I was all set to send a quick note saying that I won’t be writing a Bible Study this week because I was not preaching this weekend. Aldersgate’s Director of Music and Assistant Pastor Chuck Scott is preaching this Sunday and I’m looking forward to it. He’s already shared some of his ideas and I know it will be a great sermon. As usual, I worry about losing my job after the congregation hears someone else, but it was certainly time. He will be filling in for me when I am out of town a couple of times over the next couple of months, so we thought it would be good if he were to preach while I’m here this time.
Anyway, I was enjoying a rare Saturday off, well sort of off, I did go to the men’s group this morning and enjoyed their company, and I’m also planning for the Confirmation class that will meet tomorrow night. But compared to preparing to preach, it was a Saturday off. Then the phone rang. On the other end was a woman asking me to go visit her ex husband who was dying of cancer in one of our rehab facilities. “We used to be good members of Aldersgate,” she told, but after the divorce they just drifted away. They didn’t have a church and wondered if, for old times sake, I would go and visit him. I said sure and got myself ready and went.
When I got to his room, the ex-wife was sitting there and was so grateful that I came. But then she excused herself and left me to talk. After some considerable time getting him adjusted in his bed to a little more comfortable position, we talked. He is obviously not long for this world. He had lost over sixty pounds in the past month or so, was basically a skin covered skeleton. But we talked about the past couple of years, about how his ex wife was “a god-send” and helped him out because he had no one else. We talked about how food didn’t taste good, about how basketball didn’t interest him anymore, about how the doctors decided he couldn’t take any more chemo and it wasn’t doing any good anyway. We talked about the on again off again spring and whether he would manage to see the real thing come when it did.
He thanked me for coming in that way that indicates it’s time to go. So, I asked if we could pray together. He said that would be great. So, I held the bones of his hand, the one not covered in bandages from where various IVs had torn his flesh to ribbons, and I prayed. I prayed, as I usually do in these situations a prayer of thanksgiving. Which seems odd, I know. But I thanked God for care givers of various sorts, professional and otherwise, for a place to rest when that was possible and a to find a lessening of pain when it wasn’t. I thanked God for life that is always in those divine hands, even when we forget. And I prayed for a chance to return home, when the time was right, our true home, our eternal home, where our bones won’t hurt and the loneliness won’t overwhelm us.
See, here’s the thing, I would have come to visit and to give what small comfort I could have without the lever of being former members of the church I serve. It’s what I do, and have done more times than I can count. But my heart was breaking because here was one who had been a part but was allowed to slip away and now when he needed it most they felt like they had to beg. I went out to talk to the ex wife who was so grateful I came there were tears in her eyes. And she hesitantly asked, after a time whether we could be willing to hold the funeral when the time came. Of course, I replied, but didn’t say, it’s what we do. Then she said we were good members, very active for a long time, involved in lots of things. But after the divorce it didn’t feel like home any more. It didn’t feel like there was a place for me, when it was just me. I don’t know if you understand that.
There are lots of reasons why people leave the church. Some, like her, don’t feel at home anymore. Others don’t feel they need it, or they got angry at someone, or disappointed. Their needs weren’t being met, that is a common explanation. It didn’t feel like home.
The men’s group this morning, studying Red Letter Christians: What if Jesus really meant what he said, a dialogue between Tony Campolo and Shane Claiborne, talked about the nature of family. The authors point out that Jesus is kind of hard on the idea of family. “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” You remember that bit? There’s more, but I won’t trot it all out here. I just found it ironic that in the early morning group of faithful men we could discuss family and cross the boundaries between the family with whom we share a name and the family with whom we share a faith quite easily. See the value in both, allow both to define us and shape us. And even talk about how we grow the family, how we invite and include. And then this afternoon I met a couple who couldn’t make the shared name family work and because of that they lost their grip on their faith family too.
I wonder if there are those who have left their name family because they weren’t meeting their needs? Probably, stranger things have happened because of it. And I remember running away from home for most of a day because someone hurt my feelings or disappointed me. And I know that families come apart for all sorts of reasons. But maybe we’ve got the wrong end of this for both families. Maybe it isn’t really about how I can get my needs met in either family, but rather about how I can pour out love on the other. Maybe it is about what I can give. And give. And give. Not counting, not measuring, not expecting a return on my investment. Maybe how I live in my family - either and both - is training for how I will live in eternity. By pouring myself out. By loving with my whole being. By giving anything and everything I have for those I love. Not to be paid back, but to be given the change to surrender myself to something beyond myself. And that something is bound up in the faces and bodies and, yes, needs of those I am learning to love.
Maybe those who leave the church because their needs aren’t being met are really right, in the end. But the need they aren’t getting met is the need to give, to love, to surrender. No one taught them how to do that. No one showed them the joy of that. No one was ready to receive that from them. Maybe we should practice loving one another a little bit more. Then everyone would know there is a place for them. Then everyone would be at home no matter what their personal circumstance. Because home is the place where we can love unconditionally.
So get ready Aldersgate. Sometime soon, I believe, we’ll welcome someone home. Someone who used to be home among us, but now is going home before us. And we’ll celebrate a life some may remember, but that God remembers into eternity. And we’ll continue to dream of being who we are called to be.
Psalm 126:1-6 When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. 2 Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then it was said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them." 3 The LORD has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.
4 Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like the watercourses in the Negeb. 5 May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy. 6 Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.
Keep sowing the seeds of dreams. Keep loving the family you find yourself in. Keep opening the door and finding room.
Shalom,
Derek
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