Sermon: Re-member

A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C
5 June 2016

Listen here.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.

Dag Hammarskjold was one of the most outstanding and highly respected international leaders of the 20^th century.  He spent the latter part of his life devoted to pursuing the principles of the United Nations Charter, which proposed international cooperation and reconciliation for a peaceful world. 

It was known that Hammarskjold saw his work not only as a political role but also as a religious calling.  On his travels around the world, Hammarskjold always took with him three items, found in his briefcase, and recovered after the plane crash that took his life in 1961.  These included a copy of the NT, a copy of the Psalms, and a copy of the United Nations Charter.[1]

Indeed, Hammarskjold must have understood that the book of Psalms

·        Pronounces God’s claim upon the whole world

·        Conveys God’s will for justice, righteousness and peace among all peoples & nations, and

·        Anticipates Jesus’ bold position that the kingdom of God has come near.

While ancient Israelites used the psalms in their liturgy, these texts are much more than sophisticated poems.  We read them at every Sunday service, Evensong and daily morning & evening prayer – daily in the chapel at 8:30 and 5pm, you are invited!  We read the whole book of psalms in 30 days according to the order provided in the Book of Common Prayer.  Turn in your books of common prayer (BCP) to page 613, looking at the italicized text just above the number 24.  “Fifth day, morning prayer,” which we read for MP until BCP 27, where it says, “Fifth day, evening prayer,” etc.

At their heart, the psalms are not only humanity’s response to God, but also God’s word to humanity.  In this mutual conversation, we remember humanity’s ancient conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s divine conversation with humanity.

Professor Walter Brueggemann[2] offers a three-part framework to help with the enormous task of re-membering.

First, Psalms of Orientation reflect ours and God’s grounded sense of well-being found in the stories of creation, of the Torah, of wisdom literature.  Psalm 145 is a fine example, affirming God’s providential care.  Secondly, the Psalms of Disorientation offer personal and communal lament as found in that despairing place of unresolve and the very human experience of being felt denied by God and God’s experience of denial by humanity.  Psalm 88, for example, embraces this unresolved disorientation and precious helplessness.  Finally, Psalms of New Orientation offer personal and communal thanksgiving, confidence and praise in remembering the larger arch of creation. 

Today’s Psalm, #30, is a New Orientation psalm of thanksgiving, remembering the eternal story of going into trouble, sure, and of coming out of trouble that invokes a response that cannot be silent: praise and thanksgiving.  Getting into trouble, getting out of trouble, invoking burst of praise to God.

This theme, apparent in the first verses of the psalm, is palpable in the reading from 1st Kings and from the Gospel of Luke.  The psalmist, like anyone who grieves a loss, needs to tell the story – more, to remember, over and over, the details of the death and the rescue that occurs from which the response bursts forth: Lord, you have drawn me up, you have healed me, you have lifted me up and restored me to life.  The imagery of death captures and holds power for both the psalmist then and for us, now.

This psalmist invites us to remember. When were we, too, were brought to the Pit?  What was it like to demand from God an explanation for the depth of suffering? Finally, upon delivery, can we remember how we had to tell someone about that welling up of joy?  Remember how we could not stay silent, but instead give thanks and praise God?

With a veritable economy of words, the psalmist recounts the theme of the widow whose son died and yet lived again, according to the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.  The psalmist anticipates the other widow’s story from Luke, in which Jesus’ encounters her dead son and restores him to life through a compassionate command to “Rise!”  It seems the psalmist knew that from this encounter, people could only respond by glorifying God and sharing their praise.

Through these ancient stories, we remember humanity’s ancient conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s divine conversation with humanity.  And so God re-members us, re-weaves us into God’s beloved community and re-binds our broken hearts with compassion and with holy Love.  Again, we give thanks.

The last Hebrew word in this psalm is one of confessional thanks.  With that thanks there is a commitment to remember vividly the pre-rescue situation and to keep that memory alive.  With thanks, we confess.  When we give thanks, we admit that we rely upon another. To thank is a commitment to relationship. 

The Psalms hold a response to deep, human yearnings: the cries of our soul, the songs of surrender, the hymns of praise.  At the heart of this Psalm, with any interpretation, is this: God re-members us.

So how do we re-member others into our community?

1.   We see & serve others – we really see them, respecting their dignity in every way.  This week, we can look deeply into the eyes of those we encounter and attend to their needs, putting our needs to the side.

2.   We suffer with or have compassion with others – having compassion as for scripture’s widows and their sons, suffering with others and re-membering them into the community.  This week, we can offer compassion.

3.   We say thank you – We re-member others into our community by giving thanks.  And, in so doing, we admit our relationship with them and with God, the God who re-members us all back into community.

At their heart, the psalms are not only humanity’s response to God, but also God’s word to humanity.  In this mutual conversation, we remember humanity’s conversation with the Sacred and we remember Eternity’s conversation with humanity.

Today’s good news is that God remembers us, our whole selves, our whole humanity, our whole ancient story.  Our silence is impossible! 

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. 

It is right to give God thanks and praise.

---

[1] Story inspired by New Interpreter Bible Commentary, “The Book of Psalms,” page 641 quoting Dorothy V. Jones, “The Example of Dag Hammarskjold: Style and Effectiveness at the UN,” The Christian Century 111, 32 (Nov. 9, 1994) 1050.

[2] Walter Brueggemann, The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary (Minneapolis, Augsburg, 1984)

Sermon: Up and At 'Em and Jump In!

A Sermon preached in 

photo CCO Public Domain

Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse, Associate

The Third Sunday of Easter, Year C
10 April 2016

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable to you, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.
Listen here.

“Up and at ‘em and jump into the pool!”

This was our family wake-up call during my childhood’s long, hot, California summers.  And so we did.  Get up and jump into the pool.  And sometimes we would don our bathing suits, even.  Or just jump in with our pajamas on.  Hearing today about Peter’s jump into the sea, with his clothes on, like the buffoon he played, got me thinking about how Peter just, “got up and at ‘em and jumped in.”

The presence of Jesus on the beach served as Peter’s wake-up call during his long and difficult sleep of grief – the grief that “going fishing” was supposed to relieve.  Jesus woke him from the grief Peter thought would go away by the familiar spray of the sea mist, the sway of the boat beneath his feet, and the weight and texture of the fishing nets.

Of course, Peter wanted the familiar – just like we all do when a family drama turns our life sideways. We yearn for the familiar, we long for our sense of “normalcy.” That’s why Peter went fishing in the first place.

And, the beloved disciple’s exclamation, “It is the Lord!” woke Peter out of his sleepy post-traumatic shock from the week’s previous events: Jesus’ passion, crucifixion, death, empty tomb and re-appearances. Seeing Jesus on the beach also brought back Peter’s guilt.  He had said he would follow Jesus all the way to the end, even to death. Yet, when tested, Peter succumbed to his own vulnerability, his own fear and so denied Jesus – not once, but three times, just as Jesus had predicted. 

That morning, hearing Jesus’ voice, “…cast the net to the right side of the boat!” triggered Peter’s heartache and angst. And in that micro-second, Peter wondered if he would ever be able to make it right with Jesus, to forgive himself.  Then, seeing the abundance of fish in the nets was the last straw. 

Peter got up and at ‘em; and as he jumped into the sea, the rush of water gushing past his ears rang out a memorial torrent of struggle, of vulnerability, and of Love:

·        the wedding party at Cana where Jesus turned water into wine

·        the way Jesus up-ended the tables in the temple

·        the meeting Jesus had with the Samaritan woman,

·        the hungry crowd Jesus fed with just the 2 fish and 2 loaves.

Once Peter and the disciples had hauled in their catch Jesus told them to bring some of the fish they had just caught, to add to what he offered. In this simple, yet, profound request, Jesus not only provided for the disciples, but he also invited them to contribute. To contribute what they had and, by extension, who they were.

In sharing a meal of food that each provided, Jesus drew them all back into mutual relationship.  In this way, Jesus informed the disciples: he needed them to partner with him as co-creators of God’s realm here on Earth.  And Jesus asks us to bring what we have – and who we are: our gifts and our gaps, our strengths and struggles, our love and our longings – to be part of the Jesus movement. 

In the meal we share, Jesus draws us into mutual relationship, to make, together, a world as God dreams it can be. After sharing that meal, Jesus and Peter sat together.  The charcoal fire must have reminded Peter of that other charcoal fire – where Peter stood, warming himself, on that awful night of Jesus’ arrest and torture, when Peter denied knowing Jesus. 

Now Peter faced his Beloved teacher and Lord.  Courageously, in his vulnerability, he met Jesus one-on-one and looked into the eyes of the one he deeply loved – and denied.  Jesus spoke first, “Simon Peter, son of John, do you love me?”  Peter responded, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus replied, “Feed my sheep.”  Three times he asked Peter to confess.  Three times he did, though by the third time he was disheartened, even hurt.  Three times he invited Peter to express his love, symbolically wiping away the three times Peter had denied him. 

Jesus got up and at ‘em and forgave Peter – and more. God was at work

through the Risen Christ restoring Peter back into the discipleship community and giving him meaningful work to do. The good news here is that forgiveness leads to mission, restoration to purpose, and inclusion to calling. 

A few years ago, I read a book called The Five Love Languages.[1]  The premise of the book is expressing love in a way that the other understands.  The five love languages are:

First, “words of affirmation.”  In this language, spoken praise and appreciation is like rain on parched soil.  “I forgive you”, “thank you” or “you are important” shows love and belonging for those who speak “verbal.”  

Second, “acts of service.” In this language, actions speak louder than words: preparing a casserole for someone in crisis, making meals at Crossroads, baby sitting for the neighbor, or planting trees & shrubs to beautify the Moross Greenway; serving means love and belonging for those who speak “show me.”

Third, “receiving gifts.”  In this language, love is symbolized. A cheerful Easter bouquet delivered to a friend who cannot get to church or a simple note card with a ribbon inside means the world for those who speak “gifted” love.

Fourth, “quality time.” In this language, undivided attention, such as sharing a cup of tea, sitting with someone in hospital, or even taking a walk around the block means so much for those who speak “be with me.”

Fifth, “physical touch.”  In this language, physical connection, such as a hand on a grieving friend’s shoulder or a simple handshake communicates love for those who speak “touch.”

Tell, serve, give, be, touch. Verbs of love.

Jesus asks us all, “do you love me?” and invites us to “tend my sheep,” to show our love, perhaps through words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time or physical touch.  And in so doing, we are restored. We have purpose.

God, through the Risen Christ, met and loved Peter right where he was. And that love inspired Peter to live his way into a new way of thinking, rather than think his way into a new way of living.[2] 

Today, Jesus gets up and at ‘em and forgives us– and more – he loves us, restores us and gives us purpose.  We the impetuous, clueless, head-strong ones who God entrusts to “feed my sheep,” to show God’s Love.

Jesus gets up and at ‘em and jumps into our pool – the pool of our life, individually and communally – our family, our work, our play, our callings, our worries, our quirks.  Today, Jesus’ love inspires us to get up & at ‘em and jump into the pool – the pool of God’s realm, the pool of the Jesus movement. 

May we all, today, jump in – whether in fishing clothes or pajamas – for the Love of God. 

Amen

---

[1] Gary Chapman, The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts, (Northfield Publishing, Chicago, 1992)

[2] Richard Rohr, “We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking,” as quoted in several of his books, including Falling Upwards and Everything Belongs.