“Providing Shelter”
A Sermon by Rev. Patrice Ficken
John 14:23-29
Sanbornton Congregational Church, UCC
May 13, 2007
(Please do not re-print or re-use without permission of the author)
“The crows awoke (last) Sunday to an all but lifeless landscape in the farming town (of
As the New York Times account continued, last “Friday’s monster tornado, over a mile wide, was so efficient it looked as though a giant hammer had smashed Greenburg, population formerly 1,500.”
The county clerk, Evelyn Grimm said, “There’s nothing left. It’s the end of the world, all the things you’ve lived with, all your life, they’re just not there…About that quick, everything you’ve valued forever is gone.” (“An Empty Place Where a Kansas Town Once Stood, by Adam Nossiter, The New York Times, May 7, 2007)
It’s hard to imagine such devastation – that in a matter of moments – everything that provided shelter, a sense of belonging – for the residents of
Maybe it’s because my sisters and I are in the process of clearing out our family’s home that it seems like a lot of people I’ve talked to recently are also going through the same process – either because they’re moving, or a loved one has died.
What a process it is. Going through boxes filled with pictures and family memorabilia. Stumbling upon objects that carry memories or special significance. It is so hard to decide what to keep and what to let go of.
In Jesus’ farewell speech to his disciples in this 14th chapter of John – Jesus seeks to help his disciples to understand what they must let go of and what they may keep.
He tells them they must let go of Jesus’ physical presence.
What they may keep are Jesus’ words, his teachings, his Spirit. Jesus says, “I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you all I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you . I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:25-27)
These very words, many of us need to hear today as we celebrate Mother’s Day. Some have very recently mourned their mothers’ passing. Others still feel a pang even after many years of saying goodbye.
Our parents – our mothers and fathers – are the ones with whom we associate shelter, love, safety, home. And when both of our parents are gone – there is a strange, new found sense of vulnerability.
I left home 30 years ago but still was not prepared for the desolation I initially felt when I lost the second parent.
Of course, other people and places can provide shelter -- such as churches. When I hear people express that our church feels welcoming and safe – I know we are on the right path. This intangible feeling of “safety” and “sanctuary” is very precious indeed.
Yet sometimes, our desire to be welcoming and to provide sanctuary and safety become a difficult balance:
The desire to keep children safe who have life-threatening allergies, by providing speedy and appropriate care with a desire for our volunteers to feel comfortable about supervising our children.
The desire to provide children with severe allergies the same freedom to interact with others with the need to restrict bringing certain foods into our church in order to allow this freedom.
I am happy to say that our dialogue yesterday yielded many ideas for allowing us to achieve this balance.
A second, much more challenging example – has received widespread media attention in recent weeks. An open and affirming,
The debate has been heart-rending for parents, responsible for their children’s safety and especially painful for survivors of abuse.
They too have been engaged in dialogue of how to balance – hospitality and safety. How to continue to provide shelter for their congregation, while still being welcoming.
They voted to allow the individual in question to attend their church – but only if he was willing to have an escort with him at all times. He is also being introduced slowly – not attending worship right now, and only attending smaller group meetings. (See article: “Sex Offenders Test Churches’ Core Beliefs” by Neela Banerjee, The New York Times, April 10, 2007)
The solution this church reached would not necessarily work for all churches.
These very different examples show that there are times – when our own sense of safety may need to be stretched and challenged – so that the circle of belonging; so that the shelter of welcome and hospitality can keep growing and expanding. Sometimes we may need to let go of a measure of our comfort, to allow another to be free, to have an opportunity to know what we have ourselves have known and cherished.
We realize when natural disasters strike, like the one that struck Greensburg, Kansas – how easy it is for us to make “safety” and “security” a false idol. We can feather our nests, accumulate possessions, surround ourselves with things that give us a measure or feeling of safety – only to have it all stripped away in an instant. Reminding us again and again - it is not the structures, the things we gather that are important but what we treasure in our hearts.
We all know people with whom we feel safe, in whose presence we feel a sense of shelter, warmth, belonging. We might ask, what is this quality and what is the quality of our own presence? What have we kept, what have we treasured, and what do we need to we let go?
Let us pray,
Oh Gracious God,
Through the storms of life,
we thank you for the one place of true shelter –
your Word of peace and your Love which will never let us go.
Amen.
