Lake Edge United Church of Christ

Almost certainly it was desperation that drove Jarius to Jesus, his little daughter at the doorstep of death. And almost certainly it was desperation that drove the unnamed woman to seek simply to touch his clothes, eighteen years of suffering will make anyone desperate. Neither of these folks had anything to lose, they’d tried many things, maybe even everything, and in their desperation, they were willing to cast themselves at the feet a wandering healer with a growing reputation.
Desperation surely drove them, but not desperation solely, for they approached not just anyone, but rather Jesus, who was gaining in reputation and in stature. We are still early in the gospel of Mark, but Jesus has already worked wonders in the presence of the people. He has commanded the demons, and they have obeyed him, with good people set free to be in charge of their own lives once more. He has spoken, in short, declarative sentences, stating clearly that the reign of God is breaking into human life, that honest repentance now brings legitimate forgiveness. He has healed, reaching past the barriers of physical illness and social taboo to bring the lepers back into the fold of the people. Jarius and the unnamed woman have heard of these things, perhaps they have even witnessed them with their own eyes. And so, even if they are in desperate circumstances, they have not cast their hopes randomly on the first passerby. No, desperate though they may feel themselves to be, they are also wise. They have chosen to reach toward one who has the power to give them what they most need. They are desperate, but they are also faithful. “My little daughter,” Jarius says to Jesus, “is at the point of death, come and lay your hands on her that she may be made well.” Faithful words, expectant words. “If I can just touch his clothes,” the unknown woman says, “I will be made well.” Faithful words, expectant words. They may feel desperate and needy, but they are also hopeful, faithful, expectant.
The great twentieth century theologian Paul Tillich gave us a word to describe these moments in time when desperation and expectation come together. He chose the Greek word, kairos, to explain these unique moments in time. It will help us to contrast kairos with another Greek word, chronos. Chronos is time as measured by clock and calendar. Chronos marches on, each passing moment precisely as long as the one before it and the one after it. Chronos is the inexorable trudge of seconds and minutes and hours and days. We all live in chronos, of course. If it is 11:00 now, we know that in precisely sixty minutes it will be noon, and nothing can change that. If today is Sunday tomorrow will be Monday, regardless of whether we like it or not. In six more months we’ll learn to write 2010 on our checks because chronos will have marched us into that new year heedless of our feelings.
In contrast, however, kairos measures time not in seconds or minutes or hours or days, but rather in what Tillich called “fullness.” In moments of kairos, everything changes. What has come before is changed into something new. What is true now is wholly different from all that has gone before. Times of kairos, when the meaning of everything is changing, may last a moment or a generation. Kairos happens when our human longing and our divine expectation come together and God transforms what has been into something new. This is what Jesus meant when he said that the reign of God was at hand. He was pointing to the possibilities of kairos, that our needs might be met, our expectations fulfilled by the transforming power of God.
When Jesus found his way to Jarius’ house, it was a moment of kairos. Chronos was marching on, ready to carry the little girl into death. But longing and expectation were met by the healing power of God, and she got up, and ate.
When the woman worked her way through the crowd and touched the cloak of Jesus, it was a moment of kairos. Chronos was marching on, condemning her to another eighteen years of pain and suffering. But her longing and expectation were met by the healing power of God, and Jesus told her truly that her faith had made her well.
Kairos is the fullness of time in which our deepest longings and our highest hopes are met by the in-breaking presence of God. Kairos is the fullness of time in which what has been is changed into what can be. Kairos is the fullness of time in which God’s will is done on earth, even as it is in heaven.
Moments of kairos are not confined to the pages of scripture, for God’s work in the world did not end 2000 years ago. When Rosa Parks refused to stand and yield her seat on the bus to a white man, it was kairos. The deep longings of all freedom loving people came together with their highest hopes and encountered the Spirit of God. And in a moment of kairos that lasted a generation, hundreds of years of legalized oppression were wiped away. When our own Margaret Trost was moved in her hour of grief and loss to go to Haiti, a moment of kairos was ignited as the deepest needs of hungry children came together with her highest hopes for meaningful, loving service and met Spirit of God. And in a moment of kairos, a vacant field became a soup kitchen, and thousands of empty bellies were filled again and again.
Today, as I stand before you preaching for the final time as your Senior Pastor, I declare to you as clearly as I can, from a heart and soul filled to the brim with passion and hope and love, that even now Lake Edge United Church of Christ is in a moment of kairos. The times are full. Our deepest longings are coming together with our highest hopes, and the Spirit of God is moving to meet us, and nothing is as it was, and our congregational life together is being transformed before our very eyes. Lake Edge has a long and honorable and inspiring history of vital worship and service. My calling here to be your pastor has served to draw attention to the very real fact that our present was not as full, not as rich. My work here has been aimed at helping to bring to the surface the deep longings of the congregation to be an ever more vital community of witness and service. We are spiritually hungry people, desiring more than we have, longing for a vitality that many can remember, few were now feeling.
Our deepest longings to be a new and challenging and transforming presence in the city of Madison are coming together with our highest hopes. We are daring once more to believe that God is truly still speaking, not in whispers that are difficult to hear, not in incomprehensible mumbles, but in clear tones that rouse our hearts to aspire to become the best that we know how to be: a community of openness and affirmation, a community of generous givers and faithful makers of justice, a community of learning and of growth, a community of compassion and caring.
And our deepest longings and our highest hopes are being met faithfully by the in-breaking Spirit of God who is making it possible for us to honor what has been even as we become something new. We are being met by the Spirit of God who is making it possible for us to celebrate the lives and loves of each member of our congregation, and to join with one another in laughter when one is laughing and in tears when one is weeping. We are being met by the Spirit of God who is calling forth new lay leaders and new visions from longtime leaders and we are taking increasing responsibility for being honest and forthright in facing our challenges.
I know that for many of you and that in some ways for me, this day feels like a setback. My departure feels like an ending. It is that, but it is not only that. For this moment of kairos, this opportunity for transformation did not begin with me. Your deepest longings, your highest hopes, and the good Spirit of God were present before I arrived. And while I have done my best to help to name these longings, these hopes, and done my best to point out the Spirit of God as she breaks into our present, the great truth is that your deepest longings to transform this troubled world, and your highest hopes for a church filled with love and courage and grace and peace, and the good Spirit of God will be flowing together long after I have gone, in the confluence of a time of kairos that will not end until God’s will is done, on earth as it is in heaven. I did not bring the kairos; I cannot take it with me. The time is and will remain full at Lake Edge, full of deep longings, high hopes, and a soaring faith in God who still speaks.
I leave from this congregation to go to serve another, and as I go I take with me the inspiring hope that I have seen here among you, for you have strengthened my faith in the transforming power of God’s love. You are and will always be in my heart.
I must go, but you remain, and in your moment of kairos, I charge you to kind in heart and humble in mind. Be open to one another. Affirm one another. Be as mindful of sisters and brothers who are not yet with you as you are of one another. And above all, be truly loving, that your deep longings and high, high hopes might be met by the transforming love of the Spirit of God, who even now is breaking into your individual lives and your common life together with new possibilities for healing, for hope, and for peace. Amen.