He's Gone

Well, he died on Monday morning at around 12:20 a.m. at the age of 54. This funeral has really got me down. When I became a pastor I was terrified of doing funerals. I didn't know if I'd be up to doing this, didn't know if I could hold it together when so many around me are falling apart. Over the last few years I've gotten almost mechanical about it which isn't good but I've had so many funerals (average 9 a year) that I've gotten used to doing them. They don't frighten me any more. I don't know why this one is different. It's not like I knew him really well. Maybe it's because he's so young. He's only 14 years older than me. His funeral is in an hour. Here's the sermon I'll be preaching.

Funeral for EG
May 24, 2007
Psalm 23
Thomas Arth

E died on Monday.
On the one hand you can almost say it was about time
since he had to endure so much suffering
during the last part of his life.
But really, he was too young to die.
He didn't get to be an old man
because cancer showed its ugly head
and cut his life short.
It wasn't easy to watch what he had to go through,
especially these last few days.
The man who lay there helpless,
really just waiting for the end,
was not the man you all had come to know during his life.
For E, his death is a release from a time of declining health,
a release from his suffering.
For you, his family and friends,
his death is a loss of someone you loved,
someone who was important to you,
someone who will be missed.

Early last week when I visited E in the hospital
he wanted to talk about the funeral service.
All he said was "nothing fancy."
I said that the funeral services I lead are fairly simple:
some prayers, some scripture readings, a short sermon.
I asked if there were any readings or hymns
that he'd like us to use.
A asked "Amazing Grace?"
He shook his head.
"Old Rugged Cross?"
He didn't reply.
"Metallica?"
I think he smiled.
I asked, "Enter Sandman?"
Now I'll be honest,
that's the only Metallica song I actually know the title of.
And I had to think that a visit from the sandman
to bring E a peaceful rest
was what he really needed.

But later I got to thinking about some of the words in that song.
A kind of chorus in that song says
"Exit light. Enter night."
That's what we think of when we imagine a quiet and restful sleep.
But that's not what we think of, as Christians,
when we describe death.
A couple of Sundays ago in church we heard a reading from Revelation
that talked about the New Jerusalem,
an image of what it means to live with God.
It said, "the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it,
for the glory of God is its light,
and its lamp is the Lamb...
there will be no more night;
they need no light of lamp or sun,
for the Lord God will be their light,
and they will reign forever and ever."
You see, death is not an "off to nevernever land"
it's a forever and ever land with God.
The way it all works out is a mystery to us
but we trust in the promises of God
made to us in baptism
that God is always with us.

We can, and should, be thankful for the life that E lived,
for the time we did have with him,
but that won't make his death easy
for those who will now miss him.
You will have memories of E that you will cherish.
Over the days, weeks, months, and years to come
you will remember what you had with Evan.
Some of that remembering will make you sad.
That's normal.
That's right.
We mourn those we lose.
But we can also celebrate
the rest and peace that he now has in the Lord.
You might not feel like celebrating for a while.
Various emotions might be racing through you.
Along with sadness, there might be anger.
It's hard to understand
why you had to watch E suffer the way he did,
why he had to die at a relatively young age.
This is a time of darkness.
Even in the bright sunshine
it can feel like darkness and night in our hearts.
That's what the darkest valley,
the valley of the shadow of death,
a ravine as dark as death is about in Psalm 23.
Those kinds of times are part of every life in one way or another,
at one time or another.
This is a time like that.

It may not look like it now but there is hope.
The Psalm says "I shall fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff they comfort me."
We're not alone.
In the times of darkness God is with us.
God accompanies us through the long night of grief
and, eventually, into the sunshine of a brighter day.
God was with E step by step
through the dark night of his suffering
and is with him now in the light of eternal life.
E's life here on earth is over
but he knows that death is not the end.
Comfort in our dark valley times comes from our faith in Christ.
It's going to be hard for some time.
E's suffering is over.
He is in God's hands.
Like you said in your tribute to E and his cars,
"God's got a great mechanic and body man."
E is in God's hands and so are all of us.
When we remember E's life
it will bring both joy and pain.
But we can live in hope in Jesus Christ,
that we who die in a death like his
will also live in a resurrection like his.
We anticipate that great and holy day
in the sure trust and hope that we have in God.
Amen

Enter Sandman

A parishioner lies dying in the hospital.
I visited with him and his family this morning.
He might die today or tomorrow.
I read Psalm 23, prayed Romans 8.38-39, prayed the Commendation of the Dying.
He said he needed to talk about his funeral service.
I asked what he wanted.
He said "nothing fancy."
I said I don't usually do anything fancy.
I asked if there were any scripture readings or hymns he might want included in the service.
He didn't answer.
His wife asked, "Amazing Grace?"
He shook his head.
"Old Rugged Cross?"
No reply.
"Metallica?"
We all chuckled.

Lord Jesus Christ, deliver your servant from all evil and set him free from every bond, that he may join all your saints in the eternal courts of heaven, where with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God, now and forever. Amen

Enter Sandman.

What a Couple of Weeks!

You know, I serve a pretty small church. I'm not usually run off my feet. But last week I had a worship committee meeting on Tuesday night. I had a few people in hospital to visit. One couple from our church was in a car accident that wrecked their car. Thankfully they're not seriously hurt but they're bruised and sore. I had a graveside funeral service on Thursday. A wedding rehearsal on Friday (normally my day off) and the wedding on Saturday (also normally my day off).

This week has a local ministerial meeting on Wednesday (I don't always go to those if I'm too squeezed for time). Thursday is Ascension Day and we'll have a pot luck supper at 5:30 and worship with Holy Communion at 7:00. Saturday is Kids' Club with another pot-luck supper. Then Sunday we'll have Confirmation for 3 of our teenagers, one of them being my oldest daughter.

I didn't go visit my mother yesterday, just gave her a phone call. She was here last Sunday for my oldest son's birthday and she'll be here next Sunday for the confirmation.

So this week I have to write 2 sermons plus make sure all of the extra little things get done for confirmation. Go ahead, cry me a river.

What To Post

It's been a long time since I've posted anything. Nearly 2 months. I check a few blogs a few times a week and when I don't see them posting anything I quit looking. But I'm more guilty than those people. I don't know what to post sometimes. I don't post all of my sermons because I'm not always very happy with them. And I'm a busy guy and blogging takes a lot of my time. I get the weekly reports of activity on my blog and it's been declining steadily.

Stay tuned. I'm not promising a lot of posts. I'm not promising very good posts. But I'll try to put a little more up here.

Shalom

Yesterday's Sermon

Here's what I preached yesterday with help from Timothy Hoyer at Crossings and from the here we stand confirmation curriculum.

5th Sunday of Easter
May 6, 2007
Revelation 21:1-6
Thomas Arth

A man lies in a hospital bed.
His life slowly but surely ebbs away.
He has suffered a mild heart attack.
He has just learned that he has a rare,
incurable blood disease.
He knows he is dying.
What thoughts occupy a mind at the end of a life?
The man in the hospital bed begins to evaluate the life he has lived.
That often happens.
But it doesn't have to be on a death bed
that those kinds of thoughts come to mind.
There are many times when we look back and take stock.
We make judgements about how we've lived our lives,
about what we've done.
Then statements pop into our heads that begin with
"If only I had..."
"If only I hadn't..."
"What if..."
"I wish..."
During our lives we come upon many forks in the road,
we come to places of decision,
choices are made, opportunities for second guessing.
"What if I'd stayed in school."
"If only I had taken them up on that job offer."
"I wish I'd told my kids how proud I was of them."
"If only I hadn't wasted that time and that money."
And then we also compare
ourselves, our lives, our situations,
with others.
We so often measure our worth according to what we see in others.
I earn more or less that one person.
I drive a nicer car than this one but not as nice as that one.
We're cramped in our home
but they have so much room in theirs.
Why do we feel our lives must be judged?
Why do we make those comparisons?
To judge our life is to measure its worth.
To judge our life is to measure its meaning
according to what we have done
and how much we have done.
This week I came across a story on the internet that said,
"Vacation homes and a third car may hold you hostage
and deprive you of real wealth."
Some people judge their lives by what they've accumulated
and spend so much effort and energy
trying to accumulate all they can
that they don't really live.
All of that judging is living by the law.
The law leads us to feel that we must judge our lives.
We hear "Thou shalt" and "Thou shalt not"
and it's automatic that we start to ask ourselves
"Did I?" or "Have I?"

The law leads us to judge ourselves,
but the one sitting on a great white throne judges the world.
In the verses just before today's reading from Revelation we read,
"Then I saw a great white throne and the one who sat on it."
Earth and heaven fled from his presence.
They passed away.
They fled because they were afraid of being judged.
It's one thing to judge ourselves
according to whatever standard we choose.
But it's entirely another thing to be judged by our God.
The fear of that kind of judgement sends us running.
If you watch enough cop shows on TV,
or if you just know something about human nature,
flight is a sure sign of guilt.
If we're honest with ourselves we're guilty of many things.
We're guilty of death, mourning, crying, and pain.
That seems like a strange thing to say.
How can we be guilty of those things?
Perhaps down at the root of it all,
those things are the result of our sinfulness.
And the reading tells us that these things will pass away.
They're against the will of the one seated on the great white throne.
How do we know that?
Because he gets rid of them.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more.
They're signs that things aren't the way God intended them to be.
They're signs that the creation is not being preserved
according to God's will.
Sometimes when I hear well-meaning but misguided people
talking about it being God's will for a child to die
or a parent being cut down in their prime
I want to scream.
As I say, they might mean well but they're wrong. It's not God's will for them to die.
It's not God's will for their family and friends to mourn.
It's not God's will for the crying and the pain
that come with that loss.
As the preacher said after his son died in a car crash.
His consolation is that God's heart was the first to break
when his son died.
"‘Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.'
And the one who was seated on the throne said,
‘See, I am making all things new.'"

The man in the hospital bed who judges his life
according to what he had done
has a lot in common
with the passing-away earth and heaven:
neither trust in God as the giver of worth.
The man looks to himself.
He looks at his own life and what he has done,
what he has accomplished,
perhaps what he has accumulated and will leave behind.
And ultimately he's left wanting because it's not enough.
Along with his accomplishments he sees his failures,
he sees what he has missed,
he sees how he doesn't measure up,
neither to his own standards
nor to the standard of the Joneses
with whom he could never keep up.
Earth and heaven had their own deeds to look to:
mourning and crying and pain.
"I saw the great white throne and the one who sat on it;
the earth and the heaven fled from his presence,
and no place was found for them."
Without faith in God, heaven and earth fled,
Adam and Eve fled,
and we flee because without faith
there is no remaining in the presence of God.
There is no place for those who do not fear God.

But suddenly, a new heaven and a new earth appear.
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth;
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away."
It's somewhat reminiscent of St. Paul,
writing to the Corinthians,
"everything old has passed away;
see, everything has become new!"
The one who is the Alpha, the Beginning,
who makes everything new,
first put an Omega, an End, to the old
by the death of Jesus.
In this reading from Revelation he says "It is done!"
It wasn't so long ago,
just over 4 weeks ago on Good Friday,
that we heard Jesus say from the cross
"It is finished!"
Revelation talks about the one who sits on the throne,
and we often talk of the cross being Jesus' throne,
so from the cross and the throne in heaven we hear
"It is done!" "It is finished!"
And then "See, I am making all things new."
The first to be made new is Jesus,
whom God raised from the dead.
Death has no more dominion over him.
In him, death will be no more.
Which means that we will no longer have a separate home from God.
The law is no longer our God,
he is our God.
We will be his people
and no longer be stuck in the old way.

The man in the hospital bed, like most other patients, gets thirsty.
A nurse brings a large cup of ice water with a straw
from which he drinks to great satisfaction.
We thirst for worth, for life, for life that lasts.
"To the thirsty I will give water
as a gift from the spring of the water of life.
Those who conquer will inherit these things,"
says the one who sits on the throne.
We are given Jesus,
the Lamb who was slain,
as the water of life.
Remember when Jesus met the Samaritan woman at the well?
"If you knew the gift of God,
and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,'
you would have asked him,
and he would have given you living water."
And she replied,
"Sir, give me this water,
so that I may never be thirsty."
In him we do not fear,
for he has overcome,
conquered the world, conquered the law.
And this is something worth sitting up to drink in.
It is finished.
It is done.
Everything is new.
The judging is over.
The striving is over.
The comparing
and the keeping up with the Joneses is over.
"I am making everything new.
Write down what I have said.
My words are true and can be trusted.
Everything is finished!
I am Alpha and Omega,
the beginning and the end.
I will freely give water from the life-giving fountain
to everyone who is thirsty."
We have real life in the Lord.
We have true worth in the Lord.
We no longer have to judge our lives by the law,
by what we've done or failed to do.
The Alpha and the Omega,
the beginning and the end,
has said "It is done!"
Not by us, because we'd never be able to do enough
or do it well enough
or do it completely.
But the one who gave himself for us,
who stretched out his arms on the cross,
he has done all that needs to be done.
I used these signs a while back in a sermon.
DO? (a sign says DO with a red circle around it and a line through it)
No!
There's nothing we can do or need to do.
DONE? (a sign says DONE with a green circle around it)
Yes!
Everything has been done by Jesus.
God's grace, forgiveness, and salvation
are not based on anything that we can do,
but is totally based on what Christ has done for us.

The man in the hospital bed lightly chuckles with an inner delight
that he is ready for the Lord to take him.
It is not death that will take him,
though it may look that way at first.
But the old is passing away
and God is making all things new.
The man in the hospital bed will be made new,
new because he will dwell with God in the new Jerusalem.
There life is not measured,
for there will be no night,
just the light of the glory of God the Almighty
and the Lamb.
Our worth is given to us free; it's a gift.
The man in the hospital bed ends up not only judging his life,
but he is rejoicing in all the good that he has been given.
We will still have tears and pain,
though not like those who have no place.
The glory of God and the Lamb shine on us now
through the proclaiming of the Promise.
And in that glory we are free
from the old way of judging our life for worth,
and free to use the worth of Christ
to serve those who need comforting.
Let us live in that new life,
because God has made his home with his people.
And let us drink in from the life-giving fountain
so that we need never thirst. Amen

Holy Week

I wrote this for our local paper and it ran on the Wednesday in Holy Week. I know it's kind of late but if anyone cares this is what I wrote:

Why don't you visit a church this weekend. I don't know if you go to church much, or ever, but this is my invitation to visit one of the churches in town. I'm not telling you to go to any specific church. You might have some connection to one church or another. Then go there. If you don't have some sort of connection to a church try one that a friend or neighbour or co-worker attends. Or pick one close to where you live or one you've always driven past and were curious about.

This week, especially Easter Sunday and the days leading up to it, are the anchor of the Christian year. Different churches celebrate some or all of the great Three Days of this Holy Week, spanning from Maundy Thursday sundown through Easter Sunday sundown.

Maundy Thursday gets its name from the Latin mandatum, from which we also get the word "mandate." At this service we remember the last evening Jesus spent with his disciples before his death. On that night Jesus demonstrated love in service as he, their Lord and Master, performed the duty of a servant by washing the disciples' feet. He shared a last meal with them, on which we base our practice of Holy Communion, and he gave them a "new" commandment (mandatum). "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another" (John 13:34).

Good Friday is the day when we remember the death of Jesus. The religious and political authorities of the day considered him a threat to their order so the Roman occupation force put him to death by nailing him to a cross. On this day we focus not only upon the agony of the cross but especially upon God's victory through the crucified. The cross has been transformed for us from a method of execution to a sign of God's triumph over sin, death, and evil.

On Easter "Eve" some churches celebrate the Vigil of Easter. It is an ancient and powerful celebration of the new creation that springs from Jesus' open and empty tomb. The scripture readings on that night relate the history of God saving God's people. A prayer written for the Vigil of Easter says, in part: "Eternal giver of life and light, this holy night shines with the radiance of the risen Christ." This is the beginning of the celebration of the new life we have in our risen Lord.

Finally comes the celebration of the Resurrection of Our Lord, Easter Day. We greet one another with the ancient words of the church: "Alleluia! Christ is risen." "Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!" God gave his only Son to suffer death on the cross for our redemption, and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of death. That first Easter morning had people running in fear. The Lord they loved and followed was not in the tomb where they laid him less than two days before. But out of that fear and confusion, hope emerged. We gather to worship, to hear the good news of God's love for us, and the proclamation that Christ lives.

So check the listing of Holy Week services that was printed in the paper. Or call up the church you'd like to visit and ask them the times of their services. If you haven't been to church in a while, maybe even a long while, don't let that keep you from worshiping this Easter season. If you only worship once in a while don't let that keep you away. Make this Easter one of those occasions. No one ought to scold another person because they haven't been to church in a while. This is a time to celebrate everyone's presence. A gracious welcome is the order of the day. After all, that's what God has already done for us!