Of First Importance

In a time of grief and sorrow, it is hard to think of anything but the pain and loss that one feels at the death of a beloved mother, relative, and friend.

It was just two weeks ago that Kitty was at home and recovering from that tumble less than two months back.

And she went from home to hospital to Gatehouse in such quick succession.

It is hard to think about anything but the shock of this rapid chain of events.

We are not the first ones to face this problem.

Certainly there must have been many times when the apostle Paul could have said “Nobody hurts as much as I do today,” and with considerable justification.

There were the physical beatings and imprisonments, verbal assaults and slanders, shipwreck, and more.

Yet somehow, through it all, Paul was able to keep the focus in the right place, to remember what was the key, the center of his life.

He says, “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received, that Christ Jesus died for our sins...and was raised on the third day....”

There is the center of things; that is of first importance.

No matter where we are in grieving: whether one is in the numbness of shock, or is angry with God, or is attempting to bargain with God, we need to hear the same key sentence: Christ died, and was raised, for us.

In the shock and emptiness and loneliness of death, we need to hear again that Jesus was already there ahead of us.

In the confusion and wondering what is next, we need to know that Jesus has already been there, too.

“Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done,” Jesus says in the garden.

Jesus shows the way;

Jesus leads the way;

Jesus beckons us toward true life now, and for all time to come.

I have always felt that we are most godly when we are busily creative.

For me, that is in music and gardening and flower arranging, etc.

For Kitty, one of those things was her organizational skills with statistics.

Just a few weeks ago she showed me her latest chart for Cecil and the golf league, filled with the parings and handicaps and dates, in a meticulously even rows of figures.

What a wonderful gift she had in order to make life enjoyable for so many other persons.

...for others.

Jesus comes, Jesus died, Jesus is raised, for us.

There is the center of life

It is so hard to keep our focus there.

Our own cares and worries, illnesses and infirmities, and heartaches of all sorts get in the way.

These things obscure the joy of knowing Christ's gift to us.

Nevertheless, it is always available to us, ready for us to grasp and hold dear.

Week after week, year after year, Kitty was here about 10 pews back on the left side.

Week after week, year after year, she shared in the Word and the Holy Communion here, and she was joined thereby with the center of life.

Week after week, year after year, her very presence here was a witness to what she knew to be of first importance.

Because he was sure of this truth, the apostle Paul could encourage the Thessalonians that because Christ died for us and is raised to new life, whether we are awake or asleep, we are alive in him.

That does not take away the pain of Kitty's death, but it does help us to manage it and keep it in perspective.

And we hear Jesus' words in the gospel today:

“I thank you, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and learned and have revealed them to infants, ...to beginners in the faith....”

He invites us into a child-like faith.

Not childish, or immature;

but child-like, that is, ready to take the risk of trusting that what Jesus says is truth.

It is like a child who, when daddy calls and invites the child to jump to him, throws himself off a high place, absolutely sure that daddy will catch him, because he has invited him to jump.

It is that kind of trust which is established at Holy Baptism, when Jesus said to Kitty, ”You are mine, forever.”

There is a wonderful engraving that was done 400 years ago which shows Christ kneeling and pulling Adam and Eve (representing all of us) out of the grip of death.

The look on their faces is one of joyful confidence.

A story is told of Dr. Karl Barth, one of the giants of 20^th century theology.

He wrote a shelf full of very difficult books; careful thought...but no pictures.

It is way too difficult for me.

On one of his visits to the US, a person asked him, “Dr. Barth, you have written so extensively. Could you summarize what you see as the center of your work, what is of first importance?”

The great Dr. was silent for a moment and then replied, “Jesus loves me, this I know....”

There it is, Jesus right at the center of things, for Dr. Barth, for Kitty, for us, for the whole church of all times and places.

So this day is not only about loss and sadness, but also about trust and confidence

that Jesus has won the battle with death,

that Jesus is able to make and keep good promises,

that Jesus promises include Kitty and us,

that Jesus means it when he says, “Come to me, you that are weary and heavy-burdened, and I will give you rest.”

And so, knowing what is of first importance, we leave this day

with our sorrow tempered with the joy of the resurrection,

and our loneliness assuaged with the knowledge that our separation will not be forever.

Our confident prayer is:

“Thank you, Lord God our Father, for the gift of Kitty.

Hold her close to you, and us with her, now and forever.”

I passed to you what I had received as of first importance; Christ Jesus, ...for us. 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.