The Rev. Fred G. Garry - September 9, 2001
Texts: Jeremiah 18 and Luke 14 Do you remember On Golden Pond?
Do you remember Katherine Hepburn as Ethel saying, "You're
my knight in shining armor, and don't you forget it"? These
tender words of Ethel Thayer to her husband Norman on the porch
in one his many moments of crisis are words I always seem to
remember. On Golden Pond is a story most of us remember;
it has become an icon, a symbol, for our culture. On Golden
Pond is about growing old, facing the limitations of life,
about having dignity and purpose even when you feel forgotten
or no longer useful.
Hence, Norman Thayer reads the "ads"
each day looking for gainful employment: handing out flyers,
dipping ice cream, anything to feel like a man. And Ethel tries
to believe they are not as old as Norman lets on. At one point
she refers to their stage in life as being in the middle, middle
aged. "We're not middle aged, woman. You're old and I'm
ancient," was Norman's correction. Yet she continues to
try. She sings; she dances; she skinny dips, and with each one
she refuses to live out her life in a kind of dolor ache or resigned
complaint.
The story could have continued along
this fashion and had plenty to say, aging is fascinating, or
as Norman says, "let's get back to talking about me. You're
right I am fascinating." The story could have explored the
way they ended life together as we get glimpses of this near
the conclusion. Yet, instead, the story takes another path. Before
they know it the quiet and seclusion of Golden Pond, the placid
Summer Ethel and Norman thought they would have so to enjoy the
lake and the loons one last time, before they know it this all
changes. Billy arrives.
Billy is a fourteen-year-old angry young
boy who was dumped on Ethel and Norman. And he knows he was dumped,
telling them, "you turkeys don't want me. Don't worry, I
am probably not going to stay. I'll probably head out to Montana
or Mexico, or some place like that." Well, surprise, surprise
he stays and Norman and Billy become the best of friends. Mainly
they deplete the supply of trout in the state of Vermont, but
they also explore what it means to be a bit lost, to be a bit
confused about what is going to happen in the future. They sit
in silence waiting for trout and in the silence know they are
not alone.
Things don't all go smoothly though.
Norman and Billy crash a boat and nearly die. They have to work
through the fact that neither one of them is filled with social
graces. In one instance, things really break down. Norman sets
the house on fire, not really that bad, but it could have been.
Just in the nick of time Billy dashes the flames with a bucket
of fish. Embarrassed about his mistake Norman yells at Billy,
and with his words, wounds the boy badly.
Seeing his wound Ethel comes to Billy
and tries to help him. She says, "he's not really yelling
at you. He's yelling at life. He's an old lion who needs to remind
himself every once in a while that he can roar." These words
seem to add to Billy's hurt and confusion so Ethel goes on with
words meant to be remembered. "Sometimes Billy you have
to look hard, you have to look really hard at a person to realize
he's doing the best he can; he is just trying to find his way."
Sometimes you have to look hard, you
have to look really hard at a person to realize he's doing the
best he can; he is just trying to find his way. These words
of Ethel's, spoken so well by Katherine Hepburn, these words
form the parable of On Golden Pond.  A parable is a contradiction
that has many meanings, a story that unravels, like Escher's
drawing. The meaning comes and goes, comes together and then
falls apart. With each attempt to understand the meaning you
are led down a path that goes deeper and deeper into the mysteries
of life.
Ethel said, "he's not yelling at
you; he's yelling at life." I am sure we have all had moments
where someone was yelling at us, but their anger had nothing
to do with us. In those moments we are given a decision, do I
look to what was said, or do I look farther, look past the moment.
Sometimes we call this a thick skin. Jesus called this being
a disciple, picking up a cross and following him. In our scripture
today the word "hate" is used. And it was spoken purposefully
to mean "look past, look farther than." In our world
hate means to disdain or be angry. Yet in this context, and in
the ancient world, it carried a sense of disregard. "Don't
regard this; look past this."
Jesus turned to his would-be disciples,
like Ethel turned to Billy and said, you have to took past, look
farther. Look beyond the markers of life, the definitions; took
beyond these, be willing to look beyond even your own life. He
said following me is about not regarding the markers of life
that so often defines us. Look beyond them. When you look at
people look hard, look long, look with eyes of hope so you can
see that in each person there is someone who is hying, trying
their best, trying to find their way. Jesus said, following me
is about looking farther, going beyond.
But this is hard. Sometimes people give
a bad impression, say the wrong things, do things to make us
angry. Sometimes things happen in life we don't want to look
beyond, we don't want to forget; sometimes things happen in life
that make us believe it is impossible to see beyond them. How
many of us have said, "I just can't get over that,"
or "I just can't forget that"? Jesus' words concerning
discipleship were not so much an invitation as a warning. Following
me isn't easy. It is not easy to forgive, to let go, to see beyond,
to look farther.
The irony of our day is that "to
take a hard look" to really "look at someone"
means to look for fault or wrong. Most of us have even said the
words, "you should really take a good look at this person."
And what we mean is you should search for fault, for error, for
misdeeds. The irony is, of course, you don't have to look hard
to find fault, to find error. It's in all of us. Hence the great
charge of John, "if anyone says he is without sin he deceives
himself and the truth isn't in him." You don't have to look
hard to find sin and wrong in each other or your self.
I was inspired recently by a book written
by a young theologian, Miroslav Volf. Volf's story is worth mentioning.
Trained in Germany with some of the greatest scholars in the
world, he went through all the paces and did very, very well.
His first book on the church was considered groundbreaking. This
is a very hard thing to do, to break new ground on subjects that
are supposed to be eternal. But he did. Yet, after this was all
done, Volf experienced not jubilation, but a kind of crisis.
He went home.
You see Volf is Croatian. As most of
us know in the last decade a bitter, bitter war has raged between
the Serbians and the Croatians. So here was this young theologian
who had just spent a decade or so in the ethereal Shangri la
of Europe's finest academies writing and studying ancient texts
drinking in the sweet water of theology and then he remembered,
he returned. When he did he found himself in a crisis.
The crisis is very simple. To be a theologian,
no, to be a disciple is to follow Christ along a path where we
see other as greater than ourselves. It is where we look beyond
all the markers, where we disregard the definitions of life,
where we look beyond even our own life and we see the person
next to us as a gift of God trying, trying their best; tying
to find their way. The crisis was this: how can he do such a
thing for a Serbian, how can he do such a thing for someone he
has been raised to hate, to despise, to fear, to kill?
In this crisis he did what any self-respecting
theologian would do; he wrote a book. The books title is very
provocative and is yet again a break through. The title of the
book is called Exclusion and Embrace. Exclusion is usually
coupled with inclusion. But as he argues so well, you can include
people you hate; you can include people and still believe they
are trash. Inclusion is not enough, doesn't look far enough for
following Christ. In a moment of great turmoil he realizes to
be a disciple of Christ I must be willing to look beyond the
markers of Croat and Serb and to see each person as a soul to
be embraced.
For most of us we are not dealing with
the question of discipleship in the midst of genocide and warfare.
Thanks be to God. Yet, to be quite frank, so often it is far
to easy for us to not deal with the questions of discipleship.
Because it is never easy to look beyond, to look farther no matter
where you are.
Hence Jesus gave the two parables. The
man who would build a house and the king who would go to war.
In each instance hard questions have to be asked about cost,
time, and energy. In each instance Jesus is pointing out for
his would be disciples that to follow him is to be willing to
risk, to put all or the line, or leave all behind. A house begun
without enough funds, with funds that were wasted in Jesus' day
was a moment of ruin; a war begun without preparation and planning
was the ruin of a kingdom. Following me he infers is such a risk.
To look at people as a soul to be embraced, to look beyond their
faults and misdeeds, to look to those around us with faith, hope
and love is a risk.
The parables of Jesus always have a way
of coming bad around. For in his very challenging words to look
beyond, to hate father, mother, brother, sister, wife and children,
and self, to look beyond all these markers in the end is to see
each one without the definitions, to see them simply as a child
of God, a soul in need of grace, a person to be embraced. So
while it would appear that in the words of Jesus we are being
called to forget the people around us, in the end, his words
call. us to not only regard them, but offer them the highest
regard.
For in the end it is the people we live
with, the wife or husband, the brother or sister, the father
or mother, the daughter or son, the family and friends we live
our days with that it is the most difficult to see beyond. It
is difficult because we so often carry suitcases stuffed with
misspoken words, misdeeds, failures, or faults. It is die people
we know inside and out that we can remember what is less in them.
Jesus says, look beyond all that stuff, look beyond your offences
and defenses, look beyond your pride or your shame, look beyond
and see them as God sees them: ever a child who is trying, struggling,
bumbling through life, trying to find what is best, trying to
find a way.
Thanks be to God we have a practice field,
a training ground. Right here each week, each day in various
and sundry ways God has made a place for us to practice and learn
such a daunting thing. Here at Summit Avenue we have a place
where we can practice this, try it out as it were before we try
to tackle the big one's in life. Here is a place where we can
try the risky business of forgiveness before we try it at home,
where it counts; we can imagine with one another a day of peace
before we make that call, write the note to our brother or sister,
to our loved one estranged. Here is a place we can practice embracing
before we venture into the troubled waters of a son or a daughter
or friend excluded.
Remember you don't have to look hard,
look farther than the surface to see faults and sins in your
self or others. But beneath the trappings and the entanglements
of life, the ones we surround our selves with, beneath all this
is a soul tying, bumbling and stumbling, trying to find a way.
To see this in others can be hard, especially if anger gets in
the way, or pride throws up a roadblock. The message of Jesus
though is very simple: in each of us there is a soul loved by
God. If you are willing to try, you can see it. If you look farther,
you can see it in all. Amen.
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