Sunday, May 26, 2013

A Place for You


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
May 26, 2013

A Place for You
Revelation 14:13

It is a lush place, verdant,
with towering trees, rolling lawns,
a meandering creek,
a large pond in the center.
It is a park, a lovely park,
270 acres of beauty,
the majesty of God’s creative hand
displayed in a rainbow of colors,
and in particular, green in a host of shades.

Back in 1849 City leaders showed remarkable foresight
when they realized that their growing city needed the space,
and so they went a few miles beyond what was then
the boundary of the city and bought land.
Land that would not be used for any business purpose,
that would never turn a profit,
yet land that was essential, absolutely essential,
to every person in the city,
the whole community.

Once they bought the land,
they gave the place a name:
Forest Lawn Cemetery.
Yes, a cemetery,
a place for the community to bury their dead.

Every community needs a cemetery.
We may not like to talk about it,
but death is part of life,
as natural as birth;
birth one bookend,
death the other.

A cemetery is a place where the dead
can be laid to rest,
a place of peace for all to rest from their labors,
for the mortal body to find eternal sleep.

Cemeteries should be lush, verdant, lovely,
places that display and reflect God’s glory.
They should be places of dignity,
sacred spaces,
hallowed ground.
        
This particular Forest Lawn Cemetery is in Buffalo,
and the words of its name describe it perfectly:
“Forest” and “Lawn”.
It is more park, more urban oasis than anything else.
Where it was originally set on land
that was outside the bounds of the city,
today it is very much in the center of things,
which, to me, is very appropriate.

Our cemeteries should be nearby,
part of the larger community,
as places of remembrance for those
who were part of the community.

It is Matthew’s gospel that gave us the term “potters field,”
that conjures up images of gnarled, rotted trees,
not even a hint of green,
no birds singing,
a dead place for the dead.
Functional? Yes.
Cost-efficient? Yes.
But horrible and wrong,
an affront to life,
an affront to the dead,
an affront to God.
                                                                                
Forest Lawn saw its first burial in 1850,
and it now has more than 155,000 “residents,”
to use the cemetery’s term.
Those residents include the famous, the infamous,
and the unknown.
They include the wealthy, the powerful,
the poor, the immigrant,
the lost, the lonely.
A president of our country, Millard Fillmore,
is buried there;
business leaders, artists,
teachers, laborers,
men by the hundreds who spent their entire lives
scooping grain from ships to elevators
along Buffalo’s waterfront.
There are people who lived to old age,
and, yes there are infants and children.

They are Buffalo,
from north to south,
east to west.
All are at rest,
all are at peace in a place that invites family and friends
to return to visit,
to return to remember.

Among the 155,000 residents of Forest Lawn
are 14 of my family:
10 on my mother’s side
and four on the Ferguson side.
My great-great grandfather on my mother’s side
bought a plot back in 1877 for his family.
He and his wife are there,
as are my great-grandparents,
my grandmother,
and most recently, my mother.
Over in the far corner of the plot lies Uncle Chester,
my mother’s great-uncle.
We know virtually nothing about him
other than he died in 1948.
No one knows why he was buried as far away
from the rest of the family as the plot would allow.
What he did to deserve eternal banishment
from the family
will likely remain known only to God.  

The Ferguson plot is in a newer section of the cemetery;
my grandfather bought the plot reluctantly back in the 1970s.
He was in his 70s at the time
and vibrant as can be,
still working, still playing golf.
He had no interest in thinking about his mortality,
but his children prevailed upon him to plan ahead,
and so he bought a large plot,
with space for up to 15,
and set up a gray granite stone that said simply,
FERGUSON.
Nothing fancy for this son of Iowa
who settled in Buffalo in the early 1920s.

He and my grandmother are there,
along with my father,
and a cousin who died of cancer ten years ago
at much too young an age.

Like most cemeteries,
Forest Lawn has a large area set aside for
service- men and women,
including those who died in combat.
Different sections reflect different wars,
the tragedy of war so powerfully in evidence
by the sheer number of different sections,
the sheer number of wars we have fought –
five in my own lifetime.

There will be ceremonies there tomorrow,
as there will be in almost every other
cemetery throughout the country
as we take time to honor those men and women
who gave their lives in service to our country.

The church I served before I came here
had a small cemetery,
as did the local Roman Catholic Church.
Each year the local VFW post would organize a
Memorial Day service at one of the cemeteries,
alternating between them: our cemetery one year,
the Roman Catholic cemetery the next year.
The ceremonies were always simple:
a few words spoken,
the priest or I leading in prayer,
taps played.
It was a time to honor the dead,
a time for the community to gather to remember,
a time to gather with a sense of gratitude,
the living with the dead,
all together on holy ground.

Cemeteries help us to remember our dead;
not just those who died in service,
but any and all loved ones who now rest in peace.
Cemeteries help us to know the truth of Paul’s words to us
that love never dies.
Death may take a loved one away,
but death cannot take away the love felt between
husband and wife,
parent and child,
sister and brother,
friend and friend.

Cemeteries help us to find peace,
comforting us with the reminder that
even as we stand at a plot
our eyes fixed on a name carved in stone,
he or she isn’t there –
they rest with God,
in that place we call heaven,
the place Jesus called “Paradise.”

Heaven is a place the Bible tells us almost nothing about,
maddeningly short with facts, details, information.
It isn’t at all surprising to me that we gobble up
every book that purports to draw back the curtain
even just a little bit.

But we should be cautious here:
if there is precious little in the Bible about heaven,
it is probably because God intended it to be that way,
to leave the place a mystery as we walk through this life,
so we stay focused on this life.

Better for us to trust in God,
to learn from Paul’s words,
 “What no eye has seen,
nor ear heard,
nor the human heart conceived,
what God has prepared for those who love him.”
(1 Corinthians 2:9)
Better for us to take the paradise that awaits us on faith.

What we do know,
and what we can rely on,
is the promise from our Lord Jesus Christ
that heaven awaits us all,
that there is a place for us,
a place for you, a place for me,
and that in time we will all find our way there,
that Christ himself will lead us there.

Cemeteries help us to remember this promise;
those places of beauty,
of sweet fragrance,
of tranquility,
of past and present,
of family,
of community,
of love.

But they also remind us that we live –
that we are full of life and breath here and now,
and we are called to live fully into our lives
as disciples of Christ.
In our sleep-deprived world,
the idea of rest sounds so terribly appealing,
but we have work to do, each of us,
to build the Kingdom
as long as we have breath and life.

Our lives here and now
are lives we are called to live with Christ,
in Christ,
through Christ,
losing our lives to the things of this world
so that we can find our true lives in Christ.
(Matthew 16:25)

The cemeteries where so many will spend time tomorrow,
bind this life         
with lives lived
and the life to come
grounded in our Lord’s promise to us,
Those who believe in me
even though they die, will live;
and everyone who lives and believes in me
will never die.”
(John 11:25-26)

What place will hold my mortal remains
is still an unanswered question.
Perhaps it will be Forest Lawn in Buffalo;
perhaps I’ll choose to keep Uncle Chester company.
Or perhaps my ashes will be scattered
in the Green Mountains of Vermont,
a place I’ve grown to love over the years.
Or perhaps my ashes will spiral slowly down
beneath ocean waves.

Wherever that place will be,
it will be a place of rest, eternal rest.
a sacred place,
a holy place

“And Jesus took his own hand …
and … smoothed the furrows from her face,
And the angels sang a little song,
And Jesus rocked her in his arms,
And kept a-saying: Take your rest,
Take your rest.
Weep not--weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.”

James Weldon Johnson’s words
reinforce the promise of life we have in Christ.
A promise that graces us with hope,
graces us with peace.
And allows us to remember with joy.
                 
AMEN

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Sign On the Dotted Line


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
May 19, 2013
Confirmation Sunday/Pentecost

Sign On the Dotted Line
Isaiah 59:21

We all know the scene from the movies or television:
the dapper man – and it always seems to be a man –
sharply dressed in a tailored suit,
silk tie, elegant shirt,
perhaps a pocket square in the suitcoat,

He speaks with a refined accent,
each word enunciated precisely.
He seems simply and suddenly to appear
next to a man or a woman who is frustrated,
wants something,
but doesn’t know how to get it,
or finds every way blocked.

The dapper man smiles as he speaks softly,
his every word wrapped with comfort and assurance:
“I can help you:
Just tell me what it is that you want,
Do you want to get to the top?
Win the prize?
Never grow old?
Be the champion?
Have riches beyond your wildest imagination?
There is no problem that my organization and I cannot fix,
no hurdle or barrier we cannot surmount.
Tell me what you want and then consider it done.”

“All we ask of you,
and it really is merely a formality,
is that you sign here,
on the very bottom of this short agreement,
right there,
by the x,
sign your name on the dotted line.”

A few months back we talked about
that wonderfully theatrical Super Bowl commercial,
the one with the actor Wilhelm Dafoe
sliding an agreement and a pen across the table
to a young man who was enthralled with a luxury car,
longing for it,
imaging himself in it,
wanting it more than he’d ever wanted anything else
in his life.
Dafoe’s smile was so sinister as he said:
“Just sign here and you’ll be behind the wheel.”

That’s not the approach Jesus takes with us, is it?
With Jesus, there’s no agreement,
no paperwork,
no signing on the dotted line.
“Follow me” is what Jesus says to us,
“Follow me.”
The words coming out of Jesus’ mouth
almost over his shoulder as he keeps walking,
a man in constant motion,
always moving forward.

But even as he moves along
he invites you, me,
all his disciples the same way:
“Follow me;
Join me;
It’s up to you;
Your choice;
You decide.”

We have all received that invitation,
and we have all responded yes.
We’ve all accepted the invitation to follow Christ.
And today we rejoice as Sophie, Ben and Sara
accept that same invitation.

We’ve all accepted the invitation and we all follow,
follow our Lord Jesus Christ;
but we follow in different ways,
ways as unique as we are,
each of us.

And we all find the road we walk
as we follow Jesus different,
as different as each of us is.
Sometimes it is smooth and easy;
at other times it is bumpy, difficult,
even frightening.

There are times as we follow
when we are focused firmly on Jesus,
mind, heart, eyes, and ears
focused on his teachings,
on how to respond more completely to his call
to a life of discipleship.

But there are for all of us
other times we follow, our feet moving forward,
but our hearts and minds, eyes and ears elsewhere,
on their own journey,
perhaps even looking for distraction,
for another path,
a path that’s easier,
more interesting,
more exciting,
less demanding.

Following Jesus isn’t easy –
but Jesus never said it would be.
Indeed, how many times does he remind us
that following him requires our losing our lives
to the things of this world
in order to find the life Jesus calls us to.

We need help as we follow our Lord;
Jesus knows it,
God knows it.

And we have that help.
Partly from one another,
from the fact that we are called to discipleship,
called to follow within community,
the body of Christ,
where we support and encourage one another,
where we can always find support and encouragement.

But we also have God’s help through the Holy Spirit:
the Third Person of the Triune God.
God has given us the Spirit within us to comfort us,
guide us,
energize us,
teach us and help us to grow in wisdom and faith
as disciples of Christ.

On that first Pentecost more than 2,000 years ago,
the Spirit burned away every last bit of worry,
every last bit of anxiety,
every last bit fear and uncertainty
that had gripped the disciples,
after Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion.

The Spirit’s consuming fire burned away
everything that had held them back,
and then filled the disciples with courage,
empowering them,
enabling them to go out into the world,
to evangelize,
to go and tell,
to share God’s love boldly,
with confidence,
anywhere, everywhere.

Our Brief Statement of Faith from our Book of Confessions
teaches us that the same Spirit gives us the same courage
given the first disciples –
courage to go and tell and do,
by taking the good news out into the world.

The Spirit empowers us to live fully into the covenant life
Christ calls us to as we follow him,
a life in which we are called to work for justice,
for righteousness and
for peace
with even more commitment than others work for
money, power,
prestige, celebrity,
comfort, possessions.
(Brief Statement of Faith, 10.4)

We don’t have to sign on the dotted line to receive the Spirit.
We’re given the Spirit,
a gift given us by the grace and love of God
As we heard through the prophet Isaiah:
“And as for me,
this is my covenant with them, says the Lord:
my spirit that is upon you,
and my words that I have put in your mouth,
shall not depart out of your mouth,
or out of the mouths of your children,
or out of the mouths of your children’s children, says the Lord,
 from now on and forever.”

We’re given the Spirit so we can respond
with confidence and conviction
to Jesus’ invitation to follow him,
to walk with him as his disciples,
to live the life he calls us to live,
a life that is a both joyous and hard work,
richly rewarding and yet very demanding.

Writing in his new book, Rob Bell reminds us that
“Jesus teaches us that
…all life is spiritual,
all space sacred,
all ground holy.
Jesus comes to heighten our senses and sharpen our eyes,
…helping us to become spiritual men and women
so we can see the sacred in the common,
the holy all around us.
Jesus teaches us to understand that
we’re these exotic mixtures of dust and
quarks and blood and soul,
filled with the Spirit,
the presence of God as close as our next breath.”
(What We Talk About)

You, me,
all of us, each of us:
we are disciples of Christ,
men and women who have said yes to Jesus’ call,
Jesus’ invitation to follow him.

We are each of us, all of us filled with the Spirit.
Enabled,
empowered,
to lives the apostle Paul calls us live:
a … life Jesus will be proud of:
bountiful in fruits from the soul,
 making Jesus Christ attractive to all,
getting all involved in the glory and praise of God.
Philippians 1:9-11 (The Message)

Sophie, Ben and Sara join us today,
as followers of Christ,
all of us together,
the body of Christ.
All of us graced with the love of God,
the Spirit of God,
given us through Christ.
And none of us had to sign on the dotted line.

AMEN