Lectionary Readings for Sunday, November 11, 2007

Lectionary Readings for Sunday, November 11, 2007

Haggai 1:15b-2:9 with Psalm 145:1-5, 17-21 or Psalm 98 or
Job 19:23-27a with Psalm 17:1-9 and
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17 and
Luke 20:27-38

Life has a language.
And scripture has a word for us.

It is a word of blessing.

It has the easy and assuring cadence of a benediction that sums up the sermon, the prayers, the liturgy, the music, the tears and the laughter of congregants before sending them forth to live their lives.

Like all blessings it is marked by connection, wrapped in hope and speaks of coherence, assuring us that there is a purpose in life, that meaning can be found, that chaos has met its match when we stand fast, give thanks, and trust in life.

Paul's words to the congregation in Thessalonia could not be more heart-felt:

But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth. For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.

Note how beautifully life speaks.

We give thanks. The construction is plural. We, in our families, in our churches, in our networks of friends, we give thanks.

We give thanks to you, once again the construction is plural, addressed to brothers and sisters.

We are beloved by the Lord, God reaches out to us, once again the plural is embraced because God embraced us.

We have been called according to a purpose. There is order and meaning in nothing less than creation itself.

We have been asked to act by standing firm in the teachings that keep life alive in both what we say and in what we do.

Is there anything more beautiful than the opening of a church doors on a Sunday morning? I think not. The church is quiet, one person comes in, then two, then six, then soon the stillness of a quiet sanctuary fills with a wave of gentle conversation. We are gathered, we are met, we are waiting to renew our lives once again.

We know there are many who carry heavy burdens, and we know that we do not know what they all are.

I reflect on this week's accidental conversations as I rode the train across Montana and North Dakota before arriving at my destination here in Wisconsin. They were the conversations of life:

A man from Mississippi who works on an oilrig off the coast of Angola says he is not surprised at all that nooses have made an unwelcome appearance. "They've never gone away," he says. What "should be" is not, and what "should not be" is.

A mother whose daughter struggles through addiction and has yet to find a lasting serenity can't help but cry as she also knows what "should be" is "not yet."

A woman whose father has wondered if a radiation treatment is worth it as she wonders how to be a loving daughter from so very far away.

A kid, maybe 20 or so, who graduated from boot camp, not the army or the marines but the prison's boot camp and says he is "done with drugs" as he orders two beers at ten in the morning and downs them beside me as the train makes its way down the Mississippi River.

These are the conversations of your church. These are the conversations of people whose lives are emerging with awareness that there is no room for pretend. If there is to be a blessing it must meet the hard reality of two green bottles, a noose, cancer cells that have yet to take no for an answer, and addictions that speak of death rather than life.

A kind word is good.

But a blessing is better.

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.

We rely not on an ethereal presence but on Jesus Christ (the one who helps, the name means) himself.

And if such a presence cannot be discerned, or has faded away or been eclipsed by circumstance, then God who took action and first loved us.

We rely on a blessing that gives strength (com . . . fort) to our hearts, the seat of discernment that gives us courage as we speak and as we act to begin our lives anew.

There is no pretend here.

There is no pretend in your congregation either as you speak or as you share a word of life. It is all a matter of blessing that can only come from others. We cannot bless ourselves, but we can bless each other and recognize that once, long ago, and perhaps again this very sabbath, we are blessed by the love of God, one of whose names in Hebrew is LIFE.

If I may I end with a personal note. It was November 11 that my first life came to an end as a stroke washed away the billions of cells that once said, "This is who you are." Those who remain have asked, "And who are you to be?" And so, Paul's words apply to the boot camp kid beside me, the mother across from me, the father weighing his life, and to me with a poignancy that can only be born from the crucible of experience.

Blessings to you and thanks be to God for the privilege of conversation that will surely arise in the life of your church and aboard tonight's train bound for Montana.

Larry

I welcome your response to these columns. I may be reached at:
Larry@Leadingcausesoflife.org
or
Larrypray@gmail.com