[Propertalk] Draft

[robertpmorrison at charter.net]

This has been changed and edited as news of the CT school killings came 
in, and will go through revisions, I'm sure, before Sunday morning, but 
I thought I'd send along my thoughts as of now ..

Prayers for all!

Bob


THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY                          	 
THE THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT (c)
ZEPHANIAH 3:14-20                        					 
16th DECEMBER, 2012
PHILIPPIANS 4:4-7				                            	                     	 
CANTICLE 9
LUKE 3:7-18

	Very few can be unaware of what happened at Clackamas on Tuesday 
afternoon.  It’s one of those shocking events that draw us up short, and 
when it happens on one’s own doorstep it’s all the more distressing and 
disturbing. On top of that, as I was working on the sermon, came the 
news of the shooting at the Elementary School in Newton, Connecticut.

	I don’t know which emotion comes into play most – horror, anger, 
frustration, incredible sadness – for everyone involved. It seems as if 
some people are grabbing our emotions and wringing them to breaking 
point. We hardly know where to turn. We don’t want to look at or listen 
the news for fear of something else being reported, some sign of 
personalities snapping, of a seeming break from all that is decent, and 
just, and honouring of the sacredness of life.

	A friend’s e-mail told of how she felt after the destruction of the 
World Trade Center towers. “I remember on 9-11 that I kept saying to 
myself, ‘Where is God in all of this, where is God in all of this?’ It 
was a deep repetitive groaning. Maybe the fifth or sixth time I asked, 
‘Where is God in all of this?’ it became a question asked and answered. 
‘Where is God?’ ‘In all of this.’ I am not sure I ever felt the presence 
of the Spirit more intensely than when she answered my groaning prayer 
that day.

  	Whatever happened last week will, unfortunately, happen again. Maybe 
this is part of what the Apostle Paul meant when he referred to the 
whole of creation groaning. Everyone, I imagine, sucked in her and his 
collective breaths on Tuesday and Friday, and tears came unbidden to 
their eyes.

	One of my first thoughts was of the store owners and the teachers whom 
I know; and, sometimes not remembered in the same instant, the emergency 
responders – law enforcement, fire department, ambulance crews – all 
those whose job it is to enter into the black places of life for the 
safety of others. And I found myself praying for those whom I know, even 
if they weren’t in Clackamas or Newton, praying for their safety, giving 
thanks for their service, remembering their families.

  	We’re all bound together by what happened – whether it was in this 
State, or across the country, or half way across the world. ALL such 
tragedies chill us, perhaps because we have difficulty coming to be able 
to say that God is in all of this; perhaps we feel helplessness because 
we don’t know what we can do in the face of the fact that life is filled 
with danger and disaster, often completely beyond our control.

	Not to belittle it in any way, but the terrible tragedy aside, I 
suggest that it may help to think about this.

	One thing really impressed me about the situation here in Oregon. Two 
things – well, probably more. The 911 call went out and within sixty 
seconds, the first emergency responders – it was one of the law 
enforcement agencies – were there. Sixty seconds, with no warning, no 
premonition that something was going to be happen, some law enforcement 
officers were right there.

	Last week I mentioned “God winks”, little signs that God has something 
to tell us which will help our living situation. God also has a way of 
trying to get people to be right there to hear something, to see 
something, to do something, right as it’s needed, or pretty close to it.

	Does this work every time? Of course not – we know of people who’ve 
been in pain and not had anyone show to help for what seems like an 
eternity. But there ARE those inexplicable occasions when someone who 
has the ability to make a difference IS almost on top of it. I’ve been 
engaged in some of these, and we get to the point of almost taking it 
for granted. Yet a person IS present when needed.

	The second thing that impressed me, besides the almost instant 
appearance of law enforcement officers, was the fact that the Mall’s 
administrative staff, the store owners, everyone involved there, had 
participated in thorough classes and discussions to deal with precisely 
this sort of an event. They’d been trained, and, more importantly, 
they’d listened to folk tell what possible scenarios might look like. 
They seemed to have run things often enough that when the horrible 
challenge of Tuesday afternoon presented itself they were able to 
respond to ameliorate the crisis.

	As soon as the tragedy hit, the responders and the employees, and the 
shoppers, rushed people outside or into the backs of stores and under 
counters, where strangers became acquaintances very quickly, and folk 
helped one another survive the hours of waiting till they got word that 
it was safe to come outside.

	Once again, it was a matter of knowing how to respond – how to react 
with a stranger, how to deal with one’s own feelings, how to deal with 
danger and challenge.

	I pray none of us will be exposed to anything as critical as what 
happened last Tuesday or Friday, but we ALL have to face times of 
difficulty, in which much is asked of us. We have to hope and pray that 
we’re up to that challenge. But, in addition, what I hope and pray is 
that I’ll be there for someone else, I’ll be able to encourage them, 
pull them to safety out of crushing experiences in life; help them find 
their way through events that pressure them and threaten to squeeze 
life, and joy, and meaning out of them. It’s in times like these – not 
just Clackamas and Newton-type events – but hospitalisations, news of 
friends going through crises, people stuck and unsure how, or when, or 
why to act; people who’re trying to repair relationships, or make a 
break from situations that are being destructive – I hope and pray that 
I’ll be able to respond, just as those trained officials, and store 
workers, and administrative staff were able to do for the reported ten 
thousand in the Mall at the time of the shooting.

	These people were able to react because they’d thought of at least some 
of the possibilities, and they’d prepared themselves. And I, I hope, I 
am enabled to play a little part in the lives of some because I know 
that there are people looking out for me – for instance, by the e-mail I 
received from a special friend on the East Coast, who wrote, “I hope you 
know that since hearing the news of the shooting in Portland that you 
have held a firm place in my prayers.”

	It’s been experienced time and time again that when disasters hit, all 
sorts of new communities are formed, and the vast majority of people 
work to establish something like a family in which we can feel safe, no 
matter what’s going on outside. It may be prayers; it may be e-mails; it 
may be phone calls; it may be people stopping on the street, asking, 
“How you are, what can I do to help?” Community does that for people. It 
makes the needs, and longings, and loves of one person one’s own, in 
order to help protect, to heal, to nourish the other – as the first 
responders and staff did when they shoved people through the doors, and 
under the counters, and into store rooms.

	I hope I can do that for others.

	I, along with everyone else, can do that much more efficiently, more 
lovingly, if I’ve had some preparatory thoughts about how to respond.

	John the Baptist is such an amazing figure. We’ve probably tried to 
clean up the dirty, rough edges of him and his clothes, not mention 
where he ate.

	If we’d been part of the populace of Jerusalem and its surrounds back 
then we might not have looked forward to his appearance. Just as today, 
if we hadn’t noticed before, we may not have been thrilled to have heard 
the Gospel read to us. I can imagine many – including myself! – say “Oh, 
NO! Not John again!!” We may think that he’s the greatest pain we’ve 
encountered for ages. We may wonder why stories of his exploits and 
speeches seem to stand at the gateway to God’s encounter with us in the 
Person of Jesus – until we think about what he was trying to do; whom he 
was trying to reach.

	John didn’t have a limited view on things. He wanted to reach everyone, 
He didn’t care about social standings or economic categorisations. He 
didn’t even care whether or folk were religious. His job was to make 
sure that the greatest number of people possible were trained to take 
seriously the job of being prepared to face whatever emergency might 
come along. He wanted them to make their trust in God and their devotion 
to God second nature.

	He knew what it was like to be under threat of danger, or rejection, or 
isolation. He knew what being separated from family and friends was all 
about. He knew how it felt when people attempted to demean others, or 
even take their lives away. Not only did he know, but he wanted to help 
people to be alert to everything which could harm them. He didn’t know 
what pressures might befall his listeners – or us – but he knew that 
we’d often have an uphill battle, that we’d be exposed to many things 
which might not only endanger ourselves – our souls and bodies – but 
also our loved ones, as well our neighbours, and the folk across the 
country and the world. It was John’s burning passion to ensure the no 
one would be unaware of how to prepare for any occasion when we faced 
difficulty, and also be prepared to accept the most powerful help, and 
assurance, and love imaginable.

	You might call John the ultimate Risk Management expert. He knew what 
land mines lay ahead for people and, frankly, he was infuriated at the 
folk who wouldn’t listen; who thought he was talking to everyone else 
but them; who’d go on their own merry way, regardless of how it affected 
themselves and those around them; go on their merry way perhaps until it 
was too late. John treated his job – remember how Zechariah described 
him as he looked down on his infant son? “You are the dayspring from on 
high”, the guide sent from heaven to warn of approaching important 
decisions; the escort who could accompany us into the presence of God on 
earth, but could only hope that we’d be ready, ready for every 
challenge.

Nothing can take away the shock of last week. Nothing may really prepare 
us for that punch in the stomach when some other act of horror is 
perpetrated.

But John – and this Season of Advent – remind us of God’s presence, of 
God’s love, of God’s incredible compassion. John calls us once again 
this morning to be ready to act, to do whatever we can, to remember the 
urgency of knowing that God IS present, and will ALWAYS be present, and 
of how we’re called to act for God wherever and whenever we can.

We can’t hide ourselves from those acts of terror. Nor should we hide 
ourselves from the call to be ready to respond. But we must never forget 
those thousand upon thousands who are there for us, to support us, to 
help us in our ministry, as we need to be there for them in whatever 
pains they bear.

Our cry should NOT be, Oh, NO! Not John again!!” but, “Where is God? In 
ALL of this!”



Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR  97321   541-921-1076 (cell)