"God of Lightning"

   I hate camping. There, I said it. I just really do. Maybe I’m too much of a technology nut. Maybe I’m just too attached to my MacBook and my high speed internet and my 90 channels of mindless televised drivel. I’d like to claim that I didn’t have a good teacher, but as I’ve mentioned before, I did have 4 years of Boy Scouts to train me. Perhaps I’ve just had too many bad experiences with camping. As a child, my family would go camping with friends from church, and every year it seemed like we were either baking 110 degree heat, or slogging through a muddy mess.

   And then, of course, there was that year at Boy Scout camp. 1993, I believe it was. Camp Manatoc. The summer camp from hell. Oh it started out well enough. But a few days into the camp, things went downhill. The rinse cycle on the dishwasher in the mess hall broke down, but no body knew it had broken down. So the entire camp had an entire dinner cooked and eaten off of dishes covered in soap. That resulted in over 1,000 boys waking up in the middle of the night to a horrific case of dysentery.

   But it got better. A few days later, we had The Storm. We knew it was coming. Our troop was well briefed on what we should do. The assistant scoutmasters would come around to our tents and wake us up. And then we would have to march over half a mile to the first aid station and the nearest underground shelter. I was well prepared. I went to bed in not only my clothes, but also my poncho. My boots were prepared on the floor next to me. My flashlight was at my side. And when the bells finally rang and we sprinted out of our tents, I was in much better shape than many of the boys stumbling out in pajamas and bare feet.

   And yet I still couldn’t be fully prepared for the fury unleashed upon us by that storm. The road to the first aid station was like wading through a small river. My poncho did almost no good, as the wind whipped up and around in every direction. We found out later that a tornado did in fact touch down about 5 miles from the camp. But maybe most shocking of all was the lightning. The perpetual, blinding lightning. The lightning that made my flashlight completely unnecessary. The lightning that created a deafening roar of thunder from every direction. The world was lit up in a heavenly strobe light, and I was left exposed, at its mercy.

   Lightning is one of those natural disasters that most people have one of two reactions towards. They fear it intensely, becoming mere children in its presence, protecting themselves from it at all costs. Or, they ignore it. They sit in denial over its power. Its threat. They stay on the golf course. They continue gardening. They harden themselves to it, until the very real danger it poses simply disappears from their minds.

   Very few people think of lightning as a helpful thing. I didn’t think it was helpful as I ran down that gravel path 14 years ago. I didn’t think about the fact that it was providing far more light than my flashlight could have ever provided. That I never once stumbled on the path, because that lightning lit up the world so bright that I could see every branch fall in front of me.

   Throughout much of Isaiah, the prophet describes a God of lightning. The passages are vivid and terrifying. Isaiah 5 says, “And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed, and briers and thorns shall grow up; I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it.” This is His vineyard. His nation. His people. And yet, they have opposed him, so he will strike them down.

   If that’s what God does to his friends, you can imagine what he does to his enemies. God addresses the nation of Babylon in Isaiah 13 and says, “Behold, the day of the LORD comes, cruel, with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation and to destroy its sinners from it. For the stars of the heavens and their constellations will not give their light; the sun will be dark at its rising, and the moon will not shed its light. I will punish the world for its evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; I will put an end to the pomp of the arrogant, and lay low the pompous pride of the ruthless.” You don’t get in God’s way. Friend who has betrayed him, or foe who has opposed him. You stand in the storm of his wrath, and you will get struck down.

   And yet, for all the fire and brimstone, God’s tone changes partway through Isaiah. More and more compassion is shown for those who have suffered. More and more promises are made about God’s coming Savior. And by the time we get to chapter 42, and the description of Christ, we have these words of sheer love, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his law.”

   God is not only a God of wrath. In fact, Martin Luther called God’s judgment of sinners his “alien work.” His improper work. He does it because he has to, but its not really in his job description. Its not really what he wants to be doing. It is alien to him. His proper work, the thing he wants most of all, is to love and to save. To show mercy and forgiveness and compassion. And so, in Christ, we see God doing what he wants most: reaching out to his lost people.

   This is a concept that many of us know. Its good to hear, but many of us have been hearing it for our entire lives. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” And yet, there’s a world out there that doesn’t see God in this way. They see the God of lightning. And like lightning, they react in those same two different ways. They fear him, even hate him, for his power. For allowing death to come to this planet. For bringing sickness and disease upon us, when we had a perfect garden in Eden once. For revealing a harsh, impossible law that no one can obey, and yet by which all are judged. They see the lightning, and they run from him.

   Or, they ignore him. Flaunt their sinfulness. Test God’s wrath. “I can have sex outside of marriage. God doesn’t really care that much.” “I can cheat on my taxes. My employer. My wife. God’s up there. I’m down here.” “This grudge I’m holding against my neighbor is my problem. If I want to forgive him or hate him is my concern.” And so they dance in the storm. The wait until the day when God does that alien work, and condemns them to hell for all eternity.

   And yet, there is a third way in which they can see God. “I will give you as a covenant for the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.” A light to the nations. God’s awesome power displayed not in a terrible show of lightning and destruction, but in his power to transform our lives. God’s love displayed in the bruised reeds that we do not break, the faintly burning wicks that we do not quench. The lives around us in need of mercy, both human and divine. The lives in the midst of a storm that need a light to their path. For while Isaiah’s prophecy of the Lord’s chosen servant may have been speaking directly about Christ, it was also speaking of each and every one of us as we are baptized into Christ and his church.

   After the storm that night at Camp Manatoc, the camp gathered together in the Mess Hall – yes, that Mess Hall – until we were sure that the campsites were safe. Under the warm lights of the wrought iron chandeliers, we dried off, sang songs, talked and laughed. The storm had vanished from both the sky and our thoughts. Interesting, isn’t it? The electricity that slashes through the sky, terrifying and threatening us, is the same electricity that lights our homes and comforts us in the darkness. The God who judges us with fire and with wrath is the same God who guides us with the light of his Word and the comfort of his forgiveness. Its no one wonder that the dark world around us doesn’t understand why we’re here this morning. Doesn’t understand what this God has done for them. But then again, that’s exactly why God put us here, isn’t it? Amen.