The Servant Does....

It seems that there are places, all too many places, where grace of God cannot reach. They are just too miserable even for the grace of God to penetrate.

Pierre, are there saints?

“Maybe, but if so they are hothouse folk.

They can only exist in an artificially nurtured place, carefully tended.

They can't deal with real problems.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and the rivers, they will not overwhelm you.

and when you walk through fire

you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.

Pierre, what if I could tell you of a saint, a person more than the greenhouse person that you imagine?

Will you listen?

Let me tell you about Maximilian Kolbe, a priest who was caught up in the Nazi horror and imprisoned in Auschwitz.

A prisoner escaped somehow from the camp, and the officials decided on a brutal retaliation.

They chose 10 men at random from the camp, and prepared to lock them together in a cell and let them stave to death.

As one of the ten was being separated from his wife and children, Father Kolbe stepped forward and offered to take his place.

The guards roughly accepted his offer.

Father Kolbe not only saved that family; he also ministered to the other nine men as they were all dying together.

He spoke with them of hope in Christ, in spite of starvation and deathly anguish.

He shared death with them, and affected the jailers as well, who were so overwhelmed by his radiant spirit in the ordeal, that they were the ones to tell the world what happened in that place of horror.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, and your Savior.

Almost 30 years later, Father Kolbe was officially remembered by the church in Rome and recognized for his sacrifice and his ministry.

And in the front row in that service was Francis Gawoniczek, the man for whom Fr. Kolbe died.

Yes, Pierre, there can be grace even in the horrible places such as you have experienced.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.

You know why the pastor tries to use as much water as we can manage in baptism.

This is not a casual little splash; this is all the power of death trying to drown us!

Look at the icon of Christ's baptism before us this morning.

The water there is not a beautiful sparkling blue; it roils up black and foreboding,

and may even have a sea monster or two lurking in its depths.

This is not a casual little splash in the pool;

this is combat with death, and death wants to win!

So Christ faced death in his baptism, and came through those waters.

It is a sign of what will happen in his time on the cross.

Again he will have contended with death, and death will have thought that it has won.

But Christ is raised from the tomb of death to new life; death cannot hold him.

It is sign and promise for what happens in our baptisms as well.

We face death once here in the font, so that the next death will no longer terrorize us.

That is how Fr. Kolbe could step forward and volunteer to be thrown into the hunger bunker.

That is how he could speak of Christ to his fellow sufferers in gentleness and radiancy.

That is how his life and his death made such an impression even on his jailers.

That is how we face the time of crisis .

It may try a frontal assault through a diagnosis of cancer.

It may try the sideways approach through a job loss .

It may try to tackle us from behind with a broken personal relationship.

I am the Lord your God, your Savior.

And that Good News is not just to one individual; it is addressed to the whole people;

I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

When one of us is under assault, another of us can remember and speak the word of promise.

When death is at the door,

one of us can remember

that life in Christ will win the contest,

and remind the rest of us.

Years ago I visited a person who knew that a deadly disease was soon going to claim her.

She had some quite understandable feelings of “woe is me; no one has it as difficult as I do, etc.”

In the course of the conversation I reminded her that all of us are dying; every body is falling apart, some faster than others.

Of course I didn't stop there, but that is where she stopped listening.

I went on to proclaim the baptismal faith; that we have faced death once in the sacrament of Holy Baptism, and the second death cannot terrorize us now.

We have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from death by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

But the dear person did not hear any of that; she only heard me say that we are all dying, and so to anyone who would listen to her, she declared me to be an insensitive clod.

That was a lesson to me that even when we speak the truth, there is no guarantee that it will be heard, or heard fully and accurately.

But nevertheless, we are called to engage in this activity, to speak and to busy ourselves with what a servant of the risen Lord Jesus should say and do.

Do not fear, for I am with you.

During her retirement years, Ruth Podgewaite went to Hong Kong to serve as a term missionary.

She lived in a tall apartment building. From a neighboring apartment dweller she learned that a son had returned home after a divorce and had leapt from a window to his death in despair.

She wrote a note to the grieving mother, and went on with her duties.

Very shortly, there was a knock at the door and the mother stood there with an interpreter.

“What does your religion teach about death?” she asked Ruth.

A whole series of conversations ensued about the Christian faith.

One cannot tell in advance what may happen when a person offers the words and actions of a servant of Christ Jesus to a needy world.

The Lord transforms people, moves them from darkness to light, from death to life, from self-centeredness to loving words and actions.

Bring my sons and daughters from the ends of the earth, everyone who is called by my name.

I can almost predict that someone will be thinking at this point: “I'm no missionary; I'm not going to be traveling to the “ends of the earth”. All this just does not apply to me”

But it does.

Just this week I was speaking with a family who has a family member who geographically is right here in Williamsport but who emotionally is on what seems like an unreachably distant continent.

Will we be able to get through to this person during a lifetime? We don't know.

Perhaps Christ will be able to open a door where we only sense hopelessness.

Let's just say that Jesus has an even greater interest in the outcome than we do!

I formed and made...everyone.

For my glory, I created...everyone..

Phillip Nicolai [1556-1608] was pastor in Germany during tumultuous times.

In 1598-99, plague struck his town, and he had to lead hundreds of funerals in short time.

Nevertheless, he was able during this critical time to write two of the most enduring chorales, including the hymn we sing next.

He knows pain, anguish, and profound sorrow so very well, but still he writes:

Lord, when you look on us in love,

At once there falls on us from God above

a ray of purest pleasure.

You are our dear treasure.

Christ goes with us all the way,

Today, tomorrow, every day.

His love is never ending

Sing out! Ring out!

Tell the story!

Great is he, the King of glory.!

That is the servant's best song!

May we join in wholeheartedly!

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, and your Savior. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.