Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

Today’s texts: Revelation 12:7-12, Psalm 103, Luke 10:17-20

Dear Friends in Christ, God’s grace and peace be with you. Amen.

William Kamkwamba[i] is known as The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind[ii].  That’s the title of the memoir and documentary that describe the seemingly impossible way he used scraps from a junkyard to build a windmill, supplying electricity to his home, and ultimately his entire village.

William grew up in an extremely isolated area of Malawi, far from power sources and modern farming practices. His family were traders and maize farmers, using the hand tools that had sustained their community for generations. That worked until extreme drought and famine hit his community in the early 2000s, devastating William’s village and family,and much of rural southern Africa.

Though he and his family are active in their Presbyterian church, William also holds ideas that feel superstitious or fantastic to us, using descriptions of magic and strong forces that can sweep across a forest with danger or protection. His childhood was haunted by the destructive power of wind, storm, and wild animals, forces that even his strong father couldn’t defeat.

He also loved to tinker – marveling over lamps generated by bicycle pedals, allowing people to travel past dusk. He wrapped together several old spent batteries, siphoning enough of their remaining juice to power his old radios. He took apart those radios to see how their boards were connected to transmit sound. He dissected discarded electronic devices to salvage materials to power simple tools. With only an elementary school education, he scavenged the tiny library in town for books that described simple mechanics and learned to fabricate his own machines. His engineering genius far exceeded his academic achievements, and before he was 15, his pieced-together windmill contraption brought electricity into his family’s home, as if by a magic he had conquered all on his own.

How do we harness the powers of goodness for life?

We commemorate Archangel Michael and the other angels very infrequently in our lectionary, and these readings are unfamiliar at best, unsettling for many of us, but triggering for many.

For those of you troubled by the images in today’s readings[iii], I’m going to take a cue from Pastor Jodi, and give you permission to check out for a while. I invite you to study the first 3 verses of the psalm[iv], Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all God’s benefits, or simply to let your mind focus on your breath while I continue.

7^th and 8^th graders, remember on Wednesday when I explained that not all of the bible is historic or meant to be read literally? Today’s reading includes those visions I mentioned, not based on events the narrator witnessed, but on a dramatic dream showing how powers greater than us wrestle for control. The hymn sings how the power of despair is vanquished, and love wins in the end.

We can read it as we read superhero sagas, or heartening stories of those who conquer their nightmares. There’s a moment in nearly every epic movie or fantastical story where all hope seems lost. The hero has made some wrong turn, the vehicle has run out of fuel, the bucket holding the secret ingredient is inadvertently kicked over, and there is seemingly no way to make things right. It would be understandable for the first-time reader to shut the book, to leave the theater, and cover their heads in defeat. But those who stay for the final act, who read the last chapter, who get out of bed the next morning and discover that a new day dawns, and a new possibility of life is offered.

Revelation is written for moments when all hope feels lost. The community that envisions an epic battle in the heavens is reassured by the conviction that despair does not get the last word.

People can confuse these verses as ones that condone hostility or authorize oppression of others in God’s name. They’re not giving us permission to be hateful.

But even when we don’t support violence we can identify when cosmic powers of destruction seem to be in control. The escalation of violence in Gaza and Lebanon, the assassination of leaders, the hunger crises in Sudan and the Congo, the flood of immigrants around the world with no safe harbors; the repercussions of climate change, destruction of rain forests, and now massive flooding and widespread destruction unleashed by Hurricane Helene…  It can feel like demonic forces are at play.

Our political discourse continues to spiral, pitting us into two separate camps, each painting the other as absolute villains. The proliferation of guns and random violence puts us all at risk.

And that doesn’t include the personal losses or crises we face: the death of loved ones, new diagnoses of untreatable illnesses, painful decisions about moving into hospice care as recovery becomes unattainable. Kids struggling after only a few weeks of school and falling into depression or revisiting anxiety. There are vast powers that can cause us to lose heart.

How do people of faith find the courage to go on? How do we sing a hymn of hope in the face of such widespread despair? Where do the angels intercede for us?

In the face of hunger, starvation, and closed doors, young William of Malawi harvested random pieces of discarded garbage, to generate healing and hope for his community.

Dear Friends, we are invited today to be those who harness the wind. We are invited to turn the page, to trust that somehow, the power of goodness will prevail. We are invited to trust the power of angels working alongside us, to pick up the scraps of any kindness or compassion we may find scattered by the wayside to build a vision of a new world.

We might not be able to build a windmill on our own, but we might be able to find a way to recycle lost pieces of joy or compassion and turn back the forces of despair.

Maybe we sit with the classmate who is alone at lunch. Maybe we call the friend who is lonely today. Maybe we pick up groceries for the family down the street who just got bad news. Maybe we clean out a drain that is clogged with leaves. Maybe we slow down to listen to someone with whom we normally disagree, to see if we might find any glimpse of common ground between us.

Maybe we can spend the night at church next month with people seeking permanent housing in our city. Maybe we harvest the remaining vegetables from our Giving Garden and take them to Neighborhood House. Maybe we join Kyrstin’s team to help with Sunday School, or tell Deacon Ashley that we’re open to serving as a mentor for one of our confirmation students. Maybe we can offer to help serve a meal after a funeral, or join the tech team, or join a choir, or visit a homebound member, or welcome newcomers into the building, or simply smile across the aisle.

And maybe, by these tiny, overlooked actions, the blades of love and mercy can begin to turn. Maybe, the Spirit of Reconciliation and Understanding will move seemingly unmovable forces and empower us to live. Maybe the Wind will start spinning a groundswell of love and gratitude, generating power to change the world. God’s Holy Breath will energize our lives, breathing healing and gentleness, rest, reconciliation, and creative goodness, even when all hope feels lost.

And then with all of powers of heaven, with angelic hosts, and all the servants who do God’s will, we can rejoice that love wins, and that all creation has been claimed for life.

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless God’s holy name.

[i] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Kamkwamba

[ii] Kamkwamba, William and Bryan Mealer, The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity and Hope, HarperCollins Publishers, HarperLuxe, 2009.

[iii] Our texts for today:  Revelation 12:7-12; Luke 10:17-20.

[iv] Psalm 103:1-3.