Jesus Remembers!

If Jesus' words are true, that life is surely not going to be the same old thing, because we know all too well the starkness of death that looms over us all.

He must be talking about a different kind of existence.

Then someone will try the old line about our loved ones “living on in our memories forever”.

How is that working out for us?

Sometimes folks build up a load of guilt when they begin to realize that they are forgetting the details of their loved ones: how they walked, the sound of their voices, etc.

And then let's take it one step further: what about a generation or two prior?

Do we remember our grandparents?

Do we know where all 8 great grandparents are buried?...and have we visited the graves of all 16 great-grandparents, or even know where they all are located?

Our memories are fragile, and fading; so Jesus must not be talking about that as the “living forever”.

We are all worried because we think that it is all up to us.

As usual, it is an egocentric problem.

If we don't remember all of the details, we think we have failed,and salvation is imperiled.

Now when it is stated that way, we begin to realize how foolish that sounds.

It is exactly backwards.

The remembering is not up to us!

The one thief on the cross has the best line in the story: “Remember me, Lord, when you come into your kingdom.”

Far more important than our remembering is that the Lord remembers us, does not abandon us, cares about us, and indeed fashions us into a new creation, which is eternal life.

That is cause for robust singing through the tears of our sorrows.

Things at the time of death are such a tangle of emotions that it is hard to keep this all straight, but having the funeral service here in the church helps a little bit.

We know what it is like in a funeral parlor, with the pink lights and the sappy background muzak and the hushed tones.

It is all about the deceased and how sad we are.

When the service is here in the nave where we have worshiped together week after week,

the colors are strong,

the hymns are bold,

the faith is proclaimed unhesitatingly,

and the emphasis is on the Lord Jesus

and how he reaches out to us

and includes us in his promise,

in life now and in resurrected life to come.

In the past several funerals here, by family request, we have sung “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”.

It is among a list of defiantly bold hymns that we might sing in the face of death.

Another one we know very well is #343,

Guide Me Ever, Great Redeemer

...Bread of heaven,

Feed me now and evermore....

When I tread the verge of Jordan

Bid my anxious fears subside

Death of death and hell's destruction

Land me safe on Canaan's side.

And still another,,#340, which we have not learned yet:

Jesus Christ, my sure defense

And my savior, ever liveth!

Knowing this, my confidence

Rests upon the hope it giveth,

Though the night of death be fraught

With many an anxious thought.

Jesus, my redeemer lives;

I, too, unto life shall waken.

He will bring me where he is;

Shall my courage, then, be shaken?

Shall I fear, or could the head

Rise and leave he members dead?

No, too closely am I bound

Unto him by hope forever;

Faith's strong hand the rock has found,

Grasped by it, and will leave it never;

Even death cannot part

From the Lord the trusting heart.

So that is the long-range view of the matter, and a good sermon in hymn-form.

In today's Hymn of the Day, we come at it from a slightly different direction, stressing the immediacy of the presence of the Lord Jesus.

Perhaps we could turn to Hymn #199 if we don't already have it marked, and examine this text alongside our Gospel lesson for the day.

There are those who want to turn Jesus into a history lesson, to say that he was a nice guy safely back there in the mists of history somewhere, whom we can think about from time to time but about whom we don't have to get too excited.

Listen to how one person tries to keep Jesus at arms-length:

“I see Jesus as an important and power- ful ancestor, someone I pay attention to and hold in high regard in terms of what his life meant to the history of the tradition I belong to. I also find the stories about him, when one reads them with some care, interesting in the ways in which they deconstruct power and privilege. He is an interesting model in many ways.” [Rita Nakashima Brock, 1994, the Re-Imagining Quarterly]

Some want to intellectualize Jesus so that the faith is only information about Jesus rather than trust in him.

Prayer then becomes giving yourself a pep-talk, and confession is self-coaching.

Others want to spiritualize Jesus and say that he is floating off somewhere else, safely in heaven somewhere, but certainly not here and now, intruding in what you and I want to say and do today.

That would be... inconvenient.

But this hymn by the medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas reminds us that the Lord Jesus, in a wonderful and yet mysterious way, remembers us today as well as at the end of our lives, and makes himself available to us now also.

Thee we adore, O hidden Savior...

...here thy presence we devoutly hail.

We cannot figure out how this is possible in the Holy Communion, any more than the hearers of Jesus could figure out his words “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me....”

His very being is tied up in the sharing of this particular bread and wine, just because he says so.

– not because the pastor says so,

– not because we are worthy enough for it to be so,

– not because we want it to be so,

– but simply because Jesus says so, and what Jesus says, is, happens, and will be.

Increase our faith and love,

that we may know

The hope and peace

which from Christ's presence flow.

The hymn-writer helps us pray for Jesus' presence with us now as well as the promise of the future,

The vision of thy glory, and thy grace,

[when we] gaze on thee unveiled, and see thy face.

The hymn balances present experience and future expectation.

Jesus will remember us in both cases.

That is the day's Good news.

This story happened about 25 years ago in a large church in Florida.

Since this was a large church, there were a number of servers for Holy Communion.

A man whom the pastor didn't recognize joined the servers line, but the pastor assumed that the Worship committee had recruited someone new and hadn't informed him yet.

The elements were placed in his hands, but the new man froze.

“What do I do now?” he whispered.

“You're receiving the Body and Blood of Christ”, whispered the pastor, “and then you're going to share them with others.”

Very nervously, the man followed the example of the other servers.

After the service, the man approached the pastor, and before he could say a word, threw his arms around the pastor and wept loudly.

A woman came over and introduced herself as his wife, and explained that the man had been on drugs for years, had never been in this church before, but had heard the Good News of Jesus that week, and had resolved to announce his intention to begin the process of becoming a member.

When the pastor asked the servers to come forward, he thought that was the time to announce his intention, and so he came forward.

The pastor, rather than admonishing the man for breaking all of the rules of good order, said, “Jesus loves you so much that he took this opportunity when you decided to show up here today to give you the most precious gift the church has – his own Body and Blood – and told you to go give Jesus to other people.

“But I didn't know what I was doing,” the young man wept.

“None of us knows fully what we are doing,” replied the pastor.

“We just hear the Word with joy, and obey, and God continues to give good gifts all the while.”

Even when we don't, Jesus remembers, now and always. 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.