September 28, 2025

Pentecost 16 Lectionary 26

Isaiah 32:14-18; I Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31

Epiphany, Winnipeg

Hear some words from Isaiah again:

“For the palace will be forsaken, the populous city deserted; the hill and the watchtower will become dens forever…The palace will be forsaken and the populous city deserted.”

You might recall a few weeks ago when the prophet Jeremiah spoke not only of ruined cities, but also of a fruitful land that became a desert, and cities left in ruins. Even the birds have disappeared” after humans have done what humans can do at war.

Maybe you’ve seen pictures like this before – European landscapes after being turned into the battlefields of World War I. They were once lush and green and full of life but once war began and people turned against one another it didn’t take long to turn forests and fields and hills and cities into barren and lifeless places. It was the early 1900’s, but it could sound and look like the land Isaiah had in mind.

But you might also have heard of civilian and military survivors of those battles, who talk about still hearing the sound of songbirds who kept on singing, or of crows who kept on surveying the land and calling out. The things that humans could do to the landscape couldn’t silence the voices that were there before. The birds did not flee.

Maybe you’ve seen pictures like these ones too. These are those same battlefields, but over the course of the decades and a century, the life came back. Bunkers that were part of elaborate trench networks have become caves and homes for bats – and we all know that bats eat mosquitoes! - and the greenery has returned. A pool forms in holes once made by artillery, and a pond is born. Plant life has been returning along with species that lived there before or that are appearing for the first time. Some of this has just happened on its own, and some has happened because the neighbours replanted the forests and protected the recovering land.

You can hear the words of Isaiah echoing again: The cities and lands will be devastated, “until a spirit from on high is poured out on us, and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field, and the fruitful field is deemed a forest. Then justice will dwell in the wilderness and righteousness abide in the fruitful field. The effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.”

We have an insert in our bulletins today that points to some of that very same thing that Isaiah talks about. Canadian Lutheran World Relief is inviting us to be a part of some work that supports communities in the Lake Chad basin, as they work to restore the landscape and so strengthen their communities.

Here's what’s happening. Lake Chad used to be a huge lake that covered land in four west African countries. It was once the centre of a thriving ecosystem that sustained all kinds of plant life and water life and animal life including human life, but since 1963 the lake has shrunk by ninety percent, because of things like climate change and rising temperatures, deforestation, overgrazing, and pollution. Plant and animal species disappear, rainfall decreases…

And peoples’ lives change. Livelihoods disappear while hunger and disease increase. Farmers with reduced income might have to pull their children from school. So there’s loss of income, loss of education, health and safety concerns, and so on. Local people compete for scarce resources. There’s strain on households and on the larger community, all because an ecosystem that supported people for centuries is unravelling.

You can hear that story and hear the sounds of those Isaiah and Jeremiah things again, can’t you? “The populous city is deserted; the hill and the watchtower become dens forever…fruitful land becomes a desert.”

Canadian Lutheran World Relief is helping to support the work begun by families and farmers in that Lake basin Chad, not just as they work to restore the local ecosystem, but as they work for the health of their communities.

Here's an example of some of that work that’s going on. I’m quoting from CLWR here:

“In Logone Birni, Cameroon, the land has always sustained life—but in recent decades, it has also become a source of conflict. As weather patterns shift, rain becomes unpredictable, and floods and droughts grow more common, the natural resources that people rely on—land, water, grazing areas—have grown scarcer. This has led to rising tensions between farmers and herders, and more violence within families, especially as the struggle to grow food and earn income puts extra pressure on households.

In response, the community came together to form a peace committee, supported by Canadian Lutheran World Relief. The committee builds on existing local groups and emphasizes the importance of including everyone—especially women and youth—in the work of restoring peace.

Madame Kirna, president of the women’s group within the committee, helps lead these efforts. Under her guidance, women now play an active role in resolving disputes, preventing violence, and building trust between neighbours. They’ve received training on leadership and important awareness topics like positive masculinity, which encourages respect, support, and shared responsibilities at home and in the community.

A youth group within the committee is also working to address issues facing the next generation. Together, these groups are tackling conflicts not only between farmers and herders, but also between different ethnic groups, helping people move beyond fear and blame toward understanding and cooperation.

The peace committee doesn’t just solve problems—it brings people together. One of its most powerful efforts has been organizing community meals, where families share dishes from their own traditions and sit side by side to eat. These meals are simple, but they’re helping to rebuild something deeper: a sense of belonging.

In a place where both the climate and community have been under strain, the trust these neighbours are rebuilding is more than strong—it’s life-giving. And like a seed planted in good soil, peace here is starting to take root.

That's just one piece of the work that CLWR is doing with the people of the Lake Chad Basin.

It’s like Isaiah saw this strong woman and the other people in this community working together and then was inspired to write this:

“A spirit from on high is poured out on us,

and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field,

and the fruitful field is deemed a forest.

16 Then justice will dwell in the wilderness

and righteousness abide in the fruitful field.

17 The effect of righteousness will be peace,

and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.

18 My people will abide in a peaceful habitation,

in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.”

We heard another reading, from Luke, a few minutes ago, and there’s something that’s important for us to take home from that story today. There’s a rich man and a man named Lazarus. They live in the same world, but they have no connection with one another. One struggles to survive, the other doesn’t even see him.

And here’s what happens in that story today; something someone else pointed out at Bible Study on Monday. The poor man named Lazarus, gets noticed when no one else notices. He’s noticed by an ancestor, Abraham, who welcomes him and comforts him. He gets noticed.

We could gather up, in that one character in the story, everyone who has gone unnoticed or nameless. And we hear that they are noticed and given a name. Remember that when you feel ignored, and if you’re not sure your name or your life really matters. In God’s way of dealing with the world nobody goes unnoticed. And when we begin to notice one another or notice the ones who usually go ignored, we begin to remember that we live in the same worlds, and we are a community.

We could even really stretch – because stretching is good for us – and wonder if in some way that single character named Lazarus is the whole creation. So just like Lazarus gets noticed, the whole creation gets noticed, and a community starts to form.

So we notice a far away place called the Lake Chad basin, and we remember that we with that lake are a part of the community of creation, along with everything and everyone who lives there. Or closer to home we notice a big lake on the prairies, let’s call it Lake Winnipeg, living or struggling to survive, along with the lives of everything that lives there, all around the lake, in cities and villages and first nations. We’re a community, with all of creation.

So we are noticed right here, and we notice the community we are part of with the world beyond right here. We remember that we are a community with the communion of saints. We’re a community with the lives of everything that lives all around us; we’re in community with the people and the soil of Fort Richmond or wherever it is that any of us call home, with the animals and plants in the park and in the river and in the air. We’re all noticed. We’re in community with Madame Kirna and a town in Cameroon, and everything in the Lake Chad basin. We’re in community with broken and restored landscapes. We’re in community with all creation.

On the seventh day of creation, God looked and saw everything God had made, and God saw a community, and God said, “Wow. That’s good.” God notices it all, and so keeps on speaking a promise that sounds something like this:

“A spirit from on high is poured out on us,

and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field,

and the fruitful field is deemed a forest.

16 Then justice will dwell in the wilderness

and righteousness abide in the fruitful field.

17 The effect of righteousness will be peace,

and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.

18 My people will abide in a peaceful habitation,

in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.”