Sarah
Sermon
Sermons on the Second Readings
Series III, Cycle C
Object:
Don't be so easily shaken or alarmed by those who say that the day of the Lord has already begun.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:2 (NLT)
Max Lucado, in his book, In the Eye of the Storm, writes about a woman named Sarah who was rich.1 Really rich! She inherited twenty million dollars plus had an additional income of $1,000 a day. That's a lot of money today. But in the late 1800s when Sarah lived, it was downright staggering.
You can imagine that she was well-known, having come from the elite, upper crust of the New England coast. Well-known and powerful. Her name and money opened doors closed to most of us. Colleges wanted her scholarships. Politicians wanted her support. Organizations wanted her donations.
Did I mention that she was rich? And powerful? And well-known? She was also miserable. Her only daughter died when she was five weeks old and her husband died shortly afterward, following their daughter to the grave. This left Sarah alone with her money, her memories, her misery, and enough guilt to max out even her credit cards.
It was primarily this last burden of her guilt that made her leave the luxury of her mansion in Connecticut and ride the train until its very last whistle stop in San Jose, California. It's amazing the distance we will travel to escape the reminders, silence the voices, and avoid the reality. She did escape -- right into a prison of her own making.
She bought an eight-room farmhouse and 160 acres of land. She hired sixteen carpenters and put them to work -- for 38 years. Every day. Twenty-four hours. She hired them to build, what? A mansion or was it a castle? Better yet, it was more like a prison.
Sarah oversaw the entire project all the way down to the eerie, macabre details like thirteen panes on each window, thirteen panels on each wall, thirteen hooks in each closet, and thirteen globes in each chandelier.
The floor plan was just as creepy. There were corridors snaking around the complex, some going nowhere. One door opened to a blank wall, another to a fifty-foot drop. One set of stairs led to a ceiling that had no door. Trapdoors, secret passageways, tunnels -- think of the latest Stephen King horror movie and you get the picture.
The construction didn't end until Sarah finally died. In those 38 years, the estate sprawled over six acres with six kitchens, thirteen bathrooms, forty stairways, 47 fireplaces, 52 skylights, 467 inside doors, 10,000 windows, 160 rooms, and a bell tower.
Why? Why would you build such a place? Because you could afford it? That's too easy. There had to be something more to it than extravagance or opulence. Those acquainted with her said it was because she had so many visitors ... each night.
Legend has it that every evening at midnight a servant would pass through the secret labyrinth of tunnels to the bell tower. He would then ring the bell to summon the ghosts who would convene nightly in the blue room with Sarah. Together, they would linger until 2 a.m. when the bell would ring again. The spirits would return to their graves, and Sarah would return to her room.
Who were these spirits that haunted the mansion and would not let Sarah sleep? The legend says that they are all the Indians and soldiers and cowboys killed on the US frontier. Men, women, and children who were killed by bullets from the most popular and effective rifle and killing machine known in America -- The Winchester. The same thing that brought death to these people brought millions of dollars to Sarah ... Sarah Winchester.
And now, as Paul Harvey would say, you know the rest of the story.
Sarah spent the last 38 years of her life trapped in a castle of memories, providing a home for the restless dead, and learning how to cope with her guilt ... according to legend, at least.
You don't have to build a Winchester mansion to deal with unresolved guilt or fear of the future. I suppose we all figure out different ways, more creative ways, less expensive ways to assuage a heart that just can't seem forget or ignore a page from our past or a lie in our present or the unknown of the future.
Some of us, like Sarah, are doomed to wander the halls and entertain those poltergeists in the dead of the night when they rise to haunt us, robbing us of sleep, and preventing peace.
Maybe you know a Sarah? Maybe Sarah's story is your story. Different portfolio, different floor plan, but same insatiable quest for forgiveness and resolution.
The answers to guilt's questions are not found in a new house. The answers are not found in a distracted life. The answers are not found in simply learning how to live with the restlessness. The answers are found in the one who has the power to forgive and forget. The answers are found in the one who promises to return to those who await him and give what they have waited a lifetime to hear.
Scholars say that 2 Thessalonians was written shortly after 1 Thessalonians as a way for Paul to clarify the widespread misunderstanding of Paul's teachings concerning the return of Jesus. Many who read the first letter thought that the end time had already begun. Judging from the content of 2 Thessalonians, many had quit work, fallen into despair, and lived with a constant fear.
And now, brothers and sisters, let us tell you about the coming again of our Lord Jesus Christ and how we will be gathered together to meet him. Please don't be so easily shaken and troubled by those who say that the day of the Lord has already begun.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:1-2 (NLT)
Paul wrote this follow-up letter to reprimand them sharply, to remind them of the true teaching, and to encourage them to live lives that would prepare them for Jesus' return. It is not a letter filled with fear and horrible images of damnation. Instead, Paul reminds them of the hope that is theirs to come.
As for us, we always thank God for you, dear brothers and sisters loved by the Lord. We are thankful that God chose you to be among the first to experience salvation, a salvation that came through the Spirit who makes you holy and by your belief in the truth.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:13 (NLT)
Paul needs to remind these young Christians who have either fallen into despair or tremble with fear about Jesus' authority to forgive sins. To have the power to forgive a person's sins is reserved only for the one who has the power, who has the authority, who sits on the right side of God as judge over the living and the dead and who promised to return one day for the cleansing of those who believe in him.
That's what the Son of Man does. That's what he came to do. That's what he has the power to perform. He forgives and then goes one step further. He forgets. He erases the board, shreds the evidence, destroys the chip, and deletes the screen. For all the things that the Son of Man promises to do for us, the one thing that he refuses to do is to remember.
... as far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us.
-- Psalm 103:12
Even if you are stained as red as crimson, I can make you white as wool.
-- Isaiah 1:18 (NLT)
I will be their God, and they shall be my people ... and I will remember their sins no more.
-- Hebrews 8:10, 12
Do you believe that?
Jesus gives us a double promise; to forgive and forget. But we don't, do we? Not as easily, anyway. We have a good memory. We are more like Sarah who entertains the ghosts of our past that still linger, robbing us of sleep and peace. What these demons that go bump in the night are doing, really, is trying to get you to forget whose you are. They are giving your spiritual journey a limp from some irritable stone in your sandal. They fill us with doubts whether or not God could actually do what he promises -- forgive and forget. That's the gift that Jesus, the Son of Man, judge of the world gives to us -- a terrible memory. He doesn't keep record of those past sins on his clipboard to check it next time you get on your knees and say you're sorry. Instead, his gift is a grace filled, mercy driven, terrible memory so you don't drive yourself crazy hanging out with the ghosts of the past.
You don't have to learn to live with your past and cope with your guilt like Sarah Winchester. You don't have to tremble and be shaken like those young Thessalonians. Jesus offers a cure.
My wife and I recently saw A Beautiful Mind. It has been a long time since a movie has made such an impact on me. It's about a lot of things -- friendship, marriage, commitment, and love. It is also about mental illness. The movie suggests what I have always thought was most often the case with mental illness. That is, most people suffering from mental illness are not "cured" like some physical diseases through treatment, drugs, or surgery. Most often those with mental illness learn how to cope or live with or even ignore their illness -- but it is still always there. Those with depression, anxiety, or, as in the case of this movie, schizophrenia, it doesn't actually go away but you learn how to deal with it, learn how to live with it, even learn how to ignore it. This movie depicts mental illness more like a bad back or diabetes or alcoholism. It never goes away but you learn ways to cope with it.
That might work with diabetes or depression. We might have wonderful drugs to mask the problems of anxiety or support groups to deal with addiction or exercises to ease lower back trouble. But when it comes to my guilt, I don't want a drug or a coping mechanism. I don't want to have to learn how to live with unresolved guilt, or cope with, live, or figure out how to ignore it. When it comes to sins, I'm not looking for a distraction or a class on how to live with it. There are too many Sarahs who are plagued with spirits of their past who rise when the sun goes down to make us doubt the very words of Jesus. I'm looking for someone who can bring a cure, wipe away all traces of it. I'm looking for a savior that Paul describes -- one who forgives and forgets.
Maybe that is why when others refer to Jesus, they use Lord, Messiah, or Christ, and he is. But when Jesus refers to himself, by far the most common title he uses is Son of Man -- the one who has the power and authority and might to heal us at our deepest level; at the level of our guilt with the power of his word, "Not guilty, for Jesus' sake."
Now you know the rest of the story. Amen.
____________
1. Max Lucado, In The Eye of the Storm (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001), p. 191.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:2 (NLT)
Max Lucado, in his book, In the Eye of the Storm, writes about a woman named Sarah who was rich.1 Really rich! She inherited twenty million dollars plus had an additional income of $1,000 a day. That's a lot of money today. But in the late 1800s when Sarah lived, it was downright staggering.
You can imagine that she was well-known, having come from the elite, upper crust of the New England coast. Well-known and powerful. Her name and money opened doors closed to most of us. Colleges wanted her scholarships. Politicians wanted her support. Organizations wanted her donations.
Did I mention that she was rich? And powerful? And well-known? She was also miserable. Her only daughter died when she was five weeks old and her husband died shortly afterward, following their daughter to the grave. This left Sarah alone with her money, her memories, her misery, and enough guilt to max out even her credit cards.
It was primarily this last burden of her guilt that made her leave the luxury of her mansion in Connecticut and ride the train until its very last whistle stop in San Jose, California. It's amazing the distance we will travel to escape the reminders, silence the voices, and avoid the reality. She did escape -- right into a prison of her own making.
She bought an eight-room farmhouse and 160 acres of land. She hired sixteen carpenters and put them to work -- for 38 years. Every day. Twenty-four hours. She hired them to build, what? A mansion or was it a castle? Better yet, it was more like a prison.
Sarah oversaw the entire project all the way down to the eerie, macabre details like thirteen panes on each window, thirteen panels on each wall, thirteen hooks in each closet, and thirteen globes in each chandelier.
The floor plan was just as creepy. There were corridors snaking around the complex, some going nowhere. One door opened to a blank wall, another to a fifty-foot drop. One set of stairs led to a ceiling that had no door. Trapdoors, secret passageways, tunnels -- think of the latest Stephen King horror movie and you get the picture.
The construction didn't end until Sarah finally died. In those 38 years, the estate sprawled over six acres with six kitchens, thirteen bathrooms, forty stairways, 47 fireplaces, 52 skylights, 467 inside doors, 10,000 windows, 160 rooms, and a bell tower.
Why? Why would you build such a place? Because you could afford it? That's too easy. There had to be something more to it than extravagance or opulence. Those acquainted with her said it was because she had so many visitors ... each night.
Legend has it that every evening at midnight a servant would pass through the secret labyrinth of tunnels to the bell tower. He would then ring the bell to summon the ghosts who would convene nightly in the blue room with Sarah. Together, they would linger until 2 a.m. when the bell would ring again. The spirits would return to their graves, and Sarah would return to her room.
Who were these spirits that haunted the mansion and would not let Sarah sleep? The legend says that they are all the Indians and soldiers and cowboys killed on the US frontier. Men, women, and children who were killed by bullets from the most popular and effective rifle and killing machine known in America -- The Winchester. The same thing that brought death to these people brought millions of dollars to Sarah ... Sarah Winchester.
And now, as Paul Harvey would say, you know the rest of the story.
Sarah spent the last 38 years of her life trapped in a castle of memories, providing a home for the restless dead, and learning how to cope with her guilt ... according to legend, at least.
You don't have to build a Winchester mansion to deal with unresolved guilt or fear of the future. I suppose we all figure out different ways, more creative ways, less expensive ways to assuage a heart that just can't seem forget or ignore a page from our past or a lie in our present or the unknown of the future.
Some of us, like Sarah, are doomed to wander the halls and entertain those poltergeists in the dead of the night when they rise to haunt us, robbing us of sleep, and preventing peace.
Maybe you know a Sarah? Maybe Sarah's story is your story. Different portfolio, different floor plan, but same insatiable quest for forgiveness and resolution.
The answers to guilt's questions are not found in a new house. The answers are not found in a distracted life. The answers are not found in simply learning how to live with the restlessness. The answers are found in the one who has the power to forgive and forget. The answers are found in the one who promises to return to those who await him and give what they have waited a lifetime to hear.
Scholars say that 2 Thessalonians was written shortly after 1 Thessalonians as a way for Paul to clarify the widespread misunderstanding of Paul's teachings concerning the return of Jesus. Many who read the first letter thought that the end time had already begun. Judging from the content of 2 Thessalonians, many had quit work, fallen into despair, and lived with a constant fear.
And now, brothers and sisters, let us tell you about the coming again of our Lord Jesus Christ and how we will be gathered together to meet him. Please don't be so easily shaken and troubled by those who say that the day of the Lord has already begun.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:1-2 (NLT)
Paul wrote this follow-up letter to reprimand them sharply, to remind them of the true teaching, and to encourage them to live lives that would prepare them for Jesus' return. It is not a letter filled with fear and horrible images of damnation. Instead, Paul reminds them of the hope that is theirs to come.
As for us, we always thank God for you, dear brothers and sisters loved by the Lord. We are thankful that God chose you to be among the first to experience salvation, a salvation that came through the Spirit who makes you holy and by your belief in the truth.
-- 2 Thessalonians 2:13 (NLT)
Paul needs to remind these young Christians who have either fallen into despair or tremble with fear about Jesus' authority to forgive sins. To have the power to forgive a person's sins is reserved only for the one who has the power, who has the authority, who sits on the right side of God as judge over the living and the dead and who promised to return one day for the cleansing of those who believe in him.
That's what the Son of Man does. That's what he came to do. That's what he has the power to perform. He forgives and then goes one step further. He forgets. He erases the board, shreds the evidence, destroys the chip, and deletes the screen. For all the things that the Son of Man promises to do for us, the one thing that he refuses to do is to remember.
... as far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us.
-- Psalm 103:12
Even if you are stained as red as crimson, I can make you white as wool.
-- Isaiah 1:18 (NLT)
I will be their God, and they shall be my people ... and I will remember their sins no more.
-- Hebrews 8:10, 12
Do you believe that?
Jesus gives us a double promise; to forgive and forget. But we don't, do we? Not as easily, anyway. We have a good memory. We are more like Sarah who entertains the ghosts of our past that still linger, robbing us of sleep and peace. What these demons that go bump in the night are doing, really, is trying to get you to forget whose you are. They are giving your spiritual journey a limp from some irritable stone in your sandal. They fill us with doubts whether or not God could actually do what he promises -- forgive and forget. That's the gift that Jesus, the Son of Man, judge of the world gives to us -- a terrible memory. He doesn't keep record of those past sins on his clipboard to check it next time you get on your knees and say you're sorry. Instead, his gift is a grace filled, mercy driven, terrible memory so you don't drive yourself crazy hanging out with the ghosts of the past.
You don't have to learn to live with your past and cope with your guilt like Sarah Winchester. You don't have to tremble and be shaken like those young Thessalonians. Jesus offers a cure.
My wife and I recently saw A Beautiful Mind. It has been a long time since a movie has made such an impact on me. It's about a lot of things -- friendship, marriage, commitment, and love. It is also about mental illness. The movie suggests what I have always thought was most often the case with mental illness. That is, most people suffering from mental illness are not "cured" like some physical diseases through treatment, drugs, or surgery. Most often those with mental illness learn how to cope or live with or even ignore their illness -- but it is still always there. Those with depression, anxiety, or, as in the case of this movie, schizophrenia, it doesn't actually go away but you learn how to deal with it, learn how to live with it, even learn how to ignore it. This movie depicts mental illness more like a bad back or diabetes or alcoholism. It never goes away but you learn ways to cope with it.
That might work with diabetes or depression. We might have wonderful drugs to mask the problems of anxiety or support groups to deal with addiction or exercises to ease lower back trouble. But when it comes to my guilt, I don't want a drug or a coping mechanism. I don't want to have to learn how to live with unresolved guilt, or cope with, live, or figure out how to ignore it. When it comes to sins, I'm not looking for a distraction or a class on how to live with it. There are too many Sarahs who are plagued with spirits of their past who rise when the sun goes down to make us doubt the very words of Jesus. I'm looking for someone who can bring a cure, wipe away all traces of it. I'm looking for a savior that Paul describes -- one who forgives and forgets.
Maybe that is why when others refer to Jesus, they use Lord, Messiah, or Christ, and he is. But when Jesus refers to himself, by far the most common title he uses is Son of Man -- the one who has the power and authority and might to heal us at our deepest level; at the level of our guilt with the power of his word, "Not guilty, for Jesus' sake."
Now you know the rest of the story. Amen.
____________
1. Max Lucado, In The Eye of the Storm (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001), p. 191.
