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Showing posts from October, 2012

Will we walk with one another?

With the approach of All Saints, which we will celebrate this coming Sunday, the 4th of November, (is it really November already), I have been thinking about suffering. Suffering in the sense of loss, as these times come near, this thin time when our ancestors begin to dance on our hearts and in our homes, we often are reminded of the pain of losing the ones we love. I was caught by surprise on Saturday as I said the hymn during Roger's memorial service and tears began to flow from my eyes, and I choked up. I was surprised because I thought I had dealt with the death of our brother in the weeks leading up to his service. But suffering isn't something you deal with, it isn't something that has a time line. No, suffering is something that evolves over time. Suffering evolves over time because our particular contexts shift and change. Broken hearts heal because we begin to believe we can love again and our experience of love is changed so that we can love another. But thos

Sermon for October 28, 2012

What does it mean to see again? What does it even mean to call upon the Lord? “Jesus! Son of David! Have mercy on me!” Let’s face it, most of us in this room would put ourselves in the same shoes as the crowd that hushed this man up and told him to be quiet. Most of us, with our good Minnesotan and Scandinavian influences wouldn’t like this man disrupting everything so loudly and inappropriately. Have you ever put yourself in the shoes of this man though? Have you ever been in such a place of desperation that all you could do is cry out? All you could do is blindly hope that someone could hear you, and that even more risky, someone would hear you and have compassion? Bartimaeus’ persistence pays off, he doesn't listen to the people telling him to be quiet, he continues to cry out, “Jesus! Son of David! Have mercy on me.” Which one, which statement hits you hardest, resonates strongest? Is it Jesus’ words, “What do you want me to do for you?” Or is it Bartimaeus’ words, “Let me see

Sermon at the Memorial Service for Roger Greene

The preface for the burial of an adult says, “To your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended.” Never before has life been more changed for me than the day that Roger Greene died. Someone asked me the other day, of all the people who have sat on that bench, a bench which, ironically, is also gone, of all the people who have sat on that bench, what was unique about Roger? What made Roger fall into our hearts the moment we met him? What was it about Roger that made us want to see him day in and day out? When I saw Roger a couple of weeks ago for the last time I was struck by how strong he still looked. By how confident and filled with the spirit he was. I had been told that he was not up for much talking, but as soon as I walked in he started giving me instructions, talk to this person, don’t forget to ask this person. When I asked him what he might want me or someone else to say at his funeral all he said was remember the Shelf, and remember the people in the neighborhood. R