revival 2009 Sermon

“The Beginning and the End”
A sermon delivered on the occasion of the Communion Service at the Unitarian Universalist Christian Fellowship
Revival, Tulsa, Oklahoma, March 26-29, 2009
Preached by Rev. Lillie Mae Henley, Universalist National Memorial Church, Washington, D.C.

Reading I
Matthew 26:17-19

17 On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?"
18 He replied, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.' " 19 So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover.
[Today’s New International Version from website www.Biblegateway.com]

Reading II
Matthew 26:20-30
26 While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take and eat; this is my body."
27 Then he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you. 28 This is my blood of the [b] covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. 29 I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."
30 When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
[Today’s New International Version from website www.Biblegateway.com]

The Sermon

“The Beginning and the End”

Prayer For A New Mother by Dorothy Parker

The things she knew, let her forget again—
The voices in the sky, the fear, the cold,
The gaping shepherds, and the queer old men
Piling their clumsy gifts of foreign gold.

Let her have laughter with her little one;
Teach her the endless, tuneless songs to sing,
Grant her her right to whisper to her son
The foolish names one dare not call a king.

Keep from her dreams the rumble of a crowd,
The smell of rough-cut wood, the trail of red,
The thick and chilly whiteness of the shroud
That wraps the strange new body of the dead.

Ah, let her go, kind Lord, where mothers go
And boast his pretty words and ways, and plan
The proud and happy years that they shall know
Together, when her son is grown a man.

I said, “Yes.” I said, “Yes!” all those years ago, when the dream became real and Gabriel said to me I was to be the mother of the son of God. Little did I know then, what joy there would be in the knowing of Yeshua. Little did I know then, what pain there would be in the knowing of it all.

There will be many stories of him after we are all gone. I do not know what they will say, all I can tell you now, is my story and of the love he brought into our lives—of the change he brought into our lives.

My mother, as her mother had, and all the women of our family from generations before, taught us the scroll and the law at home. We are responsible for the education of the boys until they are old enough to go to the rabbi and for the girls until they are married. I taught my children, Yeshua, my first born, and all his brothers and sisters. Often, my sisters and I gathered in my bayit, my house, and taught our children together. That is why they were so close to each other as they grew, and, I think, why many of his brothers, sisters, and cousins became followers.

He was my first, a miracle to me. It was a miracle that we both did not die; the conditions were horrible, and if it wasn’t for Joseph’s determination to see us live through it all, I think we would have died. He made sure there was boiling water and swaddling and a midwife from a cousin’s family.

Yeshua was strong, but he cried a lot the first months of his life. Because I am the youngest sister, my sisters, already mothers, told me to be patient. Just as I was losing hope he would ever quit crying, he grew into walking, and began to laugh a lot. He laughed at the older children’s antics and he laughed at all the new babies crawling and crying around our families’ homes.

Yeshua was fascinated by the scripture and was happy when he grew old enough to go with his cousins to the rabbi’s bayit for study. I taught him the prophets. I especially loved their message of warning, their message of hope, and their message of relationship with Yahweh. Yeshua listened more intently than most of the other boys. He was eager to go with our families to Jerusalem to the Temple for Passover. He often begged to go with his father or his uncles when they went to Jerusalem to perform their duties as one of the priests who accepted offerings, but of course he could not go.

Anytime someone came to our small Nazareth from Sepphoris, he listened intently to the stories they brought. When the merchants told stories of faraway places, Yeshua had a faraway look in his eyes. He was fascinated by the Roman soldiers who rode through Nazareth ever so often, and would not stop asking questions about them.

It did not take him long to associate the soldiers with the stories he learned from the great prophets in our scrolls. At an early age, he knew the soldiers meant domination and oppression. Yet, he, among all the children seemed to believe most in the promises he found in Isaiah’s words.

… do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you… [Isaiah 41:10a Today’s New International Version]

It was, I believe, because Yahweh was more real to him than any of us. We were who we were, because Yahweh called us as a people to be His people. We were bound together, all of us, and Yahweh was part of our family.

8 “But as for you, Israel my servant,
      Jacob my chosen one,
      descended from Abraham my friend,
9 I have called you back from the ends of the earth,
      saying, ‘You are my servant.’
   For I have chosen you
      and will not throw you away.
10 Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
      Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
   I will strengthen you and help you.
      I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. [Isaiah 41:8-10]

Yeshua had more faith in our faith than the rest of us. I am not saying that because he was my son; I say that because it was true.

When we took him to celebrate Passover in Jerusalem when he was twelve, he was so involved in discussions with some of the priests, that we left him there under their care for a few days. We could see that he wanted that more than anything in the world. When we went back for him, he was almost sick from staying awake for three days talking, listening, and studying. When I asked him what he was doing, he said something about doing the “work” of his father. I was relieved when we returned to Nazareth; I was afraid he would ask to stay in Jerusalem.

I think about the early years through the lens of what happened to him. Beside the man who gave his life for what he believed, I see the infant, my baby Yeshua crying, then laughing. I see the young man he became. He had more compassion than his siblings and his cousins. If the old people needed a visit, he would go. If the disturbed wandered through, he would approach them and soothe their troubled minds. If they were playing in the fields and someone was hurt, it was always Yeshua who brought them in. If there was a group of traveling lepers on the edges of Nazareth, and Yeshua saw them, he would run to all my sisters’ houses and beg for food for them and put it in their path. If someone had an illness, it was Yeshua who led the prayers.

Then, one day, he said he had more to learn than he could learn in Nazareth. He gathered up his carpenter’s tools and only a cloak and left. I now know that he traveled to those faraway places that the traveling merchants talked about. He was gone for many years, but he came home ever so often, and when he did, he talked about us loving each other as much as we loved God. This is heresy; but we did not say anything to him, we were so happy he was home.

When he came home the last time from his travels, he said he did not want to be a carpenter any more. He wanted to share his stories. To do anything in Nazareth, or anywhere really, one needed a patron. This was not something that Yeshua wanted to do. He said that this was part of the problem with our people. They were too entrenched in the system of the Roman Empire and there were other ways to live.

Yeshua told me Yahweh was calling him to share a new way of being with our people. I know the anguish he went through as only a mother could know.

Before he went to see his cousin John in the wilderness, he told me goodbye.

His first act of public ministry was the baptism. I heard about the dove descending. That is when I knew. I knew what Gabriel told me was true. A messiah would be my child.

And then he went into the wilderness. Just as we send the unblemished sheep into the desert alone, so too, Yeshua went alone. I can only imagine.

Others tell the story of his temptations—if they are true, then I also know what sustained him then and throughout his “ministry of stories.” It was the words of Isaiah, the word I taught him.
 10 So do not fear, for I am with you;
       do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
       I will strengthen you and help you;
       I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
 11 “All who rage against you
       will surely be ashamed and disgraced;
       those who oppose you
       will be as nothing and perish.
 12 Though you search for your enemies,
       you will not find them.
       Those who wage war against you
       will be as nothing at all.
 13 For I am the LORD, your God,
       who takes hold of your right hand
       and says to you, Do not fear;
       I will help you.
[Isaiah 41:10-13]
After his miracle at the wedding, we all knew, that is all of his family knew. It was then, one by one, his brothers left to follow him. And others, too, men and women, we heard, so his sisters said we should all be there, and after awhile we were. Once, for our safety, he had to deny we were his family, that was all right, we were more afraid for him than we were for ourselves.

You can imagine how difficult it was to live those two—no three years—in the desert, traveling from village to village. We thought everything would be all right, once Yeshua decided to go to Jerusalem. It was a triumphant entry, I must say. Not one of us had ever been happier for Yeshua.

If we had only gone to Jerusalem at any other time, things might have been different. It was Passover, and thousands of our people were there, many who had not even heard of Yeshua’s message or ministry. And the soldiers, of course, they were always there at festivals.

Yeshua acted and sounded strange at the Passover meal. He washed the feet of his followers, and said, “… as I have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” [John Chapter 13]

Yeshua always reminded us that we were all the same and Yahweh was as real as our love for each other.

And then the last thing he did at supper, before he went off to Gethsemane to pray was lift up the bread. He blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to all of us, and said, “Take, eat, this is my body.”

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

We did not know this would be our last supper together. We did not know what was to come. We did know Yeshua taught us a way to live that would forever change us.

The world will always challenge us when we try to live as Yahweh would have us live. My son knew that. I see the infant in the man who died for what he believed. Whatever will come of his story and the memory others have of him is up to Yahweh.

I said, “Yes.” I said, “Yes!” all those years ago, when the dream became real and Gabriel said to me I was to be the mother of the son of God. Little did I know then, what joy there would be in the knowing of Yeshua. Little did I know then, what pain there would be in the knowing of it all.

Amen and Blessed Be