Sunday, January 28, 2007

Love its Simple But Not Easy


WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
January 28th 2007
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Love, it’s Simple But Not Easy”
Jeremiah 1:2-10; I Corinthians 13:1-13

Many of you are aware of what had been going on in my family. However, for those of you, who do not know, let me bring you up to speed. My father-in-law Tom Bradshaw has been fighting a rare form of caner for some time. Recently, following surgery on his liver this fall, his condition has gotten progressively worse. We had hoped that he would be able to have a liver transplant. However, because of a number of factors, he did not qualify. On Friday of this week he went into a residential hospice care facility.
Last Tuesday, Karen went to be with her dad and I stayed behind with our girls. Since Karen has a great deal of responsibility e for making many of the decisions, we decided it would be too difficult to have the girls around while all of this was happening. We believe it is best to let them keep with their routine for as long as possible. Karen did tell me that while she misses the girls, and me, that the past week has allowed her to, ‘just be a daughter’ and to be there for her dad during this difficult time. The girls and I will be leaving Tuesday this week to join her and the rest of the extended family. We have explained to Emma what is happening and she seems to understand as well as a three year old can. I give thanks for the many people who have helped, and offered to help, during this time.
Throughout the week I have been asked by many people if I felt the need to be gone from church this morning. In fact, it may even seem a little strange that I am here given all that is going on. Despite what it may look like, being here is not an attempt to “be strong” or to “put on a brave face.” My being here is not an attempt to be heroic or to ignore what is happening. I am here this morning because of what is happening. I knew that as long as we were in Saint Louis that I needed to be with my community of faith. That is just what I needed.
Last week we read the passage immediately preceding our reading from I Corinthians this morning. In that passage we were brought face to face with a powerful metaphor for the community of believers. The body of Christ is a metaphor which reminds us that each one of us matters and is vitally important to the health of the community. In that passage Paul also says something else which I believe is timely. He wrote: “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.” So, I am here, to be reminded and to be a reminder that we are all called to share all the parts of our life – the good times and the bad – the strong moments and the weak. We do not have to hide or ‘put on airs’ or worry about what others will think. We are simply called to come, just as we are, and faithfully as we know how and to be the body together. So, I am here.
This week I remembered a story about Miraslav Volf, a Croatian theologian. A number of years ago he was lecturing on the all encompassing nature of Christian forgiveness. At the end of the lecture someone asked him if he could ever forgive those who had participated in the killing of his people in Croatia. Professor Volf’s response is one I will never forget. He said bluntly: “No.” But, then he went on to say that he hoped other Christians would stand with him and remind him of Jesus teaching that forgiveness would include even those who had committed those violent acts. The professor said he hoped this would happen so that one day he might be able to offer forgiveness. While it is a powerful witness about forgiveness, it is also a reminder that Christians are not called to be super-human. We are called to be in community, to lift up and support one another in our journeys of faith. It is a reminder that none of us can get through life, particularly the life of faith, alone. We need each other in order to live faithfully as the body of Christ.
At this time of our family’s loss I am reminded of the importance of the community of faith. I am also reminded of the times when I have stood at the bedside of people who are dying. I am reminded of the times I have waited with people who wait to hear about test results. And, I am reminded about the pain people have shared with me as they seek answers to the suffering and tragedies of this life. In those moments there is nothing to be said that can take away the hurt or pain or the reality of the loss. However, the important role of the faith community in those times is that we are present, that we acknowledge the pain and even our lack of understanding of why these things happen. I believe that our presence with one another at these difficult times can be the most important witness we ever have to offer.
This January we have sought to understand better the sacrament of baptism and its meaning for our lives. The first Sunday we focused on baptism as the sign of our joining with Jesus in his death. I had no idea then that at the end of this sermon series that I would be faced with Tom’s death. I am not so sure I could have been as bold today as I was on that first Sunday. However, I give thanks for the ‘Great Cloud of Witnesses’ in scripture that so often serves as a reminder that simple rituals like baptism matter. It is a personal comfort to read Paul’s words from Romans:
When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that, as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For, if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
It is our belief that death does not have the last word and that as we share in death with Jesus that we too will share in the resurrection, the life everlasting.
Yet, even as I speak these words, I know that their will still be periods of pain and times of tears and questions of why this had to happen. I have shed my share of tears this week. This has been particularly true as I have tried to help Emma understand that Papa is going to live with God. During this time I have found comfort in places that I least expected.
It may seem strange but I have been comforted by some words written back in 1562 by some faithful followers. The first question from the Heidelberg Catechism has been rolling around in my head, and I was never even made to memorize it. In case you are not familiar it goes like this: “What is your only comfort, in life and in death?” and the answer is, “That I belong—body and soul, in life and in death—not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ… he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.” I have been told that this translation is not quite correct that it should read; “What is our only comfort in living and in dying.” I find this translation to be more meaningful. But, however it is supposed to read, I do not share this to say it is the final word that ought to make everyone feel better. Instead, I share it to say that during this week, I have found it comforting, and that, is enough.
So today we continue our journey to understand what being baptized is all about. God has called us all by name and claimed us as children, brothers and sisters together to be the body of Christ. Throughout our journey we will come face to face with all sorts of circumstances. However, the good news is that we do not have to face those circumstances alone. When the hard times come, and they surely have and will again, there is nothing we can say or do to make the pain go away. But we can proclaim, and use words only when it is really necessary, that we do not face them alone. God is with us and has called us to be together, to bear one another’s burdens, and rejoice in one another’s joys. So, let us be the body of Christ for one another this day and throughout our life together. Amen.

No comments: