SEVENTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

A sermon delivered to Christ Church, Anacortes, WA 

Collect:

O God, the King of glory, you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven: Do not leave us comfortless, but send us your Holy Spirit to strengthen us, and exalt us to that place where our Savior Christ has gone before; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

There’s a lot going on today. Today is Mother’s Day, of course. It’s not a day you’ll see on the Church Calendar; it’s an American holiday. But we recognize the importance of being nurtured when we come into this world, whether we are nurtured by our mothers or fathers, aunts, grandparents, caring teachers at school, foster parents, Sunday school teachers.

People who care for us, who watch over us help us understand a little something about the nature of God. After all, since we were created in the image of God, there is something we can learn about God from one another.

Scientists, psychologists, and medical professionals all confirm the importance of our bonding from the time we are born, or maybe even from the time we are conceived; how important that is for our physical and for our mental health and emotional well-being. How we bond with one another helps us understand how we can bond with God.

If you’ve been to California and visited the Redwood forests and walked around the Giant Sequoias, you’ve no doubt been impressed by how large and tall those trees are. What’s amazing, though, is how shallow their roots are. You would think those massive trees must have an equally massive taproot reaching down towards China or Australia to handle the physics of standing upright, but they don’t. Those massive trees send their roots out sideways, and they intertwine with the roots of their neighbors so that they stand, not alone, but in community. They support one another so that even when those powerful storms blow in off the Pacific, they’re able to stand tall, because they stand together.

It’s always dangerous to speak in generalities, because there are always exceptions. We’re old enough here where many of our mothers have gone or passed away. There are children in our community waking up on Mother’s Day where they know Mom was murdered; others where their Moms are incarcerated; others where their Moms have abandoned them. We live in a broken world. 

We know that; God knows that, too.

There are probably a lot of Hallmark Mothers in our community (and a lot of them are here, too, as we speak), but there are also enough exceptions that we need to be careful. So we honor our mothers, but we do so honestly.  Each of us has a story to tell. Some of us grew up with stable homes; others not so stable. 

Jesus was blessed to have a Mother and two fathers. Sure, he was born in a barn, but maybe that’s how he turned out so stable, eh?

So we honor mothers, but especially the nurturers. However God fashioned them for us, whether they have a biological tie to us or not; it doesn’t matter – we honor them. We honor those who bore us, who raised us up, who nurtured us, who took care of us, who watched over us.

I can still remember walking to school by myself for the first time. My mother would walk me to school every day throughout kindergarten and on into 1st Grade. It was a bit of a hike. We were on the edge of the boundary for Whittier Elementary. It was uphill in both directions, of course, and we had to cross 15th Avenue, which was a pretty busy street, even in the mid-1950s.

One day Mom told me I was old enough to go to school on my own. I knew the way, but the idea of making that trip all by myself was pretty scary. As you can probably tell, I made it. I knew the way. I knew how to look both ways before crossing the street. I knew to cross 15th at the light at 80th. It was better to cross there so I wouldn’t have to walk past a couple of sleazy establishments  further down the road.

I was pretty much of an airhead as a young lad. Today, I’d probably be called ADHD, but back then I was just an absent-minded youngster making my way to school, oblivious to the world around me. I don’t know if she ever followed me those first few days I went to school solo, but even if Mom wasn’t with me physically, she was with me in the confidence I had to make that journey. 

I think Jesus gave his disciples confidence for their journey. He sent them out 2 x 2 during his ministry with them. Like Mom, when they came back, he asked them, “How was it?” 

When they told him how excited they were, how people were healed, and helped, and demons cast aside, you could see Jesus bursting with a Momma’s pride, “You done good, guys and gals. You done good!”

Today is the seventh Sunday of Easter. We’re in the middle of that ten day period we call Ascensiontide. It’s that scary little gap between Jesus going home and God’s Spirit pouring down upon us. 

For me, the Ascension isn’t as much about Jesus heading home to God, but Jesus letting go of us, just like Mom let go of me those many years ago.

Another story – another image.

There’s a priest over at St. Paul’s in Mount Vernon who has a hawk (Elrond). He takes the hawk down to the valley to fly loose. That way Elrond gets to stretch his wings, exercise, and do what hawks do (as raptors).

One day a few months back, Elrond decided he didn’t want to come back to Paul. He wanted his freedom. He didn’t come when called; he ignored the lures and the wounded rabbit noise-maker. 

Every day for a week or two, Paul went down to the valley, hiking, seeking, calling for Elrond. He could see his beloved hawk up in the trees, totally ignoring him. But then, one day, Elrond apparently had finally had enough of freedom. The hawk decided that life in the wild wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Elrond came home, much to Fr. Paul’s great delight.

The story of the Prodigal son comes to mind, doesn’t it? We rejoice when our kids come home, don’t we? So does God, our Prodigal mother!

Another story – another image.

Many years ago when our son was only about 4 years old, we went down to WSU to watch the Cougars take on the Oregon Ducks at Martin Stadium. During the game, our son needed to use the restroom, so (of course) I took him. When he was done, it was my turn and I told him to wait for me, but when I turned around he was gone. In a sea of 35,000 souls, I’d lost our first-born male heir! I’ll be honest; I wasn’t as worried for him as I was about what Barb would do to me for losing him in the first place! Fortunately, he’d simply gone straight back to where his mother was sitting and waiting (so I didn’t have to tell her I’d lost him). But I told her, and we laughed about it.

God knows we’re human. God knows we sometimes get lost or confused. God knows we sometimes worry more about our own skin than that of those we’re called to love and care for. Acknowledging our faults draws us closer to one another. Making amends heals our relationships with God and with one another.

So what are we doing here today?

Jesus ascends to his Father and says to the Disciples, “Wait here. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you without One who will strengthen you and remind you of everything I taught you.”

That’s the Christian Faith in a nutshell, isn’t it? We aren’t alone in this. 

Even when Jesus is out of sight, we’ve still got him here ♥️. We don’t look both ways before crossing the street because them’s the rules, but because our parents live inside of us; they’re guiding us from within, so we’re not even really aware of their presence, but we are living out of their presence.

In the Gospel, we find Jesus praying. His prayer boils down to this: “Father, I’ve done my best. What you gave to me, I have given to my disciples, and what I have done, they are doing. You will be more than pleased by their work. They will bring honor and glory to your house and make you proud!”

It is that confidence I find striking in the Gospel today. It’s the confidence Jesus has in us to do the right thing. What is the right thing?

What does God require of us? The prophet Micah says: “To be just and fair, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.”

When the student of the Law asked Jesus what he needed to do to inherit eternal life, what did Jesus say? “To love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and your neighbor as yourself.” 

When the lawyer said, “Yeah, I’ve done all that. Anything else?”

Jesus answered him: “Yeah, don’t be so stingy.”

Now, we can get all caught up on the details, like Peter asking how often we should forgive (70 times 7!), or like the lawyer who asked, “Oh yeah, and who on earth is ‘my neighbor’?” (The one you'd rather be dead than let them touch you).

But the bottom line in every case is the same: “Are the words of this mouth and the meditation of this heart pleasing to God?” When an opportunity arises to be fair, to be loving, to be merciful, to be humble, to be kind – are we? 

Do the words that come out of our mouths and the things we do with our hands and feet bring glory to God, or something less?

On those rare occasions I committed some great transgression, my mother’s response was almost never to scold, but to say, “You can do better,” or “You know better than that.” I think God is a lot like that. I think we greatly overestimate how many handbaskets God owns, to send us packing to the hot spot. 

I believe God has one handbag and is determined to bring us all home in it. I think that’s the point Jesus is making. For God, you and I are God’s treasure. 

A final story:

My grandmother would sometimes take my brother and me for the weekend; it was always a treat for us (probably a treat for my parents, come to think of it). My brother and I never had to worry about anything. Mammam took perfect care of us. Every now and then she would give us a real special treat. We’d get all dressed up and go downtown Seattle to see a movie at the Martin Cinerama or the Paramount; top notch films like Spartacus, or How the West was Won, or even JAIL HOUSE ROCK. Can you believe it? Grandma really liked old swivel-hips, himself!

Mammam always took care of the bus fare, and once we were on our way, she’d reach deep into her handbag and bring out her real treasures: individually wrapped butterscotch candies!

They weren’t rewards for good behavior, nor were they bribes to get us to sit quietly. No, they were just tokens of her love for us; sweets for her sweets.

I think of that when we break the bread or share the cup; It’s an image of God reaching into her purse and sharing a token of her love for us, sharing a token of her love with us. Sweets for her sweets. 

May the blessings of God our Mother be upon each and every one of us this day, and always; in Jesus' Name we pray. AMEN