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Jeremiah 31:15-22 May 24, 2009 1 John 4: 7-10a, 11-12, 16-18a. Perfect Love Casts Out Fear Let us pray, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts, be blessed in your sight, O God, Our Rock and our Compassion. Amen. The sun burnt down on the white sandy beach near Plymouth, Massachusetts . In my memory, I still feel the heat of the sands and hear the ripples of the fresh water stream as it bubbled and gurgled its way, over the rocks to the ocean. It was mid-July, and as a little girl of four, the scene has been burned into my memory. I recall my Auntie Ellen , rushing off the bus from Boston with tears streaming down her cheeks and a letter waving in her hand, not stopping to even say hello to me!. As she reached the small white cottage, my father let out such a cry of pain and agony, he was doubled over and weeping like I had never seen. I never even knew fathers cried! The sobs were unbearable. The Western Union telegram read, Robert McNally( my father’s little brother) age 20, was missing in action in the vast “European Theatre” of World War II .Within ten days, Uncle Bobby was declared officially dead and laid to rest in an Italian hillside, outside of Florence. Later, my father would tell the sad story of the Cambridge funeral, where only the Military Full Dress portrait of Uncle Bobby and the Purple Heart medal were displayed and honored. With the solemn playing of Taps at the funeral, my father’s heartbroken sobs and tears flowed once more. Scenes like our own were repeated through out the war. The terrible price of another “war to end all wars” echoed in every home in our neighborhood. Months later when a parcel arrived, we found in it, Bobby’s small leather duffel bag, looking almost like a small boxer’s punching bag, holding simple things: his dog tags, his mere belongings, and some papers. To a little girl it all seemed so sad, and confusing. War seemed to go with hate, tears seemed to go with deep love. Walter de la Mare, a poet writes of a tragedy like ours: To Edward Thomas, brother. You sleep too well-too far away, For sorrowing words, to soothe or wound; Your very quiet seems to say How longed-for a peace you have found.
Else, had not death so lured you on. You would have grieved-twixt joy and fear- To know how my small loving child Had wept for you my dear. ( ToE.T:1917) If we dare to look way back down the road of life, past many wars and violent deaths, we see the prophet, Jeremiah, a friend of God, bent over and wandering in Exile with his defeated people, fleeing in fear towards Egypt. This day, I brought an old portrait of Jeremiah, a biblical friend of mine. His lifetime burden had been to try to wake up Jerusalem and all its peoples. In the time of the ancients, Jerusalem was destroyed, the Temple ransacked and the whole precious area desecrated. The Babylonian armies had taken charge and the people were in agony and driven from their lands. No other prophet other than Jeremiah preached and prophesied so loudly, with such rancor, and for so long,(over 40 years) about the coming “Fall of Jerusalem”…Now, despite all his warnings, it had been accomplished. Once again, the wailing was profound. The year was 587 B.C. Scripture holds up a gift for us today, a chance to know and hear the word of God through Jeremiah, the prophet, God’s mouthpiece, whose heart pulsed within the heart of God. The Book of Jeremiah tells an incredible tale of intrigue, suffering, lamentations and weeping .Despite all this, Jeremiah had a devotion to truth and justice, love and forgiveness, holding on firmly to a vision of renewal. Yet, his, was a solitary life of scolding other prophets, kings, the temple priests, and the people. He claimed :“everyone is greedy for unjust gain; they heal lightly while saying peace, peace, when there is no peace; and they do not know how to blush.”(Jer.6:13-15). He lived out his ministry during fiercely troubled times. Often he was imprisoned, tossed into a cistern and bitterly rejected, even by his own family! What do you remember of Jeremiah? Perhaps his call is familiar, in which he made great efforts to wriggle away from God, saying, “Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” Well, that didn’t work Soon we discover that God had called Jeremiah since before he was born. Jeremiah heard those words which are also meant for you and me. God reminds us through Jeremiah: “I have loved you with an everlasting love .I have called you and you are mine.” (Jeremiah 31:3). What a gift. “hesed”: the only Hebrew word I really know, meaning the gift of God’s loving kindness. The terms of Jeremiah’s call were very tough. “See I have appointed you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.”(Jer. 1:10f.) Probably you too, would favor the “to build and to plant” part of that call! And yet, he cried out with disappointment and with sadness. Some writers line up our modern day prophets like Gandhi, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr, Dali Lama, Mandela and Dorothy Day. behind Jeremiah. These are all prophets whose hearts broke; open to a hopefulness and love that holds the possibility of a better future for us all. (A Hidden Wholeness, Parker Palmer, p.179). As we listen closely to Jeremiah’s tortured words about war, it dawns on us, and other scholars, that the word of God becomes enmeshed with Jeremiah’s words. As Jeremiah weeps, we hear also God’s cry: “My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain! Oh the walls of my heart! My heart is beating wildly, I cannot keep silent; I hear the trumpet sound, the alarm of war”. (Jeremiah 4:19) I would love to urge you to stand on tip-toes here to honor the sobs of a God whose heart is wounded along with ours, whose breath is intimately woven into the world we occupy. A God who is love, a God who suffers with, a God who abides with us; a weeping God is Jeremiah’s portrait of God, reminding us on this Memorial Day, our sobs are never only our own .We are supported by a whole cloud of witnesses, by a God who cares, in this church community nurtured on love. Jeremiah stands out in the history of Hebrew Scriptures, as a weeping prophet so very well versed in misery, Yet, also he was a beloved one whose tears God has wiped away, while Jeremiah walked into Exile, along with war’s wounded people awaiting God’s call to return. We know, today there are prophets in our midst who need to pronounce the words of condemnation, who need to raise up broken promises, and burn when hearing the cheap talk of peace and the unholy alliances or unlawful torturing. Pointing without bitterness or rancor but with faithful pressure, is indeed a radical call of our present day prophets. Maybe in your heart, you can name some? Look around you and see the prophets. They live in the hope, not unlike Jeremiah’s, of awakening us to what is just in our world. These prophets of today call us to the depths of our being, begging us to stay involved, to become a model of a love whose boundaries are justice and whose welcome is endless. One thing I know for sure, about these prophets, “In their journey and their devotion, they become part of God” (anon.). Scripture invites every one of us today and each day to be come co-creators, co-lovers and co-workers with God and one another. Despite the fear and pain that may be part of our lives, our task appears to be to stir up one another to love and good works, to celebrate together, to console one another, and to nurture the lost and the broken hearted. In a perfect world, or hopefully even in our day-to-day world, being co-creators of our lives seems possible. But what about the many times of pain and the places of fear we walk through, what about the crippling poverty we have seen around the world and in our own towns, what about the days when we just want to take a long nap and lay low from involvement, and judgment, and escape. All sound objections but like Jesus’ call to the disciples, I suggest we “Cast our nets out on the other side of our boat.” and prepare for the catch!! Begin to do the deeds of love, as if your life and the lives of all around you depend on it! To transcend fear, we must move somewhere, we must move into love. Give up fear and choose love, even if it is an aching choice. Doing the deeds of love, what does that mean? My take on it is to take a step in love: practice prayer and quiet being, or choose to be bold in the world. Some signs of faithfulness in love are mentioned here but. you know by heart, others, waiting to be put into practice. Perhaps a walk in the park, an afternoon in the garden with a friend, time to gather and respect memories with another, a visit with someone who misses you, giving a token of care: flowers or poems, keeping a purple heart on your mantle, sharing a story with a child, opening a room to share, dusting off a welcome mat at your doorway, planning to make a caring trip nearby or to the other side of the world to seek justice with others .All good things, all speak of love. Throughout the world, the haunting sound of Taps will sound for many, those we know and those known only to God. Ahead of us are future days of strife and fear, all signs of our imperfect world. Still we are hopeful in God, as we struggle to be a free people, welcoming the world. Listening to Taps reminds us of Mother Jones good advice, “honor the dead and fight like hell for the living.” Early yesterday, our oldest son, Rick called from Germany, where he is living with his wife and two dear sons. He had researched some of the tragedy of WWII and had these facts: Our uncle Bobby was in a jeep in Northern Italy, early in the war, when a mine exploded under his army vehicle causing death and havoc. Once more, we are reminded of the utter devastation of war. And so, we turn to prayer: O Healer, O Beloved One. We yearn to live in peace. Strengthen our sense of justice. Awaken us to your light, like the nourishing sun. Invite us once more to turn our worries, our anxieties, our losses, our sicknesses- to turn them over to you, to surrender. Co-create our lives anew. We shall not fear the dark places ahead, or the terrible strife. Bring each one of us with all those who are our neighbors back to your table of justice and love, keep us from the house of fear. Give us gladness to feast on. Amen.
Elaine McNally Fitzpatrick First Congregational Church of Old Lyme
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