SERMONS
AND REFLECTIONS
“On
Living and Dying ..."
Barbara
Brown Zikmund
January 26, 1998
Scripture:
Romans 14:1-19
One
of the parts of the job description of a Seminary president is going
to events--receptions, retirement parties, awards banquets and
funerals. I meet people at times of celebration and honor, and at
times of sadness and loss. I read the obituaries to see if those who
have died have a historic relationship to Hartford Seminary. I visit
people in retirement settings who have been deeply involved and
committed to this institution for decades. All this reminds me that
what we do at Hartford Seminary--builds upon the work and money and
commitments of people who were here long before I came.
I
know that our endowment is not just an account managed by some
financial agency, it is not just stocks and bonds which earn interest
and keep the budget balanced. Our endowment is a concrete treasure
given to us by people with faces and histories, people of faith,
people who cared about his place and who lived incredible lives. Our
endowment is a legacy created by people who lived out their faith many
years ago and invited us to continue the work in their memory. They
believed in what we were doing long ago--and they invested in our
future--which is now our present.
Several
weeks ago I attended the funeral of one of the daughters of Rockwell
Harmon Potter. Ruth sent many of us a message last week about a taped
speech that Potter gave to the Civitan Club years ago. It will be
their program in April. Potter was an important figure in Hartford for
almost fifty years. He was a Congregational pastor at Center Church in
downtown Hartford during the first 25 years of this century. In 1928
he resigned that position and became the academic dean and professor
of preaching at Hartford Seminary, just a few years after the Seminary
had moved to its new gothic campus in the West End. That campus, which
this institution occupied until the 1970's, is now the School of Law
of the University of Connecticut directly across the street.
Potter’s
daughter, Amelia Johnson, was a preacher’s kid. She grew up in the
church and was involved with church institutions and organizations all
of her life--at one time she served on the Woman’s Board of Hartford
Seminary. She started Avery Heights for retirement living, and ended
up living there herself. She was 96 years old when she died. Although
she did not leave Hartford Seminary lots of money for our endowment,
her life, along with many others, calls us to be faithful to our
calling.
At
Amelia Johnson’s funeral I met her granddaughter--a young woman now
working in Seattle. She had loved her grandmother as an old and frail
woman. But at the funeral she heard the testimonies of people who had
known her grandmother when she was younger and stronger, and a
significant community leader--and this young woman was inspired. She
told me that the service was overwhelming--that it had changed her
whole feeling about her grandmother and that coming back to Hartford
for the service was challenging her to think differently about life
and death, about older people like her grandmother and about herself.
A
few weeks later I attended the funeral of John Way, a community leader
who had no formal relationship to Hartford Seminary, but whom I had
worked with on the Mechanics Bank board. The service was packed with
the civic leaders of Hartford. John’s children gave moving testimony
to their dad, both his life and his dignity in dying. He was an
inspiration.
Going
to funerals is not something most of us enjoy. They can be somber and
depressing gatherings. Yet, they are profound experiences. As I
reflect about my life and my work I’ve decided that I need to go to
funerals from time to time, because they help me keep my work and my
life in perspective. It is so-o-o easy to get wrapped up in pressing
agendas and tasks--and lose sight of the big picture. Funerals have a
way of calling us to think big. There is a time to be born and there
is a time to die. That rhythm is cosmic. At funerals and memorial
services we are confronted with the basics of living and dying--not
just the living and dying of the deceased person--but our own living
and dying.. Funerals place all that we do in our lives in a cosmic
context. For people of faith, they invite us to examine our lives in
relationship to God.
The
apostle Paul wrote many letters to new Christian communities, helping
them clarify what they believed about Jesus and God--but he also
called the early Christians to see life and death in new ways. In the
letter to the Romans Paul reminds us that everything must be measured
by our relationship to God. That is all that matters. Paul knows that
in Rome there are petty arguments among the Christians about how they
relate to the culture around them. Some of the new converts are very
zealous about their faith. They insist on maintaining Jewish dietary
laws. They condemn those who eat the wrong things. They fast with a
self-righteous attitude. They make judgments against other Christians
who do not fast, or who eat foods purchased in pagan markets or meats
slaughtered in pagan rituals.
Faced
with these factions Paul challenges the Roman Christians NOT to be too
hasty to judge the practices of other Christians and not to quarrel
over variations of opinions. He writes:
Those
who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must
not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed them....
Some
judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days
to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own minds. Those who
observe the day, observe it in honor of the Lord. Also those who eat,
eat in honor of the Lord, since they give thanks to God; while those
who abstain, abstain in honor of the Lord and give thanks to God.
We
do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we
live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord, so
then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.
[Romans 14:3,5-8 NRSV]
When someone dies
and we attend a funeral or memorial service, the truth of these words
is very clear. We are here on this earth for a season. We can control
some of what happens, but in much of life we are invited to recognize
our limits and our finitude. We do not live to ourselves, and we do
not die to ourselves. If we live, we live by God’s grace and if we
die, we die under God’s care. Whether we live or whether we die, we
must recognize who we are--human creatures dependent upon God--the
merciful one..
At funerals and
memorial services we are invited to give thanks for the life of
someone who has died, but we are also given space to grieve OUR loss.
Whether someone lives or someone dies is often extremely important to
family and loved ones. Whether someone lives or someone dies may be
remembered by a community or forgotten in the crush of contemporary
busyness. In the violence of our urban and international conflicts
life sometimes seems cheap--airplanes crash, earthquakes destroy,
terrorists strike, people die. We see and hear so much of death, that
at times it does not seem to matter whether anyone lives or dies. We
are becoming numb to the value of each before God.
Furthermore, dying
in this society is often accidental and untimely. With such tragic
deaths there is no time to say goodbye. Someone is there at one
moment, alive and full of life, and then we learn the horrible news
that there has been an accident and they are gone. In many cases with
the heroic efforts of modern medicine there is no opportunity or
permission to say goodbye. In many cases with the denial of graceful
aging there is no opportunity or willingness to say goodbye.
At John Way’s
memorial service which I attended about ten days ago I was struck by
the way in which the family celebrated the life of their deceased
father. Even more than their pride and affirmation of his life,
however, each person who spoke felt moved to thank God and their Dad
for dying gracefully. John knew that he was dying and in the last
months of his struggle with cancer he had shared deeply with his
family and had given them the chance to share his journey and to say
goodbye. It was a wonderful gift. Their lives had been changed by his
life; but even more, their lives had been changed by his dying. Over
and over they affirmed their faith that we do not live to ourselves,
and we do not die to ourselves. We are eternally God’s.
Our Muslim friends
are nearing the end of the month of Ramadan this week. Last week we
heard moving testimonies from Muslims about the spiritual meaning of
Ramadan and the ways in which dying to food and other selfishness
during Ramadan, enriches life and gives it fuller meaning. In reading
Paul’s letter to the Romans I found myself thinking about his words.
"Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who
abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed
them. Who are you to pass judgment ..." God is welcoming those
who eat and those who do not eat. Who are we to pass judgment? Paul
reminds us, not only that whether we live or whether we die we are
God’s, Paul reminds us that each of us is finally accountable to God
to live in peace with our neighbor. We all stand before divine
judgment. We are asked not to pass judgment on one another, "but
to resolve instead never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the
way of another." [Romans 14:13 NRSV]
In Christian
history we know that Paul was writing to infighting Christian groups
who were judging each other and quarreling about "right
practice’ within the church. He was very clear that our role is not
to judge, but to be sensitive to the needs of others, saying "If
your brother or sister is being injured by what you eat, you are no
longer walking in love." "For the kingdom of God is not food
and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy
Spirit." He challenges all of us to get beyond our differences
and to "do what is acceptable to God and has human
approval." Paul invites all of us to pursue "what makes for
peace and for mutual upbuilding." [Romans 14:15, 17, 19 NRSV]
Several weeks ago
PARADE magazine in the Sunday paper had a special cover story about
Bishop Tutu of South Africa. Bishop Tutu is black and for many years
he worked diligently against the injustice of apartheid. For his
efforts he received the Nobel Peace prize. In the new South Africa
Tutu is chairing the Truth and Reconciliation Commission--a commission
which seeks to help people who were deeply involved in the injustices
of apartheid to come forward and confess to racial crimes, and be
granted amnesty. When asked why this was important and how he could
justify forgiving the perpetrators of such an unjust system under
which his people suffered for decades, Tutu spoke about what he called
"restorative justice." This kind of justice is different
than "retributive justice"--because it is not focused upon
vengeance--or getting even. Vengeance only leads to revenge. Tutu
says:
To pursue the
path of healing for our nation, we need to remember what we have
endured. But we must not simply pass on the violence of that
experience through the pursuit of punishment. We seek to do justice
to the suffering without perpetuating the hatred aroused. We think
of this as "restorative justice."
Tutu insists that
any human community that has experienced great evil and death needs to
restore memory and name evil--recognizing that awful things happened
and the people who experienced them were not crazy. Acknowledgment is
crucial if healing is to take place, because denial does not allow
people to claim new life. In fact, simply saying that something is
over and moving on without coming to grips with the past is actually
dangerous. Only forgiveness, which for Tutu echoes the mercy of God
who forgives us over and over and over, can build a new life beyond
the horror of the past.
I know that there
are many periods of Christian history where Protestants and Catholics
have not heeded the words of Paul. I know that there are many periods
of world history where Christians and Jews, and Christians and Muslims
have not honored their common relationship to God. Here at Hartford
Seminary we seek to remember what is important. When people ask me why
does Hartford Seminary have its special program in the Study of Islam
and Christian-Muslim Relations?, I am nourished by Paul’s letter to
the Romans. We have this program because we are an educational
institution seeking to serve God.
If God is at the
center of our lives, none of us live to ourselves and none of us die
to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die
to the Lord. Paul challenges people of faith not to cast judgment on
each other, for ultimately we all stand before the judgment of God
"As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every
tongue shall give praise to God. So then," Paul insists,
"each of us will be accountable to God." [Romans 14:11-12
NRSV]
This past week we
may not have gone to a funeral service for Martin Luther King, Jr.,
but many of us found ourselves in situations where we recalled the
life and death of this remarkable man who called for an end to racial
violence through non-violence. Who dreamed a dream where all children
in this country, all peoples in this world might live together in
peace. When we celebrate the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. we
also remember his death. We lament the bigotry and senseless racial
violence that continues to undermine human community. As we lift up
the life and death of this great man, we are also reminded that none
of US live to ourselves and none of us die to ourselves. If we live,
we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. Paul
challenges people of different ethnic, religious, and racial
communities not to cast judgment on each other, for ultimately no one
can judge except God. We are together, we all stand before the
judgment of God. Each of us is accountable to God. So we are invited,
as Paul puts it, to "pursue what makes for peace and for mutual
upbuilding." [Romans 14:19 NRSV]
Amen.
