Sermon Preached By Rev. Richard E. Stetler - March 10, 2002

Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14

            This spirit is what Paul was describing when he wrote, ". . . it is this spirit that brings a rich harvest of every kind of goodness, righteousness and truth."  It is contagious and spreads to others.  And sometimes we do not need to speak for our spirit to be understood.  A loving spirit does not need a lot of words to communicate.  It shows. 

When Lois and I were flying back and forth to Arizona a couple of weeks ago, American West was charging $5.00 for its headsets.  We never pay for this service and yet sometimes those in-flight movies capture our attention.  We find ourselves watching them.  What we have discovered is that we do not have to hear the sound track to know the mood of the actors and what is happening in the story. 

             If we spoke to members of the deaf community about this ability, no doubt they would inform us that there is very little about life that they miss because they cannot hear.  They are able to understand nuances of spirit that most of us cannot.  They have sensitivities many of us do not have. 

            Each of us has a spirit that communicates loud and clear even though we may not make a sound.  How do we become the kind of people that Paul described?  

            Many of us are carrying emotional baggage.  We know of teenagers who feel unloved, under appreciated and misunderstood.  We have spouses who never developed quality communication skills.  We have retirees who begin to worry about health issues.  We have people who fear no one would like them if others knew "who they really are." The Apostle Paul guides us through every venue of our experience with the same invitation. 

            Paul told his readers to bring these feelings and thought patterns out into the light.  In other words, own them.  Declare them as yours.  Stop imagining the worst-case scenario of what might happen when we do this.  Share this emotional baggage with others.  Bring it all out into the light so that its true nature can be seen for what it is.  Paul added these words, ". . . for anything that is clearly revealed becomes light.  That is why it is said, 'Wake up, sleeper, rise from death and Christ will shine on you.'"  What do these words mean? 

            When I was a little boy, I remember very vividly an incident that cured me forever of my fear of darkness and the fears associated with being alone.  One night I was home by myself. I had been sick and my parents would not allow me to attend an event that involved the rest of the family.  I decided that I wanted to be rid of such fears even if I died during the process. This event seems so petty now, but at the time what I did became a life and death moment of truth for me. 

            After turning out all the lights, my game plan was to walk through the house that was now in total darkness.  I planned to begin my journey from my upstairs bedroom and walk to the basement, touch the back of the toilet and then find my way back to my room. I remember being extremely apprehensive as I started; fully believing that something unknown lurking in the darkness was going to get me.  I prepared myself for death.  

            As I made my way down the stairs, all the creaking sounds in the house were amplified.  My heart was pounding.  My breathing became irregular.   I was doing fine until I arrived at the bottom of the basement stairs.  As I walked toward the bathroom, something slimy slapped me in the face.  Instinctively I brought my arm up and knocked whatever it was out of the way.  I froze as my mind created all kinds of images of what that was. I waited for what seemed an eternity, immobilized by fear.  After regaining my composure, I ventured forward to complete my task. 

            I made this trip three times that night and was cured.  Of course, my curiosity got the best of me.  I had to discover what had struck me in the face.  I turned on the basement light to investigate.  The fierce, human-devouring creature I had imagined, turned out to be a wet spaghetti string mop my mother had hung over the basement clothesline to dry.   When I brought the focus of my fear into the light, it lost its power. The Apostle Paul indicated this was possible for all the baggage we carry. 

            This teaching must have been in circulation in the early Church because Paul wrote, "That is why it is said, 'Wake up, sleeper, and rise from death, and Christ will shine on you.'"  The quote Paul used is most interesting.  He must have heard it repeatedly among the early followers of Jesus. 

            The secret to our success in this area of life is to step forward and place what distresses us into the light.  When our growth stops, quite often we are the ones who have done that.  No one else has such power over us. What is so intriguing is that generally it is our beliefs that cause this condition.  Drag such beliefs into the light and examine them.  

            Take the aging process as a prime example.  We look at these older bodies of ours and say, "I cannot contribute anymore," or, "I've paid my dues.  Now it is someone else's turn."  The reason people grow old has more to do with this belief than the age of their bodies.  A truth that many of us find difficult to understand is that our spirits never age.   

            Galileo was still publishing his writings at the age of 74.  Michelangelo was 71 when he was appointed as the Supervising architect of St. Peter's church.  Grandma Moses did not start painting until she was 76.  Susan B. Anthony was head of the Suffragettes at the age of 80.  George Bernard Shaw fractured his leg at 96.  He fell out of a tree he was pruning.  Duke Ellington was passed over by the Pulitzer Prize Advisory Committee at the age of 66.  When he heard what they had done he said, "God does not want me to become too famous too early." 

            When we are too tired to contribute anymore -- then say that.  But do not assign inactivity to age.  This is a myth. It simply is not true.  When we stop growing fruit, Jesus mentioned that trees are cut down and thrown into the fire.   This was not a threat.  His words described what happens to us when we decide to stop living.  We do this to ourselves.  We cannot blame age or anything else. 

            Baggage wears us down. Our inner world is always on display. It is our silent communicator.  If we are honest with ourselves, every one of us wants a rich harvest of all the good things of life.  This is not for ourselves; it is for the world that we sing.  Can we have this experience if we are less than authentic in how we present ourselves?  Can we radiate Christ's spirit in us if we have baggage we feel compelled to hide?  Of course the answer is, "No."  Our spirit communicates everything whether we like it or not.  We cannot hide who we are even though many of us believe we can.      

            Jesus never judged anyone for their mistakes.  He loved sinners.  He ate with sinners.  The people who gave him indigestion on a regular basis were the righteous. When it came to people who were stumbling in the darkness, Jesus made every effort to encourage them, he applauded their abilities and in essence said, "Sail on, sail on!  Grow, multiply, spread your wings. Grow up! Take my words to the ends of the earth.  Teach others how to love one another."  

            It is not who others are that matters. It does not matter what others think about us.  What matters is who we have become.  When we live like children of the light, our arms are open, and our affirming spirits allow others to stand in our circle of friendship.    

            Paul said, "So you must live like people who belong to the light, for it is this spirit that brings a rich harvest of every kind of goodness, righteousness and truth." Never forget that our loving spirit becomes the vehicle that makes everything else possible.  When we are at peace with who we are, we enable others to be at peace as well.  This is what Jesus sent us into the world to do.   

THE CONGREGATIONAL PRAYER

We thank you, O God, for your mercy and love.  Each week we feel strained by the limitations of our faith.  We have flashes of brilliance alongside moments that humble us.  Little things often bother us.  People disappoint us.  We find it a challenge to choose the high road from among all the available paths.  We often allow discouragement to overcome the joy of how blessed we are.  How often we think of ourselves as self-sufficient when we are not.  Nurture us with the splendor of springtime, the laughter and innocence of children and the fellowship of friends who unfailingly support us.  May we learn to be at peace with others and ourselves.  Amen.

THE PASTORAL PRAYER

There are so many times, O God, when our lives are touched deeply by what happens to us.  We sense the renewal of life as nature emerges from its dormancy.  We have recognized that the cold winds and the frosty mornings are slowly surrendering to the changing of the seasons.

Likewise, we are reminded how our lives are forever changing and that so often our Good Fridays give birth to Easter mornings.  How grateful we are for hindsight which reinforces a wonderful perspective, one that affirms us for holding on when the storms raged, one that strengthens us for maintaining trust in you, and one that teaches us the great truth that all things, both good and evil, will in time pass from us.

We pray this morning that our lives will be touched in a healing way because we have come together to celebrate our faith.  As we evaluate the quality of our lives and sense the distance we have yet to grow, teach us to be gentle with ourselves.  Teach us that those who search must be patient as well as open.  Teach us that harmony with you can be achieved when we learn the uselessness of struggle and the beauty of stillness.  Direct us today to carry your love into the world and give it away.  We pray these thoughts through the spirit of Jesus as we now listen to the singing of his beautiful prayer . . .