Remembrance, Renewal & Hope


Remembrance

Grief. Even days, months, years after the hurricane that is a loved-one's death first arrives on our shore, grief still brings strong winds across our skies, our fields, our pathways.  If there is Joy, it is somehow mixed with sorrow, with the awareness of loss, with the knowledge that someone whom we shared so many holidays past with, so many special times, so ordinary times with, is now not here. Maybe there is that nagging sense that things are too different now. It brings to mind that Emily Dickson poem, which may describe the feeling: “There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes.” In the wake of losing someone who was always there, our days’ slant of light has changed. The heaviness, the heft aches even amid sunlight.  
  
Time progresses, as time in its nature does. And hopefully, we are able to see a little more easily. We are able to feel the many gifts this human life offers. The gift of fond memories becomes indelible, priceless, powerful.  

So in honor of all this, we take time this All Saints Sunday to recall the memory of loved-ones. We offer a space and a moment here and invite you to remember and honor a loved-one that has touched your life and whose memory continues to touch your life by simply quietly reciting their name and a word that represents them. This is a sacred time for you to allow your loved-ones name and a descriptive word to represent all those precious memories and times that you shared with them, those holy moments that live in the sacred spaces of your life.  

So let us first experience some moments of silence, then I will begin the reciting of names by offering the name of a loved-one I dearly miss this year. 

 [Reciting of Names] 
 
We clasp the hands of those that go before us,  
And the hands of those who come after us.  
We enter the little circle of each other's arms  
And the larger circle of loved-ones,  
Whose hands are joined in a dance,  
And the larger circle of all creatures,  
Passing in and out of life,  
Who move also in a dance,  
To a music so subtle and vast that no ear hears it  
Except in fragments 
  
Renewal and Hope 

Life, love, and loss are sadly inseparable. To live is to love, and to love is to lose. Such a process is unavoidable. The cost of love is loss. But we must pay the price if we are to live meaningful lives, lives moved by compassion and vulnerability, the priceless gift we give of seeing and feeling of another’s pain. 

Amidst it all, amidst the darkness and the loss, there is a light to be found. Fortunately, dawn arrives after a long night. Light always overcomes the dark. A child, even if far away in a distant land, is born amid this bleak winter. Emily Dickinson reminds us of this with a wonderful poem maybe you memorized as a child.  

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - 
That perches in the soul - 
And sings the tune without the words - 
And never stops - at all - 

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - 
And sore must be the storm - 
That could abash the little Bird 
That kept so many warm - 

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - 
And on the strangest Sea - 
Yet - never - in Extremity, 
It asked a crumb - of me. 

May we realize that, yes, sorrow cannot be denied, but life, life with a capital L, the life of the heavens and the earth, progresses. It moves along in ebbs and flows like the water that begets life. One night ends; a new day begins. Moments of darkness roll into the light of sunshine. As one life passes, a new one begins with a cry, a tears of a newborn and the tears of parents entwine. 

The scripture tells us, “and a child shall lead them.” In the new births realized everywhere around us – births of life and of moments – may our memories of our loved-ones move into the surmise that each life and each moment before us is a miracle, containing the hope and renewal once believed gone but now reborn. 

So I close with a prayer and let this be our pastoral prayer this morning...

May you each and every day allot for yourself a time of remembrance and a time of hope and renewal. May we see each day that all that we are now is because of all that we learned from and experienced with and in others. May we see that to honor this truth is one of the most important things we can do. May we take some time to breathe, to be still and know the holiness of each and every day. May we breathe in God’s love and breathe out God’s love with the world. May we take-in to our thoughts and prayers those who need God’s presence, peace, and healing and may we reach out to those who need a friend. And let us give God who is Love the thanks for its in Love's name we pray, Amen. 

Justified for Justice


Luke 18:13 (used for contemplative prayer in Eastern church)
Do people change? Can they change? Is it possible to go from being all about me and ignoring others and their plight and their needs to being the opposite, changed to someone humble, compassionate and just?
We live in a world that seems to dismiss the possibility of true, real transformation and heart-change. But we follow a way, Christ's way, that preaches that transformation, a heart-change indeed is possible. Not only that, it is inevitable. And how our world needs a heart-change!
This morning’s story from Luke 18 gives us an example of transformation, a transformation that takes someone from the chief of the lowly and unjust to someone justified and lifted up.
The word justified is especially pertinent. It is certainly a word maybe like me you heard a lot growing up in church. Justify, justified, justification, these are words that are firmly a part of the Christian theological lexicon. To be honest, I haven't thought a great deal about these words in a while. But it's a good idea to take a relook at things in life and to even rethink them. That’s how good things often happen. The lectionary reading from the gospel of Luke has given me the chance to do just that, to give a relook at the word and idea of justify or justification.
Our reading from Luke 18 ends with Jesus basically saying that the lowly tax collector, because of his sincere show of humility, is justified.
Some might see, and many do see, the term justified and believe it is just another synonym for the word saved. Justified in this view is the same as being saved. In some ways, this is true. But it is much more nuanced than that.
The word in the original Greek is dikaioo. It is quite a rich and complex word. As the English translation of dikaioo indicates, the idea of “just” as in justice is related.
The word justify literally means to be made just. Dikaioo can also be translated as to be rendered righteous. Dikaioo we might say means to en-righteous someone, as in deeming them upright.
Anyway, if I justify you, I declare you as just or righteous. Or put another way, if I justify you, I declare you as just and oriented toward justice. If I en-righteous you, I declare you as righteous and oriented toward doing the right thing.
If God is doing this justifying, this making just, this en-righteousing , then we are talking big stuff as in eternal stuff. And that's what we have in Luke 18. Christ justifies, makes just, en-righteouses, of all people, a tax collector.
Remember, a tax collector in many ways is the chief among the unrighteous in his society. Tax collectors are in a category all their own when it comes to the unrighteous. They were seen as traitors against Israel because they worked for Rome which occupied and oppressed Israel. They collected taxes from their own people, and skimmed some off the top as their form of pay. 

So, justifying, declaring a tax collector righteous and just means a whole lot of grace going on. To en-righteous, to make upright a lowly tax collector, and to at the same time degrade a religious leader, which a pharisee was, was truly a radical thing to do. But God's grace is a radical thing, a radical gift that keeps giving.
Now there is another side to this radical act of grace-moved justifying. Not only is the tax collector made just and righteous in God's eyes, the transformation that naturally comes from this influences a new orientation, a reorientation, a new way of being in the world. Being justified means being made just in God's eyes, yes. But it also means being reoriented towards justice in the world. To be justified, we are turned and reoriented toward justice. When we are truly made just and righteous, our eyes are open to better see injustice and the need for justice.
When it comes to the tax collector, if he is made just in God's eyes only to keep on as a henchman for Rome, the justifying would be contradicted. Being made just means a transformation both inside us but also in how we see and act in the world. The presumption in the text is that the tax collector is made just, and his life is changed.  The presumption is that because of his transformation, he goes and is unjust no more, no longer unjustly robbing from the poor to give it to the rich in Rome.
All that said, we cannot fail to realize what moves Christ to justify the tax collector. It was the tax collectors humbling of himself. It takes a transformative humility to do what the tax collector did to admit he was wrong with no excuses or equivocation and to cry out for mercy. I love the phrase in verse 13, he would not even look up to heaven. Instead, he cried with his whole body. Have you ever cried so hard that you are brought to your knees and cannot help but to Pound your chest so that it keeps beating amid your heartbreak? That's the picture in Luke 18. The tax collector is a picture of transformative humility and a life changing brokenness. Such humility gives way to God's grace, With God saying it's alright it's alright. And this all rightness this justifying turns our eyes toward justice and righteousness.
We hear a lot about justice in the UCC. It's preached about often. I've been known to preach about justice, in fact. But seeking justice, being oriented towards justice, is part of a process according to Jesus. It begins with humility, transformative humility, and with internalizing God’s love.
There is a spiritual transformation involved in being made just or being oriented toward justice. It is God who opens our eyes to the world and the needs in the world, the needs for justice and peace and inclusion. It is God who makes us just. It is God who en-righteouses and enlightens us. We need to be humble enough to let go of our ways and allow God’s ways to work through us. We need humility, a falling to our knees knowing we cannot do it alone. We need humility so that God can work his mercy in us.
Preaching humility, a letting go of self, in other words, is just as important as preaching justice. For they go hand in hand. If we want to change the world, we need humility to know we cannot do it with God’s love infused in us just as much as we need insight into the injustices in the world and the ambition to create a just world.
I close with a verse from the Hebrew Scripture, one that Jesus surely knew. It was a favorite then and remains so now. It comes from the book of Micah, chapter 6:
“With what shall I come before the Lord,
    and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with a [perfect offering,
    a perfect sacrifice, a perfect word of praise
and a perfect song worship, a perfect life?]
He has told you, O humanity , what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God?