|
“God Is Our Fortress”
“The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2
As we make our way through Lent, the weather continues its ups and downs. Cold days then warm days then cold days again; a nightmare for the sinuses. We find ourselves in the “in between.” The cold days reminding us of the withering plants and barren landscapes that winter brings and the warm ones, calling forth the beauty of spring. For those who are winter weary and desperate for spring, it can be an emotional rollercoaster, much like life in general. One moment there is joy, the next, sorrow. One week everything seems to be in order, the check list full of scribbled out goals, and the next, the few scribbled items add insult to the injury of so many things left undone. There were unexpected interruptions and diversions! Life happened and plans changed, everything feels out of order.
In truth, life is a long journey of ups and downs, joys and sorrows, calm seas and raging waters, crosses and empty tombs, death and resurrection. These ups and downs can leave us anxious and fearful, even when our hearts hold joy. This is the reason there is so much language in our scriptures about God being our rock and our fortress. And this is the reason so many churches are built of brick and stone and why so many of the world’s most magnificent churches were built on such a grand scale. As if to say: “Here is God’s church, a mighty fortress; a towering stone bulwark never failing. It is immovable!”
Writing about the church as a fortress reminds me of watching the Cathedral of Notre Dame burn. I had the great privilege of visiting Notre Dame while in college and the memories of that majestic place came flooding back in as I watched the horrific scene. It was devastating; a fortress no more. The church caught fire on April 15, 2019, the day after Palm Sunday. The event made it into my Easter sunrise sermon the following Sunday. It was a poignant example of the ups and downs of life which Holy Week captures in miniature. The triumphant joy of Palm Sunday. The heart wrenching beauty of the Last Supper and Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. And Good Friday, the cross, Jesus’ screams of forsakenness. And, of course, the empty tomb. What a week! I am guessing the disciples marked nothing off their lists.
Notre Dame is now rebuilt, a fortress again. I have heard that there is a new brightness inside. All the many years of smoke and soot have been cleaned off. Brightness is nice, especially in the sun-starved days of winter but, honestly, this makes me sad. The dimness deepened its holiness, making God’s mystery palpable. All the many years of candles being lit and the accompanying prayers literally coated the walls. The walls of that church held the ups and downs of thousands and thousands of people.
Those prayers created a holy dimness that somehow made God’s presence clearer. And that is something worth considering as we wrestle with and the ups and downs of our lives. That somehow both joy and sorrow are holy and together rise like smoke to our God. Our God, who will always remain a mystery, until the dimness of our earthly eyes is gone and we take our place at the kingdom table, set with God’s radiant love.
Somehow the dimness is holy, made so by prayers of joy and sorrow. I suppose this mystery is part of the resurrection promise we stand on, our solid rock amidst the sinking sand of our lives. The promise that death has been defeated and all things are being redeemed. That our sorrows are turned to joy by God, who is our fortress, a bulwark never failing. And we are, therefore, empowered by God’s gracious love to walk with enduring hope into the holy dimness.
Grace and Peace,
Will
| 
