Piece of the Lord - May 13th, 2007
If any person ever fit the stereotype of a mad scientist, Alfred was
the guy. His family had been involved in the explosives industry for many
years. They were very secretive. In 1864, an accident with the unstable
substance nitroglycerin shattered his laboratory in
Frightened officials then banned all experiments with nitroglycerin
within the city, and this strange inventor was forced to carry on his work
outside the city limits on a barge on the lake. In the middle of the night,
the locals could see strange noises and lights coming from this floating
fortress, and they wondered what diabolical plans were taking shape out
there.
At first Nobel believed that his invention would usher in a new era
of world peace. The destructive power of dynamite, he said, would make war
obsolete. It was so awesome and terrifying that no government on earth would
even think of using it against their fellow humans. Boy, was he ever wrong.
His invention attracted the interest of not only demolition experts,
and construction and excavation professionals, but military arms dealers,
who made Nobel one of the richest men in the world.
In 1888, there was a false report of Nobel’s death. Nobel had the
rare treat of reading his own obituary in the newspaper. He was stunned to
see himself described as the “man who grew rich finding ways to kill people
more quickly than ever before.” Was that how he was to be remembered? Was
that going to be all that he left behind when he parted this world?
Driven by this haunting legacy, Nobel wrote out a will designating
his fortune, valued in today’s market at more than $100 million, to be given
in annual cash awards to those who have done the most to benefit humanity in
medicine, physics, chemistry, literature, and peace. The Nobel Prizes are
known and honored throughout the world. With some quick soul-searching
Alfred Nobel was able to change his legacy from merchant of death to
benefactor of humanity.
A century later, the Houston Astros baseball team sold the naming
rights to their new stadium to a dynamic young company. They were pleased to
announce that for the next 30 years, they would be playing baseball under
the logo of a corporation that symbolized American energy, success, and
innovation. They were eager to tap into this superstar company’s growing
legacy.
Two years later, that company went bankrupt, with many of its top
executives indicted for corrupt practices. The Astros quickly scrambled to
get out from under the shadow of
Today’s Gospel reading is about legacy. It’s about the residue that
gets left behind as we part one from another. More specifically, it is about
the legacy of Jesus Christ. It is about what got left behind when Jesus
departed the earth.
The dialogue of chapter 14 of John takes place just before Holy Week.
Jesus is trying to get the disciples to understand that all good times in
this life come to an end. He is going to be leaving. They will no longer be
together.
It is heart-breaking news, of course. Any time we face prolonged or,
worse yet, permanent separation from a loved one, it hurts so badly that
it’s almost more than we can stand. I suppose that is the origin of the
Norwegian goodbye. We drag it out because, while we’re not very good at
sharing our feelings or expressing emotion, we don’t do well at saying
goodbye.
When we share a good close relationship, the last thing we want is
for that relationship to be interrupted, or ended. We mourn a separation
because that person adds so much to our life and we know that their absence
will diminish our lives.
That dynamic is going on in John 14. At the same time, Jesus assures
the disciples that this is not the end of the road. Life is going to be
different with him gone, but it’s not going to be an utter wasteland. It
would be a wasteland if, whenever we parted from someone we care for, that
person disappeared not only from sight but from memory, never to be heard
from or thought of again. It would be bleak landscape if we had to go on
with our lives as if this person never existed.
But that is not going to happen, according to Jesus. He says, “You
are not going to forget me. You are not going to live your lives as if I
never existed. Through the power of the spirit, you are going to hear from
me in many ways and many places.”
Jesus says he is leaving a legacy. He is leaving a piece of himself
behind.”
What is the legacy? What is the piece of himself that Jesus leaves
behind that we can carry with us to the end of our days?
Jesus says there are two parts to that legacy. There are two pieces
of himself that Jesus promises to leave behind, pieces that, through the
power of the Spirit, we will never lose, and in having those pieces, we will
never be apart from him.
First, “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love
them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” Jesus leaves a
residue of love. He tells the disciples, “Wherever you see love, true
selfless concern for others, you are seeing me. Whenever you practice love,
there will be a part of me so close to your heart that I can touch you.”
Second, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”
I know it’s a little confusing to be talking about peace p-e-a-c-e,
at the same time we are taking about piece ‘p-i-e-c-e’. But the meanings
really work together in an interesting way. Jesus says that Peace is a gift
from God. Peace is a part of God given to us so that we will always be near
God. Every time we experience it, every time we promote it, we find that God
comes to us and makes a home with us.
Peace and love are the legacies. They are what Jesus leaves behind of
himself. As long as they are not only a part of our lives but are central to
our lives, Jesus is here with us. And the best part is that these legacies
can be passed along from generation to generation without ever diminishing.
Whenever we focus our lives on love and on peace, we carry that piece of God
with us; we find that God comes to us and makes a home with us.
Mother’s Day is a day when we acknowledge the legacy each of us
carries from the ones who brought us into the world. There are parts of our
mom’s that we carry around with us, and all of us pass on that legacy to
others, whether biologically or otherwise. The legacy of peace and love,
handed down by Jesus, comes through mothers to us, and when that happens we
find that God is present with us.
Jesus promised to be present to us in the bread and wine of
communion. How is that possible, short of transubstantiation or alchemy?
Because in remembering Jesus’ incredible love for us that led to a death on
the cross, we experience again that legacy of love and peace. Every time we
experience it, every time we enter in to it, and take part in it, we find
that God is not so far off. We find that God comes to us and makes a home
with us.
The best way I can explain how Jesus leaves a piece of himself behind
for us in communion is with the story of Carl Lundquist. Carl was the
elderly neighbor who lived across the street from us in
Carl was in some ways an extra grandfather for our kids. He was a
very quiet, unassuming man, but he showed in little ways that he cared for
those kids whom he watched through all their growing years.
Our family loves rhubarb, but we could never grow it in
Shortly before we moved, Carl, who was well into his 90s, declined
badly and died. As we were leaving
Carl has been gone now for 3 years but a piece of him is still with
us. His rhubarb is absolutely flourishing. We cannot help but think of him
often when we eat it. And what exactly is the legacy that was passed on? It
wasn’t Carl’s legacy, although he was a part of it. It wasn’t that new
neighbor’s legacy, although she was a part of it. It was the legacy of
Jesus. The legacy that says whenever we experience love and peace, or take
part in passing it on, God comes to us and makes a home with us.
When we share the bread and wine and do it together as a group of
Jesus’ disciples, we experience the love of Jesus. God comes to us and makes
a home with us, and we are at peace.
A few years after Linda and I were married, we rented a cabin way up
in the Wisconsin north woods, at
One night we were invited for dessert by the sweet elderly couple who
were caretakers for the place. For some reason I cannot remember, I was
paging through an old photo album of theirs before we ate, and I saw a
grainy old black-and-white photograph of someone who looked familiar. He
looked like my grandfather.
I had never met that grandfather; he had died when my mother was an
adolescent. I had seen only a few pictures of him, but that looked a lot
like him.
When I showed them the photograph, the woman identified the man as
A.B. Anderson. “Huh,” I said. “That is my grandfather.”
The woman’s eyes grew huge, and she squealed. She said, “You’re A.B.
Anderson’s grandson? When that man preached, it was like angels coming down
from heaven.” And for the rest of the evening she repeated over and over, “I
can’t believe you’re A.B. Anderson’s grandson. I can’t believe you’re A.B.
Anderson’s grandson.”
Up to that point, all I knew of my grandfather was that he was a
successful pastor who preached much of his career from a wheelchair, and
died of pernicious anemia at an early age. Suddenly, the legacy came alive.
I found something that Grandpa had left behind.
The point is that legacies get passed down through places we don’t
realize, through means we may never be aware of. They are there, shaping us
and living with us without us ever realizing it.
Ever since then I have been aware that a piece of my grandfather,
whom I never heard preach and never even met, is with me. There are times
when I am really stumped over a Scripture reading and Sunday is approaching
and I still got nothing, and I think, “You know, genetically, you didn’t
leave me mechanical or handyman ability, not much social skill or
athleticism, and precious little in the way of common sense. You who could
make people see angels when you preached, could give me a little help here?
Did you leave enough of yourself behind to help me do this?” And sometimes I
think he has. Legacies get passed on to people we will never meet.
The Bible says you can’t take it with you. Whether we like it not, we
leave it all behind. I’ve probably talked too much about grandfathers on
mother’s day. Here’s a legacy from my mom. She was always quoting these
witty sayings that were both funny and insightful. One of her favorites was:
“Some people bring joy wherever they go; others bring joy whenever they go.”
We all leave behind something of ourselves, with people we know and
with people whom we will never meet. We can leave behind destruction and
scarred lives, we can leave behind a huge yawn of indifference. Jesus left
behind something better for us to share, to spread, to leave behind.
I heard an interview on
public radio this week with one of the Freedom Riders from the civil rights
era of the 1960s. These people were beaten badly, some of them crippled for
the rest of their lives. But this freedom rider said you cannot imagine the
peace that comes from having left behind the legacy of justice in God’s
name. The legacy of having made a difference in God’s world.
In a few minutes, we will share the peace. When we do so we are
sharing a piece of God that Jesus left with us. A piece of God that brings
God to us and makes home with us. A piece of God that we are invited to
share, until that glorious time when we all meet again.
A piece of the Lord be with you.