John 5:24-27
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Joshua 3:7-17
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There
once was a strongman at a circus sideshow who demonstrated his power before
large audiences every night.
Toward the end of one performance, he
squeezed the juice from a lemon between his hands. He said to the onlookers, “I
will offer $200 to anyone here who can squeeze another drop from this lemon.
A thin older lady hobbled up the stage.
She picked up the lemon and clamped it between her two frail, boney hands. She
squeezed. And out came a teaspoon of lemon juice.
The strongman was amazed. He paid the
woman $200 but privately asked her, “What is the secret of your strength?”
“Practice,” the woman answered. “I have
been treasurer of my church for forty-two years!”
The Wired Word had
an article entitled “25-Year- Old Makes All He Can, Gives All He Can” that described a young man who, rather than volunteering for things like the peace corps, felt the way he could best give to the world was by making as much money as he could and giving almost all of it to charities. It described the fact that most people say the best thing they could do would be to save a life, and yet it is within our power to do exactly that: to save lives through our donations of money to charities that provide medical necessities, food, shelter, clothing, jobs, opportunities. Sometimes these services are offered over-seas so they feel so far away that we don't see them, but the opportunities to give and to really make a difference for others are there. But people in the United States do not give much. Percentage wise, we donate very little of what we believe we have "earned" through our work to the service of others.
Today we honor the Saints, we remember the people who have gone before us who have created the way for us to be who we are and to do what we do and to live the way we live. Today is also the day that is scheduled for our Stewardship sermon. It is probably the sermon of the year I hate to give most, as it often becomes a lecture and a begging for money to support church programs in a diminishing community. But I found that as I thought about All Saints day and Stewardship, that there was a deep connection between the two that is providential, at least. While these two things may seem to have nothing to do with each other, in fact they are deeply related.
We as a culture focus a great deal on what is new and exciting. We are thrilled with the latest technology, the newest iphone, the latest gadgets. We like the comforts that our homes now have that we couldn’t imagine having when we were kids. Personal computers, phones we can take with us anywhere with apps that tell us where our kids are at any moment or what the score is in an on-going sports game, or when and where the next earthquake will take place at any time. We love our machines - dishwashers, clothes washers, coffee makers, microwaves. We are thrilled to have seat warmers in our cars and hundreds of channels on our TV sets, and international music channels in our cars. We depend on our GPS systems and we love our pads, our Kindles, etc. Maybe you don’t use all of these new gadgets, but I am certain that everyone in here uses at least some of them. We want to move forward in these ways, and we should. As we talked about just last week on Reformation Sunday, change is imperative and a calling from God to seeing in new ways, growing more deeply in our faith and our commitments, being the church this day in this world.
But we also lose something by a focus on what is new and innovative and amazing when we fail to also learn the lessons from our past, when we fail to find value in honoring what was, when we fail to lose connection with tradition, with history, with the things our ancestors valued and held dear. In failing to honor what went before we lose deep values, we lose the lessons learned from history, and we often lose a sense of meaning and purpose. Life becomes so much about NOW that we fail to care for the future, or respect and value the past that has made us who we are.
Sometimes, in the midst of the fast-paced changes of society, the rituals and traditions can bring a comfort, a stability that would not otherwise be found. But it is more than that. Mitch Albom in his book, Have a Little Faith (New York: Hyperion, 2009) shares about Rabbi Lewis, when he lost his young daughter to an asthma attack found
“The very rituals of
mourning that he cursed having to do – the prayers, the torn clothing, not
shaving, covering the mirror – had helped him keep a grip on who he was, when
he might have otherwise washed away. He
told how the words of the Kaddish made him think, ‘I am part of something here;
one day my children will say this very prayer for me just as I am saying it for
my daughter.’ His faith soothed him, and
while it could not save (his daughter) from death, it could make her death more
bearable, by reminding him that we are all frail parts of something powerful.”
(182)
Mitch Albom continues,
“..ritual was a major part of the (Rabbi)’s life. Morning prayers. Evening prayers. Eating certain foods. Denying himself others. On Sabbath, he walked to synagogue, rain or
shine, not operating a car, as per Jewish law.
On holidays and festivals, he took part in traditional practices,
hosting a Seder meal on Passover, or casting bread into a stream on Rosh
Hashanah, symbolic of casting away your sins.
Like Catholicism, with
its vespers, sacraments, and communions – or Islam, with its five-times-daily
salah, clean clothes, and prayer mats – Judaism had enough rituals to keep you
busy all day, all week, and all year.
I remember as a kid, the
(Rabbi) admonishing the congregation – gently, and sometimes not so gently –
for letting rituals lapse or disappear, for eschewing traditional acts like
lighting candles or saying blessings, even neglecting the Kaddish prayer for
loved ones who had died.
But even as he pleaded
for a tighter grip, year after year, his members opened their fingers and let a
little more go. They skipped a prayer
here. They skipped a holiday there. They intermarried (-as I did).
I wondered, now that his days were dwindling, how important ritual still was.
‘Vital’, he said.
But why? Deep inside, you know your convictions.
‘Mitch,’ he said, ‘faith
is about doing. You are how you act, not
just how you believe.’ (p.44)…”My grandparents did these things. My parents, too. If I take the pattern and throw it out, what
does that say about their lives? Or
mine? From generation to generation, these
rituals are how we remain…connected.”
We too, honor the past,
we honor the saints who have gone before in part by keeping alive the things
that they valued and also by giving to the causes and purposes that they
valued. We honor our parents, our grandparents,
our ancestors in the church by honoring Church, by valuing it enough to keep it
vital and alive, with both our money and our service.
We also honor them by
remembering the sacrifices they have made.
I’ve found myself thinking this week especially about the women who
sacrificed health, community and sometimes their lives in order for us to gain
the right to vote. We honor them by
using that right that they won for us by voting and remembering their sacrifice. We honor the work of the civil rights
movement by working to make racism a thing of the past, by encouraging our
communities to grow in diversity, inclusion and belonging. We honor those who served in WWII by making
sure it never happens again that some people are not seen as full human beings
or treated with less than full humanity.
I believe God puts us
here, in this place, at this time and in community, for a reason. We retain purpose through everything that we
do, through every interaction we have, through every choice we make. We also are called to serve and to give not
out of obligation but out of gratitude, out of love for God and God’s
people. Until we are called home, we are
invited, every day, to find in what ways God calls us to be God’s people. And we honor what has gone before us by
continuing to seek those purposes and reasons out.
These can be hard values
to retain in a society that is increasingly about the comforts of “me”, of
“I”. If something does not serve us NOW,
we tend to turn away from it. And giving
to others? That can be especially
difficult when we are told that we deserve everything good we can get for
ourselves at this moment, NOW. There was
a wonderful article posted recently in a colleague’s blog that was called “7
reasons Church is not for you”. It went
on to list all the things we complain about in church – the music, the
preaching, the staff, the communication, the building, the pastor, and the
people including the visitors who sit in our pews and come with different ideas
and ways to live or dress or be. It
talked about how we expect things to please us, to serve us, to entertain us,
to be what we want and when they aren’t exactly to our liking we just don’t
choose it. The article ends with these
words, “Sometimes we forget why we are ‘The Church’ in the first place.
Sometimes we treat the church like all the other things we consume daily in our
lives, and so we try to shape and form the church in our own image. We want a
church that meets our preferences, like personalized settings on our computer. Yet,
despite all that – despite us – God is still using The Church for God’s
purposes. God is still doing God’s work
in world, with or without us. Sometimes
we just need to be reminded of that. Sometimes
we just need to hear again: Church isn’t for you. You are for the Church.”
There is a praise song
that often echos in my mind entitled, “Let them see you” by JJ Weeks Band. The lyrics are:
Take away the
melodies
take away the songs I sing
take away all the lights
and all the songs you let me write
Does the one I am today
say the words you need to say.
Let them see you, in me
let them hear you, when I speak
let them feel you, when I sing
let them see you,
let them see you, in me.
Who am I without your grace?
another smile, another face
another breath, a grain of sand
passing quickly through your hand
I give my life, an offering
take it all, take everything.
(chorus)
With every breathe I breathe
I sing a simple melody
but I pray they'll hear more than a song,
In me, in me
Let them see you, in me
let them hear you, when I speak
let them feel you, when I sing
let them see you,
just let them see
you, in me
let them see you.
We
serve God with all we are, all we give, and all we do. I would challenge each of us to consider that
when we think we are done or finished, that we are not honoring the call God
gives us to show our gratitude and love of God, we are deciding that God is
done with US, and God is NEVER done with us. God is all about giving your life purpose and
meaning, from day one to the day you die.
We honor the saints by living their legacy, giving as they gave, serving
as they served, in whatever capacity we can, from the beginning through to the
end.
Two men were
marooned on an Island. One man paced back and forth worried and scared while
the other man sat back and was sunning himself.
The first man said to the second man, “Aren’t you afraid we are about to
die.” “No,” said the second man, “I make $10,000 a week and tithe faithfully to
my church every week. It’s Stewardship Month at my church. My Pastor will find
me.”
So much can be done with what is given out of gratitude and in a spirit of love.
Amen.
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