Welcome/Call to Worship
Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley Dargai. To those here in the chapel and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here!
And welcome back to this place.
This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing.
A couple of announcements before we begin:
Logistical concerns: how we worship in here will be like how we worshiped in the Heritage Chapel. Masks, communion, offerings—it will all be the same. If you need you use the restroom, we ask that you use the ones by the kitchen. The rooms, bathrooms, and hallway behind the sanctuary are blocked off due to safety concerns that are being addressed.
If you missed a Sunday and want to catch up on the worship series, you can listen to our church’s podcast wherever you get your podcasts. A new episode of Music Monday dropped this week, an extra to our worship series where we talk about the intersection of music and theology at Azle Christian Church.
Next week on the last Sunday of September, we will have Dedication Sunday for our building.
This coming Saturday is Food Hub! You can sign-up to serve at Food Hub on the entry table or online.
September 29 is our first Gospels and Groceries event. We’ll host an outdoors hymn sing and collect food for our Little Free pantry. DMM is making food.
We continue our new series this morning: Homecoming: Stories of Return. Today, we return home with Jacob after a tumultuous journey.
Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.
Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.
Let us prepare our hearts for worship.
Litany of Faith
One: When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.
All: Our mouths were suddenly filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.
One: Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”
All: Yes, the Lord has done great things for us, and we are glad indeed.
One: Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like dry streams in the desert waste!
All: Let those who plant with tears reap the harvest with songs of joy.
One: Let those who go out, crying and carrying their seed, come home.
All: Come home with joyful shouts, carrying bales of grain.
(Psalm 126)
Pastoral Prayer
The Lord be with you.
We grieve together the death passing of Dannie Davis, who was laid to rest yesterday.
Today, I would like to read a prayer written by Chris Piercy, prayed on the occasion of our prayer walk through the building a few weeks ago. I’ve changed a word or two for the sake of today, but otherwise, these are his words, to God, on behalf of all of us. Join me in prayer:
Holy One, as we see parts of our building still in disarray, we can empathize.
Over this past year, we have been broken. We have been in disarray, too.
But we feel your Spirit with us, even in our brokenness, even in this church that has suffered.
Thank you for the homeless man who notified the city that water was flowing out of the church, flooding the building.
Thank you for the construction workers, diligently working to make all the repairs to our church.
Thank you, God, for our church members for continuing to be the rock, stable and loyal to the work of this church.
We have looked forward, O God, to the time that we can gather again in this sanctuary together. And today is that day!
While the church isn’t exactly the same as it was before, neither are we. We are changed.
Too much has happened to us all to not be changed.
But we are together, and You, O God, are with us still.
And so, together, in this place, we return to the prayer Jesus gave us to pray:
Our Father, who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen.
Sermon
Genesis 32:3-12; 33:1-12
3 Jacob sent messengers before him to his brother Esau in the land of Seir, the country of Edom, 4 instructing them, “Thus you shall say to my lord Esau: Thus says your servant Jacob, ‘I have lived with Laban, and stayed until now; 5 and I have oxen, donkeys, flocks, male and female slaves; and I have sent to tell my lord, in order that I may find favor in your sight.’”
6 The messengers returned to Jacob, saying, “We came to your brother Esau, and he is coming to meet you, and four hundred men are with him.” 7 Then Jacob was greatly afraid and distressed; and he divided the people that were with him, and the flocks and herds and camels, into two companies, 8 thinking, “If Esau comes to the one company and destroys it, then the company that is left will escape.”
9 And Jacob said, “O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O Lord who said to me, ‘Return to your country and to your kindred, and I will do you good,’ 10 I am not worthy of the least of all the steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant, for with only my staff I crossed this Jordan; and now I have become two companies. 11 Deliver me, please, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I am afraid of him; he may come and kill us all, the mothers with the children. 12 Yet you have said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be counted because of their number.’”
Now Jacob looked up and saw Esau coming, and four hundred men with him. So he divided the children among Leah and Rachel and the two maids. 2 He put the maids with their children in front, then Leah with her children, and Rachel and Joseph last of all. 3 He himself went on ahead of them, bowing himself to the ground seven times, until he came near his brother.
4 But Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept. 5 When Esau looked up and saw the women and children, he said, “Who are these with you?” Jacob said, “The children whom God has graciously given your servant.” 6 Then the maids drew near, they and their children, and bowed down; 7 Leah likewise and her children drew near and bowed down; and finally Joseph and Rachel drew near, and they bowed down. 8 Esau said, “What do you mean by all this company that I met?” Jacob answered, “To find favor with my lord.”
9 But Esau said, “I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself.” 10 Jacob said, “No, please; if I find favor with you, then accept my present from my hand; for truly to see your face is like seeing the face of God—since you have received me with such favor. 11 Please accept my gift that is brought to you, because God has dealt graciously with me, and because I have everything I want.” So he urged him, and he took it.
12 Then Esau said, “Let us journey on our way, and I will go alongside you.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
What does God look like?
I asked this question on Facebook this week, and man, oh man, the responses were incredible.
Some people see God as portrayed by authoritative actors: Morgan Freeman of Bruce Almighty. Octavia Spencer in The Shack. James Earl Jones in general. Perhaps Tefiti from Moana.
Others see God as a person, a parental figure: a mother who feeds us and gathers us under her wing, a father who holds our hand and pulls up out of the dirt. Someone with kind eyes and soft voice. A friend, the face of understanding.
Others gave the Sunday School answer: Jesus. I mean, they’re not wrong, I suppose.
Others looked to scripture for help: fire, the least of these, brilliant colors from depictions in Revelation.
Many said something along the lines of you and me. Us. When we’re at our best. In our diversity. Creation as a whole. When people learn to be more themselves, they give us a gift by showing us some more of what God is like.
Others drew on metaphors: a broken mirror that reflects us all and when put together, a more complete picture of God; water—a prolific element that takes on many forms and of which we are made; energy—the animating force of life; or sunlight—a powerful and energizing and also terrifying life force, not needing to be seen or felt to know that it is there making our world go round. A circle—never ending, utterly connected.
Others quoted artistic musings on the Divine, like the quote from Les Mis: “To love another person is to see the face of God.” Or the 90s song: “What if God were one of us? Just a slob like one of us?”
And aside from really meaningful ways of thinking God, what I appreciated about people’s answers is that they gave me insight into the responders. Some people see God as someone, a person who holds their hand. Has a face. Can give a hug.
And others see God as the underpinnings of creation, a more metaphysical and abstract idea, something that is not a person, but is at the same time, somehow, personal.
Others find it helpful to use metaphors of stories. God is like this…God is like that… To have a point of reference or an image that you know is not God but makes you think of God.
That’s not to say that every rendering of God is equally valid. We will not be covering millennia of theology in the next few minutes—don’t worry.
But the point about diversity was apt. That if we are all made in the image of God, then somehow, the images we reflect, in their diversity and vastness, give the world a different way of thinking about God.
We began this Homecoming series with the parable of the Prodigal Son. The son had left home and found himself in dire straits, and so he decided to return home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father ran to him and embraced him and kissed him and threw him a party. We considered how even though most of us knew this story of the prodigal son, that this was actually the story about a man who had two sons. And this story about a man who had two sons had been played out many times in scripture: Papa Adam with his sons, Cain and Abel; Father Abraham, with his sons, Isaac and Ishmael; and dear old dad, Isaac, with his two sons, Jacob and Esau. But in the story of the prodigal son, in that particular story of a man who had two sons, the broken story was mended. The father finally got it right. The family reunited. It wasn’t a perfect or easy fix, but the healing got to begin, thanks be to God.
And while that reunion was about a man who had two sons, today’s reunion is not about the father at all, but rather the sons. The reunion we read of today has very similar language of the prodigal son reunion: running, hugging, kissing. What Jacob thought might end in bloodshed, ended instead, in an embrace.
But before we get to the reunion, we should go over the part of the story that we skipped in our reading today. Though it doesn’t involve Esau, it’s essential to what happens with Esau. In between hearing that Esau was coming with 400 men—yikes by the way—and Esau actually arriving, Jacob spends a night alone under the stars. And while he is sleeping, someone attacks him and begins a wrestling match. It is never truly clear who it is—a person, a messenger, an angel, God’s own self. We’ll never know. In response to the question, “What does God look like?” Jacob might have written “surprise midnight attacker.”
They wrestle all night, even though the one who initiated the struggle asks to be let go. But Jacob is a relentless opportunist when it comes to blessings, and this is quite possibly the most frightening night of his life, so he says, “Not until you bless me.” So the person asks his name, and then gives him a new name: Israel, for he wrestled with God and came out on the other side of it. And Jacob, injured from the fight, walked with a limp for the rest of his life. And he names the place of struggle Peniel, which means the face of God, for he believed at that place, in the struggle, he saw the face of God.
This is one of the most mysterious stories in the Bible, but it is only a part of our story today.
Because today’s story is about Jacob and Esau.
If you remember, Jacob and Esau were twins, but Esau was the older one, so he was the one in line to receive the big inheritance, the blessing, from his father. But Jacob, taking advantage of Esau one day, swindled him out of his blessing, tricking Esau in a way only Jacob knows how to. And then as their father Isaac was nearing death, Jacob conspired with his mom to dress up like Esau, and trick his father into giving him what was not his.
When he had received the blessing meant for his brother, Jacob ran. Esau was murderous with rage toward Jacob. And he was also distraught at being robbed of his future, of the gift his father had always intended for him.
For a blessing was not simply a wish for well-being or a nice prayer—blessings had material, tangible, life-altering consequences. With the blessing, came money, property, authority. And now Esau had none of that. He would have to build his life differently, his sense of place in the family and community irrevocably changed.
In a heartbreaking scene, Esau begs his father: “Is there any blessing left for me?”
Jacob had pulled the rug out from underneath him, destabilizing his life and leaving him to bury first his father and then his mother, alone.
And while Jacob had been on the run for the past 20 years, he had not learned his lesson in honesty. We read that he was leaving his Uncle Laban’s place, and the reason he was leaving was that he had swindled Laban out of goods. Now, Laban was a trickster himself, so perhaps it was not all Jacob’s fault, but nevertheless, he cannot stay and so he hits the road. We learn in his prayer to God that God had told him to return, that good would come from it.
Jacob is dubious about this call from God, but he does head home. And he’s right to be afraid to return home. He is right to fight back when someone attacks him in the middle of the night for it could be any number of people taking their chance at revenge. It could be Laban or Esau or some other wronged party for all he knows.
But after his encounter with the person in the middle of the night, after hearing that his brother was on the way with an army, Jacob arranges his family for safety and gets boat load of gifts ready to go. He is prepared to trade his livelihood for his life.
But there’s no need. Before Jacob can squeak out an “I’m sorry,” he’s engulfed in a bear hug, his shoulder soaked by his brother’s tears. Jacob offers him his gifts, Esau waves them off. And Jacob says, “Seeing your face is like seeing the face of God.” And the end of our text is a benediction of sorts: “Then Esau said, “Let us journey on our way, and I will go alongside you.” It’s as if the song Nicole just sang was written for this moment: “Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you.”
Jacob and Esau reconcile, in a beautiful turn of events. Jacob, not having changed much since their last encounter, finds Esau transformed, that Esau extends mercy in a way that God only can. They presumably share a meal together, swapping stories, catching up on all that has transpired.
Later on in their story, they will part ways due to a difference of opinion, but this time, on good terms. Reconciliation does not always mean a close relationship, but it does mean mended relationships, repair, confronting the rupture instead of ignoring it. Perhaps for Jacob, healing was in the return, not in not getting lost in the first place.
And I wonder, if to Jacob, God looked like a ruddy, hairy, burly man who was generous with his feelings and smelled like the sun. A few hours before, God had looked like a surprise midnight attacker, but now? God looks like Jacob’s brother.
And we realize in this story of return that the life Jacob lived with God and the life Jacob lived with his brother were two sides of the same coin.
And as we return today, to our building, to this sanctuary, to a place that is at once the same and different than when we last gathered here together, perhaps there is apprehension. Maybe we are not sure what we are returning to. We are filled with hopes. With fears. With doubt that we heard God’s call right. With sleepless nights. With loneliness. With apprehension. We’re tired of constantly pivoting and being in flux.
And yet. What we find in this moment is that God does not seem to discriminate. The face of God finds us in the midnight attack and in the embrace of our brother, and often those two occurrences are wrapped up in each other.
There may be things that we are not expecting as we reenter this place. There may be unresolved pain. There may be things we have done or left undone. There may be people who did not make it to this moment of return. But what we can expect as we come home, is that we will see the face of God. And we need only to turn to the person next to us, across from us, to see what God looks like.
Amen.
Table Meditation
I invite you to turn to #355 in your hymnals. Don’t worry, I will not be leading us in song.
When Jacob returned home, I imagine that alongside Esau, a flood of memories met him. Reminders of who he was. And not just who he had become, but who he was all those years ago when he ran away. Who he was when he and Esau played as young boys. And while those times were gone, and he was changed, and Esau had changed, he was still returning to who he was, to his identity as brother, as sibling, as part of a family.
And so we, too, return to our preamble, an affirmation of our identity as Azle Christian Church, a Disciples of Christ congregation. We are not the same people we were when we last left this sanctuary, and we’re certainly not the same people we were when we entered it for the very first time. So much has changed. But we can return to these affirmations of what we hold dearest, things that have remained steadfast over the decades: of who we are, together.
You can follow along with me as I read it. (Read Disciples Affirmation)
I’m going to pray for the bread and cup now so that we may eat them together during the Words of Institution.
Join me in prayer:
Gracious and Generous Host, Jesus. We give thanks for this table, for the ritual of bread and cup, for the words of our faith forebears: the ones we find in scripture, the ones we find in this hymnal, the ones we pass along to each other in the hallway. We trust that in each other, in this bread, and in this cup, we encounter you, someway, somehow. In Christ’s name we ask it, amen.
Words of Institution:
It is with this hope that we tell the story each week that on the night he was betrayed, Jesus broke the bread and said, “This is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
And then he took the cup also and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Drink it in remembrance of me.
For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” All are welcome at the Table of Christ.
Sharing Our Resources
There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church: Venmo, giving online, giving box, offering plate.
The deacons are going to hand these plates over during our final song, starting at the front row and they just to need make their way to the back where a deacon will collect them.
Invitation
If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk to me after service or sometime this week.
Benediction
Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.
Our benediction this morning comes from the letter to the Ephesians:
May Christ’s living spirit, whose light guides us and ignites our bones, whose great love brings us home, help us to remember that even we’re lost, we can still be found, for we are children of God, whose own heart is our home.
Amen.