Ezekiel 34: 11-16, 20-24
Anita Retzlaff
Psalm 95
In Memoriam Sunday
Ephesians 1: 15-23
Christ the King
Matthew 25: 31-46
November 23, 2008
Rhythm and Remembering: Life in God’s Fullness
Grace and peace to you from God the Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus the
Christ! Time does not stand idle! Time moves along, constantly changing what we
have just barely adapted to, become accustomed to. Relentlessly, and often
against our wishes the landscape around and in front of us changes, sometimes
almost imperceptibly and other times with such ferocious disorientation that
life as we know it changes forever. And from that particular moment in time we
begin to reconstruct our world: that day, hour and moment when the veil of our
daily life is rent in two and our world flickers, blacks out, and then restarts
itself at a new and unfamiliar place. Bit by bit, we attempt to build again, a
daily routine that will buoy us up and provide meaning and contentment. Such is
often our experience when we face an unexpected or difficult ending.
Yet life, always in motion, has its beginnings too. All of our experiences move
from beginnings to endings, from endings to beginnings. This is the rhythm of
life. And so as God of the Universe flung the world into being, creating our
earthly home, the follow-up to this good creation has been the ongoing work of
divine grace in which God works at reconciling us to himself and each other,
redeeming us from isolation and self-destructive tendencies. It is a cycle of
beginnings and endings.
This rhythm is our life long rhythm too for at our beginning we are born
innocent and dependent, we learn and mature, gain wisdom and knowledge and move
toward an ending. It is a natural cycle, fraught with moments of tragedy and
pain but also great joy and exhilaration. And so too the cycle of the months and
the years bring us round to this Memoriam Sunday on which we mark the final days
of the church year: an ending. We take stock of what we have gained, what we
have lost.
And we have suffered loss this past year. You have heard the names read; those
whom we love who are gone from us. In our congregation there are six of our
number who no longer sit in these pews: Rudolf Wiens, Lara Ens, Elizabeth Krahn,
Stella Dyck, Ben Fast and Florence Richert. These were hard endings; some were
tragic, others were anticipated even welcomed yet all were accompanied by pain
and a great repository of stories and remembering.
It is in our remembering together that something always emerges, something new.
For with an ending is always a beginning. Even if that beginning starts out as
loneliness and emptiness, it remains still, a beginning. Of the new realities
that are born out of ending, out of death and loss, one of these, the hope that
comes to us, is the Spirit of God’s wisdom, a companion in all dark corners, all
depths and throughout the starkest disorientation. What may at times seem only
like a tiny light of God’s life, a speck of hope, is truly the Spirit of
revelation keeping vigil with us. We come to trust that God will not leave us
orphaned, alone. God reveals to us in many and various ways that we are carried
and tended and befriended as time moves from beginnings to endings and as we
move from fear to peace.
There are times when we see clearly, when the eyes of our hearts are
enlightened. We understand our journey in a new way. Our hearts rise to meet God
when out of nowhere it seems we get this burst of hope and expectation that all
will be well – even when daily life remains a challenge. God give us this hope.
God is its source and we are each others inspiration. We catch hope in glimpses
and unexpected bursts of joy. This is what it means to be connected to God and
to each other; that in the strangest of circumstances or at times when we are up
to our necks in trouble we catch that shimmer of God’s goodness with the eyes of
our hearts.
The fullness of God comes round to completion in our lives. Our inheritance is
assured; the glorious inheritance among the saints. In other words we are a part
of a community of God’s making that stretches back toward creation; that extends
forward into time yet to come and is firmly rooted in the here and now. All of
time and space is wrapped up in the love of God. This is our inheritance. It is
what we claim as Christians. We should be filled with hope that though Florence,
Ben, Stella, Elizabeth, Lara and Rudolf are no longer here sitting with us, we
are, together, part of a much bigger reality. It is the love of God that covers
us all and brackets the beginnings and endings.
The love of God is powerful. It reaches back in time and forward into the future
inspiring us to be love in the present. We have good teachers. Rudy Wiens cared
for his wife in her later years of blindness; he worked wood with his hands and
made beautiful things. Lara Ens was an inspiration to hundreds of people who
lived with schizophrenia and families who supported them. She lived through many
challenges always striving to rise above the struggle. Elizabeth Krahn was known
by many of us in her grandmothering years. She fed her children and
grandchildren with food and prayers. Stella Dyck served many and in a variety of
ways through her work as an educator, nurse, seamstress and organizer. The
communion banner she crafted is in front of us today. Ben Fast through his
teaching and pastoral ministry changed many lives over many years. His service
through the laryngectomy society helped those who were going through huge
adjustments after surgery. Florence Richert was a church musician as well as a
nurse and tax consultant. Her musical contributions came to an end when
arthritis made it impossible to play the piano. She gathered mail from the
church mailboxes when Bethany Manor folk were not here to pick up their own.
The love of God has been made crystal clear through the actions of our friends
who have died. The eyes of our hearts have been enlightened by their enormous
contributions. And so today, because of them, we have the hope, the inheritance
and the power, given to the whole communion of saints by God, to make of our
lives something new and wonderful. Together with them we live with God, in the
fullness of divine love, yesterday, today and for all time. In the rhythm of the
seasons and the years and our lives, we remember those who have died. We are
filled with hope because of them and we now move forward with their blessing to
continue to bring love into the dark places, the lonely places and the places of
fear and regret. Every day is made new by a God who keeps us, keeps our lives.
So on this the last Sunday of the church year we remember with fierce love and
longing, those who have died. We give God thanks for them and for each other.
Advent beckons….