THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS LIKE... A sermon preached by the Rev. Aaron Billard St. John s United Church, Moncton, NB Nov. 6, 2011 After the Second World War, my grandfather Doc MacLennan never again attended church. He would drop his family off at the door each Sunday morning, and keep driving. When he was seventeen, he enlisted, and as did his older brother Clenny, who joined the Merchant Marine. Being in the Merchant Marine was one of the fastest ways a man could die during the Second World War, next to being a weapons operator in the rear of bombers in the Air Force. The next fastest way to die was to be a member of the Infantry, of which my grandfather was a part. One afternoon, after a particularly bloody battle in Holland, Doc was shot. The man, who had recently married his beloved, lay on the battlefield as the guns around him were firing rapidly, and the mortar shells landed in every direction. This man, whose nineteen-year-old wife was waiting for him in Canada, was now feigning death. As he lay near death on the ground, he had to pretend to be dead because the Nazi s were shooting the wounded. Because of his leg wound, he had to fashion a tourniquet from his own belt, though he passed out from shock and blood loss. This eventually saved his life, but also cost him his leg. That kind of story is not unique. We have names, etched in bronze that hang at the front of this church, of people who served in wars, who either made the ultimate sacrifice or who were wounded physically, emotionally, and spiritually in ways we can t imagine. 1
Jesus opens his story about the closed door, with the words, The kingdom of heaven is like... In many ways, in the clay and rain-soaked fields, or devastated beaches where people found themselves during those years, the kingdom of heaven must have seemed to be the exact opposite of what was happening. In times when I have sat with the dying, I always ask the question, What do you think happens when we die? I never presume to know exactly, but I suspect those who are closer to death have more insight into it, than those who are still well within the realm of the living. It s fitting today, on this Remembrance Sunday that we read the parable of the closed door. It s a story when time has finally run out and there s nothing more you can do, and in fact, it s too late. The door is closed. Matthew s Gospel often speaks about the coming of Christ. It s about being prepared for the inevitabilities in life. Jesus shares this story about a wedding to remind us where we get our strength and where to find faith - which is interesting, because the last place I usually look for Jesus is at a wedding. I mean, for the most part, wedding couples are fantastic to work with, but sadly I have become cynical in the face of limousines and expensive, rented clothing, to the point that I often wonder if the spectacle outweighs the prayer. During one wedding this summer, a bride snapped at me during the signing because the solo had not started yet. But that s what happens at weddings. Emotions run high, and we do tend to lose a bit of perspective in our search for a fairytale, rather than a reality. Yet, Jesus uses the story of a wedding to talk about the coming of the kingdom of God. The Kingdom of heaven will be like this, says Jesus. We all know what it s like to be out of oil, just like the bridesmaids in the wedding story that Jesus is telling. We ve run out of gas before. Our children play themselves out until they 2
fall to sleep, eventually. If you haven t spent time with your spouse in meaningful conversation, but spend more time wondering about lunches than you do about relationships, then you re running out of oil. If we don t eat the right kind of food, our body shuts us down in one way or another, eventually. Here's the thing: you will run out. Time will run out. The hour gets late, and everyone gets sleepy. We all doze; we all put off doing the things we have dreamed of doing, but never start, and for whatever reason we remain unfulfilled rather than fulfilled by something we pursue, because there may not be a lot of time. I think that's one of the hardest things about this parable. The time will come when you have to draw on the oil you have, right there, on your body, in your flask. All of us in this church have found ourselves in the overwhelming situation that we suddenly need every resource, every prayer, and every person we can grab onto, to hold us from sinking. We need all of the oil in our spiritual lamp. We need all of the oil in our spiritual lamp, and it isn't going to come from your pension savings, and it isn't going to come from your good intentions or your long-range plans; it's going to come from what fuels your faith right now. It's going to come from where you see God, today. And where do you see God today? It s a lot closer than you think. I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was naked, and you clothed me. I was a stranger, and you welcomed me. I was in prison, and you visited me. I was sick, and you comforted me. That's where we find Christ. That's where we get filled up. It s hard to know it and believe it when it s happening, but God is with us through the realities of this life, even when we are so blinded with tears or pulsing with pain that we can t fathom how 3
or why this is happening. Scripture would say that it is precisely then that God draws nearer. In fact, it means trusting that God is working within us and through us to bring us to a new day. It s about the right-now and the not-yet. What that means to me is that whatever it is that s causing you fear right now, God s love will continue to appear in your life. The love of God will continue to appear in our lives in surprising and unexpected ways. - Jesus Christ comes when people live in hope and never give up. - Jesus Christ comes when faithful people work for justice for all people - Jesus Christ comes when critically ill people know that they are being held by God - Heaven breaks into earth when you and I live in hope and give ourselves to building the kingdom of God around us, in what we do, what we say, how we act, and how it is we help. I think Christ comes in those moments when we are so in awe of the world, despite what may be happening, that we know that God is with us. (J. Buchanan) Like many of you, I read, and was amazed by, the eulogy written for Steve Jobs, by his sister Mona Simpson, in the New York Times. She wrote of Steve s dying, and I ve edited this down. (I encourage you to go to their website and read the full article.) Then, after awhile, it was clear that he would no longer wake to us. His breathing changed. It became severe, deliberate, and purposeful. I could feel him counting his steps again, pushing farther than before. This is what I learned: he was working at this, too. Death didn t happen to Steve, he achieved it. 4
He told me, when he was saying goodbye and telling me he was sorry, so sorry we wouldn t be able to be old together as we d always planned, that he was going to a better place. Dr. Fischer gave him a 50/50 chance of making it through the night. But with that will, that work ethic, and that strength, there was also sweet Steve s capacity for wonderment, the artist s belief in the ideal, the still, more beautiful later. Steve s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times. Before embarking, he d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them. Steve s final words were, OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW. There are people who use this parable to scare the hell out of you, and the Jesus into you. We don t do any of this ministry for the reward, we do it because it has been asked of us, and it s the faithful response to God to be present in the world around us, so that when we see the world around us, as God intends it to be, we too say, Oh wow! Faith ceases to be faith when someone threatens you with it, because faith is meant to set us free to be the people who God created us to be. It s not about getting locked out of the Kingdom of Heaven because you believe the wrong things, it s about creating heaven on earth, because you have experienced a truth and a love so deep that you can t help from singing about in what you do, where you work, with your friends, and to the stranger half way around the world who desperately needs our help. My friends, the kingdom of heaven is like this. 5