It's A Tough Week

Puritan Prayer, adapted. The prayer is adapted from The Valley of Vision
My Master God,
I am expected to preach today, but go weak and needy to my task;
Yet I long that people will be edified with divine truth,that an honest testimony will be given for you.
Give me assistance in preaching and prayer,with heart uplifted for grace and passion.
Present to my view things pertinent to my subject,with fullness of matter and clarity of thought,
proper expressions, fluency, fervency, a deep emotion to accompany the words I speak,and grace to apply them to people’s consciences.
Keep me conscious all the while of my defects,and let me not gloat in pride over my performance. Help me to offer a testimony for yourself and to leave sinners inexcusable in neglecting your mercy.
Give me freedom to open up the sorrows of your people, and to set before them comforting consolations.
Give your power to the truth preached, and awaken the attention of my slothful audience.
May your people be refreshed, melted, convicted, comforted, and help me to use the strongest arguments drawn from Christ’s incarnation and sufferings,that people might be made holy.
I myself need your support, comfort, strength, holiness, that I might be a pure channel of your grace,and be able to do something for you.
Give me then refreshment among your people, and help me not to treat excellent matter in a defective way,or bear a broken testimony to so worthy a redeemer, or be harsh in treating Christ’s death, its design and end, from lack of warmth and fervency.
And keep me in tune with you as I do this work.

I had kind of a tough week. As many of you know, my mother in southern Texas was diagnosed with cancer of the spine about 10 days ago. This is her 3rd bout with cancer in 46 years. I decided that I would go to be with her and her husband on Wednesday as she prepared for surgery. Late Monday night I learned that Joanne Ramey, a long time member, was very ill in St. Joe’s. I went to see her that night and the next afternoon she passed away from pneumonia. On Tuesday I was told that Margaret Carlson, a very active member at St. Luke’s-Allen Park, and a long time friend, was in Arbor Hospice with a rare form of cancer.
So Wednesday I went down to Texas to be with my mom and her wonderful husband Jack as she had surgery to remove the T4 vertebrae. We spent a lot of time at the hospital. The prognosis so far is good, and we are hopeful. It was tough coming home yesterday. A part of you wants to be there, and a part of you wants to be anywhere else but there. I felt terrible for leaving Jack there by himself- guilty, sad-I told him that I felt like I was abandoning him, just when he and my mom needed me the most. You know how this feels, many of you have been through it in your own lives. My mother has always been there for me, she has been my rock, and I wanted to be there as she went through this. Life is full of tough decisions and painful sacrifices.
All week I worked on today’s sermon, because more than anything I want things to get back to normal, for the routine to return. But every time I started to put something down on paper, it never seemed right. That happens a lot with my sermons, and especially on important Sundays like this one. Words always seem inadequate for the important moments in our lives. Sitting in the airport yesterday morning, going over the gospel, again, I started thinking, what do I need to hear in this story? It’s been a tough week, I thought, how does this story touch me? Where I’m at? In my life?
Sara Miles, the director of Ministry at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco writes: “Following Jesus on this path to new life means we have to stop pretending. The truth is that [bad things will happen to us]. That [you] we can't always prevent the pain of family or friends. That loved ones as well as strangers will betray us. And that we will hurt and fail others. “
We listen to a story that happened a long time ago and we say, “yeah, but that was him-and that was then-but what about me, and what about now?” The reason why we tell Jesus’ story every year, especially this long story of his last day and death, is because it’s supposed to teach us about life, and God, and death in a really non-religious way. It’s supposed to say to us-bad things happen, pain happens to those we love, those close to us may betray us, that we hurt and fail those we care for. And none of that is foreign to God. God knows, God understands, God has been there. That is what we are supposed to hear in this story. It’s not just Jesus’ story-we’re supposed to hear our own story in it, too. We watch all this stuff happen to Jesus, this terribly unfair, painful, discouraging stuff happen to him, and we think to ourselves-he understood. He knew how it is on our hardest days. He knew what it is like. He understands what life can be like.
We are always asking, why did Jesus have to die? Why did all this terrible stuff have to happen? Why do we tell this story? My mother, who has been through cancer and surgery before said, “I just want to wake up and for all this to be over.” And I told her, “yeah, me too.” All Lent we listened to long stories leading up to today, and they show us one thing-Jesus knew what was coming. He knew that love costs. He knew that there is a price to pay for loving people. And still he chose to come to Jerusalem.
We retell this story every year, even though it is hard, and sad and difficult to hear, because it is part of the story of love-an important part, a required part. For life to matter, we have to be willing to give up all we have, everything that we hold dear, for that which is most precious. This week, this story, teaches us again, that Jesus was willing to give up everything because he loved us so much. It is hard to end this story where it does, because we need to believe that God will win, that love will triumph, that this is not the end. We don’t want our story, our lives, and Jesus’ life to end here-at the cross, in the grave. We want our life, our offering to make a difference-we want his sacrifice to change the way life seems to end. We go through this challenging week immersing ourselves in Jesus’ story, because we believe that it will show us the way, and because we need to hear-every year, that the sacrifice of love is worth it. Today, this week, we hear what God was willing to give up-for us. This is hard, the story is difficult to listen to. That’s ok. Love costs, it’s good for us to hear the story and remember that. Before we get to Easter, we have to go through the cross.