May 2, 2008 Mary’s
Outstanding Sermon
Important reminder:
there will be a Congregational Meeting
at which you will be given a chance to vote on one of two plans for the parking
lot this Sunday, May 4, at 10:10 a.m.
in the Nave. A full presentation will be made at the Congregational Meeting, but
you may click here for a view of the parking lot
options under consideration.
Great news: we have
had over 220 people take advantage of the lower prices and register for next
weekend’s All-Parish Retreat at Shrine Mont! Although the deadline is today, your
last chance to register is here -- if you print
out and hand-carry, or email back to the Church by Sunday, you will be
included.
Dear E-pistle subscriber,
I
want to share an experience I had (well, almost had) at the 7:45 service last
Sunday.
A
bit of background for those of you who didn’t make church last Sunday: Pastor
Mary preached a fantastic sermon.
Immediately
after she finished preaching at the 7:45, I had to resist standing up, right
then and there, and say, “do we REALIZE how good a sermon we’ve just heard?!?”
“Do
we realize,” I would have gone on to say, “that any of us could go to any one
of hundreds of churches all over the country, and
hear, week after week, little more than
1.
politically-correct-liberal-left guilt
trips or (just as bad)
2.
moralistic, graceless harangues from
the conservative right; or (lacking that)
3.
bubble-gum feel-good psychobabble;
or (if we’re lucky)
4.
tripe
about the preacher's last trip to the Holy Land.
But,
in contrast to that, we just heard a sermon that
Her sermon was outstanding.
I fear people (myself, St. James’ parishioners, Americans in general) take way
too much for granted.
We heard, on Sunday, an outstanding
sermon. And we, most of us, just moved on with our lives.
Well not me this time. Taking a cue
from Fr. Goodness (who wrote me a note the next morning, saying that he thought
the sermon was “A-1 excellent,”) I wrote Mary a note. And I made a fuss later
in the week.
Mary was a bit embarrassed by the
attention, but that only reinforces my point: we often have good
experiences, we often have affirming, positive thoughts about other people--but
we rarely actually say what we feel.
So, in case you missed it, or just
need a reminder: here’s a highlight. (You can read the whole thing by going to
our website. )
I
want to tell you another story about two women, two women who were dealt the
same hand, and who played the cards very differently.
The
first is the story of a woman whom I visited several years ago when I was
interning in a parish in Richmond. The rector asked me to visit this woman, but
promised that it wouldn’t be a joyful visit. I asked why, and he said, “You’ll
see. You’ll see what life looks like when you give up hope, and you stop
living.
Sure
enough, I saw what he meant. I went to this woman’s house, and my heart broke.
She hadn’t been to church in 10 years. 10 years ago her husband died, and for
all intents and purposes, that’s when she died, too. She never left the house,
she had few friends and little family, the way she spoke was as if time had
stopped 10 years ago, and she was waiting painfully for her own time to come.
There was nothing that I could do or say to make her feel any better.
She
had made her choice about how to live in the absence of the alleluia.
And
then there was another woman, and I tell you her story with her permission. Two
years ago, I had my first invitation to officiate a wedding. I’ll never forget
it. Kay Gregg, our wedding coordinator leapt out of her chair when I came in
the office and proclaimed that I had my first wedding! And she said, “You’ll
never believe who it is. Maryal and Roland!” Maryal was
about 70 years old, and Roland, 80. Both of them had loved and lost, between
them they had 90 years of marriage.
So
imagine me trying to offer pre-marital counseling to them. What could I
possibly tell them that they didn’t already know?
The
wedding was an absolute delight, filled with joy. These were two people who had
decided that they wanted to love again. They could have sat by the tomb, and
lamented, and I know for sure they did sit by their respective tombs, and
lament, but in time, they decided to give love a chance again. And I wonder—did
Maryal and Roland find love again, and that’s what
made them joyful?
Or,
were they joyful people, and because they were joyful, they found love again?
It’s
an important point. Joyful people are attractive—they are like magnets. Think
of people with whom you like to spend your time. The people with whom I like to
spend my time are ones who are full of life, full of enthusiasm, full of joy! I
don’t mean to imply that joyful people are always happy—in just a second, I’ll
distinguish between joy and happiness—but joyful people are ones who drink from
God’s well of love, and they give love, no matter what kind of cards they’ve
been dealt.
I
share these stories because they illustrate that the choice is ours to
make–joy is there to be found, the alleluia is out there–and we can look for
it, or not.
To that, I say, “Can the congregation say ‘amen’”?!
See you Sunday,
Fr. John