Barbara Moyer Lehman: Wrestling with God’s apparent absence

November 30, 2008
Advent 1: Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80: 1-7, 17-19; Mark 13-24-27

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It probably isn’t too difficult for many of us to think of a time in our life when we were devastated by something that happened, or when we had to endure great hardship, grief, or physical, mental or emotional pain. The event or experience might be far in the past or as recent as this year, this month! It might have been just one isolated event or experience, or a long accumulation of things, one crisis piled on top of another. Knowing some of your stories and personal journeys, I am aware that what you might be remembering right now would cover a huge variety of experiences.....and no two would be alike. If we would name some of them the list might include:

• loss of job
• chronic disease
• infertility
• facing addictions
• miscarriage
• disappointments with children
• bankruptcy
• dealing with abuse
• sudden death of spouse, parent, child
• fears/phobias
• diagnosis of a physical or mental illness
• loss of homes/property
• loss of mind/body due to accident/stroke
• divorce

The list could go on.....

When we faced the most difficult, challenging, painful time of our life, we probably cried out in similar ways as the prophet, Isaiah, “Where are you, Lord?” or “Why, Lord? Why now? Why us? Why my son?” or “Why don’t you come down and do something?!” One of the mysteries of life and our relationship with our Creator is that at the time when we most need to experience the closeness, the comfort, the compassion and tenderness of God, we very often feel a sense of isolation, abandonment, aloneness. The sense of God’s presence may not always be felt. God may seem distant, HIDDEN from us. It may be difficult to pray. Sometimes our very spirit feels shriveled up.

If we have not ever been in a situation where we have felt that way personally, there are times when we have some strong emotions and feelings about what is happening in our nation and the world around us, and might have cried out to God, “Come down, and break into this scene, into this mess that we and/or others have made and do something, stir things up, shake up the nations and our leaders!”

This Isaiah text for the first Sunday in Advent is not a passage that makes us ‘feel good’. It is not one of comfort. It does not lead us into the season of Advent in a gentle, sweet, comfortable way, as we move toward Christmas and the birth of the Christ Child. In fact it is a communal lament! The language and emotions are raw. The images are real and understandable. They rise from the center, deep within, a visceral cry that erupts from the gut of the prophet, Isaiah.

Isaiah finds himself in the role as mediator between God and God’s people. The community is on the brink of losing its center, its spiritual identity. The relationship between God and God’s people is fragile, broken. Isaiah stands between them, wanting to honor God and wanting the well being of his people.

They have returned from exile, they are back in the Promised Land, but it isn’t very rosy. They are suffering economic hardship and humiliation and abuse, sometimes from foreign powers, sometimes at the hand of their own leaders. Out of a situation of great need, this lament rises. It actually begins in chapter 63. Isaiah is trying to recall for them and remind them of all the gracious deeds God had done for them in the past. It was a time when God’s presence was with them in the midst of their suffering. But they turned from God, they rebelled. They grieved God’s spirit. God turned away. Now they felt God’s absence and wondered , “Where is God?” “Where is he who brought them through the sea?” “Where is he who led them through the depths?”

Isaiah cries out to God on behalf of his people, “Look down from heaven and see....where are your zeal and your might?” “Your tenderness and compassion are withheld from us. “For a long time now, you’ve paid no attention to us....It’s like you never knew us!” (Is. 63:12, 19)

They were wrestling with the apparent absence of God! There life was turned upside down. They were tired, exhausted. The resources of the faithful few were depleted. Out of anguish, Isaiah pleads for God to “look down”, but even that is not enough. In this desperate time, when chaos seems to engulf their world, Isaiah reaches the breaking point, “God, rip open the heavens and come down.” It is time to act! The images are graphic, even violent! Mountains quake, nations shake in their boots, fire burns, water boils! Isaiah is appealing to God to reaffirm God’s sovereignty! Make your name known. Restore us, O God.

How is a broken relationship restored? The people had rebelled, turned from God. God had turned away from them, abandoned his people. How can divine grace and forgiveness and healing reenter into the lives of a rebellious and broken people? How does it come into our lives? How does restoration take place, when God feels so distant and even hidden from us.

On Thanksgiving Day, John and I drove to Charlottesville to spend the day with our son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters. While the turkey was in the oven and we were waiting for it to be done, we were playing with our granddaughters. I was holding 4 month old Kate and John was sitting in a nice, comfy chair in the living room, playing with 22 month old Samantha. He had a blanket that he would pull over his head and body, covering himself up and then he sat there quietly, without moving. Sam knew that grandpa was under the blanket, but she couldn’t see him. She would stand by me, waiting with anticipation, her big blue eyes wide open, her blond curls dancing around her head as she stood on tiptoes. When John would slowly pull the blanket down, slowly revealing his face to her, Sam would just squeal with delight and cry out, “Paw-paw”. Yes, she knew he was there, but one time was not enough. She wanted him to do this again and again. And each time they played this little game, there was such joy and delight expressed in the face and eyes of both Sam and Paw-paw, as the ‘unveiling’, the revealing took place. Maybe that is much like the joy and delight that we experience with God, when we feel a sense of aloneness and abandonment, and then sometime. somehow God is revealed. God’s face becomes known and seen and what joy and delight God and God’s people feel, as they make that contact, when the relationship is restored again.

Isaiah knows what is needed.....He leads the people in confession. Repentance needs to happen. They had sinned...big time, for a long time, in fact they had been at it for so long, they weren’t sure there was any hope for them. Even there best attempts at doing right and living righteous lives didn’t seem good enough, they had pretty much given up. They didn’t pray to God, they didn’t reach out to God. God’s face was hidden from them. They were left to deal with their own sinfulness.

But confession does something. Confession clears the way for God’s love to work and for restoration and healing to take place. In almost a childlike way, they appeal to God, recognizing that they can’t save themselves. They need God. They are God’s people. They are in this together...parent-child. They know they don’t deserve what they are asking. They are aware of their shameful past, but they appeal to God, not to remember their past for ever, not to be angry with them forever...to give them another chance. For God created them, God formed them. God shaped them and molded them, as a potter molds the clay.

The last verse of chapter 64 addresses the very heart of God when Isaiah says, “Will you keep silent and punish us severely?” One final plea is made to the one who can help.

Joyce Rupp, in her book, Praying Our Goodbyes, writes these words when she talks about how sometimes God is silent and we do not have a feeling of God’s nearness.

At these times God says to us, “Keep believing in the greening, in the springtime of your heart. I know that it feels as though I am far away from you but I am closer to you than your next breath. On your weary days, just come and sit by the well of life with me. I will stay with you. On your discouraged days, remember that I year to fill your life with joy. It will return to you in time. On your days when you feel the ache will never go away, press your pain against me and know that I surround you with an everlasting love. Draw you strength and energy from me. I will sustain you in this wintry, dark time.” ( p.82-83)

In the act of lament and anguished pleas to God, troubles do not instantly vanish. Doubts don’t disappear, contradictions and tensions aren’t immediately resolved. Yet we trust that God will hear us, that God will not abandon us, that God will not remain silent forever. We do not know when the glory of God will be made visible to us. We do not know when or where light may break through the darkness. We believe it can happen. We believe in what we can see, but sometimes we are asked to believe in what we cannot see!

And so this Advent we wait.....we wait expectantly. We wait for God to show us his face. So, Pay Attention, Be alert, Watch! With Isaiah, we cried out our frustrations, we vented our pain and pent up emotions, we confessed our sins and recognized our failures. We come before God, open, yielded, ready, willing to trust again. Shine on your people, O Lord, in the darkness and into the light and may our faces reflect the light of God, as we welcome the Divine to dwell among us.

Restore us, O God;
make your face shine upon us
that we may be saved. (Ps. 80:3)

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Phil Kniss: The liturgy of abundance and the myth of scarcity

November 23, 2008
Trustees in God’s kingdom: A sacred trust
Psalms 104:1-2, 10-18, 24-30, 35b; Matthew 6:25-33; Deuteronomy 8:10-18

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We live in one of the best times ever to be a Christian in America.
I can’t think of a more ideal period in our history,
to be identified with the Christian church
in the United States of America.

I’m checking facial expressions right now.
I’m noticing some puzzlement.
A little skepticism here and there.
A smattering of shock and disbelief.
About what I expected.

Now why would I say such a ridiculous thing?
For one thing, that statement sounds patently false.
There is abundant evidence backed by solid research,
that the Christian church in America is at an all-time low
in its social influence,
its public respect,
and its number of active members.
Compared to a couple generations ago,
the church has been shoved from the center of American society
to the margins.

Not to mention, that just being American
increasingly puts us on the margins in the global community.
Our reputation and strength around the world
has taken quite a beating in recent years.

So not only does it sound false to say
it’s a great time to be a Christian in America,
but it sounds patently offensive and paternalistic.
We live in an age where we are trying to move away from
attitudes and behavior that smack of
Christian domination and American imperialism.
We hope we have matured to the point where
we both tolerate and value the wide range of ethnicities,
and nationalities, and religions.

Well, I agree wholeheartedly with both of those objections
to my opening statement.
The church is at an all-time low in American society,
and I personally do treasure the
social, political, racial, ethnic, and religious diversity
that makes up our culture today.

But all that notwithstanding,
I am grateful to be a Christian in 21st-century Western culture.

Because the church is a people shaped by a liturgy of abundance.
And we live in a culture shaped by the myth of scarcity.

We have something important going for us.
We have some significant gifts we can give the world
at such a time as this.

If we worship the God of Abraham and the God of Jesus,
we worship with a liturgy of abundance.
And that worship shapes how we look at God,
look at ourselves,
and look at the world around us.
A world shaped by the myth of scarcity needs people like us.
So it’s a great time to be alive;
a great time to follow Christ in our daily living.
And I say that with all humility,
because I know that we have a very long way to go,
in actually reflecting the liturgy of abundance in our lives.
Much of the time we are a very poor reflection, indeed.
_____________________

I’m going to develop this idea,
first by looking at today’s scripture readings,
and then by listening to the words of the renowned biblical scholar
Walter Brueggemann.
to whom I owe these terms
“liturgy of abundance and myth of scarcity.”

I chose only three scripture passages today,
out of hundreds of possibilities.
Everywhere we look, scripture reveals to us
a God of abundant generosity.

In Psalm 104 we have a rich, even opulent,
picture of God’s abundance in creation,
and his over-the-top provisions for all of his creatures.

The psalmist gushes in his praise of God.
“O Lord my God, you are very great.”
You make springs gush forth in the valleys . . .
you give drink to every wild animal . . .
You water the mountains . . .
You cause grass to grow for the cattle,
and plants for people to use . . .
to bring forth food and wine and oil and bread . . .
O Lord, how manifold are your works! . . .
the earth is running over with your creatures . . .
things innumerable . . .
These all look to you
to give them their food in due season;
when you give to them . . . they are filled with good things . . .
When you take away their breath, they die . . .
[but] when you send forth your spirit, they are created.
Praise the Lord!”

Every work of creation,
from humankind, to cattle, to fish, to the land itself . . .
God is praised as the One and only source of their life.
Everything they enjoy comes from God’s abundant hands.
And if God’s hands close, they wither and die.

And in Deuteronomy 8, God’s people are instructed,
“Eat your fill and bless the Lord your God
for the good land that he has given you.”

This is an urgent matter for people about to get to the promised land.
This is a liturgy they need to keep them oriented.
“When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses . . .
when your herds and flocks have multiplied,
and your silver and gold is multiplied . . .
then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the Lord your God,
who led you through the great and terrible wilderness . . .
He made water flow for you from flint rock,
and fed you in the wilderness with manna . . .
Do not say to yourself,
‘My power and the might of my own hand
have gotten me this wealth.’
But remember the Lord your God,
for it is he who gives you power to get wealth.”

There is no time for God’s people that is more dangerous,
in terms of losing their orientation toward God,
losing the liturgy of God’s abundance,
than when they are settled and prosperous.
That is when God’s people forget who God is.
Is there a lesson in there for North American Christians?
You decide.

And then there’s Matthew 6,
straight from the Sermon on the Mount.
All through Jesus’ ministry,
he reinforced and demonstrated the liturgy of abundance.
The miracles were case studies in God’s abundant generosity.
Turning water into wine.
Feeding 4,000 and 5,000 from a few fish and loaves of bread.
Catches of fish so excessive they broke the nets.
Lepers cleansed. Demoniacs cured. The dead raised.
So with that backdrop, Jesus preached, saying,
“Don’t be anxious about your life,
what you will eat or what you will drink,
or about your body, what you will wear.
Look at the birds of the air . . .
Consider the lilies of the field . . .
through nothing of their own doing,
God feeds them . . . abundantly,
and clothes them . . . majestically.
And they are of relatively little value.
And their life is momentary.
How much more will God abundantly care for you?
But strive first for the kingdom of God
and all these things will be given to you as well.”
_____________________

Just three out of a hundred passages,
All pointing the same direction.
We learn that the God of the Bible is a God who
created every good thing that exists in the universe,
and who owns it, and has ultimate authority over it.
And we learn that the God of the Bible is a God who
stands before the people he loves with generous open hands.
God is not stingy or self-protective with his blessings.
God is a huge risk-taker in his generosity.
Time and again, God gives more than is needed for life.
God gives to those who don’t fully appreciate his gifts.
Even to those who abuse and misappropriate his gifts
to their own selfish purposes.

Yes, God sometimes judges the disobedient,
by withholding abundance.
But the withholding is simply to draw them back,
to restore them to a place where they can receive God’s abundance,
with joy and gratitude.

When we are steeped in, and formed by,
a liturgy of abundance,
we live free of anxiety,
full of joy,
full of gratitude,
and we respond with similar generosity.
Unfortunately, we are even more strongly steeped in, and formed by,
our culture’s myth of scarcity.

I told you I was indebted to Walter Brueggemann,
the brilliant and provocative O. T. Bible scholar,
who coined these terms,
liturgy of abundance and myth of scarcity.

He is far more articulate on this topic than I.
So I’m simply going to read some selected quotes from his writing.

These are Brueggemann’s words, from several of his writings:

The Bible starts out with a liturgy of abundance.
Genesis 1 is a song of praise for God’s generosity . . .
It keeps saying, “It is good, it is good, it is good, it is very good.”
God blesses the plants and animals and fish and birds and humankind.
And says “Be fruitful and multiply.”
Overflowing goodness . . . pours from God’s creator spirit . . .

[In the face of a famine,]
Pharaoh introduces the principle of scarcity into the world economy.
For the first time in the Bible, someone says,
“There’s not enough. Let’s get everything.”
Pharaoh [creates a] monopoly.
When the crops fail, the peasants give up their land for food . . .
the next year, they give up their cattle.
[Then] they have no collateral but themselves.
And that’s how the children of Israel become slaves.

[Later, in the wilderness,
the children of Israel received the gift of free bread.]
At first, everybody had enough.
But because Israel had learned to believe in scarcity in Egypt,
people started to hoard the bread.
When they tried to bank it, to invest it, it turned sour and rotted,
because you cannot store up God’s generosity.

Exodus is a record of the contest
between the liturgy of generosity and the myth of scarcity—
a contest that still tears us apart today.

The liturgy of abundance says . . .
Appearances notwithstanding, there is enough to go around,
so long as each of us takes only what we need.
In fact, if we are willing to have but not hoard,
there will even be more than enough left over.

An ideology of scarcity says no, there’s not enough,
so hold onto what you have.
In fact, don’t just hold onto it, hoard it.
Put aside more than you need, so that if you do need it,
it will be there, even if others must do without.

The fundamental human condition continues to be anxiety,
fueled by an ideology that keeps pounding on us to take more,
to not think about our neighbor,
to be fearful, shortsighted, grudging.

The Bible offers an antidote to all this . . . the call to Sabbath.
Sabbath is based on abundance.
God’s generosity reached [its] climax on the sixth day [of creation],
when God proclaimed it sufficient . . .
and declared all this “very good”

But how willing are we to practice Sabbath?
A Sabbath spent catching up on chores
we were too busy to do during the week,
[or racing to the mall to catch the last of the weekend specials]
is hardly a testimony to abundance.
Honoring the Sabbath is a form of witness.
It tells the world that “there is enough.”

We can live according to an ethic whereby we are not
driven, controlled, anxious, frantic or greedy,
precisely because we are sufficiently at home and at peace
to care about others as we have been cared for.

The gospel story of abundance says
we originated in the magnificent,
inexplicable love of a God who loved the world into generous being.
The story of abundance says that our lives will end in God,
and that this well-being cannot be taken from us . . .
neither life nor death nor angels nor principalities nor things—
nothing can separate us from God.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if liberal and conservative church people,
who love to quarrel with each other,
came to a common realization that
the real issue confronting us
is whether the news of God’s abundance can be trusted
in the face of the story of scarcity?

What we know in the secret recesses of our hearts
is that the story of scarcity is a tale of death.
And the people of God counter this tale
by witnessing to the manna.
There is a more excellent bread, [and there is plenty.]

[see end of sermon for source citation]

--------------------------

You know, the liturgy of abundance has nothing at all to do
with being wealthy and having lots of possessions.
In fact, the wealthy (like nearly all of us in this room)
are probably more likely than anyone
to fall for the myth of scarcity.
That’s why the children of Israel were sternly warned in Deut. 8
when they arrived in the promised land,
“Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand
have gotten me this wealth.’”

I have personally been in worship services in small,
extremely poor villages
in India, Tanzania, Ethiopia, Zimbabwe, and Swaziland.
I never cease being amazed
at the sheer joy and exhuberance and gratitude
of Christians in poverty worshiping God their provider.
And oh, the abundant and celebrative feasts that can be spread
by people with almost nothing.

Contrast that with high church worship in the wealthy West—
Europe and North America.
Now, I love the beauty and liturgy of high Western worship.
But I don’t often get the impression
that this worship is driven primarily
by a deep and visceral gratitude to God the daily provider,
without whom we would not survive.

What I invite us to do this morning,
is to begin laying down the myth of scarcity.
To lay down this useless anxiety we carry around in our beings
about whether we’re going to have enough.
To lay down our worries, our self-protective behavior,
our tendency to hoard.

But rather, in spite of our shrinking 401K’s,
in defiance of the latest drop in the stock market,
in rebellion against the media messages of doom and gloom,
I invite us to invest ourselves in the liturgy of God’s abundance.
I invite us to be formed by that liturgy,
into people of radical joy, gratitude, sharing and generosity.

God created this world beautifully and abundantly.
It is full and overflowing with life.
And God continues to sustain and reproduce this life.
There is enough for all. There is plenty, if we share.

So today I invite us to celebrate the offering
as if we all believed in this liturgy of abundance.
Maybe we’re not completely convinced of its truth.
It doesn’t hurt to act like it. To practice it anyway.
Behavior can shape belief, just like belief shapes behavior.
So participate in this offering as if you fully believed
that God is your daily provider.
That God never has, and never will abandon you,
but has provided enough for a full life.

The first thing we do is make sure we all have something to give.
The offering is an act of the community.
One reason we can be so confident in God’s abundance,
is that we are part of a sharing and caring community.
So we all participate.
You may not have come this morning with something
in your hand or pocket or purse.
That’s okay. Because there are people all around you with extra.

Our offering this morning can be whatever you want to bring.
Your weekly offering to the mission of this church.
Or your filled-out Faith Promise cards for 2009.
Or whatever else you might have to give to God.
Take a moment now to look around you,
and make sure everyone, including all the children,
has something in their hands to bring.
Share.
If you have an empty hand, show it. Hold it out.
I’m sure someone around you has something to put in it.
It doesn’t matter whose pocket it came from,
because, remember, it all came from God anyway!
Now it’s going back to God in an act of gratitude.

Everybody have something? Okay.
Now we don’t have to be prim and proper and orderly
when we’re giving a joyful gift to God.
We’re not going to use ushers.
But maybe to prevent people from getting run over and stepped on
in your enthusiasm to give God an offering,
I suggest that we move this way.
Those in the center section, go to the center aisle,
and make your way to the baskets,
returning to your seats by the opposite aisle.
Start in the front and work your way back.
Same with those in the side sections.
Come to the side aisles.
Make your offering,
and return to your seats by way of the angled aisles.
If it’s physically difficult to make this trek yourself, that’s fine.
Send your gift up with someone else.

We’re ready?
So let’s worship, with great joy and gratitude,
the God who gives us all we need, and more.

Brueggemann quotations came from two of his articles:
"The Liturgy of Abundance, The Myth of Scarcity" by Walter Brueggemann
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_10_116/ai_54367179

"Enough Is Enough" by Walter Brueggemann
The Other Side, November-December 2001, Vol. 37, No. 5.

—Philip L. Kniss, November 23, 2008


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Phil Kniss: After We Say We Believe

November 16, 2008
Trustees in God’s kingdom: A shared trust
1 Corinthians 12:12-17, 24b-27; Mark 12:28-34

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I often begin my annual stewardship sermons
with something semi-apologetic and semi-humorous.
To lighten the mood,
to sort of ease you into the dreaded money-talk.

Not this year.
Because I am in no way apologetic,
and in no way hesitant,
to preach not just one, but two sermons on stewardship.
My only apology
is to say I’m sorry if I ever preached a sermon, any Sunday,
that was not, at its core, a stewardship sermon.

We think far too small about stewardship.
Theologian Douglas John Hall once said,
“Stewardship is all that I do after I say, ‘I believe.’”
I couldn’t agree more.

When we make a genuine statement of belief, of faith, of trust in God,
it reorients everything.
Forget the silly notion that stewardship
is deciding how much money to give the church.
Stewardship is everything we do, after we say we believe.

If we believe that God is
creator and owner of all that exists in the universe;
If we believe that
God has entrusted us with the responsibility to care for all of it
in a way that honors the owner;
then welcome to your full-time job,
a job for which you’re not just on-call, but on-duty 24/7.
Job title? “God’s Trustee.”

I use the word Trustee instead of Steward.
Same thing.
But “trustee” is more familiar,
and it explicitly names the essential truth on this subject—
This is all about trust.

We all know we need to have faith in God.
We need to trust God.
But the most astounding truth about life as a servant of God,
is that God has faith in us.
God trusts us.

If we don’t understand that,
we don’t understand the core message of scripture.

Since God wants a relationship with us based on mutual love,
God gave us freedom to choose whether to be in that relationship.
The consequence of giving us freedom
is that humankind often chose against God,
to our detriment, and the detriment of the world.

But God is still determined to bring us, and everything else,
back to our created purpose.
God is determined to save, to redeem, to restore.
But God needs us, as trusted partners in this work.
Because if God put things right unilaterally,
with a divine flick of the wrist,
God would have destroyed human freedom,
the very thing necessary for a love relationship.
So God called out a people, put his complete trust in that people.
God made them partners in mission.

Saving, redeeming, restoring, and reconciling is God’s mission.
And we are God’s trustees.

The definition of a trustee is simple.
A trustee is someone who is given trust,
by the owner of whatever is being entrusted.

So for instance, when a young child inherits a large sum of money,
it’s put into a trust fund,
managed by a trustee.
Someone who can be trusted, more than an 8-year-old,
to manage large sums of money.

And when a church appoints trustees
to look after the building and grounds,
they choose someone they trust
to take care of the property the church owns.

But one important thing about being God’s trustee,
it’s not a solo job.
It’s not a sole trusteeship.
We are a board of trustees.

Most universities have a board of trustees.
The trustees don’t own the university.
Maybe the state government owns it,
or a church owns it.
And the board of trustees
carry out the mission and vision of the owners.
Trustees don’t make up their own mission,
they are in service to the mission of the owners.

But just as significantly,
they function together as a board, not individually.
When the board is not in session,
they are ordinary citizens.
Individuals are not authorized to speak on behalf of the board.
They are part of a joint trusteeship.
It needs to be this way
because the organization needs the wisdom of a community.
It’s not always clear
how the vision and mission of the owner
gets interpreted and applied in various circumstances—
such as how to prioritize the annual budget,
and whether to fund this building, or that program,
or change this policy, or that curriculum.
So the Trustees act as a community of interpreters,
trying to meet a changing set of needs and circumstances,
in a way that remains faithful to the owner’s vision and mission.

That’s why it’s healthier to have a board of trustees
with a wide range of perspectives,
with a variety of gifts and strengths and expertise,
who approach problems from different angles.
When they can work together as a body,
unified in purpose and mission,
and diverse in gifts and perspectives,
they are more likely to stay faithful to the owner.
_____________________

We—those of us who say “we believe”—
are God’s board of trustees.
We who acknowledge that God is Sovereign over all creation,
and who submit our lives to the reign of God in Jesus Christ,
have, by definition, accepted a communal responsibility,
to act on God’s behalf in this world,
serving the mission and purposes of God.

We are the body of Christ,
not in some mystical and metaphorical sense,
but literally, physically.
Together, we embody Christ in the world,
acting on God’s behalf, as God’s trustees.

And God has seen fit to give this body a variety of gifts.
And has blessed the members of this body
with a variety of perspectives,
and personality characteristics,
and ways of thinking and solving problems.
So that working together,
with God’s saving and reconciling mission at the center,
we have what it takes to be good trustees,
faithful to the trust God has placed in us as a body.

That, I believe, is precisely the message brought home
by today’s epistle reading from 1 Corinthians.
“The body is one,” the apostle Paul writes,
“and it has many members.”
We need each other.
“If the foot would say, ‘Because I am not a hand,
I do not belong to the body,’
that would not make it any less a part of the body.
If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be . . . ?
The head cannot say to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’”
But God arranged the body,
and God intends the body to work together
with a unified purpose.
That is the body to whom God had entrusted
his mission and purpose for all creation.
_____________________

We don’t really have a big issue with this.
Yes, we’re one body with interdependent members.
We can live with that, in the abstract.
But when it starts getting personal,
our enthusiasm diminishes.
We get a little edgy about this notion
that we all share some responsibility for each other, mutually,
in terms of how we’re doing as God’s steward,
God’s trustee.

Some of the boards I’ve served on have done peer reviews,
where the board members evaluate each other
on their performance as a board member.

But in the church,
we don’t really want other trustees looking over our shoulder,
giving us specific counsel.
This is true in any area of our lives—
vocational issues,
relationship issues,
personal morality.
But it’s certainly all hands off
when it comes to money and possessions.
That’s private.
That’s just between me and God, thank you very much.

And suddenly we opt off the board.
We act outside the authority of God’s board of trustees.
I think our deep commitment to privacy
when it comes to how we use God’s money and God’s possessions
comes directly from our culture of individualism.
It doesn’t come from the Bible.

Some of you might be thinking,
“Oh, but didn’t Jesus teach that when we give money
we shouldn’t let our left hand know what our right hand is doing?”
Actually, no. He did not.

Jesus did say that when we give money to poor people,
we shouldn’t go out in the street and make a big show of it,
so as to impress other people about how kind we are.

But in the Bible, people’s contributions to their faith community
were nearly always a public matter.
People were held accountable.
Jesus himself, one day,
sat down with his disciples
directly opposite the temple treasury deposit box,
and not only watched what people dropped in,
but pointed it out to bystanders,
and made comments about it.
Did you see what those rich people put in?
Did you see what that poor widow put in?

Members of the early church, Ananias and Sapphira,
were publicly called out, and punished by God,
for their selfishness and deceit,
in the way they used their finances for God’s kingdom.

And when Paul wanted other churches to contribute
to the needy Christians in Jerusalem,
he played one church off another,
the Macedonians off the Corinthians.
He encouraged generosity
by publicly pointing out the generosity of others.
_____________________

Interesting, isn’t it, how we’ve come to where we are.
That in terms of how we save, spend, or give away
God’s money and God’s possessions,
privacy is a sacred cow.
Now I wouldn’t suggest the only way for me to be faithful
is to invite my church friends over to my house,
gather around my computer,
and open up Quicken and TurboTax, and say,
“So, tell me what you think.
Am I being faithful with God’s money?”
No, it’s not the only way to be faithful.
But I think it’s one legitimate way.

I at least ought to consider, with some careful and honest prayer,
“How can I open up my decisions about how I manage my finances,
and how I invest in the work of God’s kingdom?
How can I let those decisions actually be shaped by the fact
that I am a part of the body of Christ,
that I have a role as a member of the board of God’s trustees?”

I think that question is especially crucial right now,
in a time a great economic distress and uncertainty.

If we’re not careful,
suddenly all our financial decisions,
including our investments in God’s kingdom,
are being determined by a very earthy, primal, and reactive fear.
Suddenly, protecting the quantity of grain in our private storehouses
is concern #1.
Everything else is secondary.
It is times of crisis like this that reveal
the naked truth about ourselves.
Suddenly it becomes clear if our hope and peace,
and joyful anticipation of the future,
is rooted in our trust of God and God’s kingdom,
or in the state of the U.S. and global economy.
Suddenly we find out whether our commitment
to worship God with our First-fruits,
to give God the first of our harvest,
and not the leftovers,
is just lip service,
or a genuine life-shaping commitment.

And I’m not just talking about the way we choose to fill out
the Faith Promise cards for giving to Park View Mennonite Church
next year.
That’s part of it, sure. But just one part.

It’s about how freely and joyfully we materially invest in
God’s mission of redeeming and reconciling creation.
Not just with our charitable giving,
but with all of God’s money
that we’re temporarily managing for God.
It’s about how we care for the least of these among us,
the faces of Jesus in the poor and hungry and homeless.

Isn’t it curious, that when the economy goes south,
many service organizations
start running out of money to care for the most vulnerable?

I’d like to say that the drop in giving
comes only from those without a faith orientation.
I’d like to say that everyone who puts hope in God’s kingdom,
and who worships a generous God,
keeps up, and even increases, their own generosity.
But I might be on shaky ground.
_____________________

I wonder what it would be like,
if in times of economic uncertainty,
the automatic response of Christians
would be to turn to each other for support,
for counsel, for spiritual reorientation.
If instead of letting our decisions be governed
by our very real and substantial fears about the future,
we intentionally turned to the community of God’s trustees,
to get reoriented.
If instead of circling the wagons, taking a protective stance,
and getting even more private about our money,
we invited a few of our sisters and brothers in the church
to meet together for a time of worship and prayer and Bible study,
that focused on our hope in God’s kingdom,
and our experience of God’s abundance and generosity.
What if we intentionally took steps to orient ourselves
not around our fears and worries,
but around the source of our hope and joy,
to orient ourselves around the God of abundance and generosity.

And then from that position of re-orientation,
we sought counsel from others of God’s trustees,
on how God might want us
to spend, save, or give away God’s money,
and God’s other material assets
that we are privileged to manage for God?
And this mutual counsel could include, as one part of it,
how we fill out our 2009 Faith Promises.

Radical way of thinking?
Maybe, for our culture.
But not for biblical people, I would think.
Not for people who think Jesus meant what he said
when he spoke in ways that were upside down
to our culturally-conditioned ways of thinking.

Such as blessed are the poor,
and blessed are those who mourn,
and blessed are the lowly.
In the Beatitudes, the word blessed means “supremely happy.”
The poor, the mourning, and others in a lowly state,
can be happy for the simple reason
that they have been reoriented.
They judge their state of affairs by the values of God’s kingdom.
In the midst of trying circumstances,
they can genuinely rejoice and be glad,
for theirs is the kingdom of God.

Can we find reason to rejoice?

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Phil Kniss: How (not) to heal brokenness

November 9, 2008
On being the healing community of Jesus in the world
Luke 9:1-6; Acts 3:1-16

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So I wonder if anyone thought it was a bit curious
that in a series of sermons on the public life of the church,
I chose to end with a sermon on healing.
What does healing have to do
with being the church before a watching world?
The ministry of healing is usually private.
A pastor or elder prays at someone’s bedside.
Or an intimate gathering of friends and family
prays, touches, anoints.
Even in public worship,
healing prayers are quiet, personal, and private.
Our healing ministry is not something
we are ready to take to the streets, is it?
Or is it?
_____________________

We are a nation and culture built around
individual and private consumers.
And I think we’ve come to look at God, and faith,
and healing, through the same lens.
What has God done for me lately?

There’s a huge interest these days in the relationship between
spirituality and good health.
Research shows that people who pray when they’re sick
get better quicker.
So we are urged to be more spiritual, to pray more,
so that we will be more healthy.

But what does this say about God?
What happens when we make individual health and well-being
the highest good, the end toward which we strive,
and we make God and faith the means to achieve that end?
Haven’t we just made health to be the real god,
and reduced the God of the universe
to little more than a instrument to achieve our ends?

But this instrumental way of looking at God, faith, and healing
is wildly popular in our culture.
It spawned a whole industry of spiritual products,
from angels on the dashboard, to Jesus figurines,
to specially-blessed prayer oils.
It created the phenomenon of independent celebrity healers,
who are not accountable to the local church,
whose ministry is focused entirely
on healing individuals of various physical ailments,
and who preach a shallow theology.
They pay scant attention to daily discipleship,
or following Jesus in the ordinary,
or the central role that Jesus’ body, the church,
plays in our health and spiritual growth,
or to the rich and multi-layered theology of suffering
that is part of Christian faith.

To popular culture, pain and suffering is an unmitigated evil,
and death is to be avoided at all costs.
We’re not much interested in a God who, in Jesus,
became our companion in suffering,
became a suffering God.

Yes, God is all about healing.
You can’t read far in any of the four gospels
before you encounter a story of Jesus healing.
In Jesus, God showed his compassion
on those who were sick, blind, or lame,
on those oppressed by spiritual beings . . .
even on those already dead.
So, it’s not a question of whether
God has the capacity and desire to heal individuals.
Of course, God does.

No, it’s a question of context.
The healings in the gospels
were part of something much larger God was up to.
Healing was not the end, but the means.
Jesus did not come just to heal people.
He came to proclaim and make known the kingdom of God.
And healing was one of the main signs of that kingdom.

My criticism is not that we pray over individuals for their healing.
No, we ought to pray for the healing of persons.
And we do, and we always will.
My problem with celebrity healers is not that they pray in faith for healing.
My problem is what they leave out of the message.
Both the culture and the church
too often makes individual healing an end to itself,
and ignores its larger context.

God’s mission is still the same as it was in the Gospels,
to establish the kingdom of God on the earth,
and to invite people into kingdom communities
that proclaim and demonstrate
the full and fruitful life God intended for us at Creation.
Healing is an integral part of that mission.
Kingdom communities are healing communities.

Look at any healing story in the Gospels.
Jesus did not care for just one narrow slice of their well-being.
He wanted them to live a full and fruitful life
as a member of God’s covenant people.
If the purpose of Jesus’ ministry was simply to heal
every disease and every disability and every oppression,
then he actually wasn’t very efficient.
He wasted a lot of time telling stories,
hanging out with his disciples talking about the kingdom,
eating meals with Pharisees and tax collectors,
going to wedding parties,
retreating into the mountains to pray.
Meanwhile, there were a lot of sick people not getting healed.
He could have organized differently,
He could have deputized hundreds of disciples,
and spread them over the whole region,
and set up 24/7 assembly-line touch-and-heal stations.
Even in a short 2-year ministry, he could have gotten to everyone.

Apparently that wasn’t the point.
Jesus came to proclaim the kingdom of God,
to explain it, to demonstrate it, to invite people into it.
Jesus was just as concerned that lepers
found their way back into the covenant community,
as he was that they got cured of their leprosy.

Read Matthew chapter 8.
When he healed a man of leprosy, he didn’t just say “be cured.”
First, he broke the law by touching the man,
openly confronting the social and religious system
that isolated lepers from their own people.
Then he told him to go to the priest to be declared clean,
to be fully restored to his covenant community.

And read Luke chapter 8.
After he cured the demon-possessed man
that lived out in the cemetery,
the man begged to go with him and become a traveling disciple.
Jesus said,
“No. Go back to your town. Tell people what happened.”
And I don’t think Jesus’ rationale was just spreading the news.
When a man who used to break chains, and cut himself,
and cry and babble, and live naked among the tombs,
suddenly is sane, clothed, and having normal conversations,
word gets around, without trying.
No, I think Jesus knew the man needed deeper healing.
He wasn’t quite finished being healed.
He needed to be restored to his family and community,
to find the wholeness that comes from knowing
who you are, and who you belong to.

You’d be hard-pressed to find any healing story in the Gospels
that did not have some deeper restoration going on.
Healing is much more than the absence of disease.
It nearly always means being drawn into a healing community,
finding a full and fruitful life as one of God’s people
living out God’s kingdom on earth.
_____________________

Remember today’s Gospel reading, from Luke 9?
This story comes right after the healing of the demoniac,
and a couple other healing stories.
In Luke 9, Jesus does deputize his disciples.
But not to create a more efficient healing machine.
He gave them authority over diseases and demons,
but then told them to
“proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal.”
Their methodology was community-building.
They were to go without any bag, bread, or supplies.
They were to be dependent, not self-sufficient,
in order to encourage sharing and building community.
They were to find homes that welcomed them,
that extended peace.
Then they were ready
to share the good news of the kingdom and to heal.
Healing was located within a kingdom community.

And the disciples kept on taking this approach to healing ministry,
even after Jesus returned to heaven.
All through the book of Acts
it’s impossible to separate physical healing
from restoration of relationships
and incorporation into a healing community.

This morning we heard the story of the crippled beggar, Acts chapter 3.
It wasn’t the healing itself that got Peter and John into trouble.
It was the fact that Peter and John
tried to put that healing into a larger context.
They used the opportunity to point out that this healing
was a direct result of the fulfillment of covenant,
begun with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
and fulfilled in Jesus, who the people had just crucified.
And they used the chance to invite the crowd to repent,
and turn to Jesus,
and become part of the new community of the kingdom
that God was bringing forth.
And about five-thousand of them did.
That’s the reason Peter and John
were dragged in front of the high priest and Council.
_____________________

It’s really not a difficult thing to pray for healing.
All we do is
respect God’s right to heal whomever God will,
realize that it is only God who heals,
and then pray, trusting God.
That’s not the hard part.
The hard part is to take seriously this larger call of God,
to enter fully into the life of a healing community
oriented entirely around the kingdom of God.
That’s where deep healing, deep reconciliation,
and deep restoration can happen.

Healing, divorced from a healing covenant community,
may happen to some degree.
But it can never be deep healing,
because we were created by God for life in community.
In God’s eyes, a whole life, a life healed of brokenness,
must be a life restored to community,
restored to the life God made us for.

Today I want to challenge us at Park View Mennonite Church
to explore a deeper life as a healing community.
I’m convinced that if we desire deep healing,
then we need a deep communal life,
a life in a healing community
centered on Christ our healer.
This is true no matter what brokenness.
Whether bodily illness, or estrangement, or grief,
or spiritual bondage, or mental illness,
or social fragmentation.

But this healing community needs to be on a small enough scale
to allow for face-to-face relationships that are deep,
are intentional, and are bound by mutual covenant.
We simply cannot expect that all the healing we need
will happen in the privacy of our prayer closet,
or in the anonymity of a worship service with 300 people.
We must do what Jesus expected his followers to do,
build intimate communities that embody the kingdom
in our broken lives and broken neighborhoods.

So when one among us struggles with intense
and persistent grief,
they will never carry that burden alone.
And when someone faces a debilitating illness,
they can expect more than a perfunctory prayer from the pulpit.
They will have persons who come to their aid
to help with chores without being asked,
and who gather around them in concerted prayer for healing.
When someone suffers from domestic violence,
or some injury too painful to name publicly,
they will have persons—a few, but enough—
who will hold their story safely
without judging or abandoning,
who will carry them in prayer,
when they cannot pray for themselves.
And when a marriage, or other significant relationship is broken,
there will be persons who can both support,
and challenge with integrity,
and with an honest and authentic love.

You know, healing communities are not just a vehicle to
support and affirm and provide emotional comfort.
They are not just spiritual-psychological support groups.
Healing communities challenge each other toward wholeness.
They are communities committed to embody
the values and character of God’s kingdom.
So whether the brokenness is physical, emotional, or spiritual . . .
whether it is personal or relational or systemic . . .
a healing community oriented around the kingdom of God
is best equipped to minister the healing power of God.

That includes being the healing representatives of Christ
in the culture and world around us.
That is why I say healing is central to what it means
to be the church in public.

Perhaps today, more than ever,
our culture needs healing communities of the kingdom.
We have just come through an election
that has revealed more than ever the brokenness in our society.

This country has always had disagreement
over different political visions.
But election years, and maybe this one more than most,
reveal deeper wounds.
In the run up to election,
political differences take the form of personal character attacks.
They pit families and neighbors against each other.
They arouse intense emotions of fear, bitterness,
anger, or betrayal.
Political differences take on deep religious significance,
and even divide congregations.
They cause otherwise kind, considerate people
to engage in derogatory labeling, stereotyping, and slander.

But now it’s over, sort of.
The elections have been decided.
But deep social wounds remain.
What would it look like for Park View Mennonite Church
to be a Christ-centered healing community
in post-election Harrisonburg?

Stanley Hauerwas once said that when it comes to public life,
the best thing a church can do, is be the church.
That means we put our loyalty to the kingdom of God first.
It means that we embody, in our common life,
a centeredness and clarity of life,
that allows us to thrive as a Christian community,
not in spite of, but because of, our political differences.
It means that we would be willing to seek out deep conversations—
not happen to have, but seek out—
deep conversations between persons
with very different political philosophies.
Democrat and Republican sisters and brothers in Christ
gathering together to discern how best
to contribute our gifts to public society.

And out of those conversations come relationships
of such deep mutual respect and love
that it will capture the attention of a watching world.
I can’t help but think that the world is watching the church
even closer now.
There was a lot of religious talk (or shouting)
going on in this election.
So now, how are churches going to live out their values.
The world is watching.

Wouldn’t it be great if followers of Jesus everywhere
could show the world a different way to live together
as a community of healing in a time of social brokenness?
In a community that exudes kindness and Christian civility,
a community whose members never join in when
talk at the water cooler gets ugly, or labels or demeans,
a community that is able to speak respectfully to,
and about, people we disagree with,
a community that is amazingly generous
even in times of economic crisis,
a community that reaches out to the marginalized
and forgotten people of our society,
regardless how many or how few public funds
are available for social programs,
a community that is willing to sacrifice its own agenda
to give itself to the greater good.
A community that can live deeply with each other,
in joyful hope,
even when our political visions diverge.

It’s not that political differences don’t matter.
Different visions of how to guide a nation
bring different results.
Sometimes those results impact millions of lives.
So let the open and public debate continue.

But in the church that acts like a church,
there is a greater, and more hopeful vision, that guides our life.
It’s a very different thing than the politically-expedient
“reaching across the aisle” that needs to happen in Washington,
and Richmond, and Harrisonburg.
It is the building of brother- and sister-hood
made possible only by the grace of God in Christ,
and it is far more profound, and far more hopeful,
to a fragmented, and watching, world.
_____________________

So . . . sisters and brothers,
I call us to a deeper life as a healing community.
Our culture needs it now.
But so do we. All of us.
We need it for every kind of brokenness that we are right now
carrying around in our beings.
Burdens of brokenness, in body, in mind, in spirit.
Burdens of brokenness in our relationships.
There are more than enough burdens
that God’s desires to lift and to heal,
in this very healing community,
and through this healing community.
We are a community of wounded healers,
and we are a community of burdened . . . burden-lifters.

And as a community, we are invited to come bring our burdens to God,
for Jesus will never say “no.”

In the words of the hymn we sang earlier,

O Christ, the healer, we have come to pray for health,
to plead for friends.
From every ailment our bodies clamor to be freed,
yet we confess that wholeness is our deepest need.
Grant that we all, made one in faith,
in your community may find
the wholeness that, enriching us,
shall reach and prosper humankind.

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Barbara Moyer Lehman: If You Believe

November 2, 2008
All Saints Sunday
Isaiah 25:6-9; John 11:32-44; Rev. 21:1-6a

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There are probably more than a few persons here this morning who could be described as skeptics. These are people who need proof or evidence, cold hard facts or personal experience. It is difficult for skeptics to take another’s word about anything. They want to taste, smell, feel, touch, see, experience, first hand. Many of us are like that occasionally, but some folks are like that a lot.
Some of the ways we express that in our language sounds pretty familiar. We say things like:

“I’ll believe it when I see it myself.”
“Give me proof, then I’ll believe you.”
“Seeing is believing”
“You had to have been there and see for yourself, then you would believe me.”
“I need to see with my own eyes first, then I’ll believe you.”

Skeptics can understand the story about Thomas, that we read about in John 20. After the resurrection, when Jesus appeared to the disciples, Thomas was not with them. When the disciples tried to tell him they had seen the Lord, skeptics can understand Thomas’ remark, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails, and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
When Thomas was able to do that, to have proof, evidence firsthand, that was all he needed. He cried out, “My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

When I studied the gospel text for today from John 11, the story about the raising of Lazarus, I was struck by verse 40, where Jesus says to Martha at the tomb of Lazarus, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” Apparently Mary and Martha didn’t get the message or understand it, when after Jesus received the news from them that Lazarus was ill, Jesus stated, “This illness does not lead to death, rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” But here we find in verse 40 that Martha is telling Jesus that Lazarus has been in the tomb for 4 days and certainly there will be a stench! It appears clear to them that Lazarus is dead. Jesus does not tell Mary and Martha, that he understands that they are all deeply saddened that Lazarus is dead, and so he will raise him from the dead. That way they will see and believe, and know God is being glorified through the work of Jesus. This is not a “seeing is believing” story.(at least not at this point with Martha. in verse 45, we do read that the Jews that had come with Mary, after they had seen what had happened, they believed!) But to Martha, Jesus is saying, “believe and then you will see how God is glorified.” Remember I said that his illness will not lead to death.

It must have been difficult for Mary and Martha to believe that anything good was going to come out of this. Why did it take Jesus so long to arrive at their village to minister to their brother and his dear friend?

Now there are many interesting parts of the Lazarus story that we could delve into, like....

-the sense of deep love, friendship, intimacy that is evident among Mary, Martha, Lazarus and Jesus. Mary is the one who anointed Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair...a very beautiful, intimate gesture. And when the sisters sent word to Jesus that we read in the early part of the chapter, that Lazarus is sick, they say, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” We see these wonderful expressions that help us understand the relationship among these folks. Mary and Martha are very forthright and direct when they confront Jesus with, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” They are honest, and even assertive as they let Jesus know how they feel.

-the deep level of feeling and emotion of Jesus that we sense in this text. When Jesus sees Mary weeping and the other Jews with her, we read how he was “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” or “ groaned in his spirit” or “stirred with indignation” or “anger swelled up in him”. And then we read, “Jesus wept”.

So we know that this relationship mattered to Jesus and that he had told them , Lazarus’ illness will not lead to death. Yet here they were..at the tomb after Lazarus was apparently dead for 4 days. And Jesus says to Martha, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

How many times do we doubt and miss the real picture of what is happening?
Can skeptics trust God enough to truly believe that God knows the big picture, and they don’t have to?
Martha appeared to be dealing with the reality of what was, at least what she was experiencing...that her dear brother got sick, Jesus didn’t get to their village in time to do anything about it, Lazarus was now dead and in the tomb for 4 days. Jesus arrives. Skeptics can understand that Martha was dealing with evidence/proof.....a body in a tomb. How could she understand Jesus’ earlier statement, “this illness does not lead to death, rather it is for God’s glory.”?

How difficult it is to believe and trust that God is in control, not us! That God knows and sees the big picture. We all have resisted and gringed at times when well meaning people have said to a person going through a painful situation, facing a crisis, grieving......things like, well it must have been God’s will, and something good will come out of it. Truth is, we don’t have the capacity to know what will come out of it, how God will work in the situation. We don’t have the big picture and it isn’t for us to know.

What I do believe is that sometimes God is calling us to believe and trust first and foremost. Have faith that God is in control and that God sees the big picture. Too often we want to test God. We say, “well, Lord, if you will heal my son, then maybe I can believe in you, or maybe I can find my way back into the faith community.” Or “if you help me find a job, Lord, then I know that you care about me.” Or “ fill in the blank....

(story of Ella May...ready to die, longing for heaven, praying that God would take her..It wasn’t happening....she decided she needed to change her perspective and change her prayer. God apparently had something more for her to do, although she didn’t know what. But her prayer became, “God , show me”)-

Maybe God is saying....

“If you believe in me, if you trust me, you will see the Life-giver giving Life.”
“If you believe in me, if you trust me, I will open your eyes to God’s activity on earth.”
“If you believe in me, I will reveal my divine nature as life giver in ways and places that you can’t imagine.”
“If you believe in me, I will open your eyes to new possibilities. You will notice...you will pay attention....you will see God at work....and the ‘glory’ of God will be revealed...will be made known.
“If you believe in me, I will show you the light, the brightness, the sure sign of God’s presence on earth.”

Today we remember and celebrate the people in our lives and congregation who believed, endured and kept the faith in difficult and dark times. We remember and give thanks for those who enjoyed many years of good health, lived a long life, enjoyed a productive career. We remember those who were visionaries and stepped out, taking risks, challenging what was, bringing new life and energy into their families, their work, their faith communities. We remember and celebrate those who worked quietly behind the scenes, those who faced special challenges with health or family relationships. We remember and give thanks for all of those who have gone on before us to their eternal reward. They loved us, taught us, challenged us, cared for us, accepted us, modeled for us, what is important.
The song from Zimbabwe says it well,

If you believe and I believe and we together pray, the Holy Spirit must come down and set God’s people free, and set God’s people free.”

Prayer: We thank thee, O God, for the saints of all ages; for those who in times of darkness kept the lamp of faith burning; for the great souls who saw visions of larger truth and dared to declare it; for the multitude of quiet and gracious souls whose presence has purified and sanctified the world; and for those known and loved by us, who have passed from this earthly fellowship into the fuller light of life with thee. Amen (anonymous)

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