There Is No Condemnation
Sermon
The Word Is Life
An Anthology Of Funeral Meditations
On behalf of the ____________ family, I want to thank you for being here today to remember ____________ and give thanks to God for his life. Death draws us together within a web of common, sometimes conflicting, feelings. Your presence and support are vital to this family and will be for some time to come.
Let us pray: Gracious God, gather us together under the banner of your Word. Pierce our darkness with your light. In the name of Christ our Lord. Amen.
Yesterday, after the 11 a.m. service here at ____________, one of our senior members said to me, ''My heart is broken.'' Of course her heart was broken. She had lost a member of her church family. She spoke for all of us then, and I daresay she speaks for all of us now.
____________: Our hearts are broken, too. We, too, have lost a member of our church family, a fellow committeeman, a brother in the choir, a co--worker, an employee, a boss, a friend, a neighbor. Because ____________ is gone, something in us is gone.
And our hearts are broken for you. How many times have you heard, in these past four days, the words, ''If I can do anything, please let me know?'' There is much we can do, but there is much more that we cannot do, and that grieves us all.
As we rummage around in our sadness to find some comfort, the first place we turn is to our memories of ____________ himself. We remember him as a man who loved his wife and daughters dearly, who was patient and gave you space when you needed it. He thought ____________ and ____________ were the cleverest two kids he'd ever seen. And he followed ____________ short life with intense concern both for his grandson and for his daughter and son--in--law.
We also remember his love of music. How could we forget? He started singing in church choirs when he was a boy and carried it through in every church he joined. He infected the family with musical talent by passing on his gifts to the girls and making singalongs a special activity around the piano. Nothing pleased him more than for his daughters to play or sing on Sunday morning or perform in school productions.
____________ loved the church for more than its music. It was a center of his life, and he made it a center of the family's life. He brought to us a definite ____________ slant on things. He jumped into committee work and long--range planning with the enthusiasm of a life--long member, even though he'd only been with us a short time. At every congregational dinner, he was a fixture in the kitchen, helping to prepare and clean up, because that's just what you do.
Each of you has some memory of ____________, or perhaps of knowing him through ____________. How good it is to have those dear memories of him. But memories alone will get us only so far. Then they drive us back to troubled waters. We need something more to help us through our pain today. We need the gospel word. And that word tells us some very important things.
First, it tells us that though our nagging questions may never be answered, we are not left alone with them. All of us are shaken. We wonder, ''How could this happen?'' ''Why didn't I see the clues?'' ''What could I have said and done to prevent this?'' ''How can someone so close to me have been such a mystery?'' Questions like this haunt us because we are so sorrowful and because we feel so powerless.
Some people believe that Christianity is primarily a religion of answers. But our faith is more profoundly a religion of presence. Even when the questions seem to have no answers, God is present for us in our confusion, guilt, and impotence. ''We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.'' When we are grieving, answers comfort us far less than do the sighs of a fellow--traveller. God is that fellow--traveller.
Secondly, the word reminds us, in case we would ever forget, that God's love is unconditional. I believe that ____________ knew that God forgave and accepted him even in those dark moments when he could not forgive or accept himself. Scriptures are clear on this: There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Not even our despair can change God's love, for it is steadfast. What is most important is not our feelings about ourselves, which go up and down, but God's acceptance of us which never wavers.
Thirdly, God himself has suffered, and, as the martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, ''Only a suffering God can help.'' How could our Lord possibly be put off by the feelings that constitute our grief, since those feelings are God's gift to us? Even though they can be strong and unwelcome, feelings are the vehicle for helping us travel through this time. God honors human emotion and stands by us in it, because God knows what it is like to have a part of yourself torn away by death.
This suffering God can also encourage us to be more aware of and accepting of our own brokenness. We live in a culture which sets unusually high standards of success and marks failure as the deadliest sin. And yet the very symbol of our faith, the cross, was at one time the ultimate sign of failure. Jesus of Nazareth was condemned as a charlatan, a fake. He was considered too much trouble to tolerate.
Why, then, do we find ourselves so unacceptable when we do not meet those cultural standards? If the cross teaches us anything, it is that because God accepts our brokenness, we must, too. God doesn't ask for perfection but for authenticity. Surely ____________ death can push us to pray for the
courage to look deeply inside ourselves and accept whatever we find there, as we know our Lord does. And we must remember that self--acceptance is a shining witness to God's acceptance. We know today, more than ever, how much the world needs to hear that good news.
Finally, this suffering God of ours can teach us how to live in community. We cannot afford to live for ourselves alone. We are indeed our brothers' and sisters' keepers, just as surely as they are ours. The church is designed to be a place where we are little Christs to one another. Because we are limited, sinful people, we need one another. When life is too dark for me, you can carry the candle of hope. When the burden is too heavy for you, I can share the load. When you are too despairing to pray, we can lift up our united voices on your behalf. Jesus never intended us to be anything except interdependent. Interdependence makes us less afraid to let others in to the secret places where we hurt, so that healing can begin.
This is the season of Lent. It is a natural time to dig more deeply into our spiritual center, to probe the critical questions of life. But it is also a time to look forward. For at the end of this season comes Easter. ____________ knew about the resurrection. He knew about a Lord who can make the dead to rise to life eternal, wiping away all tears and bringing joy in the morning. We look to that morning, to that resurrection life which is ours even now, even in this hurtful, sorrowful time. Our risen Lord calls again to each of us from that Easter morning which is never lost in time, but comes to us again and again to raise us up. Amen.
Let us pray: Gracious God, gather us together under the banner of your Word. Pierce our darkness with your light. In the name of Christ our Lord. Amen.
Yesterday, after the 11 a.m. service here at ____________, one of our senior members said to me, ''My heart is broken.'' Of course her heart was broken. She had lost a member of her church family. She spoke for all of us then, and I daresay she speaks for all of us now.
____________: Our hearts are broken, too. We, too, have lost a member of our church family, a fellow committeeman, a brother in the choir, a co--worker, an employee, a boss, a friend, a neighbor. Because ____________ is gone, something in us is gone.
And our hearts are broken for you. How many times have you heard, in these past four days, the words, ''If I can do anything, please let me know?'' There is much we can do, but there is much more that we cannot do, and that grieves us all.
As we rummage around in our sadness to find some comfort, the first place we turn is to our memories of ____________ himself. We remember him as a man who loved his wife and daughters dearly, who was patient and gave you space when you needed it. He thought ____________ and ____________ were the cleverest two kids he'd ever seen. And he followed ____________ short life with intense concern both for his grandson and for his daughter and son--in--law.
We also remember his love of music. How could we forget? He started singing in church choirs when he was a boy and carried it through in every church he joined. He infected the family with musical talent by passing on his gifts to the girls and making singalongs a special activity around the piano. Nothing pleased him more than for his daughters to play or sing on Sunday morning or perform in school productions.
____________ loved the church for more than its music. It was a center of his life, and he made it a center of the family's life. He brought to us a definite ____________ slant on things. He jumped into committee work and long--range planning with the enthusiasm of a life--long member, even though he'd only been with us a short time. At every congregational dinner, he was a fixture in the kitchen, helping to prepare and clean up, because that's just what you do.
Each of you has some memory of ____________, or perhaps of knowing him through ____________. How good it is to have those dear memories of him. But memories alone will get us only so far. Then they drive us back to troubled waters. We need something more to help us through our pain today. We need the gospel word. And that word tells us some very important things.
First, it tells us that though our nagging questions may never be answered, we are not left alone with them. All of us are shaken. We wonder, ''How could this happen?'' ''Why didn't I see the clues?'' ''What could I have said and done to prevent this?'' ''How can someone so close to me have been such a mystery?'' Questions like this haunt us because we are so sorrowful and because we feel so powerless.
Some people believe that Christianity is primarily a religion of answers. But our faith is more profoundly a religion of presence. Even when the questions seem to have no answers, God is present for us in our confusion, guilt, and impotence. ''We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.'' When we are grieving, answers comfort us far less than do the sighs of a fellow--traveller. God is that fellow--traveller.
Secondly, the word reminds us, in case we would ever forget, that God's love is unconditional. I believe that ____________ knew that God forgave and accepted him even in those dark moments when he could not forgive or accept himself. Scriptures are clear on this: There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Not even our despair can change God's love, for it is steadfast. What is most important is not our feelings about ourselves, which go up and down, but God's acceptance of us which never wavers.
Thirdly, God himself has suffered, and, as the martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, ''Only a suffering God can help.'' How could our Lord possibly be put off by the feelings that constitute our grief, since those feelings are God's gift to us? Even though they can be strong and unwelcome, feelings are the vehicle for helping us travel through this time. God honors human emotion and stands by us in it, because God knows what it is like to have a part of yourself torn away by death.
This suffering God can also encourage us to be more aware of and accepting of our own brokenness. We live in a culture which sets unusually high standards of success and marks failure as the deadliest sin. And yet the very symbol of our faith, the cross, was at one time the ultimate sign of failure. Jesus of Nazareth was condemned as a charlatan, a fake. He was considered too much trouble to tolerate.
Why, then, do we find ourselves so unacceptable when we do not meet those cultural standards? If the cross teaches us anything, it is that because God accepts our brokenness, we must, too. God doesn't ask for perfection but for authenticity. Surely ____________ death can push us to pray for the
courage to look deeply inside ourselves and accept whatever we find there, as we know our Lord does. And we must remember that self--acceptance is a shining witness to God's acceptance. We know today, more than ever, how much the world needs to hear that good news.
Finally, this suffering God of ours can teach us how to live in community. We cannot afford to live for ourselves alone. We are indeed our brothers' and sisters' keepers, just as surely as they are ours. The church is designed to be a place where we are little Christs to one another. Because we are limited, sinful people, we need one another. When life is too dark for me, you can carry the candle of hope. When the burden is too heavy for you, I can share the load. When you are too despairing to pray, we can lift up our united voices on your behalf. Jesus never intended us to be anything except interdependent. Interdependence makes us less afraid to let others in to the secret places where we hurt, so that healing can begin.
This is the season of Lent. It is a natural time to dig more deeply into our spiritual center, to probe the critical questions of life. But it is also a time to look forward. For at the end of this season comes Easter. ____________ knew about the resurrection. He knew about a Lord who can make the dead to rise to life eternal, wiping away all tears and bringing joy in the morning. We look to that morning, to that resurrection life which is ours even now, even in this hurtful, sorrowful time. Our risen Lord calls again to each of us from that Easter morning which is never lost in time, but comes to us again and again to raise us up. Amen.
