of those

whose difference he did not understand. 

We are first introduced to Saul at the stoning of Stephen.

Stephen's preaching (Acts 7:1-53) had so enraged his

audience, they silenced him with eviction from the city

of Jerusalem and a vigilante sentence of death with stones.

(see Acts 7:58).  Those who carried out this killing had removed

their coats and placed them at the feet of Saul.  In Acts,

chapter 7, in chapter 8:1, and then in chapter 9:1, we read

three most telling descriptions of Saul. 

In chapter 7:58, he is identified as a "young man."

In 8:1, he is said to have "consented" to the killing of Stephen.

In chapter 9, "Saul, still breathing threats and murder against

the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest"

One translation reads:  "Saul, whose heart was still set on

threats and murder ..." (Anchor Bible, Johannes Munck, p. 80)

Saul, we see, was a practitioner in the principled use of violence.

He didn't secretly harbor his hate - he transported it. 

He didn't follow orders - he issued orders.

He was team leader, project manager, committee chair,

precinct captain, seeking those he meant to harm

and desired to hunt;

he got permission to cross lines,

to invade communities not of his own.

He was young. Knowing everything.

Knowing nothing.  

That's when the lighting struck.

That's when the voice sounded.

That's when Saul was knocked down to the ground.

That's when Jesus pleaded.

"Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?"

If we hear no other line of scripture this morning,

let it be just this.  When we demonstrate contempt for

people different than what we are, ponder Jesus speaking:

"... why do you persecute me?"

For Saul, there was a flash of light.

Lightning struck.  The setting was changed.

And then there came the downloading

of the essential document.

"Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked.

Saul, I am Jesus,

as you are doing

unto others, you are doing to me,

and it's not OK.

          *****                   *****                   *****

This morning I want to sound this plea

for an understanding of lightning and why it is necessary.

Some of us have soft hearts,

easily moved, and lightning may not be on our menu.

But some of us are tough nuts with hard shells,

and we need to be cracked to expose the heart with which God

can work, the heart which God desires to fill

with goodness, mercy, and grace.

I believe:

lightning strikes change the setting of our hearts.

Lightning strikes - that we might hear

the voices to which we have been deaf.

Lightning strikes - that our narrow aims

and anger might be halted.

Lightning strikes - that we might come to awareness;

quickening the conscience, raise the consciousness

of that which we do. 

There are telling words from the cross of Jesus

that we neglect to our peril. 

Remember?   Jesus needed to pray: 

"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do."

Lightning is a jarring encounter with reality,

disclosing how far we have fallen from

the state of grace

God desires for our lives.

Lightning strikes - that we might be receptive to the word

God desires to speak for life.  Saul was a menace. 

He was a terrorist.  In his own words:

"I was violently persecuting the church of God

and trying to destroy it" (Galatians 1:13).

In his zeal "for the traditions of (his) ancestors,"

he was destructive of others, destructive to himself. 

The lightning suspended his life.

It was prelude to a reversal of his righteous cruelty,

leading to the redemption and salvaging of his life.

The lightning blinded; and for three days,

Saul neither ate nor drank. 

Then came the transformation:  new life.

The new creation. 

If you know this story, you know Saul became Paul. 

He became a part of the Way he persecuted and sought to

destroy.  In what he hated, he found peace and joy

and the surpassing love of Christ. 

I believe, ever more and more,

we need lightning strikes in the church.

We need lightning strikes in our nation:

for those who cry:  "I want my country back."

We need lightning strikes in our city councils

for those who say, we don't need to talk about

issues facing certain small numbers in our community.

We need lightning strikes in our schools

to electrify the minds, to fire the imaginations,

to stoke the spirits, to spark the souls

of students and teachers alike -

that we should,

we can,

we will do better.  

We need lighting strikes in every heart

filled with fear that someone other, someone different,

can do you more harm than you can do to yourself.

          *****                   *****                   *****

As we ponder God's call to be a peacemaking,

justice-seeking people, may we consider where

and in what ways we stand in need of lightning to strike.

Take such ponderings to the Lord in prayer.

Again, and again, and yet again. 

Be certain of this.  However dark the night, the light

of God never misses.  The light of God never misleads.

The lightning strikes always accomplish their purposes.

And in that purpose, we find life, peace and praise.

So may it be for each and all of us.

Amen.