[Propertalk] Fw: And Jesus Will Be Our Friend - sermon for April 11 based on gospel lesson

[Joe Parrish]

Forwarded:

Note #32873 from FRANK FISHER to PROPERTALK:


Here's my sermon for Sunday based on the Gospel lesson. The idea came from
my son explaining the resurrection to me.


__

Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB
www.ffisher.net
Interim Pastor
First Presbyterian Church of Kewanee, IL
Elmira United Presbyterian Church


Council Member of the Associaton of Presbyterian Interim Ministry
Specialists
www.apims.org

aka

Brother Oscar Romero
Oblate of St. Benedict's Abbey
Bartonville, IL
www.SBAbbey.com


"When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so
that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."-Cherokee proverb


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You're two months old
and you're being held securely
in your mother's arms.
She has to hold on to you
with a pretty good grip today
because you're not all that happy
about this starchy, white, outfit
she's crammed you into.
But no matter how much you squirm or protest
you're not getting out of it
because today
is the day of your Baptism.

You start to squirm
even harder
when your mother, and father
carry you down a long aisle
to a strange place
where you're surrounded
by strange people.

You've almost settled down
when they hand you over to a total stranger.
That doesn't suit you at all
and you open your mouth wide
to tell the world about it.
But your screech of fear's cut short
when the stranger begins to pour water
over your head.

Still sputtering
you're handed back
into the relative security
of your mother's familiar arms.
She cradles you snugly
and calms all your fears.
And although no one can see them,
you're now also held
 by another
 set of arms.

You're wrapped in the arms of a Friend
who will securely hold you.
The arms of a Friend
who will be with you
throughout every fear and terror
of your life.
The arms of a Friend
who will one day
carry you to where no fear or terror
 can ever follow.

You're ten years old.
You've had a pretty happy
and normal life.
That is
 you had
a pretty happy and normal life.
All that's been changed
 because things
 have been tense in your house lately.
Your mother and father
started arguing about a year ago.
About six months ago
the arguments got a lot worse.
It seemed like they couldn't even talk
to each other without screaming.
Last night
they told you
they're getting
 a divorce.

You pleaded with them
and cried your heart out,
but you couldn't change their minds.
Somehow you sensed
they weren't really even listening
to anything you said.
Sure,
they told you
 they'd always love you.
But that doesn't take away the pain.
And it doesn't change
the absolute terror
 you feel deep inside.

You cried all night
and most of the day.
Finally
 you couldn't take it anymore.
You had to talk to someone.
So you went to find the one person
you thought would listen.
Your Sunday School teacher.
She'd taught your class
for three years now.
And you knew
 she really cared about you.
You knew she'd really hear
what you had to say.

You looked into her eyes
as your teacher listened
to the whole story.
You could tell
she understood
and that she hurt with you.
But you also knew
there was nothing she could do
to change your parent's minds.
As you realized that
 you started to cry again.
Your teacher started to cry too,
and she put her arm around you
and hugged you.

It was her hug that did it.
Just from her arm around you
you could tell
you'd survive.
Sure,
 you still hurt,
But you now had what it takes
to make it through the bad times.
For the feel of that gentle pressure
told you
you had a friend.
A friend who would be there
when things got bad.

And in the relief
of this discovery
you somehow knew
both you
and your teacher
might have another Friend.
A Friend who will always be with you
and who'll hurt when you hurt.
A Friend who will never
 divorce or leave you.
A Friend that binds you
 and your teacher
 together into one family.
The family of God.

You're twenty-two years old,
and you've just started
what looks like it'll be
a great career in sales.
You're enjoying
 all the parts of your work.
But perhaps
there's some parts of it
you're starting to enjoy
a little too much.

For you've found
 you need to entertain your clients.
That means
 you spend a lot of time
drinking with them.
And now
 you've started to drink
even when you aren't with them.

Your work starts to slip
and so does the rest of your life.
Finally there comes a time
when your spouse lays
it on the line.
You can choose between your drinking
or your marriage.

One of your friends
 takes you to an AA meeting.
And afterwards he tells you his story.
He tells you the story
about his journey out of addiction.
And he tells you how his story
is all a part of another,
and greater story.
He reminds you of all
you  already knew
about the story of the person
named Jesus of Nazareth

And as he reminds you,
something seems to move
inside your heart.
It feels like a damn bursting inside
and opening a path;
a path showing you  the way
 to go on.
And you remember
something you've forgotten
for the past few years.
You remember
you have a Friend.
A Friend
who will be by your side
through your journey out of addiction.
A Friend
who will be with you
as you work
to save your marriage.
A Friend
who's reaching out to hold your hand
to lead you
though the rest of your life.

You're thirty-five years old.
You're happily married
with a loving spouse
and three wonderful children.
You have a great job,
a nice house,
and respect in your community.
Your life seems like
its working out just fine.
Well,
 it was working out fine,
before that call last night.
You knew something had to be wrong
when the phone rang at 3 A.M.

It was your sister.
She didn't even let you finish saying hello,
before she blurted out the news.
She said your mother and father
had been in an accident.
A drunken driver had
swerved over the center line
and stuck their car head on.
No one survived.

The phone fell to the floor.
You fell too.
With your spouse's arms tight around you
you knelt there and cried
for what seemed like hours.
You're still on that floor now,
kneeling where you fell last night.

There's a gentle touch
and you look up to see
your pastor's sitting beside you.
She doesn't say a word.
All she does is to look into your eyes
and let her hand
rest on your shoulder.
But that touch
 suddenly means the whole world to you.

It reminds you
 you're among friends.
And who she is
reminds you
you also have
an even greater Friend.
You have a Friend
 who will morn with you.
You have a Friend
who will help you find a way
to live with this pain.
And you have a Friend
who now holds your parents
securely
and lovingly
in the palm of a mighty hand.

You're forty-six years old
and you're laying on a cart
 in an emergency room.
An ambulance brought you here
 about four hours ago
after you fell on the ice.
They've given you a shot
to ease the pain.
The shot helped a little
but you still feel like there's a knife
sticking in your right knee.

Your doctor appears at the side of the cart.
He doesn't look real happy.
And when you hear his news
you're not real happy either.
You're going in for emergency surgery
in about an hour.
After the surgery
you're going to be in rehabilitation
for at least six months.
When the rehab's done
you'll be able to walk again.
But you'll always use a cane
and you'll always need help
where ever you go.

Just as the unfairness of this loss
begins to seep into your mind,
there are other people
standing by the side of your cart.
Its your spouse and your children.
They look down and smile at you.
Your children tell you
you helped them to learn to walk,
and they'll be happy to do the same for you.
And while your children are talking
you hear your spouse quietly breathing
a word of prayer.

That prayer reminds you of the Friend
who's always with you.
And the presence
of your spouse and children
remind you of that Friend's marvelous gifts.
The pain in your knee
is still there
but it doesn't seem to matter
so much anymore.
You look at your family
and look at your knee
and then look upwards
and you say,
"the Lord gives
 and the Lord takes away.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord."

You're fifty-seven years old
and living a life that finally seems
to have settled down.
All of your kids are in college
and you
and your spouse
are beginning to really enjoy decorating
 your new house.
You smile as you walk into
your office building,
and wave at your boss
who's standing by her desk.
Surprisingly
 she doesn't wave back,
but beckons you into her office instead.
There's a security guard
 standing by her desk.

Your boss tells you
the company has re-evaluated
its work force.
And in the re-evaluation
it's been decided
your job is now unnecessary.
She tells the security guard
to escort you to your office
and to watch you
while you clean out your desk.


After five months
you finally find another job.
You know you couldn't have
made it through those months
without your faith.
For even while you watched
 your life savings shrink
there was a feeling
of an arm
around your shoulders.
A feeling that no matter how bad things got
somehow
it was going to be ok.
A feeling that although this seemed like
the worst of times,
there was a Friend with you.
A friend who held you tightly,
when you didn't know
if you could go on.
A Friend who never strayed from your side
and who walked every step
 of this path with you.

You're sixty-eight years old
and last week you had another of
 those visits
with your doctors.
A visit
 where you did you best to convince them
heart surgery,
is not your idea
of a fun way to spend your time.

You didn't convince them,
and they were pretty convincing themselves.
They told you
straight out
if you wanted to have
a lot more years in this life,
you had to have this operation.

They've come to take you
 to the operating room now.
And you're scared.
More scared then you've ever been.
You turn to your pastor
who's been waiting in your room with you,
and you ask for a word of prayer.
She touches your head gently
and you hear words lifting up
your need for protection and health.
and you hear
words asking for guidance
for your surgeon's hands.

As the prayer gently finishes
your pastor traces a cross
 in oil
 on your forehead
and reminds  you
that the blessing of the Triune God
is with you.

And as she makes that cross
you sense there's another hand
on top of her's.
A hand offering a blessing
human hands could never bestow.
As you're wheeled away toward surgery,
that blessing
hovers over you
reminding you;
no matter what happens
there's a Friend with you.
A Friend
who's taking care of you
and who's not going to leave your side today.

You're ninety-five years old.
A person full of life.
Full of love for your grand children,
and brimming with love for your God.
You've been in good health,
but that's slipping now.
Today its slipped a little too far
and you know
your life on the face of this earth
is over.

Your sight begins to fade,
making your grand children's
faces disappear.
Your hearing starts to fade too
and their voices dim
and slip away.

Then suddenly
 you seem to feel
an arm around you.
An arm
 whose touch you seem to know
very well indeed.
A strong arm that lifts you up
until you see the face
 of your best Friend;
the one who's always been
a real and tangible presence with you
through every fear filled
moment of your life;
the One who never left your side;
the One who walked with you,
the One who cried with you,
and wiped away
every tear from your eyes;
the One who died
and was raised for you.

And you see
a new heaven
and a new earth.
Every tear
is wiped away
from our eyes.
Death is no more;
mourning and crying and pain
are banished from our lives.

All things
are made new.
And forever more

Jesus
 will be our Friend.

To God alone be glory.
Amen.

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