Other sermons   

            The Irish poet William Butler Yeats wrote this:

                                    My fiftieth year had come and gone,
                                    I sat, a solitary man,
                                    In a crowded London shop,
                                    An open book and empty cup
                                    On the marble table-top.

                                    While on the shop and street I gazed
                                    My body of a sudden blazed;
                                    And twenty minutes more or less
                                    It seemed, so great my happiness,
                                    That I was blessed and could bless.

            The biblical understanding of blessing is that God blesses us: with life in abundance, with grace and forgiveness, with joy in the deepest sense. But we also bless God  - “Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless God’s holy name!” God blesses us. We bless God. And, just as importantly, we bless one another, especially at times of parting, at times of leave-taking. And that is what this worship service this morning is about - our blessing of one another. What caused Yeats’ body to blaze with happiness? In another poem he mentions this capacity to bless and be blessed. Here he looks back over his long life, one of promise, pain, struggle, unrequited love, triumphs, betrayals, humiliations, healing and reconciliation. Here he says:

                                    So great a sweetness flows into the breast
                                    We must laugh and we must sing,
                                    We are blest by every thing,
                                    Every thing we look upon is blest.

It is in the casting out of remorse that our lives come ablaze with happiness, and we receive the capacity to be blessed and to bless. As people of faith we would simply affirm the joy of salvation, that it is God’s grace that allows us to cast out all remorse, and rest in gratitude.

            The story of Jacob’s wrestling with the river demon, possibly an angel or even God, is a favorite of mine. Jacob is one of those bad boys of the Bible – a nasty trickster and mama’s boy who brutally deceived his father to steal an inheritance from his first-born brother, Esau. Now many years later they are about to meet again. Jacob has no way of knowing whether it will be a joyous reunion or a bloody battle of revenge. In crossing the Jabbock River he now enters Esau’s territory. In the dark waters, alone in the dead of night, he encounters a mysterious being. Jacob and this creature wrestle through the night. Jacob’s adversary knocks his thigh out of joint. As day breaks, the stranger begs to be freed. But Jacob still clings to him and demands a blessing. Asking his name, the creature bestows the blessing. But when Jacob asks the stranger for his name, he won’t give it.

            I love this story, especially for what it says about blessings by God and by one another. Blessings aren’t always dainty pats on the back, gentle hugs, all sweetness and light. We wrest blessings from one another and from God by wrestling. These can be intense engagements involving conflict, contained and sustained struggles of the will.

            Over this last year, I have received some wonderful affirmations from you for my twenty-three years at Christ Congregational Church. You have roasted me and you have toasted me. And in all this, you have blessed me. And, I have done my best to express the deep appreciation I feel for you, the people of CCC. I want you to have my blessing of you, which I will seek to do in the next few minutes. But the blessings for which I am most grateful are those that grew out of our struggles together. We have truly wrestled together with the ultimate goal of discerning and doing God’s will for this church. “Process,” this word we love so much around here, is another word for “wrestle.” Polite wrestling, but wrestling none the less. It has been intense and heartfelt. I am so grateful that we have not passed one another like ships in the night. Often we have sailed side by side on the same course. But as often as not, we’ve bumped into each other. We have left marks and dents on each others’ hulls. Wrestled like Jacob and God. And it is through that wrestling that the blessings have come.

            Now as I depart, I will to extend three final blessing to you, the people of CCC. These three blessings grow out of the last three sermons I preached on love – three aspects of love: call, compassion, and contemplation. My blessing to you is that you nurture those three C’s of love here at CCC. I will say a brief word about each, and then place three symbols on the altar. Since they are gifts, you may do with them whatever you wish. I will simply leave them.

            First, Love as Call. The symbol is the wild goose. This is the Celtic symbol of the Holy Spirit. There are many symbols for the Holy Spirit; for example, the dove – sweet, gentle, and pure. But I like the wild goose – because it is loud, aggressive, even intrusive. It flies with clear intent and direction. It can be startling and annoying at times. But its call can be uncanny and compelling.

            Second, Love as Compassion. This is a bottle of water from the actual Silver Spring down town; there is one, you know. It was presented to me when I resigned as president of Silver Spring Community Vision. Its authenticity is attested to by none other than Blair Lee, local commentator and political insider. I give you this as a blessing to urge you to continue the work of healing and reconciliation in the world - and to remember that while compassion is personal, compassion encompasses social justice. One-on-one love takes place in community, and builds community. It is through compassion that we refuse to believe that there is a wall between the gospel and on-the-ground issues like immigration, green turf, and free speech.

            Finally, love as Contemplation. This is a Tibetan singing bowl. It is a symbol of contemplative love, evoking the religious traditions of both East and West. The Tibetans make it sing. In the West we tend to strike it. But the purpose of its sound is to summon us to mindfulness, into an awareness of God as the ground and manifestation of being, consciousness, and love. And, in its unique way, it bestows blessing. It is a reminder that in a state of mindfull awareness and compassion,

Now receive these gifts from me, as my blessing to you and your ministry in Christ’s
name. May you love God ever more dearly; see God ever more clearly; and follow God ever more nearly – day by day by day. AMEN.

Return to CCC Home Page