Just ask the fish

Sermon for Wartburg College

 Leviticus 25:23-24

“‘The land must not be sold permanently, because the land is mine and you reside in my land as foreigners and strangers. ²⁴ Throughout the land that you hold as a possession, you must redeem the land.

Job 12:7-10

⁷ “But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
    the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
⁸ ask the plants of the earth, and they will teach you,
    and the fish of the sea will declare to you.
⁹ Who among all these does not know
    that the hand of the Lord has done this?
¹⁰ In his hand is the life of every living thing
    and the breath of every human being.

Two words from God to you and me this morning: 1. The land is not yours, and 2. If you want to look for God at play, you better get out and let the animals and the plants teach you.

Camp Counselor God gives a two sermon series on outdoor ministry first to the campers at Mount Sinai. This is not your land; you are foreigners on the land; care for, nay redeem the land. Then, camp counselor God uses Job to for the second half, which is simply: Look outside. The world out there will teach you.

Ours is a faith “open to the skies.” It is only because we live in Iowa and some of you insist on wearing basketball shorts in February that I am not demanding we do this outdoors. Outside, our senses activate in ways they cannot within these walls. We hear chirps and creaking trees, and we feel the razor edge of a blade of grass and seeds rubbing between our fingers; we spot hawks rising on the thermals and we may wonder, Are they singing the beauty of the morning, as well? And, then inevitably, we wonder, What is behind all this? For many of us, for the first time in a long time, we slow down. We disconnect.

To linger outdoors is an affront to a busy world. Some of you are itching right now to get back on your phones. And I’m not going to judge either; you are captive to those things, so go ahead, check that snapchat right now. I won’t judge, but you might—I suspect many of you are the very best at judging yourselves in this indoor world full of pressure. Pressure to check in… pressure to be better… pressure to do enough… pressure to impress… pressure to not fall behind.

You see, when I decided to preach on Leviticus this morning, I did so very aware that if you know anything about Leviticus it is probably about all those holiness code rules, and even the hint of me—the outsider—coming to your place of refuge and preaching on more rules may well have put your guard up, not because you don’t need rules (some of you could do with following a few more rules if we are being honest). No, you don’t need the Bible to beat you up because you are already the best at it. The indoor world of pressure has turned us in on ourselves and so we live in our own little caves with the walls pressing in—pressure to conform, pressure to be our own self. Isn’t it amazing that you can feel both those pressures at once?

⁷ “But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
    the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
⁸ ask the plants of the earth, and they will teach you,
    and the fish of the sea will declare to you… 

The great thing about fish is that they don’t give a damn about cultivating a brand. Not once have I seen a bass carefully posing for Instagram.

The great thing about plants is that they have no sense of who is prettiest. Of course, they are pretty—they just don’t care.

Birds do not care about job opportunities.

Squirrels don’t dress to impress.

But you—you feel that pressure. So, there are two ways to hear those words from Leviticus—you do not own the land, it is not yours. You can hear it is as a limitation, as a thing to overcome, as a reminder of what you still need to achieve. You can march right out of the chapel and think to yourself, “I better go get that land.” Or you can take it as God meant it—the context of Leviticus 25 is jubilee. And jubilee is this awesome biblical concept of debt forgiveness which foreshadows what we come to know as grace. That the land is not yours? That is grace. Because the only thing ownership has ever brought you is pressure. Ownership has only ever taught you that you are not enough.

So, I have just one piece of wisdom for you today: In a world that tells you to own things, be an outsider instead. Stop owning things—owning your image, owning your work. Instead of owning those things, be stewards. Plant seeds whose growth does not depend on your righteousness and whose fruits will appear long after you are gone. Then, go take a walk and learn from the world around you—a world full of grace for imperfect people you like and me. God’s grace certainly is about salvation at the end of our lives, but it is also about what it means to live as if it is true right now. Free from the indoor world of pressure. Just ask the fish…

Amen.