Remembering
Sermon preached by the Reverend Patricia Farris
June 19 - 24, 2005
Faithful
God of our yesterdays, todays and tomorrows, grace us always to remember
your blessing, your fondest dream for each of us and for your whole
creation. Amen.
Dear ones, thank you for
blessing me with the invitation to come and spend this glorious week
with you. Before I left to come, a young woman in my church from Virginia
told me that her mother had worked in the dining room here at Lake
Junaluska when she was in high school. And while working there, she
met a fine Christian woman who had come for some program, who got
to know her, took an interest in her, wanted to support her further,
and paid for her first two years of college. I know that this very
special place has a long history of miracles and blessings and my
time with you has been so for me this week.
Your sharing of your gifts
and talent and faith in all the concerts was beautiful and such a
testament to the power of the Holy Spirit working within us—organ,
dance, instruments, bells, choirs of all ages. Thank you, thank you,
thank you.
And just one more personal
word. For Southerners and a Westerner to form this kind of holy bond
at this time in the life of our United Methodist Church is a life-giving
blessing for our church and I’m thrilled that many of you will
be coming out to the national conference in San Francisco next month
to carry the relationship a step further. Would that the world would
look upon us and say: “Those Christians—see how they love
one another!”
We have come to our last
morning and I know there are many of you who will be feeling sadness
as this week, this precious annual time of connection and renewal,
comes to a close. It has truly been a mountain-top experience, has
it not?
But we go knowing that
we are not just the old same folks who arrived here a week ago full
of excitement and anticipation. We have been changed. We have been
blessed, just as were those whom Jesus blessed on the mountaintop
long ago, all those who had gone up the mount that day to draw closer
to God and closer to the truth within. And now we carry that sense
of being God’s beloved back to our homes, our families, our
churches, our work, and our summer play.
Our theme this morning
is remembering, remembering who we are and whose we are, remembering
so as to be launched into God’s future with new energy and conviction.
And that’s a very special kind of remembering that is peculiar
to God’s saints. All week together we have been remembering
the blessing, telling the stories, remembering that we are God’s
beloved.
The sociologist Robert
Bellah worries that our culture, with high geographic mobility and
high divorce rates, is shaping us into “spiritual amnesiacs”,
people without the kinds of memories and stories that enrich and nurture
our lives.
Remembering is indeed a
source of grounding and laughter and strength. Recounting the old
family stories is a way of re-connecting with what makes us who we
are. Connecting with our sacred story is a way of tapping into the
deep wellspring of faith that empowers us to face into the future
unafraid. This is what church should be, especially this sacrament
of the Lord’s Supper. It’s getting together to tell our
family story, to remember how we got here and who we are.
And just like the best kind of special family meal together with all
the relatives, when we’ve heard the stories for the millionth
time about old uncle so-and-so or our great-grandma or the crazy relative
that drives everybody nuts, when we have shared this meal we should
feel special because we remember that we’re part of God’s
very special family of beloved children.
Now I know from
conversations with you this week that for some of us it is very difficult
to claim the blessing. There is sorrow and pain that you carry, some
wound not healed, a sense of not being worthy. Remember, Jesus gives
the Beatitudes precisely for wounded spirits, for hurting hearts.
Blessed are you, the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn. Blessed
are you. Hear how Eugene Peterson’s puts it in The Message:
“You’re
blessed when you’ve lost it all. God’s kingdom is there
for the finding. You’re blessed when the tears flow freely. Joy
comes with the morning. You’re blessed when you’re ravenously
hungry. Then you’re ready for the Messianic meal!”
So
in your hearts now, write your name on the banner where you need it
to be this morning. And along with all the names we have written this
week, we lift you up to God now for a special blessing. We lift you
into the embrace of God’s love. May the Lord’s face shine
upon you this day and bless you with peace.
The
great preacher from your part of the country, Will Willimon, now Bishop
Willimon, once said: “The Bible is not so much a record of our
search for God as it is a record of how God searched for us…You
are here,” he said, “not because you are searching but because
you have been sought, called and summoned. You are here because God
has reached in, grabbed you, put you here, enticed, wooed, allured you
here…you have been found [by God].”
There
is a desire within us to let ourselves be found and blessed by a higher
calling. There is a huge hunger in our hearts to know that our lives
are important and have meaning and purpose, to know that we are part
of something bigger than ourselves, something lasting and enduring,
something holy and beautiful and true. Even this morning, God, in Christ
Jesus, is wanting to find us.
Listen.
Even now, God is calling your name and blessing you.
It’s
truly not easy to accept such an overwhelming gift. God invites us into
the blessed life. Christ gives us this meal as a foretaste of the heavenly
feast. And that’s even more than eating at Lake Junaluska for
a whole week! God seems to want to do everything for us in superlatives
and of course sometimes we just shake our heads and say: “Good
Lord, you mean ALL of this is really for me?”
There’s
a story told about some Norwegian immigrants that helps bring home this
point. In the early 1900’s, when many were coming to America,
one family was so poor that they couldn’t afford the trip. Their
neighbors all joined together and came up with enough money for tickets
to sail to New York for the parents and their two children and they
gave them bread and cheese for the voyage.
The
family boarded the ocean liner and went down into the steerage section
where they found a little corner to call their own, grateful to be aboard.
They had just enough food to last the ten-day journey. But about six
days into the trip, the son said to his father: “I can’t
face one more cheese sandwich!” The father took pity and sent
him up to the ship’s store to buy an apple or another piece of
fruit. Two hours went by and he didn’t return. The father became
worried and went to look for his son, up flight after flight of stairs.
At each ascending level, the surroundings grew more luxurious. He finally
found his son in the dining room, seated at a grand banquet table laden
with fish, chicken, ham, potatoes, GRITS!, vegetables and desserts.
“Son, what have you done? I can’t pay for all this food!”
he said. “It’s OK, Dad”, the boy said, “the
meal doesn’t cost anything. It’s included in the price of
the ticket. We could have been eating like this the whole trip!”
You
know, we don’t need to be stuck with a cheese sandwich faith when
Christ is offering us so much more. Here, he says, raising his hand
to bless us. Here, he says, calling us by name, take this bread, my
beloved! Take this cup! Remember! Remember! Remember!
We
are part of a big, beautiful family created by God to embody an alternative
community of blessing in this world. How we need this holy meal, this
remembering, to call us back to the life God intends.
The
way of blessedness is a way of emptying ourselves in order to make
room in our hearts for the presence of God. It’s a way of not
exalting ourselves by the measure of this world, in order to experience
a deeper measure of value in Christ-like living. It’s a way
of not valuing ourselves by wealth, success, beauty or prestige, but
rather by the measure of our love of family, friends, community and
God.
The
way of blessedness is the way of seeing Christ in those we might think
are “below” us—the poor, the homeless, all those
who this society too easily casts aside. The way of blessedness is
about seeking always what is true, not necessarily what is popular
or socially approved. The way of blessedness can be very costly. To
some Christians, it meant the cost of their lives. For us, it can
mean the cost of stepping outside the “good life” long
enough to experience life through the dying and rising of Christ Jesus.
The way of blessedness is surely a way of spending our resources—our
time, our money, our talents—in the service of others.
Christ
wants us to know the blessing, for our salvation, yes! But Christ
also blesses us to great work for the Kingdom.
We
are blessed to be a blessing. As Teresa of Avila said it so long ago:
“Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands, but yours,
no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ looks with
compassion at the world; yours are the feet on which he is to go about
doing good; yours are the hands with which he blesses people now.”
We
are blessed to be a blessing, servants and shapers of the future God
has prepared before all time. A future of hope and healing and fulfillment
for all. Through the power and grace of our God, we can remember a
future for our lives fulfilled far beyond what we now can see. We
can remember a future for this world far different from the one our
eyes now see. We can remember a future full of hope and righteousness
and peace. All this is what God has blessed.
Friends,
after a long, good week together, it’s time to say “Amen.”
But watch out for that little word! I have a feeling that when we
say it in the worship service, it’s often just a signal that
the prayer is over. That it’s time to open our eyes and look
up and see what’s coming next, especially for you musicians
who probably have to spring into action rather immediately with an
organ or choral response! But, really, from the Hebrew way of praying,
amen means “so be it.” So be it. In uttering that word
before God, we are committing ourselves to live as Christ’s
beloved disciples in this world.
“Amen”
is not a word of ending. It is a word that commits us to going forward
with God. Blessed to be a blessing. Remembering the future. I know
our children and youth are ready, because we heard and saw it in them
last night. Let’s join them with our loud Amen!
I
commit myself, O God, to you. Amen? Amen.
I commit myself to live as a beloved disciple of Jesus Christ. Amen?
Amen.
I commit myself to live in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen? Amen.
I commit myself to the Kingdom of Heaven. Amen? Amen.
I will claim the blessing. Amen? Amen.
Amen.
So be it.
And all God’s people said: Amen!
Notes:
“Cheese
sandwich spirituality story” from Williamsen, Thomas P. Attending
Parishioners’ Spiritual Growth. Alban Institute.
© Patricia E. Farris, 2005. Permission is given for brief quotation
with attribution. All other rights reserved.
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