Gratefully Dead - Sermons

  Ash Wednesday Sunset - magnificently blue, then finally red
This is the first of three postings on March 1  This one is from the end of the day; two postings "down" is the one from the morning.  That morning post explains we are still in NC, not in Cambridge for a doctor's appointment.  The posting below this one has some of autobiographical musings about the meaning of Ash Wednesday for me.

The post you are reading has links to the sermons I promised Daniel I would put here soon after his birthday (Feb 10).  Ash Wednesday is an appropriate time for these since they are all about my understanding of death and my experience of living with leukemia, one of those diseases that doctors now call “dire” rather than “terminal.”

I gave this first sermon, called “Get Behind Me Satan,” at All Saints’, Palo Alto on September 14, 2003. On September 14, 2002, I had been in the hospital for about a month and was heading into a VERY near death experience. After two rounds of highly toxic chemo therapy intended to knock out my marrow function, I’d been given a drug to combat what the doctors thought was a fungal infection. The drug also knocked out my kidney function, and before blood tests indicated my condition, my lungs and heart were flooded. I was taken to intensive care where I would remain for more than two weeks. In September 2002 I had almost died, yet by September 2003 I was miraculously alive.

At All Saints’ the custom is for a parishioner to preach the sermon that kicks off the stewardship (aka fund-raising) season. I had wanted to thank the congregation for all kinds of support I’d gotten while I was sick; it seemed like a good time for me to do the “stewardship sermon.”

In developing a sermon using Mark 8:33 and surrounding verses, I confronted how little I knew of the Bible. My internet research suggested that St. Peter might have been the oral source for much of what we consider the words of “Mark.” But how could I know what sources were credible? The previous spring I had my first inspiration to go to EDS. My questions and my passions in developing this sermon confirmed for me that I really was drawn to seminary life, and especially to a seminary with a Mark scholar.

Doing the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises had drawn me close to Jesus in ways that I had never anticipated. In this sermon, I sought to offer my understanding of Jesus, death, and life and to show how Jesus’ death and acceptance of the knowledge of our inevitable deaths open for us the possibility of abundant life.

Here is the sermon: Download get_behind_me_satan_sermon_09_14_03.doc

I gave the second sermon, called “You Fool,” at All Saints on August 1, 2004. This was the day Daniel and I were saying good-bye to our congregation as we moved to seminary in Boston. The custom at All Saints’ is to ask departing members how they would like to be involved in service. When I read the lessons for the day, I knew I wanted to preach. August 1 was the birthday of my sister, whose death had brought me to become a member of All Saints’ six years before (some of that story is in “About Me.”).  The sense that God was calling me to preach that day was palpable.

Members of the congregation had been asking me about my experiences with the Ignatius Spiritual Exercises. My purpose in this sermon was to outline the prayer practices I had developed in the course of doing the exercises. These are practices that have made me a different person. Reading them again today, two years after writing about them, has brought me new conviction my practices this Lent.

The expression, "You Fool!" is from the story in Luke 12 in which the rich man builds large barns, stores his stuff, and thinks he can "relax, eat, drink, and be merry" because of his worldly possessions. God has other plans for him.  The sermon is about "detaching from worldly goods."  After miraculously surviving leukemia two years before, I gave this sermon with a bit of bravado about my capacity to be detached from my worldly stuff.  At the time I was preparing this sermon we were packing to move to Cambridge.  I was getting rid of everything that wasn't special to us.  Three weeks after giving this sermon, the truck carrying everyTHING that was special to us turned over and, though the driver was not harmed, all that special stuff was lost in a fire. I feel the strong hand of God moving me in the improbable events that shape my life.  My comfort was this sermon.

Here is the linke to the sermon:   Download you_fool_sermon_08_01_04.doc

I gave the third and final sermon at a Healing Service, which we have every Friday at noon at EDS. I had wanted to do a sermon on my illness, my understanding of death, and my belief in the transformative nature of being a “dying person” since coming to EDS. I hadn’t found the occasion. I’d even been counseled that such topics were better in retreat settings and not in regular services where people might not be equipped to handle the highly personal nature of the topic. My experience with two “death” sermons at All Saints’ suggested to me that death was not a taboo sermon topic, though I had to admit that the All Saints’ congregation was special because it had “gone with me” through the illness. Now the EDS congregation was about to walk with me through illness; the timing seemed right.

One of my personal goals at EDS was preach at a Friday healing service, and to do so when Bishop Charleston was presiding, yet I did not mention this goal to Amity who schedules student preachers. Again, I could feel the strong hand of God in a highly improbable situation:  a few days after being diagnosed with a relapse of leukemia, I found I had already been scheduled to preach at a healing service and that Bishop Charleston was presiding. It came as no surprise to me that the Bible readings for this "improbable" event were well suited to my topic, which was not death per se, but the compassion that comes from knowledge of death.

In my curriculum conference the week before I’d been talking about my vision of appreciating life more by realizing that we all are “gratefully dead.” My colleagues were unanimous in advising me that people would not understand what I was talking about if I used such language. The sermon, therefore, became a challenge for me: could I speak effectively enough to make the expression “gratefully dead” meaningful to listeners? Could I make the “dancing skeletons” become an easily understood icon symbolizing a spiritually rich and consciously-lived life? I am happy to report that the sermon had exactly that effect, and that those who heard it continue to talk with me about “dancing skeletons.”

Here is the sermon:   Download gratefully_dead_sermon_11_05_05.doc

I hope this idea of living “gratefully dead” will enrich your understanding of anticipating death thereby appreciating life.  For Christians, Lent and Ash Wednesday in particular is the time when we turn our attention to this idea.  In the BLOG posting that follows, I write autobiographically about the meaning of Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.

Final note: Not ALL of my sermons are about death and dying. I have one that I like a lot that speaks to “Bright Sunday,” the Sunday following Easter when God shows her cosmic humor in breaking her own natural laws and enabling a resurrection.  Bright Sunday is a traditional time of joke telling in sermons.  The ancient church calendar day has become the “Hallmark Holiday” called April Fools Day.  You’ll have to wait until April 23^rd to find my Bright Sunday sermon here.