I begin this morning a new sermon series which will culminate in a great Laity Sunday celebration on October 21st. For these four weeks, we will be exploring together "The Gifts of God for the People of God." Through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, God has lavished the church with a bounty of spiritual gifts which come to us as our lives are transformed into the new life of Christ Jesus. God takes ordinary people, if you will, and gives us what we need to be holy: gifts of teaching, prophecy, administration, healing, service.

And let me tell you that much of what is energizing a renewal across the church at this moment in history is a claiming of those gifts by God's people. Some of you have become acquainted with Spiritual Gifts through your participation in various study groups here-the Lay Speakers program, Companions in Christ, and so forth. Believe you me, all of us are going to be learning about Spiritual Gifts in the weeks and months to come. For the continuous renewing of the church, the enlivening of the Body of Christ for each new age, comes not from the top down, nor from slogans nor programs nor church growth techniques, however helpful all that might be, but from genuine renewal within the life of God's people.

There are many gifts of the spirit and, in time, we will learn about them all. Today, in light of where we are as a nation following the terrible attacks of September 11th, I will begin this series focussing on one, God's gift of hope. God's gift of hope, poured into our hearts through the love of the Holy Spirit. And hope does not disappoint, Paul says.

Now you might be asking yourself: How in the world does one talk of hope at a time of intense shock and grief? How does one dare to talk of hope when our hearts are broken and our confidence shaken to the core? How does one begin to talk of hope when we are so frightened of the future?

Dear brothers and sisters, precisely in this moment God is calling us to that deep, deep hope that has sustained God's people from generation to generation, hope that has sustaining power strong enough to endure slavery and exile and famine and imprisonment and persecution and crucifixion. We have read of that hope. We have heard of that hope. It is God's gift to us. And now we can claim it for ourselves.

Hope for a time when hope seems lost. As a nation, we are suffering from intense shock and grief. Whether or not we personally knew someone who was killed, we have all been profoundly impacted and changed by what has happened and now what we are continuing to learn about the terrorists and their plans and their networks. We are seeing the preparations for a war that yet has no discernable shape, though we see the build-up and feel the rumblings and foresee the loss. And we are all impacted by the hit that our economy has taken, and our communities are filling with people needing jobs and food and shelter and medical care.

The president has called upon us to be prepared to sacrifice. We want to be brave, but we don't yet know what will be asked or required.

Many have noted that, for the young, this will be their defining moment. This heinous tragedy will mark forever their sense of the world, their sense of themselves in the world, as for earlier generations it was the Depression, or Pearl Harbor, or Vietnam. But the American historian and writer, Taylor Branch, has observed: "I tend to think it's a mistake to slice this up and say it's a test for only one segment of the population. I think it's a test for all of us. If it's a turning point, it's a turning point against a generation of cynicism for all of us, not just for one."

Turning from a generation of cynicism. Even Hollywood is wrestling now with what is hip and cool. Comedians are redefining what is funny. Fashion, art, and theater have all been affected. What it means to be a hero has been completely redefined. Stars and athletes are out. Firemen and rescue workers have won our hearts.

Yes, let us turn from cynicism and superficiality. But, to what? There's a danger that our initial acts of reaching out and connecting will be replaced by a renewed drawing in, a diminishing of contact and heightened self-centeredness. I think there's a danger now that our grief and shock and anger might be so great that we turn to something even darker. To despair. To nihilism. To a kind of profound atheism of the heart, that replaces God altogether with our own brand of survivalism and imploding fury.

It is precisely for such a time as this that God offers the gift of hope. Hope is not really needed for the easy times, the happy times. You know, in times when we are relatively prosperous, successful, comfortable, happy, we don't think too much about hope. We don't rely upon it because we're too busy relying on ourselves. We don't thank God for it because we're caught up in congratulating ourselves for making such a good life. When things are going along rather swimmingly, we forget to cling to hope as our only true lifeline. During those times when cheery optimism is enough, we forget that hope is something else all together.

The Bible tells a different story. Did you hear it in the passage from Lamentations that was read for us earlier? Lamentations is a book of mournful poems, expressions of grief after the destruction of Jerusalem by the horrible King Nebuchadnezzar. God's people had been violently exiled from their homeland. The city was demolished. The enemy had won. They were overcome with anguish and fear and loss, including the potential loss of confidence in God to save them.

It is from this desolation that the poet cries out: "My soul is bereft of peace and I have forgotten what happiness is. My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. God's mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness."

These are our words, people. This is now our experience. Hope becomes real for the times when we are bereft of peace, when we have forgotten what happiness is. Paul picks up this theme in the letter to the community in Rome. I want to re-read it now in another translation so you catch even more of its power: "we know that suffering is a source of endurance, endurance of character, and character of hope. Such hope is no fantasy. "

Strategists preparing a military operation talk about the importance of finding what they call "the center of gravity." By that they mean finding the central point on which an operation will succeed or fail. God is calling us in these days to find our true center of gravity, to find the central point at the heart of our soul, which will provide the measure of our success. Scripture is clear that the true center of gravity in God's people is to be hope. A hope strong enough, stubborn enough, unrealistic enough to ground us in the sure and certain knowledge that no matter what... no matter what... the darkness cannot overcome the light. Hope that no matter what, the powers of death cannot triumph over life itself. Hope that no matter what, God's will for the world is peace. Hope that no matter what, the power of God in Christ Jesus cannot be contained within any tomb. THIS hope is God's promised gift to us.

Since the attacks, each day the New York Times is filled with full-page ads of sympathy and condolences. One was sponsored by the American Bible Society. It said, in big letters: "What pierced our heart cannot crush our hope."

Our hearts have been broken and our minds rattled. Our nerves have been shaken and our sleep disturbed. We are jumpy, edgy, finding it hard to focus on our work. As a church, we will continue to provide handouts and Sentinel articles and speakers for you to help you recognize those symptomatic reactions in yourself and others and explore ways to heal.

Interestingly enough, at the same time, others are reacting to these recent events in another way. Psychologists have labeled this behavior "post-traumatic growth." Some people are seizing the moment and deciding that it's time to get at things they've always wanted to do. Suddenly it's time to make a reality of dreams they've been carrying in their hearts. Couples have decided to get married while others decide to give up dead-end relationships. People decide to go back to school or finish a degree. Some have quit jobs they hated to find a new one, spend more time with their kids, and doing things they enjoy. Some decide to consume less, or not to be so consumed by their own little problems. All these people are re-ordering all their priorities.

This is post-traumatic growth, and yes, for some, that has meant rediscovering God. For those of us who already had more than a passing acquaintance with God, may it mean that we decide to go deeper. To claim for ourselves the rich resources of our faith that were forged in the crucible of pain and suffering. To draw strength from the great cloud of witnesses that has gone before and witnesses now to hope everlasting. To make hope our center of gravity.

Then, we can say with Paul: "We boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. But not only that, we boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and this hope is no fantasy. Because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit."

Such hope is God's gift for us and now is the moment to grow into it and claim it. It will take us deeper in this journey of faith than perhaps we have ever gone. It will bring us closer to God than we have ever been. It will give us a kind of strength and freedom greater than we have heretofore known. With Job, we will hear God saying: "... you will have confidence because there is hope; you will be protected and take your rest in safety. You will lie down and none will make you afraid."

Thanks be to God.

© Patricia E. Farris, 2001. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.