A
sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
November 20, 2005 / 27th Sunday
of Pentecost
My
text this morning is this: "the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed
be the name of the Lord."
The
first time I heard this text was when I was young. I heard it mostly at funerals,
and I hated it. The Lord has given: okay. But the Lord has taken away, blessed
be God? How could I believe that? As a young person death was still the major
insurmountable tragedy. Why would I bless God for taking away? This text was a
scandal. I determined early on never to use it.
I
must admit that I didn't feel all that much better about the text when I read
this first chapter of Job that it came from. The center of the book of Job is
some of the most profound poetry ever written. I recommend that you read this
book if you haven't. But the poetry is fit into a prologue - part of which I just
read to you - and an epilogue, that read like a folk tale. Many scholars believe
that this prose beginning and ending were not written by the poet of the central
part of the book. And look at what the story says! God allows Satan to do whatever
he wants to Job. Then what happens to Job sounds like a narrative from some children's
book, or a cartoon-movie like "Chicken Little!" "Your oxen were
taken, and the servants killed and I only am left. Your sheep were consumed by
fire and the servants killed, and I only am left. An army took your camels and
the servants were killed and I only am left. A hurricane knocked down the house
where your children were eating, and they were all killed, and I only am left."
It sounds like a melodramatic cartoon. So then from such a story to say "the
Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord,"
where can we possibly gain respect for such a text?
When
the Lord has taken away, is there any cause for Thanksgiving?
In
one of my editorials for The People's Time, a month or so ago I wrote that
this has been the worst year in my memory. Really. It began with the tsunami.
Then we have had the hurricanes, particularly Katrina. But we have also seen Rita,
and south Florida, and terrible storms in Mexico and central America where there
have been massive mud slides and many deaths. Then there has been the horrid earthquakes
in Pakistan and India. So many killed. So many homeless. There are bound to be
many in Pakistan this winter who will freeze.
We
have reached what has been called compassion overload, charity fatigue. The regular
funds put aside by relief agencies, and the many special dollars they have received
can not even begin to make the differences needed. Normally generous people feel
stretched to the limit.
And
that is not all. Are you aware that the current famine in parts of Africa is among
the worst of recent memory? And then there is the War. Dead soldiers are brought
back to Rhode Island in boxes. And the number of American dead pales against the
American wounded, or the far greater numbers of wounded and killed Iraqis: many
of whom are innocent women and children.
And
then there is corruption, people making money on death, the slashing of services
to the poor, food pantries run dry, abuse in prisons, cheating in corporations.
Have you ever seen anything like it?
This
year, is there cause for Thanksgiving?
Can
anyone say, "the Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away, blessed be
the name of the Lord?"
Let
me give you another text. This one is from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Jesus said,
"blessed are those that mourn, for they shall be comforted."
Yesterday
I mentioned that both Ralph Barlow and Paula Durrant told me a story that when
Nancy Russell was in High School she set out to learn Greek. She even decided
to do a new translation of the Beatitudes which she read at the youth group. She
changed "Blessed," to "Count Happy." In so doing she beat
the translators of the Jerusalem Bible to the punch. Later they picked up her
translation. "Count happy those who mourn, they shall be comforted."
I have always
asked my confirmation classes to study the Sermon on the Mount. Here, right at
its start, they would get stuck. "Count happy those who mourn." Teenagers
wanted to know, how can someone who is mourning be happy? Here's what we discovered.
Those who mourn, mourn because they have loved; mourn because they know they have
lost something; mourn because they have seen good. So the reason we were able
to mourn for Nancy, our beloved Secretary yesterday, was because we cared for
her, because we appreciated her, indeed because we loved her. Those who loved
joined in the mourning. "Count happy those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
So take with
you now that learning and come with me to the Gulf Coast, to Biloxi, and New Orleans.
Count happy those who mourn.
Oh
it is a tragedy. It is a tragedy we will never forget. I think of the people who
decided not to strengthen the levees to give tax breaks to the rich. I think of
the people in two nursing homes who were not evacuated. I think of school buses
sitting in flooded parking lots unused, while no evacuation plan for the elderly
was in place. I think of the fact that those in hotels will be thrown out on December
1. It is a tragedy. It is an ongoing tragedy. In the years ahead we will all have
to live by compassion.
But
can I "count happy those who mourn?" "Do you know what it means
to miss New Orleans?" I have never been to New Orleans. Before I came here
I corresponded with a Church there about becoming their pastor. My life surely
would have been different had I felt a call there. But I never went, not even
for an interview.
But
I still love New Orleans. What about the Cajun food? And I love the music. I like
Harry Connick Jr., and what about Louie Armstrong? There is a special joy in singing
"When the Saints Come Marching In." And the stories, the characters,
Mardi Gras, the culture: "A Streetcar Named Desire." Congregationalists
went south and started Dillard University in New Orleans. And because of that
work and that place Brown University today has Ruth Simmons as its President.
Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans? Blessed are those who mourn, for
they shall be comforted.
We
can not let this City die. I encourage you to a greater compassion in the year
ahead than you have ever known.
But
even if New Orleans could not be rebuilt, we have all been blessed by it, given
joy by it, lifted up by it. That the Lord has given us New Orleans, blessed be
the name of the Lord. And even if it were taken away, by the very fact that we
had it, we knew it, we experienced it, blessed be the name of the Lord. Count
yourself happy that you have experienced life.
This
sermon is really about how to prepare for a funeral. In the future some of us
will experience tragic deaths. We will be filled with remorse, and often some
real anger. Let it be. But through it all I hope you can celebrate life. If a
young child dies it is a tragedy. The parents will wail and moan. But may we know
what a blessing we have had - even if only for two short years, or ten years,
whatever. Life is a blessing. Every moment is a blessing. Life is a gift. Every
minute of it is a gift.
And
somehow I can then still say thanks.
This
Thanksgiving I am in mourning. But I am also thankful, thankful for all the people
that have been part of this earth, thankful for the courage of those who are still
struggling, full of desire to help and aid them.
And
now, finally, I can say, "the Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away;
Blessed be the name of the Lord."
Amen.