Easter 7C + A love stronger than death + 5.12.13
Melissa Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(Acts 16:16–34; Ps. 97;
Rev. 22:12–14, 16–17, 20–21; John 17:20–26)
(image from www.dailyoffice.org)
There was an image splashed around the internet this week,
one that both disturbed and moved. It
was an image of two of the garment workers in the building that collapsed in
Bangladesh a couple of weeks ago, an image of a man and a woman in
embrace. Perhaps they were trying to
protect each other. Perhaps they had
loved each other a long time, or maybe this was a moment of chivalry between
two otherwise distant coworkers. Her
body is arched back and his seems to arch over her, a half-rainbow of
protection, perhaps reaching out for human connection in a moment of terror. The look on the man’s face is striking—it is
covered in protective care. It is quietly
loving in the face of perhaps the most frightening moment of his life. This image is haunting because it reminds us
of the tragedy that happened there, and convicts me to make more conscious
choices because even buying a pair of pants has an impact. I begin to learn that, like it or not, living
in the wealthiest country on earth makes my choices more impact-full than those
of others in other places.
But the image also reminds me of love, that amazing emotion
that is stronger than death. These two
have now traveled beyond the veil, but the imprint of love stays on in the
embrace of their bodies.
Today, Mother’s Day, often brings up ideas of love, albeit of
the lighter variety than the aforementioned kind. But perhaps they are not so different. The job of a mother is to bring life into the
world, and/or to nurture a life that has been brought into the world. And not so long ago and still in many parts
of the world, childbearing can easily bring death to the mother and to the child,
and also not so long ago, and in many parts of the world, childhood is and was
not an easy period to survive. So in a mother’s love we can see a love that is
stronger than death.
Our relationships with our mothers may remind us of the
strong love received from a mother, or alternately times when love was not
received. Those of us who are mothers or
have wished to be have been able to love as a mother, or not, whether by choice
or circumstance, whether by emotional gift or whether we were prevented from
sharing love as we never learned to love ourselves.
Some in our church lift mother-love up very high as about the
closest thing to God’s love as we can get, and we have a Virgin of Guadalupe to
remind us of that. And that is
good. Honoring mother love is important.
But we know that even as we celebrate mothers, and even as we
celebrate the mother of Christ, our love for/from our mother and/or father is
only a shadow of the love that God has for us.
This is the true love that is stronger than death.
Henri Nouwen has a profound passage in his book the Return of the Prodigal Son about
reconciliation with his father, and how he got in touch with this love. He describes a moment when he was in an
accident and was very close to death, and he felt a strong call to mend his
relationship with his father. He asked
his father to come visit him from Holland and he says:
“For the first time in my life, I told my father explicitly
that I loved him and was grateful for his love for me. I said many things that I had never said
before and was surprised at how long it had taken me to say them. My father was somewhat surprised and even
puzzled by it all, but received my words with understanding and a smile. As I look back on this spiritual event, I see
it as a true return, the return from a false dependence on a human father who cannot
give me all I need to a true dependence on the divine Father who says: “You are
with me always, and all I have is yours.”[1] Accepting and being grateful for his father’s
love, even though he acepted his father’s shortcomings, his humanness, allowed
Nouwen to more fully love God and accept God’s love. This can be the same with our mothers. Sometimes our mothers have been amazing. But I will bet that, since they are human,
they have let you down at times. Some
have even done the most painful thing a mother can do; they have left you by
dying. Some mothers have been left by
their children. This seems the height of
injustice. But in loving our mothers for
who they are or were, or loving our own motherhood for all it was and wasn’t or
continues to be, we can find love and gratitude despite the pain. We can find a love that surpasses all the
large and small deaths in our world.
Julian of Norwich, whose day was this week, has “A Song of True
Motherhood” in which she says: “Our mothers bear us for pain and for death; our
true mother, Jesus, bears us for joy and endless life.”[2]
When we realize that our human parents can only bear us into
the love and pain of this world, but God bears us into new life, we just might
shift perspective. Perspective on our
mothers and others in our lives. We might
increase in gratitude for all our parent figures and we might realize that
where we as humans lack, God can still give love.
So what does the Gospel tell us God’s love is about? Right before his arrest, Jesus is praying for
those who will believe in the future, those to whom the disciples will bring
the good news. And he wants them to
share God’s love by being in unity. Jesus
is setting up the scene for all of us who will believe, and this prayer
stretches all the way out to us today.
But before it gets here, today, this prayer for future
believers is acted out in Acts . One commentator points out that we get to see
Jesus’ plea that all may be one as he and God are one in these passages.
He says: “In the healing of a slave girl and the salvation of
a jailer, we witness how God brings about healing, wholeness, and unity in two
particular loves, witnessing what it means to move toward becoming completely
one.”[3] We see this in the freedom of the slave girl
from being a tool for commerce rather than using her spiritual gifts for good. Her freedom allows for real unity, not just
bondage. We also see this in the freedom
of the jailer—he who is most free physically is least free inside, and Paul and
Silas see this and free him and his whole household. These moments of freedom lead to unity with
one another and restored relationship.
These are moments when the slave girl and the jailer alike experience
God’s real love that is stronger than death.
The jailer, saved from his expected death, the girl, saved from a living
death of being only a tool for others.
And we keep these moments of unity going today. Just next week, we will celebrate several baptisms
on Pentecost! We will bring others into
the community of faith, those who strive to be in unity with other Christians,
those who seek God’s healing in their lives as they learn more of what God’s
love is all about. This love that is
stronger than death.
But the way each generation keeps this love going is we continue to strive to share that love, in every possible way, every day.
But the way each generation keeps this love going is we continue to strive to share that love, in every possible way, every day.
So how do we do that?
No doubt you have your own way.
Breathe into God’s embrace and pray on it.
It might be by spreading the gospel and telling a friend who
may need to learn about God’s redeeming and embracing love about God and
Christian community.
It may be by doing what we can to prevent another thousand
mothers’ tears, as were shed in Bangladesh in the past couple of weeks. How can we strive for justice that allows for
true unity of all people, wherein no one is in a situation of bondage to labor,
but all are free to live and create without danger of perishing?
It might be by attempting to love others as Christ the true
mother does, by sharing the good news in an embrace or just a kindly look, or a
gentle ear that takes in other’s truth without judgment or shame. By letting them know that no matter what
death they have experienced in their lives, there is a love that is
stronger. There is a true embrace that
will not fail.
But whatever it is we are called to do to share this love, we hear a clear call to do it, to wash our robes in this love, in the Revelation reading today. As some of these very last words of scripture have told us and as we hear Jesus Christ’s resonant voice echo down the millennia, saying:
But whatever it is we are called to do to share this love, we hear a clear call to do it, to wash our robes in this love, in the Revelation reading today. As some of these very last words of scripture have told us and as we hear Jesus Christ’s resonant voice echo down the millennia, saying:
‘The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.”
And let everyone who hears say, “Come.”
And let everyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift (Rev.
22:17).’
Amen.
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