Maundy Thursday: On This Night We Weep

Maundy Thursday

1 April 2010

Bethesda United Church of Christ

Bethesda, MD


On This Night We Weep

Based on John 13:1-15, 31-35 & 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

James Semmelroth Darnell

“Why is this night different from all other nights?” This is the famous question asked at the Jewish Passover seder, when Jews celebrate that God passed over their homes when bringing plagues upon the Egyptians. The gospels disagree as to the exact day during Passover when the Last Supper occurred, so that we cannot be sure if it was indeed a seder meal. But nonetheless, for us, this night is different from all other nights. It is the night in which Jesus gathered his disciples for their last meal together. It is the night in which Jesus gives us the new commandment to love one another as he has loved us. It is the night in which he will be betrayed with a kiss. It is the night in which he will sweat blood in praying in the garden. It is the night when the disciples cannot keep watch with him. It is the night when Peter, the rock, will deny him. It is the night when he will be arrested by the police and chief priests. It is the eve of the Lord’s death—an excruciating death, a humiliating death, brutally nailed, naked on the cross of Calvary. Tomorrow his body will be broken and his blood will be shed, but tonight, he waits.
St. John gives us a great gift missed in all the other gospels. It is only in this gospel that we get Jesus’ extensive final address to the disciples—better than any after-dinner speech. From it we get “Do not let your hearts be troubled…in my Father’s house there are many mansions” ; “I am in the Father and the Father is in me”; “I will not leave you orphaned,”; “I am the vine, you are the branches,”; “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for his friends,”; “Now I am going to him who sent me,”; “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth,”; “A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me,”; and “The hour is coming, indeed it has come when you will be scattered, each to his own home…but take courage; I have conquered the world!” Four chapters long, it contains some of the most spiritually rich passages in the entire Scripture, where Jesus offers at length who he is for us. But we find ourselves entering St. John’s account of the last night at the very beginning of the evening. We are told that, “Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father” and that Judas had already decided to betray Jesus, and that Jesus knew it too. Yet, Jesus does not begin by addressing the betrayal to come, but he kneels down with a water basin and washes the feet of his disciples. Peter, like us, is so well-intentioned but once again misses the point. First he refuses to let Jesus wash his feet (and I very much doubt it’s the same squeamishness and respectability that makes us shy away from footwashing), but then demands that Jesus wash his hands and head as well. Jesus explains this washing saying, “So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.”

St. Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth also gives us a glimpse of the last night. St. Paul’s words are familiar—they are the ones often used as the words of institution for the Lord’s Supper. They are the very closest we get to the Last Supper, as they are the earliest account of it, predating St. John’s account by at least a generation. Tradition tells us that one of the original 12 disciples gave him the very description he recounts to the church. It is from this place we remember this Last Supper, which included bread and wine, but is more, the very broken body and shed blood of the Lord Christ. St. Paul writes to Corinth in the midst of a church dispute over some eating their fill at the communion meal, some even becoming drunk, while others went away hungry. He implores the Corinthian Church: “Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves.”

So footwashing and the Eucharist, how are they linked? We are told they both occur this night, but what is their common significance for us, on the night when Jesus will be betrayed. In both texts Jesus commands to do as he—to show love as in the footwashing, and to relive the meal of the Lord’s Supper. In the end of our passage from St. John, Jesus tells the disciples, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” This is not simply a feel-good love of being nice to one another that often masquerades as Christian discipleship. This is the same love that led Jesus to the cross. Jesus knew the fate that awaited him. He even hints to the beloved disciple at the meal that Judas will betray him. He could have high-tailed it out of Jerusalem. Yet, Jesus courageously stays, and awaits the scourging, the whipping, the beating, the crown of thorns, and the excruciating agony of the nails piercing his hands and feet. As the gospel tells us, it is because “Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father.” Christ’s blood is shed for us –and because of us. Christ’s body is broken for us—and because of us. It is the very love of God for God’s creation—and the loving desire to redeem all from aimlessness and sin. God in Christ calls us to the same sacrificial love that knows no boundary. This is not love for the faint of heart. The disciples had no idea, but they would share in this love in much the same way. St. James, son of Zebedee, is beheaded in 44 AD. St. Philip is crucified in 54 AD. St. Matthew is killed by a spear in 60 AD. St. Peter is crucified upside-down in 64 AD. St. Thomas is killed by a spear in India in 72 AD. St. Simon is crucified in 74 AD. St. Andrew is crucified on a diagonal cross. St. Bartholomew is flayed alive and then beheaded. St. James, son of Alphaeus, was clubbed to death after stoning. St. Jude was crucified. St. Matthias was stoned and beheaded. St. John is the only apostle thought to die of old age. This is love that risks everything, up to the point of death. While today most of us will never face death for our faith, Jesus still calls us to stand boldly, to love one another as he has loved us. We are called to bow ourselves to wash each others feet, to bring healing and transformation in our world, to call each other away from sin and to wholeness, and love God passionately and unashamedly. This is love that says no to the powers and principalities; love that says no to violence; love that says no to evil; love that says no to greed; love that says no to hatred; love that says no to death. “Were the whole realm of nature ours, that would be an offering far too small; love so amazing, so divine, demands our souls, our lives, our all.”While we follow and come to his table, to grow in his love, we weep for this night we know where Christ’s unending love and our shortcoming will lead tomorrow.

Former United Church of Christ General Minister and President John H. Thomas once asked a question I will never forget. He asked, “Do we love Jesus more than the lure of respectability?” He describes it this way:
Respectable religion fears transgressing the rules. It guards the door and is always “well-behaved.” Evangelical faith [that is, a faith of the Good News] knows that the love of God and the love of neighbor ultimately trumps both the authority of the canons and the clerics, and will not stand for bouncers or ejector seats in our churches.
Respectable religion is afflicted with terminal politeness. It will never risk offending, even with the truth. Evangelical faith rises up with outrage on behalf of the poor and oppressed and violated in our world who are left out, left alone, left behind.

It’s respectable to love ourselves above and beyond anyone else. It’s respectable and acceptable in our society to even love things above others. It’s not respectable to take off each other’s shoes, to kneel down, and wash each other’s feet as a sign of our love through the Wounded One. It’s not respectable to wear a symbol of state execution around our necks. It’s not respectable to talk and preach and teach about how God breaks all the rules society tells us to follow, to the point of death on a cross as a lowly criminal in order to redeem all of humanity. But we’re not called to be respectable. Jesus calls us – he tells us – he demands of us, to follow him, to be willing to give it all up, to risk everything to live as God’s people, not matter what may happen to us. My Lenten discipline this season has been to re-read the catechisms of the United Church of Christ. They are a tremendous library of spiritual sustenance. The Evangelical Catechism prays, “Lord Jesus, to Thee I live; to Thee I suffer; to Thee I die; Thine I am, in death and in life; save and bless me, O Saviour, for ever and ever.” As we come to the Lord’s Table this night may this be our prayer. With all the saints, truly let us proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

To God alone be the glory + Soli Deo Gloria + Allein Gott in der Hoeh sei Ehr

Young Adults and the UCC

Lately I've been hearing a lot of rumblings through the church about how studies show the values of young adults align with the "values" of the United Church of Christ, and how this will help us turn the tide on the decline of the denomination.

I have served in a variety of leadership roles in every setting of the UCC. I have been a member/employee of congregations that were Congregational, Evangelical Synod, post-merger, and ecumenical. They variously have been conservative, moderate, liberal, and progressive. One of these congregations is one of the largest churches in the denomination, another is one of the smallest, another has left the UCC altogether. It is from this perspective as a young adult leader that I write.

There are inherent problems with using the argument that the United Church of Christ's values matching with those of young adults will save the denomination.

The first is that, to paraphrase another young church leader, young adults are not the savior of the United Church of Christ, Jesus Christ is. He is the sole head of the church and the sole savior of the church.

Another problem is who declares what the values of the United Church of Christ. What is the source of these values--scripture, tradition, history, the Statement of Faith, the Constitution, General Synod, the Collegium, progressive Christianity, the Democratic Party? The fact is, we have no declared set of values--and what is valued in each setting is different.

But the core problem with this argument is that by and large, even when young adults somehow learn that their values are a match with the United Church of Christ generally, there is no place for them in most congregations. Most of our established congregations don't know what to do with people between the ages of 18 and 40. And too often the solution is to send those young people to assist in the nursery or Sunday School--after all, if a church has small children the kids are closer in age to the young adults than most others. While I greatly appreciate what tends to be equated as traditional worship, it has ceased to speak to the lives of many young people. Few congregations provide support for campus ministries, but young adults who do not attend college are completely forgotten. The support that young adult clergy and seminarians receive from the denomination is paltry at best, not to mention their treatment by older colleagues. But lay young adults receive little to no support for their own leadership development.

How to address all these things? I think it's key for leaders of our parents and grandparents' generation to think about why their children have left the church. If they had valid reasons, why do they expect other people's children to take their place? Also key is to ask why even those who were vital youth and young adult leaders have left the church. I know too many people who have served and serve on national boards and committees, but have ceased attending any church. This is no judgment on those people--but for the churches which have rejected their leadership and not even attempted to be relevant.

It's time to stop hemming and hawing about why the UCC is in decline--mainline families don't have as many children, we've lost people because of our brave justice stands. Yes, that's true--but it's a small piece. At the center is that somehow people of all ages, but particularly young adults have not felt their spiritual needs met in our congregations.

It's time to face facts--if things don't radically change in the next ten years there will be a major leadership crisis in the denomination. There are simply not enough young clergy and laity to serve our 5,000+ congregations, many of which are on the verge of closure. For too long we have relied on second-career clergy (not to disparage their service), which has helped delay the coming crisis--but their retirement will come and in many places there will be too few people to carry on their mantle. The denomination must become serious about recruiting young adults into the ministry and life of our church.

This all comes from someone who deeply loves the United Church of Christ. Yes, we are flawed. But I also find great hope in our tradition, and do believe if we have the courage to transform into an anti-ageist church our future will be a glorious one.

Geoffrey Black said in a recent interview he was hopeful about the UCC's future because of young adult leadership, and the we will be fine if we 'play our cards right.' So how can the United Church of Christ play its cards right?

House for All

I've been researching a "Luthermergent" congregation for my course paper. House for All Sinners and Saints (what a great name!)is an emergent, Lutheran congregation in Denver. The congregation is an enigma in some ways. The pastor, while young and hip with tattoo sleeves, is deeply rooted in Lutheran theology. Their worship includes acapella Gregorian chant, the psalter, oh so trendy candles, and a straight-out sermon. No "time for community reflection," but an old-school sermon. However, the worship has other space for reflection, including various prayer stations. It's a unique mix of the very old traditions with emergent flavor. The congregation is even housed in a former Lutheran church building that has been the home of a Native American organization for decades. The majority of the members don't come from liturgical traditions--but are coming and finding them relevant. How cool is that? Talk about breathing life into something. And, its a congregation that is very explicit about its welcome of queer people. One of my apprehensions about the emerging church has been that at least from a distance it seems like a lot of emerging churches might look appealing to LGBT persons, but the theology of sexuality is just a retread of what we've heard over and over again. It's refreshing to find this church that intersects with the mainline, that brings new life into liturgical practice, and unashamedly welcomes queer folk. Just the idea excites me. I can't help but think, why isn't there a place like this in DC?

Mite-y Stewards

23rd Sunday after Pentecost
8 November 2009
Bethesda United Church of Christ
Bethesda, MD

“Mite-y Stewards”
Based on Mark 12: 38-44
As he taught, he said, ‘Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, 39and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honour at banquets! 40They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.’ 41 -->
The Widow’s Offering
41 He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43Then he called his disciples and said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 44For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.’

By James Semmelroth Darnell

We hear this passage about the same time every year. It’s stewardship season—time to think about how you’ll support the church financially and make your pledge. So the widow and her mite are trotted out to guilt you into giving a bit more. In all likelihood, if you’ve been around the church, this church or most any others, you’re pretty sure what you’re going to hear in the next few moments. Well, due to my contrarian nature, I’m just going to have to disappoint you.
The traditional interpretation of this text—that Jesus is lauding the woman for giving all that she had to live on versus those who gave out of their abundance—fails to take into account the social and economic context of the widow, the disciples, and of Jesus himself. This text takes place in the midst of Holy Week. Jesus’ triumphant was past, and he had thrown over the tables of the moneychangers in the temple. He continues his critique of the temple leaders in this passage saying that they “for the sake of appearance say long prayers.” Richard Horsley and Neil Asher Silberman describe this situation in their book The Message and the Kingdom:
The villagers of Galilee were instructed to set aside a significant portion of their produce for priestly tithes, first-fruits offerings and various other sacred donations for the Temple in Jerusalem. By the first century every Israelite male was required to make an annual contribution of a half-shekel to the Temple. And even in seasons when drought or blight severely limited harvest, the tax collectors and priestly representatives still turned up at the local threshing floors and olive presses to make sure that every family contributed their due. Penalties for non-payment could be severe and violent when the farmers of a particular village or region did not willingly yield up the lion’s share of their harvest to satisfy the demands of the official representatives of the Jerusalem Temple.

So, in all likelihood this widow was not willfully giving all that she had to live on. She gave because to not give to the Temple was a greater risk. It is no coincidence that Jesus first says the scribes “devours widow’s houses,” and then sees the widow give her share. Indeed had the widow not given, the Temple leaders very well could have taken her house. It becomes quite probable then that the traditional interpretation of this text of Jesus lauding the woman is incorrect, and rather more likely that he laments the abuse of power and authority that forces this widow to give all that she has to live on. The Temple, which was supposed to care for the widows and orphans, exploited them instead.
This week I couldn’t help but think how some voters treated their gay, lesbian and bisexual brothers and sisters like this widow. You see, lesbian, gay, and bisexual people in Maine all pay their taxes, and yet they are exploited by 299, 483 of their neighbors. The state allowed the majority to determine the rights of the minority—and the minority nearly almost always loses, but the minority still feeds money into the system. And here in the Washington, DC metro area—a supposed bastion of liberalism, in the past month there have been three anti-gay attacks against Georgetown University students. In August, a transgender woman was stabbed to death on an open street in daylight in Northwest DC. Last September, a gay man in Washington was fatally beaten in Adams Morgan, dying 10 days after the attack. The murderer, last month, was charge with a misdemeanor and was sentenced to a mere 180 days in prison. There is a popular myth that this will solve itself in a generation; that young people don’t care about sexual orientation, are fine with their gay and bisexual peers. But every attacker in each of the previous incidents was under the age of 30. The two 11 year-old boys, Jaheem Herrera of Atlanta and Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover of Boston, who both committed suicide earlier this year because of anti-gay bullying would tell you otherwise. In fact, here in our own metro area, 30% of gay and lesbian teens report having attempted suicide—compared to 13% of their peers. This is not a generational issue, and that myth needs dispelled for once and all. Just last week, two men were beaten in a hate crime by a 23 year-old who told the police, “God made me hate gay people.” These victims, the same-sex couples of Maine and the other 30 states where our neighbors have decided our rights for us, are the widows.
It would be easy to point fingers at the Roman Catholic bishops and Mormon leaders who have often fueled fights against same-sex marriage, and say, “These are the scribes Jesus warns against.” Of course, I agree that they have done a great deal of harm in the name of the Prince of Peace and have sometimes exhibited the characteristics of the scribes Jesus railed against. But, we need to hold up a mirror to ourselves as well. As much as we would like to identify with the widow in this passage, or at least be in solidarity with her, the reality of most of our lives tells a different story. Dr. Henry Langknecht, a professor at Trinity Lutheran Seminary writes:
Most of us North American Christians are the scribes of verses 38-40. Even when we live simply, we enjoy products and infrastructures whose provision devours the lives of the poor in the world. And no length of prayers can hide us and our love of what we have and what we've accomplished. Whether we live simply or not, we do like to be noticed by others... even if what we like to be noticed for is how hard we try not to be noticed. There is no way to untangle us from our complicity (certainly no simple way) but we can and must, in Christ, bear the "greater condemnation" of honest judgment and discernment. We've already heard from Jesus that salvation for the rich is only possible because of God.

Whether we like it or not, most of us benefit from the exploitation of the widow. One needs only look into the parking lot at the automobiles parked there to see which classes we as a community draw from. It is a hard thing to look ourselves squarely in the mirror and confront our own hypocrisy and hear Jesus saying, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” But, if we preach compassion and justice, we have to live it too. That means facing up to the ways we benefit from the oppression of the minority—and being willing to let go of that privilege for the sake of the Kingdom of God. Martin Luther in his wisdom said, “The fewer the words, the better the prayer.” Indeed, our prayer should simply be, “Forgive us, Lord.”
This passage really is about stewardship. Now, you’re probably thinking---wait, he just said it wasn’t about Jesus commending the widow’s stewardship. Correct you are! Despite the mis-interpretation of this text, it is still about money. Now, I know money is supposed to be a bad word in the church. But, it is not a four-letter word, no matter how you count it. Money matters. Rather, this passage is about a broader vision of stewardship. The scribes were supposed to be the stewards of their religious tradition. But they got mired in the rule of law and enamored with the power that they could wield as religious leaders. Surely none of us has ever gone to an event in order to be seen with the right people, or wanted to be out in front where we’ll be noticed. I once interned at a Congregational United Church of Christ in the Chicago area that instead of a cross in the middle of its chancel, had organ pipes. Fake organ pipes—to make the organ, and I suppose the congregation itself seem more impressive than it really was. But, none of us would ever try to boast who we are, or our congregation for that matter. And of course we’ve never prayed prayers like this: “Dear God, thank you that we are not like those people.” Well…maybe once. It is just as easy to fall into a liberal fundamentalism of having all the right answers, of being more enlightened, as it is to be a conservative fundamentalist. We are stewards of our own Christian tradition, and as we find our roots in the tradition of the scribes, we should not be surprised at having some of the same impulses as they. But, when we see those impulses, and when we feel them in ourselves, we are to remember Jesus’ warning against such behavior. He calls us to resist the temptation to become gatekeepers, but to be faithful stewards of a religious tradition that is open, flexible to changing times, and transformative of the world around.
We are more than stewards of just a tradition of faith. We are to be stewards of that very faith. God calls us in each generation to translate the faith anew, and to share the Good News with both the ancient words passed down to us from the prophets, apostles, martyrs, patriarchs, and matriarchs; and with fresh expressions that speak boldly to the rapid pace of our ever-changing world. We are stewards—and yes this takes money, to proclaim the Good News in our local communities and communities far distant from us—of the faith in Jesus Christ, who taught, healed, was crucified, died, rose again, and lives yet today. The grace and peace of God we find in all this—we are share this with new generations of followers of Jesus as faithful stewards.
We are stewards of all the time, talent, and yes money that is entrusted to us in this community. The widow was forced to contribute to the Temple, which was bound by covenant to protect her as one of the most vulnerable in society, yet the Temple made her more vulnerable and exploited her. As good stewards we must work to ensure that all our gifts are used to enable us to 1) follow Jesus, and 2) transform the world. Following Jesus means being in relationship with him and with God, through prayer, worship, studying the Bible, and sharing God’s love. We transform the world by simply living as Jesus has taught us to, which isn’t so simple in a world which values greed over compassion and power over humility. But, a first step is to acknowledge, what one author famously calls the “knapsack of privilege” and letting go of it. We give our money as faithful stewards, in order that others might find the Way of Jesus and that we can work to transform the world. Nationally, we contribute to the United Church of Christ general fund known as Our Church’s Wider Mission. Our Church’s Wider Mission supports a vast array of ministries that seek to achieve this transformation—sending missionaries at the request of our partner churches across the world, fostering ecumenical dialogue with sister denominations, funding new churches and revitalizing existing churches, advocating on our behalf on a wide variety of social justice issues from the Washington Office on Capitol Hill, ensuring the financial stability of historically black colleges and universities related to the UCC, responding to natural disasters at home and across the wider world, training and equipping youth and young adults to be 21st century leaders, and many other things. In fact, just last weekend I was in Cleveland, our UCC “Vatican,” for a board meeting where we were told of a new justice leadership training program, that will train 300 justice leaders for congregations across the United Church of Christ. This is your stewardship at work, following Jesus, and transforming the world.
Good stewardship isn’t about the widow being forced to give to the Temple. Good stewardship is about releasing people from the oppressive chains that force them to support the very institutions that put them in chains. Tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. My brothers and sisters at my home church gathered last Monday to commemorate this, marching from the church to Kogan Plaza. What a gift for them, especially those who fled East Germany as refugees, to celebrate this day. Yet, 20 years later too many walls remain. Walls of class are stronger each day. Walls of racism, though often subtle, and increasingly less so, remain firm. Walls of religious discrimination are tainted with the blood of our religious wars. Walls of sexism stand over those who have not been able to break the glass ceiling. Walls of homophobia legislate who can marry whom. Walls of ageism keep young people seen and not heard and the elderly’s wisdom silent. Walls that divide us. Walls that foster hatred, and greed, and lust for power and wealth. This is the only time you will ever hear me quote Ronald Reagan, “Tear down that wall!” Tear it down friends with all your mite, for Christ calls us, and that is good stewardship.

James Douglas Darnell: Funeral Homily

Service of Death and Resurrection

James Douglas Darnell

(20 September 1925 - 28 September 2009)

Homily

Based on John 14: 1-3, 15-27 and Revelation 21: 1-6

2 October 2009

James Douglas Darnell was born in Danville, Illinois on September 20, 1925. He was born into a family of 10 children in the midst of the poverty of the Great Depression. This experience of rural poverty shaped him, as a hard-working, frugal, and resourceful man. He met and married the love of his life, Eleanor June Huffman in 1942 at age 16. As a young man he was drafted into the Army, to serve in World War II. Jim and Eleanor became the parents of June and Jimmy. He worked for many years as a steamfitter for Peoria Housing, before retiring in 1987. In retirement, he loved to fish and tend to his yard. While his body in recent years grew weaker and frailer, his mind remained sharp until the last few months of his life.

Those are the fa

cts. But, my grandfather was more than that. While he was not without prejudice and could be a harsh man, particularly to his own son, he was at heart a fun-loving, gentle man. His joking spirit endeared him to many who crossed paths with him. He was a sharp wit and always had a joke to offer. Almost none of them are appropriate here—but I will offer this one…He was also a caring and loving man. My mother tells the story of when she was mowing the lawn while 7 months pregnant with me. He had come over to the house to fix something, and upon seeing my mother he ordered my father take over saying, “You mow that lawn before she drops that baby over the side of that hill.” Even when scolding, he did it with his classic sense of humor. He of course was known for a few phrases he always used. He once told me that one particular first lady was “so ugly, she didn’t get hit by the ugly stick, she got hit by the ugly tree.” Of course, he was known, for whenever someone asked how he was doing, he’d always say, “Still on the right side of the grass.”

The relationship of grandparent to grandchild is a special and unique one. Grandparents are often given the freedom to spoil their grandchildren, to offer their wisdom, and sometimes be a more gentler self than they were as parents. Grandpa was this to me. He shared so much with his grandchildren. He loved to fish and shared this passion with my sister and I. On one memorable trip, while he was driving I was reading a book in the back of the truck. “Why are you reading, we’re going fishin’!” he exclaimed. We got to the spot, put out our lines, and sat. And we waited for a bite. And waited some more. We waited for what seemed in my child’s mind an interminable time, until he finally said, “Well you might as well get that book!” Of course, not all fishing trips were like this, and I treasure the photo of me holding my first catch from our first fishing trip together. He shared with us the comedy of Red Skelton, Jack Benny, Laurel and Hardy, and the music of Johnny Cash and Roger Miller. One of my favorite childhood memories is watching Laurel and Hardy, Our Gang, and others with Grandpa after school. He did not share emotions very often, but it was always clear that he loved his family very much. When I was in junior high, for a school assignment I interviewed him and asked what the best day of his life was, and his response was the day that his daughter June was born. A few months ago, when my mother, sister and I went to see him in the nursing home he told us how beautiful we were. It could have been the drugs talking, but he made his love clear to us.

While not a devout man, he was a faithful man. We were having a religious discussion once and he paraphrased the Gospel passage we just heard, that “the Lord has many mansions and there’s room for all of us.” That is something I will never forget. It is a simple, but profound truth: that God has room for all of us. God’s love is expansive enough, God’s grace is deep enough, God’s welcome is broad enough for all people. Grandpa was sure that he was going to heaven and be with his departed brothers, sisters, and daughter. He once said to me, “Everyone wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die to do it!” But near the end, he was ready. He accepted that his earthly life was coming to an end. In fact, not too long ago while Jenna and Granny were visiting with him at the nursing home he told them, “I just want the good Lord to come and take me.” It was difficult these past few years to watch his strength and zest for life slip away as his body grew increasingly frail. Now, while we are glad that his pain is ended, we grieve deeply, the loss, the emptiness, that his death leaves in our lives. But as Christians, even in the midst of grief, we rejoice that while our beloved’s earthly life is over, his eternal life has just begun. He has gone home, yes to be with other departed family members, but more importantly, to be with his Lord. An old hymn, I’m Going Home says:

Farewell, vain world! I'm going home!
My savior smiles and bids me come,
And I don't care to stay here long!
Sweet angels beckon me away,
To sing God's praise in endless day,
And I don't care to stay here long!

(Chorus:)
Right up yonder, Christians, away up yonder,
O, yes my Lord, for I don't care to stay here long.

I'm glad that I am born to die,
From grief and woe my soul shall fly,
And I don't care to stay here long!
Bright angels shall convey me home,
Away to New Jerusalem,
And I don't care to stay here long!

We were blessed with many good years to enjoy our friend, husband, father, and grandfather. We give thanks to God for those years in which Grandpa blessed us with love and laughter. We too give thanks that he has joined the communion of saints in heaven above. In the communion liturgy of the United Church of Christ it said

With patriarchs and prophets, apostles and martyrs; with the Holy Church throughout all the world; with the heavenly Jerusalem, the joyful assembly and congregation of the firstborn on high; with the innumerable company of angels round about thy throne, the heaven of heavens, and all the powers therein; we will worship and adore thy glorious Name, joining in the song of the Cherubim and Seraphim: Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of the majesty of they glory. Hosanna in the highest!

So, we are comforted that with that joyful assembly, that with the matriarchs and patriarchs, prophets, apostles, angels, and martyrs, with the Holy Mother, St. Joseph, Sts. Peter and Paul, St. Francis, and all the saints, our beloved sings praise in God’s very presence. We can take hope in the very same passage he paraphrased to me several years ago. Hear again the words of Scripture:

Jesus said to the disciples, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. ²In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? ³And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.

Jesus promises us that he goes before us to prepare a place for us in heaven. Jesus tells the disciples and speaks to us even to us today, that we will go where he goes. That is, we will die as Jesus died. But, we will also be raised in a resurrection like his. Later in the passage Jesus says:

”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. ¹⁹In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.

The Lord of Life tells us that he will not leave us. Though he leaves the earth, we are still under his care, and we are promised new life in Jesus Christ. Jesus closes his speech to the disciples saying, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” These are comforting but difficult words. Yes, we want the Peace of Christ. Yes, the promise of Heaven, praising God, singing with the angels is glorious and beyond all human imagination. But in the midst of our grief, it is so hard to not be afraid. When a person so central to one’s life is gone, it is hard to imagine how we will go on. There are no platitudes, no passages of Scripture that will end our grief. It is a slow, painful process of readjusting to a new life in which our beloved is not present with us, but with God. The Heidelberg Catechism, written in 1563, opens with the question, “What is your only comfort in life and in death?” The answer to which, is, “That I am not my own, but belong body and soul, to my faithful savior Jesus Christ.” These ancient words are still true. Because we belong to Jesus we have hope. Because James Douglas Darnell belonged body and soul, not to himself, but to his precious Lord, we have hope. We give thanks that he is in his heavenly home and we pray for the day we will join him.

We have comfort too, that one day, Jesus Christ will bring about the Kingdom of God, that he will reign on earth as in heaven. The vision of St. John in the Book of Revelation says:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. ²And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. ³And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
‘See, the home^* of God is among mortals.
He will dwell^* with them;
they will be his peoples,^*
and God himself will be with them;^*
4he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’

5 And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ ⁶Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.

What a beautiful, powerful vision, on this day on which we shed so many tears, that God will be with us, that every tear will be wiped from our eyes, that death will be no more. As Christians, our hope, our very lives, points to this—that we strive for justice and peace, so that one day Christ will return, and heaven and earth will pass away, and God will dwell with us in the Holy City.

In the United Church of Christ, there is a phrase that says, “Never place a period where God has placed a comma.” That means that we believe God is still on the move, still healing, still reconciling, still calling us to something better. Above all, it means that we believe that when the world places a period in our lives, God puts a comma. When you are discounted, God counts you in. When society locks you out, the doors to God’s house are open wide for you. The resurrection is the ultimate comma. The powers that be thought they were putting a period on Jesus’ ministry of love and compassion when they stripped, flogged, whipped, and crucified Jesus onto the cross. But God is more powerful than any Roman centurion, than Pilate, than any Pharisee—and God said no to violence and death, he placed a period on evil. God said yes to grace and mercy, love and hope, and placed a comma on Jesus’s ministry of healing and reconciliation, he placed a comma in each one of our lives. God says to us this day, death is not the end. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German Protestant martyr who resisted the Third Reich until he was killed by the Nazis in the waning days of the war, his last words before being hung were, “This is the end, for me, the beginning of life.” We mark an end today, which we grieve. But today, we also rejoice, for it is a beginning of life—so perfectly evidenced to us in the gift of Haley Savannah Williamson. Little Haley was Grandpa’s only great-grandchild, born less than a week before he greatgrandpa passed away. They each were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of each other before he left us. And surely, she will know him in the stories we will tell, and the jokes we will share.

Brothers and sisters, hear the Good News: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. God has transformed death. God has taken the cross—a symbol of death by execution, and turned it into a symbol of love, of hope, and of new life. Rejoice today, in the midst of your tears, for that gift.

In closing, hear these ancient words:

The strife is o’er, the battle done;
The victory of life is won;
The song of triumph has begun: Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

The powers of death have done their worst;
But Christ their legions hath dispersed;
Let shouts of holy joy outburst: Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

The three sad days are quickly sped;
He rises glorious from the dead;
All glory to our risen Head! Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

He closed the yawning gates of hell;
The bars from heaven’s high portals fell;
Let hymns of praise His triumphs tell! Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee,
From death’s dread sting Thy servants free,
That we may live, and sing to Thee: Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Blessing and honor, glory and honor, be unto God. Amen.

Who Feeds You?

The question during class today was "Who feeds you" in your work in the ministry and church. This is a good question for me right now. Lately I've been feeling very frustrated with the catty-ness and controlling nature of some church people, and wondering about my place in the

system. I love my church, but boy do I have days where I'd

like to escape! So, it is good to focus on some of the folks who inspire me, make me want to be a good minister and future pastor, and give me nourishment

Elda Gardiner and Pam Gardiner Enger--They're the two women pictured above. Elda is 96 and has been a church member since 1939 when she moved to Washington. She came as a young woman, having grown up in Missouri, and spoke Low German at home. At church she was active in the Young People's League, and later chaired United Church Women for many years. Pam, Elda's daughter, was raised in the church, confirmed, and married there. She served as church president during the 80's. When Pam married in the 90's, she and her husband moved to Wisconsin where she became active in a UCC there. But she loyally comes back to visit every year. Last year, Elda moved to Wisconsin with Pam to be cared for there. But they are 'home' for several weeks this fall, and the photo above is of them serving at our Fall Sale a few weeks ago. The

y inspire me because they are so faithful and loyal to their faith community. They have seen it through good times and bad, through several pastors, a church merger, and a changing neighborhood.

George Madill (on the right)--George is the son of a United Methodist Elder and a long-time member of the church. I sit on church council with him, as he's the chair of the Outreach Committee. For over 25 years George has selflessly given of himself to the Foggy Bottom Food Pantry. The Food Pantry is run out of our church on a shoestring budget, with George leading and guiding it along. He is a faithful, caring, compassionate soul, and has made the Foo

d Pantry the very heart of the congregation.

John Seitz (on the left)--John is a character. I like to call him our resident theologian and wit. He is probably the most well-read person in the congregation, especially theologically. He thinks very deeply about theology and the church, and will often ask the most insightful questions about sermons. He is also a fabulous pun-maker. I adore his title for my sermon on the loaves & fishes and Peter walking on water: "Fed Up and All Wet, or When Loaves and Waves Collide." He is the type of person who makes ministry fun and worth it.

The Council for Youth and Young Adult Ministries--I sat on this UCC committee for two years. The people I served with, and those who have followed are dedicated groups of young people, committed to calling the church accountability to its responsibility for youth and young adult ministry. A diverse group geographically, theologically, racially, sexually--they inspire me because this is the kind of leadership that will carry the United Church of Christ forward into the next generation with, as the former UCC president put it, evangelical courage and extravagant welcome.

I'm Going Home

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5g1UHZwN3ds