EASTER
5th Sunday of Easter
Sunday, April 28, 2002
Text: John 14:1-14
{Reader’s note on context: This sermon was delivered by the Associate Pastor, Glenn Foster. Rev. Foster leads worship at Holy Trinity once per month. This was Rev. Foster’s first service at Holy Trinity since the death of his paternal grandmother on March 8, 2002 at the age of 96. Rev. Foster’s maternal grandmother died on January 16, 2002 at the age of 88.}
Some years ago, I saw a simple little novelty item that was sold in a restaurant near my first parish in Centre County. It was a ruler that had attached at the top a small, heart-shaped pillow, with stitching that described what this item was: Grandma’s Paddle.
As a novelty piece, it would probably be worth a few laughs. But this little piece presents a very clever message of homespun wisdom. It symbolizes the multi-faceted nature of love in the family: the paddle as a symbol of discipline which is so necessary to teach children right from wrong, but here tempered by the symbol of the heart-shaped pillow, which reflects the tenderness of Grandma’s love. Growing up is difficult for children. But when children are located in a loving home, with parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and neighbors and friends who care for them, the difficulties of growing up are tempered by the love found in these relationships. It is from all of these relationships that children develop a sense of home, a sense of family, a sense of love.
I think about this image now because of the recent events surrounding my grandparents. I have been very fortunate to have known 3 of my 4 grandparents. Only my maternal grandfather died before I was born. But now, in the course of just 2 months, both of my grandmothers have passed away, and my last link to that generation passed with the death of my paternal grandmother last month. I find myself reflecting a great deal on my relationship with them, and my family, going back to my childhood years.
On our last trip to Buffalo, we drove past the homesteads. These were the homes I would visit as a child, that provided me the opportunity to become reacquainted with my roots, to re-connect with my grandparents. So much has changed around the exteriors of these old houses, but those same strong feelings of family and place come back to me. It’s almost as if I was 10 years-old again, and coming to visit Grandma and Grandpa. These sites are almost frozen in time, because here was the place where my grandparent’s love was shown, first to their children, and then to their grandchildren.
This same Gospel text was one of the lessons that was read at my grandmother’s funeral last month. Jesus’ words so aptly fit the context; they are words filled with hope and promise. “Do not let your hearts be troubled... In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places... I go to prepare a place for you, so that where I am, you may be also.” Jesus words speak about home, and where the Christian finds their true home.
There is an old saying that, “home is where your heart is.” It is not necessarily a specific place at a specific time, because places can change and times can change. For us, home is composed of all the people and places that hold a special meaning to us. Indeed, it is a place where the hearts rests, a place we already know. We may not know where it is exactly, but we know that when we get there, everything will be immediately familiar to us. There is an old Gospel song called “I’ll Meet You in the Morning.” These are the lyrics:
I will meet you in the mornin’ by the bright riverside,
where sorrow has drifted away.
I’ll be standing at the portals when the gates open wide,
at the close of that long dreary day.
I’ll meet you in the mornin’, with a “how do you do?”
we’ll sit down by the river and we’ll rapture ol’ acquaintance renew.
You’ll know me in the morning, by the smiles that I wear.
When I meet you in the morning, in the city that is still built four square.
I will meet you in the mornin’, at the end of the way,
on the streets of that city of gold.
Where we all can be together and be happy for’aye,
while the years and the ages shall roll.
I’ll meet you in the mornin’, with a “how do you do?”
we’ll sit down by the river and we’ll rapture ol’ acquaintance renew.
Will you know me in the morning, by the smiles that I wear?
When I meet you in the mornin’, in the city that is still built four square.
Yes, “home is where the heart is,” and as one of the church fathers once put it, “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee.” Jesus is talking about that home that our hearts long for. But it is not the smell of baked cookies or the remembrance of grandma’s smile that draws us there. Our longing goes deeper than that, and Philip expresses it when he asks Jesus, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” That’s what we long for, a home beyond this world, where our Father is waiting for us, with outstretched arms, to arrive.
Jesus says, “whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” In Jesus, the disciples experienced the presence of the Father. Whenever he was with them, they sensed that they were “home.” That was part of the attraction of being with Jesus. It is why the crowds followed him, why they hoped he might be the Messiah. In Jesus, they knew the acceptance and love of the Father. In Jesus, they were held in the Father’s arms. In Jesus, they found their true home.
Indeed, since Jesus is the way, and the truth and the life, home for us is where Jesus is. As Christians, longing for this home to come into our midst, we try to find signs of it. We eat and drink, remembering how our Lord ate and drank with the disciples, how he gave to them and to us the promise of a new home with the Father: “In my Father’s house are many rooms; I go to prepare a place for you.” We remember the promise of his coming again, to establish his home among us. We eat and drink his presence, we remember his words, and try to make our future home present to us – a little bit of heaven, even here and now.
We remember the love and care of family – the ties that were so strong – and we long for them again. For many of us, this place, this congregation, is a gift – the gift of brothers and sisters, of those whom the Spirit has gathered to support us in our joys and sorrows, whom he has given us to help us in our daily walk. It is only a sign of a greater fellowship that we will share in Jesus’ presence, but it is a sign – a foretaste of the feast to come.
As we long for our final home, let us also rejoice in the home the Spirit has given us here. Let us love one another with the same love in which we will live forever – the Love of Christ – when we come into our eternal home. May our hearts find their rest here, in the presence of the Spirit. Amen. |
