The Power of Story

Comments on Sunday’s Sermon 6 APRIL 2008

Preparing a sermon for Sunday morning can be very frustrating for me. I start with a theme of what I would like to say, and work from there. But sometimes I struggle to express myself as I would like. I know what I’d like to say, and where I would like to go in the sermon, but it becomes a challenge. And sometimes I end the sermon, and the service, on a feeling of not having accomplished what I imagined I could have.

This is where I found myself yesterday. We heard about a couple of Jesus’ followers talking among themselves when Jesus shows up and begins to talk with them.
Of course they don’t recognize him until later on. Boy, what a metaphor! It’s often the case that we tend to see God in our lives in retrospect. Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in our own thing that it’s often after-the-fact that we recognize God was there at all.

But the thing I wanted to look at was the sacredness of the mundane, the idea that God is in the everyday. But more specifically I wanted to ruminate over how our connections and relationships to each other can and does make a difference.

Have you ever had someone say something to you… and it seemed to be the right thing at the right moment… unexpectedly for both of you?

Take a look at the stories on “Story Corps”, also on the NPR Web Site. These are every day people telling stories about themselves, their experiences, their lives. And they are powerful! And this is very popular! Why is a website of where people tell stories about themselves so popular? Because in the midst of it, there is a strong sense of the sacred, a strong sense of people being part of the sacred, a sense of everyday people being lifted up with hope, with life… and… dare I say it… with resurrection!

If I could tell it again, I’d talk about how sharing our story’s changes us all. It changes us all, the teller and the hearer.

Here’s a story. There are many moments in my life that stand out; My wedding, seeing my daughter for the first time, my son’s birth, being present at the death bed’s of strangers and friends, and some more. But I want to share another of those moments with you.

One of the last things I did as a military chaplain was having the honor of participating in a military funeral. I didn’t know the deceased, a World War II veteran. I didn’t know what kind of man he was, I didn’t know what kind of life he led. But I knew he was an American who wore the uniform I was wearing (albeit a few generations and changes later). And I knew he deserved honor for that.

After holding my salute to Taps, the haunting bugle call, I watched as the flag was folded over his casket. Then it was presented to me as Chaplain to present to the family. Before I received the flag, I slowly raised my right hand to my brow in as formal and dignified salute and held it there for a slow and silent count of three. Then I walked to the man’s elderly widow, seated under the canopy protecting her and the family from the hot sun. Before I presented her with the flag, I bent down and said the words that I am forever honored to have said at least once in my life... “This flag is presented on behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation as a token of appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service.” I didn’t say, “I present this flag”, because although I was the one actually doing it, I was representing the most honorable part of the Army and the nation. Then I slowly stepped back, stood at attention, and again slowly raised my right hand and rendered a final salute. It was the least I could do for a fellow warrior, offering him an honorable farewell.

I don’t often speak of this funeral. But I remember it, and the impact it had on me. Maybe I needed to tell this more than you needed to hear it. Maybe my telling it will help you understand me a little better. Maybe my telling it will help me understand a little better… that we’re all part of One Body. It reminds me we don’t have to wait until the end to honor each other’s journey through this life. The more I have gotten to know you all, hearing your stories, the more connected I think we become. And the more of one Body we become.

If I had another chance to talk, I’d find a way of saying how important it is to look deeper than we normally look at each other. I’d talk about the beauty of the human spirit, the dignity of life, the holiness of everyday living, the sacredness of family and friends- people that love you and want the best for you.

Tell your story! Tell us what you see, how you see it. Tell us where God is in your life. Tell us about your journey!

Amen!