“Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you. Before you were born, I dedicated you. I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
+
We are awash in words. Hundreds of thousands each day. So many words that they can all become just a dull hum.

Even sermons. Sometimes especially sermons.

We are awash in words. So many words that too often truly extraordinary words, words with the power to change our lives, blow right past us.

I invite you to close your eyes or do whatever you do that helps you focus and listen intently. Because I’m going to say some words we have already heard twice today. Words I’m not sure we really heard because they are so easily lost in the hum. Words that have the power to change our lives. And as you hear them, know that they are God’s word … to YOU. Ready?

Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you.
Before you were born, I dedicated you.

Do you know what these words mean?

You … You are chosen by God.
You … You are adored by God.

You always have been.
You always will be.

These words mean God’s choosing you, God’s loving you is not because of anything you have accomplished…

Not because of any degree or job you have.
Not because of any good you have done or wealth you have accumulated.

God chooses you, God loves you not because of your respectability or grace, your appearance or eloquence. Not because of how hard you can work, how much money you can give or even how much fun you are to be with.

God chose you. God loved you before any of that. God loved you before you were even a thought – and God will love you long after your body has passed into dust.

Hear that. Think about that. Really, really, really try to trust that.

Since before you even had an ear to hear and long after your breath has been stilled, every moment of every hour of every day of every year, God is holding you, gazing on you, smiling and singing like a mother to her infant child these three words:

I love you.

One of the many joys of working with Sally Howard is that I learn so much from her not just about the priesthood but about how the human mind and psyche work. And as a group of us were meeting earlier this week talking about these scriptures and how they intersect the life of this community, Sally reminded us that part of being human is that we need a secure identity to thrive and survive. And whatever our identity is rooted in is what we will cling to and defend. Whatever our identity is rooted in is therefore what we most fear to lose.

So, if our identity is rooted in something we can lose, we will do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen.

To the degree my identity, my sense of goodness and lovability, is rooted in everyone liking me or in maintaining a certain image from whatever respect is associated with being rector of All Saints Church, I will do everything I can to make sure everyone likes me or to protect that image and income.

That becomes my God.

And it’s not just us as individuals. Communities have identities, too.

To the degree our identity, our sense of goodness and lovability as All Saints Church, is rooted in people liking and speaking well of us or in an image we are able to project to ourselves and others, we will do everything we can as a community to protect that.

And that comes our God.

That is nothing unique to me or you or All Saints Church … that’s simply how all of us are wired as human beings.

And … it raises the crucial question for each and for all of us.

In what, in who is our identity rooted?

What do we value? What will we defend over all else? What will we cling to as if our life depends on it … because in a very real way, we believe it does.

If our identity is rooted in anything that can be taken away, we will always live and act in fear of that happening. There will always be limits to what we can do and who we can be.

And that’s a problem for us, because remember all those words? We get thousands of messages a day trying to tell us our identity is rooted in things that can be taken away – in how we look or how hard we work, or how many likes we get on Facebook or any number of things we have to work to maintain or that might even be beyond our control. And whatever those things are, they become our God. Because our sense of goodness and lovability, our identity is like oxygen, and when it starts to slip away, fear kicks in and we will do anything to preserve it.

And … if our identity is rooted in what can never be taken away, then … we … can … be … free!

If our identity is securely rooted in what can never be taken away, there are absolutely no limits to what we can do and who we can be.

God is whispering in your ear, in our ear every moment of every hour of every day of our lives.

Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you.
Before you were born, I dedicated you.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

And I am never. Never. Ever. Going to stop.

Now, God says these words to Jeremiah and to us as reminder and as prelude. You see, God was calling Jeremiah to do something extraordinary. God was calling Jeremiah to risk everything … to step out and proclaim truths of love and justice that the world in its fear would not want to hear and would react violently against.

And God knew that if Jeremiah was to do this. If Jeremiah’s life was to be extraordinary and free … Jeremiah needed truly to hear and trust that his identity, his goodness, his lovability was rooted in the only thing that could never be taken away.

And so before God called Jeremiah, God said:

Hey … Psst .. Jeremiah …
Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you.
Before you were born, I dedicated you.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

And these words are so hard to believe. And Jeremiah hesitated at first. “It can’t be me, God! I can’t speak. I’m too young!”

But God, infinitely patient said, my beloved child. Listen again:

You are worthy, you are capable, you are good enough and more just as you are. And all you need to do is trust in these three words:

I love you.

And then something incredible happened … Jeremiah trusted. And Jeremiah let himself be sent out into communities of other people God loved desperately … to proclaim and receive words of hope and power, justice and love.

Jeremiah trusted that God has always and will always love him, and that identity as beloved of God gave him the courage to love in extraordinary ways.

It is not easy. I know I am so tempted to believe my identity, my goodness and lovability are rooted in how others see me, how likeable I am, my ability to please people and keep them happy and a million other things.

I deeply need to remember that the love of God is all I ever need and that I will never lose it. I forget it so often that I continually have to remind myself. I continually have to stop, a hundred times a day and remind myself, “God you love me. You have always loved me. And no matter what happens in this meeting, in this conversation or in preaching this sermon you’re still gonna love me when it’s over. God, just help me remember your love and let it give me the courage I need to hear and speak and act on your truth in love.”

And each time I remember. I’m a little more free.
Each time I remember, I open the door a little more for amazing things to happen.

Now Jeremiah, he jumped right in. He trusted in that perfect love that casted out fear, and that identity as beloved of God gave him the courage to let God make his life extraordinary.

We hear a different reaction to that love in the Gospel readings from last Sunday and this.

Jesus is at his home synagogue in Nazareth and he is giving the people there the same message. That their lives can be extraordinary. That God adores them and is giving them a Word through Jesus that is a word of love and transformation that is not just for themselves but for them to take out to the margins, the oppressed, to all who were cast out and considered unclean. God was inviting them to trust so deeply in God’s love that they would be willing to risk everything else to spread that love. A love that casts out fear. A life that has no limits.

But the synagogue at Nazareth did not have their identity, their sense of goodness and lovability rooted in God’s eternal love. I don’t know what it was rooted in, but it sure wasn’t God’s love.

Maybe it was rooted in the ability of their leaders to preach incredible sermons … which is why they marveled and took pride in the eloquence of Jesus’ words.

Maybe it was rooted in a sense of exceptionalism … of being better than all the other synagogues … and that’s why they hoped Jesus would burnish that reputation.

Whatever it was, the synagogue did not believe they were worthy, capable, good enough and more just as they were. Their identity was rooted in something they were deeply afraid to lose.

Because they had a very different answer than Jeremiah to God’s call.

They got angry. I mean, they got ANGRY. They got let’s drag Jesus out of town and try to throw him off a cliff angry. The kind of anger that made a preacher glad to be in the relatively flat Midwest for most of the past 20 years.

Now, anger is a secondary emotion. If you dive deeper into anger, you will always find sadness, fear or both.

The reaction of the people in the synagogue was so deeply human. I mean, it was textbook humanity. Jesus challenged their identity and security … and they were sad and terrified. And they reacted in anger not because they were bad people, but because they could not bring themselves to trust that they didn’t need to look anywhere else for their identity, goodness and lovability than the promise of the eternal love of God.

It’s nothing new. We’ve seen it over and over and over again.

The reaction of the synagogue is why Bull Conner turned fire hoses on children in Alabama and why Nora Phillips and her lawyers from Al Otro Lado are being prohibited from getting to their clients in Mexico and sometimes it is us. It is us whenever our identity is rooted in superiority and exceptionalism or anything else that can be taken away, because we are human and we will react with anger rooted in fear to defend that lie that our goodness and lovability is rooted in anything else than the love of God.

And we’ve seen the other side, too. We’ve seen it right here.

All Saints Church has an extraordinary past and an incredible present not because we are any better than anyone else. The greatness of this and any community lies in those times throughout the years we have been able to trust in that love. And when that has happened … when we have believed in God’s love for ourselves – when we have believed in it more than all the things we are and have that can be taken away, we have been able to go to places the world called unclean and proclaim and receive God’s love in ways that have been nothing short of transformative.

And more than anything, that is the road that is always before us. Because that love that is for us, God’s inclusive love … it never rests. Love abides and pushes forward and outward.

And so, every moment of every day of every year of our lives, we ask ourselves the question. Individually and as a community of faith.

Will I, will you, will we be Jeremiah or the synagogue?

Will I, will you, will we live in fear of losing what we have, or how we are seen or live extraordinary lives of freedom, justice and love that take us to the ragged edges of creation to meet and bear God’s love in ways we never could have imagined.

Will I, will you, will we every moment of every hour of every year of our lives strain to hear and trust the words God whispers in our ear. Words God longs for us to hear and believe:

Before I formed you in the womb, I chose you.
Before you were born, I dedicated you.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.