|
A Remembrance Day
sermon
Sometimes we do or say
things without really thinking about why we did or said them and
then forget about them until one day, it could be weeks, months
or years later, there comes a knock at our door and we are
confronted by our wrongdoing or sin. That’s when we discover the
truism that we cannot run away from ourselves. Sure, we can run
away from situations and places and we might even be able to
slip them to the back of our minds where they remain hidden, or
almost hidden. But, no matter how hard, how fast or how far we
run, we can never quite get away from ourselves. The real
problem is when that sin or wrong doing becomes an obstacle to
our path, an obstruction to our lives, taking on the appearance
of a mountain or a prison. The Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11ff)
discovered that eventually and Luke uses a telling phrase that
describes the turning point in the boy’s life: “And he came to
himself.” (Lk 15:17) In other words, he had to be reconciled to
himself, to accept his shortcomings and the situation, to admit
his guilt before he was able to return to his father.
Today is about remembering, remembering the millions of men,
women and children who died in the great wars. Alas, it is also
two months to the day since that horrendous moment when
thousands of people were killed or maimed during the terrorist
attacks in the United States
Nevertheless, it cannot be sufficient only to remember the
sacrifice of those who gave their lives for what they believed
in; for their sacrifice to mean anything, it must lead to
change, personal and social change that will create a world as
close as possible to the Kingdom of God. It’s what we pray for
daily: “Thy kingdom come; thy will be done.” If nothing else,
the events of September 11, 2001 and what has happened
subsequently, show us that we are a long, long way away from
that and have learned nothing from history. We have yet to come
to ourselves.
But we have a hope, a sure hope, provided by Jesus Christ. Next
to him on the cross hung a murderer , a thief, who had even at
that last moment, come to himself, to his senses, and recognised
in Jesus what we find so hard to recognise and acknowledge in
what we witness around about us: his kingship. And all that he
asks of Jesus is to be remembered. “Jesus, remember me when you
come into your kingdom.” And our Lord’s reply was simple and
unequivocal: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” Not,
“when you become a better person I might consider it”; not “I’ll
only remember you when you decide to mend your ways”, but today.
In this communion today, we are called to obey our Lord: “Do
this in remembrance of me” because it is in doing this, in
sharing the body and blood of our Lord, that we are somehow
mystically crucified with Him and reborn in his resurrection to
new life. And so he can say to us this morning: “Today, you will
be with me in paradise.”
But there are still so many people who, despite what they hear,
despite receiving the promise of forgiveness, who will not let
go of their sin. “I’m not good enough – I’ve never been good
enough or worthy enough.” “I’m just a waste of space.” “God
couldn’t possibly forgive what I’ve done!” “I’m just a really
bad person.” “I’m beyond redemption, beyond anybody’s love.”
They say they want to let go of their sin, but somehow they
never manage it. They begin to hand it over to God but never
quite let go, so that there is one tremendous battle of wills, a
tug of war. And God, being God, allows us to win. But sometimes
our sin becomes a crutch leaving us to hobble about, bravely
bearing our affliction and revelling in the attention that our
wounds create, but never quite managing to move forward. My
friends, this kind of disingenuous nonsense can often turn into
a form of spiritual pride.
When we speak of obstacles, Jesus speaks of moving mountains;
when we speak of prisons, he speaks about breaking chains.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said this, but I’ll say it
again and again and again: That Jesus was sent not to demand
anything of us, but to give us that which we could not buy or
earn or merit by our own hand: forgiveness, redemption,
righteousness, eternal life.
If these are the things that you crave for then it is not enough
to remember your sin, you need to change your attitude first to
yourself, then to those around you and then to God. You need to
understand the love of God meditated through Christ and
accepting that grace, to come to yourselves and accept the
invitation: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.”
But there is another group of people who have not so much sinned
as have been sinned against, people who have carried the scars
of abuse – physical or emotional – for 20, 30, 40 years or more.
People who have suffered at the hands of mothers or fathers,
uncles or grandparents, siblings or ‘friends’, and who have
shouldered the blame and guilt for all that has happened to
them.
To you, Jesus proclaims you innocent, not guilty: you are free
to go, to get on with your lives. In the same way that Jesus
called Lazarus out of the grave, I call to you now, in the name
of Jesus Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit: “I unbind
you – receive your freedom. But I tell you also, that justice is
not to be found in vengeance, that freedom is only to be found
in forgiveness.
Throughout the Bible, the prophets have a single message from
God: “I will be your God and you will be my people. And your sin
I will remember no more.”
Alleluia! Praise the Lord!
11 November 2001 |
