In the Fullness of Time

Twenty-some years ago our family had a dear friend Jessie who was living with an inoperable aneurysm, a weak place in a major blood vessel that might break at any time and bring about instant death.

I said living with and not dying with, because she did not let that terrible knowledge hold her back.

She walked up and down the hills in town.

She participated in everything at church, she knew most of the people around town, and everything about them.

She was a faithful helper and advisor to the pastors of the parish over decades.

She said, “It may kill me sometime, but it won't kill me bit by bit right now.”

And on she went.

Life had not been easy for her.

She had been widowed for many years.

She had family heartaches.

But on she marched until her eventual death, actually from something other than the aneurysm.

Some of these details remind us a bit of our Lillian, and there is one thing which is very much the same: their bodies were wearing out, but their faith was unbowed.

Lillian and I sat down last January to talk about this day, and she specified some of the things in this service which she wanted us to hear and do

It was to be much like the service we had for Randy 9 ½ years ago, and she especially wanted us to sing the Nunc dimittis as we will a bit later.

It is Simeon's song of faith and trust and joy at beholding the Son of God.

She felt that it was so appropriate at the end of the Holy Communion service, and also at a funeral.

Lord, now you let your servant depart in peace. Mine eyes have seen your salvation which you have prepared....

Now is the time, God's good time, the right time.

It comes at the end of living life to its fullest until the Lord Jesus picks up that life and remakes it for the company of heaven.

Often in our conversations with Holy Communion over the past few years she said, “I'm not afraid. I know what is coming, and I look forward to communion with the whole church and people like Sister Mildred, and Randy.”

“One thing I do,” says Paul in Philippians,

“forgetting was lies behind and straining forward toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

We know some of the difficulties that Paul faced, and the threat of death pursued him often.

Yet on he goes, doing and saying what needs to be done and said in the name of the Lord whose word and promise are trustworthy.

For the Gospel today we heard the story of Simeon who was looking for that goal, and we hear his song of trust when he was privileged to see the infant Jesus being brought into the temple.

Oh, what wondrous things God has done!

What even greater wonders lie ahead that we do not yet know.

And the best things of all will not be the things we accomplish, but rather will be the things which we receive as gifts from God.

That is one of the points of the First Lesson today from Psalm 121.

We don't look to the hills for our help, because those were the places where the altars of sacrifice to the old gods were located.

One did things, one made sacrifices, in order to force or cajole the gods to do what one wanted.

No, a thousand times no!

The Lord God Almighty simply gives what we need: life and creation, hope and preservation.

We are invited to say Thank You, to make good use of all of those blessings and resources and opportunities.

“Surely your goodness shall follow all the days of my life,” says the Psalmist.

And the Lord will keep the connections always, whether we think that we are strong, or whether we recognize just how weak and frail we are.

“I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

What shall you and I do, when we have waited like Simeon, when we have pressed on like Paul, when we have set our sights on the one true God and have received his gifts with joy?

We don't try to hide from God, or waste time complaining, or feel sorry for ourselves.

None of those attitudes fit.

Rather, we grab hold of the hope and expectation as Lillian held it,

--remember the promise made to us in Holy Baptism,

--anticipate that Jesus will make good on his promises

--sing Simeon's song with confidence,

--look for and take up the tasks which God sets in front of us, just as the Psalmist urges.

--And do so with the confidence of Paul that the fellowship of the saints began in Holy Baptism with Lillian and all God's beloved sons and daughters.

The fellowship that strengthened each time we gather for Holy Communion will continue until in God's good time it shall be complete at the full banquet table of heaven.

“One thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

Some have said that living with a life-threatening illness is like living on borrowed time.

But every minute of every day is “borrowed time,” because it is God's time which he shares generously with us.

I was delighted that during most of the months that Lillian was in her apartment and until the illness became too difficult, she did not focus on woe-is-me in our conversations, but much more on the events in the congregation, and the problems of society around us, and what she and we might do about them.

What a positive thing!

In like manner, let's endeavor to use God's time well, as we remember Lillian in thanksgiving. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.