SERMONS > May 21, 2023

Where You Go, I Go

The Holy Gospel according to St. Luke, the 24th chapter.

Glory to you, O Lord.

44[Jesus said to the eleven and those with them,] “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.”45Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46and he said to them,“Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48You are witnesses of these things. 49And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”
50Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. 51While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. 52And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; 53and they were continually in the temple blessing God.

The Gospel of our Lord.   Praise to you, O Christ.

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator, from our Risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ and from our Sustainer, the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, Jesus blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

Barbara made the difficult decision to follow-through with her long-planned trip to Peru that she had promised to take with her sister – a trip Barb described as “out of her comfort zone.”  The decision was gut-wrenching because Barbara and her long-time partner, Mary Ellen were dealing with a recent diagnosis that was rocking their world – the early stages of dementia, and even though Mary Ellen was beginning to show initial symptoms of the disease, Barb knew Mary Ellen would be safe and sound in the care of her brother and sister-in-law while she was away.

Barbara is the closest thing I ever had to sister having grown up with two older brothers. We first met when I was in junior high and she was one of my father’s college students – one of many that my mom and dad “adopted” into our family – our home being practically on the college campus so it was constantly filled with college kids who themselves “adopted” my mom and dad as their parents away from home.  Barbara turned out to be a brilliant writer, journalist and college professor – (just as my father taught her to be!), and she wrote a book about her unexpected new reality of what it was like to become a caretaker for her partner, Mary Ellen, as she sank into the dark and disorienting depths of dementia and the brutal reality of Alzheimer’s. The book is called, “Dementia’s Unexpected Gifts – A memoir of stumbling into caregiving, then learning to live my best life.”  

In her book, Barb describes how reality struck home while on that trip to Peru and while away from home and Mary Ellen, “If I needed an affirmation of our new reality, in occurred on January 23, my birthday. We were in a colonial-era house in Cusco for three nights. We had spent the day sightseeing in the Sacred Valley and I had been treated to a birthday lunch at the Blue Llama, a quaint eatery in Pisac. Back at the house, I was able to FaceTime with Mary Ellen.  She was baffled by the entire experience of seeing me on the phone.  We talked less than a minute.  Afterward, in our room, my sister hugged me as through tears I lamented, ‘She didn’t even know it was my birthday.’ In that moment I might as well have been an abandoned child, my feeling of loss was so great.”

Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, Jesus blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

Barbara then describes what her home-coming was like after flying home from Peru.  “Mary Ellen was quiet during the drive home from the airport; I just held her hand.  I most remember standing in the kitchen, hugging her as she sobbed, and realizing I could feel ribs and how surprised by that I was.  Her crying also surprised me; amid the tears I sensed fear and confusion – and I felt helpless.”

Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, Jesus blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

Mary Ellen’s disease progressed to the point of no return – that is no return to what Barbara and Mary Ellen once shared.  One of those who provided constant and regular support to Barbara as Mary Ellen’s disease progressed was her cousin, Jane.  Barb writes, “Sometimes I would vent with family members or confide in the friends who were my support system. Anything to validate what I knew to be true: It was the disease, not Mary Ellen – who, truth be told, I didn’t much like anymore.  Jane’s understanding was the gift that kept on giving, as she reassured me: ‘I know what you mean (Jane wrote to Barb) about there being no love. The person who you did love is no longer alive. Mary Ellen stopped existing months and months ago.  You are now basically living with a stranger who is taking all your energy and sanity away.’”

Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, Jesus blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

He was their everything! And he was gone. He was what they had hoped for, longed for, waiting for, prayed for – for so long. And he was gone. He was their Savior, their Messiah, their King and he was gone.  He was going to liberate them from the iron fist of Rome, and he was gone.  He was going to set them free and he was gone.  You may recall that they followed him everywhere, everywhere – even to death as he was heading to that garbage pit called Golgotha.  He was heading to that ugly cross, on which he breathed his last breath and uttered his last words among which were, “It is finished.” He was gone.

At the beginning of each chapter of her book, Barb shares a quotation – meaningful for the next chapter’s unveiling of her journey. Chapter 9 begins with this quotation, “(T)his loss…does not go away. My imagined future is gone. It changed me. It changed my life. Now I have to find new possibilities, a new beginning that wakes up the forgotten parts of me, the pieces of me I’d set aside.”

Three days of devastating loss.  Three days of an imagined future gone.

Three days of a forgotten life together – until the light of that first Easter morning revealed an empty tomb, and to the shock and amazement and absolute joy of the disciples Jesus was with them again-just for forty days. For 40 days he was with them again!

He walked with them along that road to Emmaus.  He dined with them in that closed room when they broke bread and shared wine.  And remember?  Thomas even touched the wound on his side from the spear and the wounds on his hands from the nails. I’m sure they laughed together and reminisced together. For forty days he showered them with love.  For forty days they remembered his affection, his compassion, his devotion.

Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, Jesus blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

While he was blessing them…Do you hear what Jesus was up to?  Not just leaving but blessing them with a promise, an advocate.  He says, “And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised, and from the Book of Acts, our first lesson, “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses…

Listen to how Barb describes this blessing, this promise that emerged from the darkness that enveloped her. Think of the personal loss you have felt in your own life.  Think of the dark pit in which you sat as your loved one slipped away from you. Think of the grief we feel when we lose a friend, a job, a home, or the church as we once knew it.  At the end of the last chapter, Barb shares another quotation, and I invite you to listen to what the Spirit, the advocate is up to: “People manage to rebound from great devastation; we read about them every day…And then sometimes we become one of those people and we are amazed, not only by our own strength but by that indomitable ability to slog through adversity, which looks like strength from the outside and just feels like (darkness) every day when it is happening to you.” 

Yes, the physical body of Jesus left us.  The human yet divine Jesus who changed the lives of so many while he walked the earth did leave us, but he did not leave us alone. Jesus is now that Spirit that is alive and well in the person sitting near you.  Look!  Look at how Jesus comes to you today!  Jesus is now the Spirit in our new church member, Keith and others who have recently joined like Anne and Paul and Joanie.  Look at how Jesus comes to us today!  Jesus is now the Spirit in the four incredible and remarkable nurses who became our Pandemic Task Force keeping us so safe and so protected for three years.  Look at how Jesus comes to us today – in Charlotte, June, Judy and Ruthie. 

The human yet divine Jesus may not walk amongst us anymore, but we each know love. We each know true love.  And we each know the true love of God.  That’s Jesus with us.  That’s Jesus among us.  That’s God’s love affair with us.

At the very end of her book, Barb, my dear big sis, shares one more quotation –this one from the poet, E.E. Cummings as she bids farewell to her dear Mary Ellen.  “i carry your heart with me (i carry it in My heart) i am never without it (anywhere) I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done By only me is your doing, my darling).)

Now listen to this same farewell coming from the mouth of Jesus spoken to each of us as he ascends into heaven. “i carry your heart with me (i carry it in My heart) i am never without it (anywhere) I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done By only me is your doing, my darling).”  Amen

Source:             Dementia’s Unexpected Gifts by Barbara F. Luebke

 First quotation:  The Bookshop at Water’s End by Patti Callahan Henry

 Second quotation: Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake from Anne Quindlen’s memoir