"Last words": Sermon for Sunday 13 May 2018
Sermon
for Sunday 13 May 2018
7th
Sunday of Easter
Lutheran
Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem
The
Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith
Grace
and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I’d like to say a few words about Iva.
Iva was the oldest member of the first church I served as
pastor, in northern Illinois, and she was notorious for never mincing words.
She said exactly what she thought—which, I suppose, is a privilege you earn if
you’ve lived for an entire century on this earth.
As an example, on her 98th birthday, Iva’s friends
from the church quilting group arranged a party around her bed at home,
complete with cake, ice cream, and chicken salad (which was her favorite). It
was a lovely gesture, a real show of love from her friends. But Iva just couldn’t
pass up the chance to comment, while staring into her coffee cup, “Well I guess
you just can’t get good coffee around here anymore.”
On another day, shortly after she had entered hospice care, I
took communion to her house. Iva’s hearing was pretty terrible, so as I entered
the front door I called out loudly, ‘”Iva, how ya doin’ today?” And she yelled
back at me from her bed, “Pastor, I’m just bitchin’!”
The thing was, Iva was ready to go, and she told me so often. She
had outlived several husbands, several children, and a beloved grandchild. I
would ask how to pray for her, and she would say “Please just pray the Lord
takes me home tomorrow.”
So when Iva’s daughter phoned me to say the end was near, and I
should hurry quickly to the house, I smiled a little. I thought, “Finally, Iva’s
prayers are being answered.” When I entered the house, I found the family
gathered quietly around her bed. We held hands, and I led us in prayer. But
when I finished with a solemn “Amen”, Iva
suddenly opened her eyes, looked straight at me and said, “Oops, Pastor, I
guess it was a false alarm!”
These were not Iva’s last words—I wasn’t there to witness
those. But I remember them, because these words, spoken near the end of a long
life, reveal so much about who she was. She was colorful. She was honest. She
was strong. She was a little bit ornery! And she was faithful, to the end.
People love to record and remember last words, especially the
last words of famous people. We are curious
to know that Harriet Tubman sang “Swing low, sweet chariot” as she lay dying. We
are interested to know that Winston Churchill declared, “I’m bored with it
all!” and that Groucho Marx had to get in one last joke, quipping from his
deathbed, “This is no way to live!” We love to know these
(possibly true) bits of trivia, because last words are believed to reveal
something deep and true about a person.
In today’s Gospel lesson, we get the chance to eavesdrop on some
of Jesus’ last words—and in fact they do reveal something deep and true. They
reveal much about who he is, and about what it means to follow him.
The verses we heard this morning from the 17th
chapter of John are part of Jesus’ farewell speech to the disciples, which took
place at the Last Supper.
 |
| In front of the Holy Sepulcher church, a man dressed as Jesus takes a moment to pray (He's known around here as "Detroit Jesus"!) Photo by Carrie Smith |
After he had washed their feet,
After he gave them a new commandment to love one another;
And after he promised that an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, would
soon come to be with them forever,
Then Jesus lifted his eyes up to heaven, and he prayed for them.
Yes, hear the Good News: Jesus
prayed for us!
It feels good to be prayed for, doesn’t it?
I will never forget how, during the fall of 2015 (the terrible months
often called the “stabbing intifada”), a pastor from Ferguson, Missouri,
visited us here at Redeemer. He was here on a much-needed sabbatical after the
terrible police violence and subsequent protests in his city. He came to be
refreshed in the Holy Land, but instead found himself moved by the plight of
the Palestinian people.
When he returned home, he shared what he had seen and heard with
his congregation. And shortly thereafter, I received a large color photo in the
mail. It was a picture of the members of this pastor’s congregation, all of
them holding big paper letters which spelled out: “God’s Peace, from Zion,
Ferguson Missouri”.
I tell you, it brought me to tears immediately. It meant so much
to know people who had themselves known so much suffering and turmoil were
standing in solidarity with us, and with our Palestinian neighbors and friends.
It meant so much to know they were praying for us, and with us, for God’s
kingdom of peace, justice, reconciliation, and love.
Yes, it feels good to be prayed
for.
In recent days, many of us here in Jerusalem have received
messages from friends and family, promising that they are praying for us. It
feels good, and it matters—not because we believe that God only listens
to prayers that are prayed by a great number of people,
Or because we believe God only reads Facebook memes shared by
the greatest number of people.
It matters when we are prayed for, because it helps to know we
are not alone.
It matters because it helps to know that other parts of the Body
are paying attention to this part, which is hurting right now.
It matters because the prayers of others give us strength and
courage. They give us sumud, or steadfastness.
The prayers of friends and loved ones help us to become like the
rghteous named in today’s Psalm: “They are like trees planted by
streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not
wither.” Yes, like trees planted by the water, we shall not be moved! Amen!
Dear siblings in Christ, hear the Good News again: Some of
Jesus’ last words happened to be a prayer for us! And in today’s reading we
learn that he prays not that things would be easy for us, but that his
disciples would always be strong.
Jesus prays that we would be one, because we are better
together.
Jesus prays that we would have joy, and that our joy would be
complete.
And he prays that although the world hates us for who we are
(and for whose we are), we would be protected by God the Father.
Jesus prayed:
“I have given them your word, and the world has hated them
because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take
them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil
one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the
world.”
Hear that again:
Jesus acknowledges that the world often hates us and what we
stand for…but he does not pray for us to be taken out of the world. He prays
that we would be protected while in the world. That we would be safe.
That we would be strengthened to continue on the path he has set before us—which
is a path straight through the world.
Straight through the city. Often, it is a
path straight into conflict, into difficult conversations, into challenging
relationships.
It is often a path straight to the cross.
But, thanks be to God, our Risen Lord has shown us that his is
also the path to life, and to love, and to joy. Thanks be to God! Amen!
Oh, it feels good to be prayed for.
It feels good to know that Jesus, who sits at the right hand of
God the Father, is praying for us even now!
And this prayer of Jesus feels especially good at this moment.
Sometimes, we it can seem we are alone—alone in praying for
peace. Alone in standing for justice. Alone in hoping beyond hope. Alone in
standing steadfast for truth, for reconciliation, for a world where all can
live free.
But we are not alone. We are
never alone!
Next week, when we gather again as the church, we will celebrate
how the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, fell upon the disciples, filling them with
the gift of tongues, but also with the gift of peace and the assurance of God’s
presence.
In the meantime, between now and next Sunday, things may get a
little rough in Jerusalem.
Today is Jerusalem Day, and some very nasty words will likely be
shouted and chanted at our neighbors here in the Old City and in East
Jerusalem.
Tomorrow is the opening of the US Embassy in Jerusalem, and we
expect some false words will be said…words like “eternal” and “capital”.
And Tuesday is Nakba Day. As always, some false words will be published
that day: Words like “there is no nakba” and “there has never been a
Palestine.”
But dear siblings in Christ, today I want you to hear these
words:
Jesus, crucified, risen, and ascended, is now seated at the
right hand of the Father. He is praying for us.
And he always has the last word.
Not politicians. Not missiles. Not bullets. Not terrorists. Not
the wall. Not oppression, or occupation, or apathy, or the grinding sameness of
the “way things have always been.”
Jesus, our friend, our brother, our Savior, always has the last
word. And what a gift it is to know that some of his last words were a prayer
on our behalf.
Thanks be to God, for we know that because he is Risen, love has
the last word!
Life has the last word!
Truth has the last word!
Joy has the last word!
Strengthened by Jesus’ prayers, and by his faithful presence
with us, we can and will face whatever is to come.
We shall not be moved! Amen!
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