Monday, November 18, 2019

Sermon November 17

Holy Spirit, Give us a discerning eye and an enquiring mind that we may better understand the stories by which our lives are shaped; and gracious Lord, give us a brave heart and gentle hands that we may better shape the stories through which our lives will be understood. We pray in Jesus name. Amen.  (Pat Bennett)

I think Jesus was trying to change the story.

Some looked at the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, and believed in its magnificence. What could ever happen to it?

Jesus said, "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down."

Now one could continue on in this passage from the Gospel of Luke and wrestle with the apocalyptic symbolism and the meaning in his message. For there is hope in it even as we are startled by his words. But I want us to think about those precious stones.

It is so easy to get caught up in what we build and what we make of our lives, those precious stones. But if we are honest with ourselves, we know that so much of what we have, can be lost in an instance.

I remember watching the fire that ravaged Norte Dame in Paris. Such a magnificent cathedral, a hopeful and religious symbol for so many people since its beginning in 1163, that if not for the bravery of the Paris Fire Fighters, would have been a total loss. Its gothic architecture, its stones would have been thrown down. Just as the Brazilian museum fire from last year brought an ‘incalculable’ loss to the 200-year-old Rio institution that housed so many artifacts…

The Cathedral has lasted nearly 900 years and remains a place of sanctuary, of worship, of hope, speaks to our deeply held connection with one another, with God and with those beautiful stones.

And yet, if the cathedral did fall, it would be a great loss but our faith would go on. Just as that temple did fall to the Romans and was destroyed in the year 70, the faith of Jews & Christians marched on, even as the world seemed so terribly destructive and persecution arose.

What about our lives. What magnificent things do we have, those precious stones we admire.

I think Jesus wants us to change our story with them too. As one author put it…

“For those early Christians embraced a new story, the story of Jesus opened their eyes to see history not as a narrative of the empire’s achievements but as a narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world, which often occurs in quiet and mysterious ways. For them, Bethlehem and Golgotha occupied center stage, not Rome.

Jesus Christ reshaped identity. He promised to make people new creatures; he broke down dividing walls of hostility; he transformed how his followers saw themselves and treated “the other.” “ (Gerald L. Sittser, Resilient Faith: How the Early Christian “Third Way” Changed the World.)

Our story today does not lie with our precious stones, but with our faith in Jesus, our love for one another, and the hope we have in God’s new creation. Jesus calls us to re-center our priorities on our faith and living out that faith in righteousness, even in the worst of times.

For us to truly believe in this story of Jesus; to live into it, we must face into loss, into death and resurrection.

A physician, an expert in palliative care, was giving a presentation on the process of preparing to die.

He began by asking participants to make three lists: First, they were to write down five possessions that gave them pleasure; second, five activities that gave them joy; and third, the five people they loved most in the world.

After the audience completed their lists, the doctor began talking about a hypothetical patient, a woman whose days were filled with the usual routines, jobs and stresses of everyday life. But after she discovered a lump in her body, there came a cascade of medical interventions: first, a biopsy, then surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. After a year, it became clear that the treatments weren’t working, and the oncologist told her to get her affairs in order. She entered hospice care, and gradually her world shrank to the size of her bedroom.

And throughout the story, the doctor periodically paused to ask participants to cross an item off their lists.

The possessions and activities went first, of course. Each was a choice: Which would I have to give up more, my laptop or my car? Biking or walking? Then it came time to start crossing off people, each decision an agonizing, Sophie’s Choice dilemma. By now it was clear where this exercise was heading and most participants, even the men, were borrowing tissues from the women who were organized enough to keep a packet in their purses. By the time the physician’s hypothetical patient died, everyone has gone through a similar shedding of what they held dearest, leaving the audience the emotional equivalent of wet noodles. [From “We need to talk about death” by Lori Erickson, The Christian Century, August 28, 2019.]

This stripping away of possessions, status, and relationships happens to everyone as they die — and will one day happen to each one of us. Even though we believe that death is not the ultimate end, we can’t deny that, in the short term, there’s plenty of sadness to go around.

Jesus makes clear in today’s Gospel that our entire lives are a series of “deaths”: of letting go, of changing, of adapting to a new set of circumstances. But we believe that every “death” can result in some form of resurrection: a new understanding, a new insight, a new appreciation.

Today’s Gospel should not terrify us or deflate our sense of hope, but make us aware of the things of the world that will one day be gone and the lasting things of God that are the means of peace and joy as we journey from this world to the next.

In the end, those precious stones will not be ours to hold onto, but the stories through which our lives will be understood, those stories that we have changed in faith will guide us to a deeper relationship with God & with one another whatever may come in this world. Amen.

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