The Reverend Barbara K. Briggs
August 31, 2008
The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 17, Year A

School is starting.  Children and parents are leaving the rhythm of summer behind and stepping into the new rhythm of the school year.  The fall schedule is looming ahead with its own set of challenges.

Last Wednesday a big yellow monster swallowed up my son.  It was his first day of kindergarten, and he was afraid.  There was even wailing as we went out the door of the house to walk to the bus stop for the first time.  Other children from the neighborhood were there, and they all romped around together while the parents chatted and drank coffee in the early morning chill.

Then the yellow monster appeared, its eyes flashing yellow and then red.  It stopped right by where we were standing, and began eating up the children, one by one.  Caleb was having none of it, and clung to me in a desperate attempt to avoid being swallowed.  Any mother in her right mind would have swept him out of danger’s grasp, but not I.  As he clung to me with arms and legs wrapped tightly around my body, I approached the waiting yellow beast and thrust him directly into its giant maw, and he climbed aboard.  The last I saw of him was his little fuzzy sweater swinging around to find a seat.  And then they were gone:  all of them, leaving just the parents behind.

Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

I was not exactly losing my life by pushing Caleb onto that bus, but close.  Letting go of one’s own is like letting go of the temptation to protect, to hold back, to hedge in, to keep him safe at home where I feel more in control.  I had to ignore his tears and be tough, pushing him into the unknown toward an adventure that would no longer involve my presence, but one which will allow him to grow and to live and to be fully alive.

Each of us has faced many other moments similar to this, when we put ourselves on the line and risk everything because we believe that life has more to offer than what we alone can give, produce or achieve.  The movement toward faith is the same.

Peter thought he knew what a messiah looked like.  He believed that Jesus was the Christ.  But he didn’t have the whole picture.  He wanted to protect his friend, his Lord.  He could not conceive of the messiah as one who would undergo great sufferings at the hands of the elders and the chief priests and scribes and be killed and then on the third day be raised.  He was quick to exclaim, “God forbid it Lord!  This must never happen to you,” and Jesus had to remind him to get behind him, which is the only appropriate posture for a disciple, since a disciple is one who follows, not in front, but behind.  In order to live, Jesus had to face his own death.

There are countless examples of those who have risked their lives for the good of others:  those who have left home and jobs either permanently or temporarily in order to help others.  They have chosen the risk of sharing life rather than playing it safe.

Such are the ones who have made the trek to New Orleans over the past few years to help that city and that area rebuild.  Or who have refused to abandon the city of Hartford, choosing to stay and work toward the future with hope and energy and resolve.  Gustav is expected to make landfall anywhere along the coast of Louisiana tomorrow.  It seems like a cruel twist that this would come just one day after the day the Presiding Bishop had set aside as Katrina Remembrance Day.  Hurricane Katrina, the costliest Atlantic hurricane ever, caused an estimated $81.2 billion in damages and claimed more than 1800 lives between August 23 and 30, 2005.  Since then, thousands of relief workers have volunteered countless hours to assist survivors throughout the Gulf Coast regions of Louisiana and Mississippi.

Today is Katrina Remembrance Sunday.  It is a way of remembering, of heralding the vast relief work that has gone on, and of reminding us that there is still work to be done.

Bishop Jenkins of Louisiana said:  “It has been said that ‘you can give without loving, but you can’t love without giving,’ and I understand that more deeply now than before Hurricane Katrina ripped through our lives and ministry in 2005.  The three year anniversary of Katrina is upon us.  If the Lord has taught us anything through this ordeal it is that the Church needs to be ready to care for her people.  Take care and be ready, and may God bless us all.”

Here at Trinity as a new program year approaches in just a few short weeks, we are reminded of God’s call to the whole Church:  be ready.  Be ready to risk, be ready to give, be ready to hear God’s invitation to stand with Moses on Holy Ground and to remove our shoes in expectation of an encounter with the living God in our midst.

Be ready to hear God inviting us to come closer and listen.  Where are the burning bushes in our own lives?  Be ready to come closer and see what God is doing in our midst.  Be ready to say ‘yes’ to God’s invitation to love and to give.  Be ready to plunge in and be caught up in the swiftly moving tide of God’s Spirit in our midst.  Be ready to let go of control and let God surprise us with something new – something utterly wonderful and amazing and awesome.

Yes, be ready to let Christ be real – connected to our real lives as one who comes into the midst of our own fear of losing our lives as the one who comforts, heals, encourages and empowers us to get behind him in order to really live.  Be ready to welcome Christ in each other.  Be ready to be surprised by God’s call to us through the voices of those who need us, near or far.  Be ready to let ourselves be embraced by a love so great that it casts out fear and sets our hearts on fire with a passion to know and to love and to serve Christ.  There is no other reason to be here this morning.  There is no other reason to live.  Whether the leap be large or small, we are challenged every day to embrace the life ahead of us rather than to cling to what we think we have gained.  All is gift.  And gifts are meant to be given.

God is at all places and in all times, at every moment, waiting to give us everything we need in order to live.  If only we would put down what we cling to so tightly in order to accept God’s gifts.  How can I receive gifts if my hands are clenched?  Unclenching them in order to be ready to receive and to give will take us out of our comfort zones and transform our lives.  And it will be worth it.  Be ready.  Amen.
      
      
© Copyright 2008 by the Reverend Barbara K. Briggs