[Propertalk] Fwd: [propertalk.topic] I AM Here Among US

Joe Parrish joeparrish at compuserve.com
Fri Sep 2 11:31:04 EDT 2011


 Forwarded:

 


 

 

-----Original Message-----
From: Frank Fisher <f.fisher.obl.osb at comcast.net>
To: SBA <SBA at SBAbbey.com>; PRCL-L <PRCL-L at LISTSERV.LOUISVILLE.EDU>; propertalk.topic <propertalk.topic at ecunet.org>; midrash <midrash at joinhands.com>
Sent: Fri, Sep 2, 2011 10:53 am
Subject: [propertalk.topic] I AM Here Among US


This is my sermon draft for September 5, 2011, my next to last Sunday with

these two congregations. The text is Exodus 12:1-14.  Comments and

suggestions on this one would be very appreciated.



PAX,





__



Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB

www.ffisher.net

Interim Pastor

First Presbyterian Church of Kewanee, IL

www.fpckewanee.org

Elmira United Presbyterian Church

www.elmiraunited.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



____________________



My life flows on

in endless song;

above earth's lamentation.

I hear the real

though far off hymn

that hails a new creation.



No storm can shake

 my inmost calm,

while to that rock I'm clinging.

Since Christ is Lord

of heaven and earth,

how can I keep from singing?



"Abba, please!

Will it hurt the lamb?"



Much to your father's chagrin

those words 

burst from your lips

in a five year old 

scream of anguish.

For your name is Athaliah,

a loving daughter,

and a most reluctant slave.

Being a slave's

 not too onerous yet,

although you've been told 

many times

how much you'll hate it 

when you get older.



But the mere fact 

of your slavery 

makes you very sensitive 

to the suffering 

of other creatures.

And right now 

you're incredibly aware

of the frightened look 

in the lamb's eyes

as your father

 leads it away 

to be slaughtered.

Seemingly,

the lamb's quite aware 

of its upcoming fate.

Perhaps,

you think,

he hears the bleats

of other lambs

coming from the other shanties

of the people of Israel.



Your father stops 

on his way 

out the door,

and he stoops down 

to talk with you 

for a moment.

You think for an instant

you've won a reprieve 

for the petrified animal.

But your faint hope's dashed

as soon as your father's mouth 

opens to speak.

His eyes 

look on you 

with the love 

only a parent 

can give,

as he explains 

the lamb 

must indeed die.

The lamb 

will only hurt for an instant

he tells you.

It will meet its fate 

too swiftly 

to feel much pain.

But he tells you,

if the lamb doesn't die,

you

the eldest child 

of your parents 

will die

 in its place.



You struggle 

to fit your mind 

around this strange concept.

For you know 

your mother and father 

could never 

do you harm.

Seeing your puzzlement

your father tells you to wait.

"All will be revealed

and all will be well 

in the end,"

he says.



"But,"

 he continues,

this will be a frightening night 

for all of us.

Stay here 

in the house.

And pray 

death will pass us by 

on this Passover night."



"Passover."

You repeat 

this strange word

over and over again.

"Passover."

What can this mean?

But you know 

your father's word 

is true.

So as your parents 

disappear through the door,

 you wait

 and know the word's meaning 

will be revealed.



Dusk falls outside as you wait.

The lamb's desperate bleating 

cuts off suddenly.

This silence 

brought on by lamb's death

draws on and on.

Then 

just as suddenly 

as the silence began

it disappears 

as your father and mother 

reappear 

outside the door.

Your mother passes 

through the door 

carrying 

the butchered lamb.

Apparently 

the animal 

you so staunchly defended

is destined 

for the evening meal.



Ordinarily 

you might've bemoaned this fact 

for at least 

an instant,

but your attention 

is completely distracted

by what your father's doing.

For he's carrying a bowl

which brims 

with a dark liquid.

Your nose tells you 

the bowl contains 

the lamb's blood.



Could your father 

be offering this blood

to the unnamed God?

This thought 

quickly runs through your head.

But your vision 

of such a sacrifice 

quickly fades

as your father 

stops outside the door.

Then he dips his hand 

into the lamb's blood

and he smears it 

on the right door post.

You watch  

with your mouth gaping with amazement

as he smears 

more and more blood

 until he covers 

both door posts 

and the lintel.



Muttering a prayer

your father bows his head

and steps though the door way 

carrying 

the now empty bowl.

  You follow closely after him

and you both look expectantly 

toward the table.

Your mother beckons to you both 

to come and eat

and you settle down 

in your place 

at the table.



On the table before you 

is cut up lamb.

By now 

the odor of its cooking's

over come your scruples 

about eating it.

The same can't be said 

for the pile 

of vile smelling herbs

your mother places 

before you.

Gingerly 

you select the tiniest leaf 

you can find

and place it 

delicately in your mouth.

But it flies from your mouth 

almost instantly

as you choke 

on its bitter taste.



Your mouth opens 

to protest this indignity

but your screech ends

before its even begun.

For you notice

 how your parents are eating.

They aren't sitting or reclining

as is the custom at table.

Instead,

they're standing there 

gulping down 

their food 

while wearing 

their outdoor clothes.

And if that 

wasn't strange enough

you see how  their feet 

are encased

by their most durable sandals,

and you puzzle

 over the heavy staffs 

in their hands.



Finally 

you've received the message.

There's something very strange 

going on 

around you.

You're not really sure 

you want to know

 what the strangeness

 is all about.

But something tells you

its important 

for you to discover 

what ever it is.



"What's happening 

on this night?"

you ask hesitantly.

"And what did you mean

when you called 

this night

 the Passover night?"



Your parents 

look at you 

with very serious eyes.

You can see 

they're hesitating 

at telling you 

something.

But then 

they stoop down 

to your level.

And in a very solemn voice

your mother tells you,



"This is the night 

when the Lord our God

will pass through 

the whole land 

of Egypt.

And God will strike down 

every first born 

in the land of Egypt,

both humans and animals.

Your mouth drops 

and you begin to tremble 

with fear.

For you are the firstborn child 

of your parents.

But before your tears 

begin to flow

your mother speaks again

with words of reassurance.



"Don't be afraid,"

she tells you.



That's really easy 

for her to say,

you think.

You tears 

start to flow again,

but your father 

stops their flow.



"Do you remember 

the lamb's blood 

on the doorway?"

he asks.

"The blood is a sign 

which says 

that in this house

live those 

who worship the Lord.

When God sees the lamb's blood 

on they doorway,

death will pass over our house 

without harming us..

That is why we say

 this will be 

the Passover night."



Your parent's words 

reassure you.

And your more 

relaxed mind

allows your mouth 

to open 

with a flood of questions.

"But why are you 

so heavily dressed?

And why do you hold 

staffs in your hands.

Why do eat so fast?

And why are we eating 

these bitter herbs?"



Normally 

a torrent of why's 

would drive your parents

to an exasperated silence.

But as you'd seen,

tonight

 was a different night.

And your mother answers,



"The Lord's decreed 

this night

 will be the last night 

of our slavery 

in Egypt.

The bitter herbs 

remind us 

of all we've suffered 

in this land.

And the way we eat

and the way we're dressed 

reminds us

to prepare 

for our escape.

For with the dawn 

our God 

will set us  free 

from the hands 

of our oppressors.



Your parents again stand

to resume the hurried meal.

And you run 

and put on 

your heavy clothes.

Then you don your sandals 

and grasp onto your own 

small staff

as you again 

join your parents 

in the Passover meal.



And as you eat,

you listen.

You listen for a sound

you've never heard before

and you know 

you'll never hear again.

For you listen for the sound

of the Mighty One 

passing over your house.

A sound 

which will show 

your now former masters

how God will protect 

God's people.

And you tremble 

at the realization

this night means,

I AM

is here among us.



Through all the tumult

and the strife,

I hear that music ringing;

it sounds in echoes

in my soul;

how can I keep

from singing?



No storm can shake

 my inmost calm,

while to that rock I'm clinging.

Since Christ is Lord

of heaven and earth,

how can I keep from singing?



"Father please,

is it going to hurt?"

Your father smiles 

his understanding

as those words 

slip from your lips

in a rush 

of honest anguish.

For your name is Demas

a loving son

 of loving parents.

A loving son 

who's about to become 

the child

of a much more powerful Parent.



And as you stand here 

on the river bank

your lack of knowledge 

about this rite 

called Baptism

makes you tremble.



You've waited 

long for this day.

It's a day 

you've dreamed about 

and strived 

toward

since 

the wonderful day

when your parents 

told you the story 

of God 

come to earth.



As soon 

as you heard 

that story

 you knew

you belonged 

to Jesus the Christ.

But it's a day 

that still fills you 

with dread;

dread 

inspired by the whispered rumor

of your pagan friends;

a rumor 

telling of human sacrifice;

a rumor in which 

they told you,

"in Baptism,

you will die."



Your fear 

almost drives you

to bolt

 in terror.

But your love 

for the Lord Jesus

burns through the fear.

And you smile 

hesitantly back

at the elder's 

blazing smile

as she leads you 

by the hand 

into the middle 

of the waters.



As you reach the river's 

deepest part

the elder 

raises both her hands 

in prayer 

over you.

You stand 

stock still 

not knowing 

what to do

as she gives thanks 

to the Christ

for bringing you 

to this place and time.

And she asks God's blessing 

on you 

and your new life.



But the elder's smile 

fades away

and she looks at you

with very serious eyes.

Solemnly 

she says to you,

"I Baptize you 

in the Name of the Father."

And even before the final sound  

of her words 

fades 

from her lips

you're grabbed 

roughly from behind.

Then you're lifted 

into the air

and plunged deeply 

beneath 

the water's surface.



You struggle in terror 

as you look up

 and see 

its your father

 who's holding you 

beneath 

the water's surface.



You want to cry 

out to him

to let you go.

But of course

 you can make 

no sound

here in what now 

seems to be 

your watery grave.



You can no longer 

hold your breath.

But just as your consciousness 

begins to fade away

your father 

lifts you up 

into the air again.

There 

you struggle 

to gulp in air.



Yet before 

you can really breath

you hear the elder say,

"I Baptize you

in the Name of the Son,"

and you feel yourself 

being slammed down

to the watery depths 

once again.



Your time under water

 seems a bit briefer 

this time.

But it still leaves you gasping

as you're raised 

into the air

in time to hear,

"I Baptize you

 in the Name

of the Holy Spirit."

This time you've realized 

what was to come.

And you'd been able 

to gulp in enough air

to make your underwater excursion 

almost comfortable.

At least 

you think 

as you're lifted once again 

from the water,

 it was comfortable 

by comparison.



You realize 

no further dunkings 

await you

as the elder 

again takes you 

by the hand

and leads you 

from the water.

She smiles 

as you take a few deep breaths

when you reach the bank's safety.

Then 

she looks at you deeply

and with upmost solemnity 

says to you,



"Your pagan friends 

probably told you

you were to die 

today.

They were right.

For when 

you entered the waters

you died 

and entered the tomb 

with the Christ.

Then 

like the Christ

you arose again 

from the tomb 

to the joy 

of new life.



Death 

has passed over you 

today.

As you are mortal

it will one day 

come again.

But because you've died 

and arose 

with the Christ

death

 can never hold you.

It can only pass over you 

once again

before you once again 

arise 

to eternal life."



Then the elder smiles

 again deeply

and she leads you 

away

 to your first meal

 with your new sisters and brothers;

a special meal 

of bread and wine;

a meal 

in which you come to know 

the wonder

that the one known 

as 

I AM

 is here

 among us.



What though the tempest

'round me roar,

I hear the truth

it liveth.

What though the darkness

'round me close,

songs in the night

it giveth.



No storm can shake

 my inmost calm,

while to that rock I'm clinging.

Since Christ is Lord

of heaven and earth,

how can I keep from singing?



"I'm afraid.

I don't know

what lies ahead

for my congregation."



Those words

burst from your lips

as you consider

your congregation's future.

For your name 

is your own.

You're a member

of this particular church,

and in this interim time

you've been hearing

about your future path.

You've heard

to continue

as you are

will eventually mean

your church's doors

will one day close

forever.

As you look around

and consider how many of you

will be here

twenty years from now

you realize

what you hear 

may well be true.

But you also know

the changes needed

to secure your future

will mean

another death;

the death

of the way 

things are now.



For a moment

you consider

simply giving in 

to despair;

despair

born of the fear

for your congregation.

But then you remember,

you are a disciple

of Jesus Christ.

You have 

already died with Christ

and with Christ

have risen

from the tomb.

Since death

has already passed over you

there is no reason

to fear it

for you

or for 

your congregation.



Then with the fear of death

put behind you

you turn

toward your future path.

You know

you can face 

what ever path

Christ calls you

to trod.

And as you step forward in faith

you rejoice

and reach out to grab 

the hand of the one

who walks forward

 with you.

And you sing out

as you begin your journey

at the wonder

that where ever you go

I AM

is here

among us.



The peace of Christ

makes fresh my heart,

a fountain ever springing.

All things are mine

since I am Christ's;

how can I keep

from singing?



No storm can shake

 my inmost calm,

while to that rock I'm clinging.

Since Christ is Lord

of heaven and earth,

how can I keep from singing?



To God alone be glory.



Amen.








 
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