Metaphors are powerful things. They grab our imaginations
and illustrate truth or ideas in vivid ways more powerfully than simple, direct
speech. Take a look at some of these visual metaphors.
Scientists even show us
that metaphors impact how we think about and solve problems.
The Hebrew prophets would surely have agreed with Joseph
Campbell who said: “If you want to change the world, you have to change the
metaphor.”
Our text from Zechariah today offers us just such a world-changing
metaphor. His metaphor for God’s end-game is children at play. We’re going to see that the playful
end to which we are called is not some distant, scary apocalyptic metaphor, but
a present, hopeful vision for our lives personally and corporately as followers
of Jesus. Our apocalypse looks like this . . .
And this metaphor of play will actually frame how we think
and behave as the church. What might happen if the church anchors itself deeply
in an image of play? What if playfulness became our metaphor for the mind of
God and the mission we are called to?
Zechariah teaches us that . . .
1. To be able to play, the church needs to be
reminded of God’s providence. This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Once again
men and women of ripe old age will sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each of
them with cane in hand because of their age. 5 The city streets will be filled
with boys and girls playing there.”(Zech. 8:4-5)
In order to play we need to feel free to play. We can play
because my fate, your fate, the world’s fate and its end, don’t stand on my
shoulders, my efforts, “my” will but God’s will and grace.
The first thing one notices from Zechariah 8 is how often
God states that he will accomplish his work.
“I will return . . . and dwell”, vs. 3
“I will save . . .”, vs. 7
“I will bring . . .”, vs. 8
“I will be faithful and righteous to them . . .” vs. 8
“I will save you . . .”, vs. 13
“I have determined . . .”, vs. 15
In fact, God’s gracious activity, God’s “I will,” on the one
hand, helps me to confess that, “I won’t. I can’t.” It allows me to admit my
frailty, my brokenness, my failures. But more importantly, God’s “I will” means
that we don’t have to. What if the long list of “to dos” that ever seems to
swamp us, threatening to drown us in a sea of activity wasn’t fundamentally
“ours”? That would mean that I don’t have to pretend to be a pro in the game of
life but can by God’s grace recognize that I will always be a beginner in this
game, can keep my amateur status. And even when the stakes feel really high and
the score seems awfully low, I can hear God’s rhetorical question in
vs. 6, “Do you really think that this is too good to be true, too
difficult for me to do?” The good news of the gospel throughout scripture is
God’s, “I will.”
Zechariah’s metaphor for what God’s “I will” is like is a life
of leisurely grace. Vss. 4 and 5 offer this amazing image of carefree elderly in
the market square and screaming children playing in the streets. This is more
than a quaint image. In ancient cultures, there were two fundamental needs of
society: to work, which meant to help feed the community, and to fight, to
protect people, food and resources. Though the elderly and children find
themselves center stage in God’s new city, in God’s economy, they can do
neither – neither work nor fight. They don’t contribute to the national
prosperity or protection. They play.
When I was a professor I loved to tease my students by
telling them that there was no such thing as “school work”. In line with the
thinking of our passage, the ancient Greek word σχολή (Latin “scholae”), which forms our words like
“school,” “scholarship”, etc. originally meant “rest or leisure.” Why? Because
if you were able to study in the ancient world it meant you neither had to work
in the fields nor fight. An apocalyptic image of children at play reminds us
that God didn’t make us to serve him. He created us because he thought we would
enjoy it. Our identity as a church, as the people of God, is not secured by
acquiring some social status or by what we possess. Our status is defined by a
God whose “I will” allows us to play.
2. A
church at play fights for justice with joy. 9 This
is what the Lord Almighty says: “Now hear
these words, ‘Let your hands be strong . . . 16 These are the things you are to
do: Speak the truth to each other, and render true and sound judgment in your
courts; 17 do not plot evil against
each other, and do not love to swear falsely. (8:9, 16-17)
It’s important to be reminded that God in our midst does not
mean grace is a self-absorbed desire to merely entertain ourselves. Recovering
a sense of play and celebration does not mean that there are no challenges. The
best games are those that demand from us skill and strength.Our text references that
there is a fight to be had – “to strengthen your hands” (vss. 9 & 13) is a
biblical idiom for fighting courageously (c.f. Judges 7:11; 2 Sam. 2:7, 16:21).
But the metaphor of play helps illustrate both what we fight for and how we fight. We fight for justice with joy. Just consider Jesus.
But the metaphor of play helps illustrate both what we fight for and how we fight. We fight for justice with joy. Just consider Jesus.
Our gospel reading from Luke 7 shows us that though Jesus
worked hard and certainly called out unrighteousness, he performed his ministry
of justice in a spirit of playful joy. He had only three and a half years of
pastoral ministry but chose to spend a whole week celebrating at a wedding
(that’s often how long they traditionally lasted). When the wine ran out, Jesus
performed his first miracle – a “party miracle”. He told silly stories, acted
irreverently and celebrated often enough that he was accused of being a glutton
and a drunkard and defined that playful work– restoring people to God, to others
and themselves – as justice work.
Jesus would agree
with a leading environmentalist who said: “I hate environmentalists who
are always grouchy. They forget the joy of making a difference.” When we play
we remember that justice work isn’t about grouchiness but joy.
Did you notice that justice (God’s restorative work) in this
passage is defined in two ways: one is not surprisingly God’s work of restoring
creation – vs. 12 speaks The
seed will grow well, the vine will yield its fruit, the ground will produce its
crops, and the heavens will drop their dew. I will give all these things . . .
It’s about the earth being made whole. God undoing the sin that harms the
earth. It’s about God giving joyfully.
And the second element of justice is not about punishing
others, shaming them, or calling them out (though I’m not suggesting that there
isn’t a place for that). It’s first and foremost about disciplining ourselves (not
others) to be fair, truthful, and kind (vss. 16-17). Justice is about focusing
on how we treat each other because justice, according to God, is about joyfully
restoring right relationships between us and God, us and others, and between us
and all of creation. Justice is about learning to play with others.
You can’t play with others or create justice by yelling at them
or trafficking in shame– “So help me you’d better play or you’re gonna get it!”
or “You’re awful and wicked and nasty and horrible, would you like to play with
me?!” So we need to stop defining God’s justice like a first-person shooter
video game where we imagine that God or we should pick off our adversaries with
military like precision. If the metaphor we think with is children playing in
the streets then justice should be done with joy and laughter because the goal
of God’s game is not to slay the opponent but to make them a friend. God’s end
game is fundamentally about belonging. And that brings me to my final point –
the goal of the game.
3.
A
church at play understands that the goal of the game is clinging to Jesus and
helping others grab his robe. 20 This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Many peoples
and the inhabitants of many cities will yet come, 21 and the
inhabitants of one city will go to another and say, ‘Let us go at once to entreat
the Lord and seek the Lord Almighty. I myself am going.’
22And many peoples and powerful nations will come
to Jerusalem to seek the Lord Almighty and to entreat him.”23 This
is what the Lord Almighty says: “In those days ten people from all languages and
nations will take firm hold of one Jew by the hem of his robe and say, ‘Let us
go with you, because we have heard that God is with you.’”(Zech. 8:20-23)
It’s worth asking if anyone outside of the church would have
a reason to act out vss. 20-23 in our midst? Would anyone want
to belong with us, demand that we take them with us? The polls aren’t
looking so good. They tell us that the unchurched associate us precisely with
anti-invitation, contra-belonging impulses of hatred, discrimination, shame and
fear rather than joy and play.
But there’s hope even here. This “one Jew” in vs. 23 is none
other than God himself in Jesus Christ who was born, taught us about God and
God’s love, suffered on a Roman cross, and rose from the dead. Our end is God’s
gracious, hilarious, bold, welcome and invitation through Jesus Christ. He is
Emmanuel – “God with us.” He is the one who became for us vs. 13 “our curse”
and “blessing.” And so I want to invite you this morning – if you haven’t
grabbed a hold of him – to do so. It demands no more or less from you than
that.
For most of us, clinging to Jesus happened because someone
grabbed us, loved on us and helped us belong. Who grabbed you? Who helped you
belong?
I recently saw the documentary film about Mr. Rogers called
“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” The film ended by sharing how he concluded most of
his graduation speeches. He would say:
From the time you were
very little, you've had people who have smiled you into smiling, people who
have talked you into talking, sung you into singing, loved you into loving. So,
on this extra special day, let's take some time to think of those extra special
people. Some of them may be right here, some may be far away. Some may even be
in heaven. No matter where they are, deep down you know they've always wanted
what was best for you. They've always cared about you beyond measure and have
encouraged you to be true to the best within you. Let's just take a minute of silence
to think about those people now.
Friends, who invited you to belong and to play? Who lead you
to God? Take a whole minute to remember and be thankful for them.