Always Remembered
Always Remembered
Psalm 139
The pastor from a church in Pittsburg told me a story of a graduate student from Scotland who joined his Presbyterian church while he was in college. After he joined, his mother in Scotland sent the minister a booklet that had been published when their church celebrated one of its anniversaries. At the back of the booklet, there was the customary list of pastors who had served that church since it had been established. The pastors who served the past two centuries were listed with full titles like Rev. Dr. But as the list went on the titles became simpler, just Rev. John Stewart. They had the names of only 5 pastors who served before the Reformation. At the bottom of the list was the earliest record, the name of a pastor who served in the year 1226. There was no title, not even a last name. All it said was “Richard-1226.” Richard, the name with which he was baptized.
This is a day of remembering and saying goodbye. In times of remembering and saying goodbye, it is good to be reminded of God’s love for us. Listen with me to Psalm 139. (Scripture is read)
Some time ago, my mother began to lose her ability to remember. Eventually, she forgot the sentence she had just spoken. “Did I tell you…” she would say. I would simply say, “Yes, Mom, you did.” Then she would tell it to me again. One night, when I was staying overnight in her apartment and we went to bed, she called out to me from the other room, “Karen, did I remember to feed you today?” “Yes, Mom you did.”
During those years of caring for Mom, Psalm 139 was a pillar of comfort and strength for me. It tells me of a God who has always known me and known all of me. A God who knows me only as Karen. A God who also knew my Mom and was holding her close.
Even when our memory fades, God remembers us. The one who laid the foundation of the earth formed each one of us, knit us together in our mother’s womb, and numbered all our days before none of them yet existed. When memory fails, God’s steadfast love carries us like a mother carries a child.
And how does God remember us? God remembers us like that last citation in the anniversary booklet of that church in Scotland: Richard—1226. Karen—2019. God remembers us by name. God remembers us the way we were on the day we were baptized. Newly born in the image of God. A child of God. God’s memory of us does not fade as we age. It is not tarnished by the mistakes we have made or the bitter lessons we have learned. To God we are just a babe, first looking out at the world for the first time. A babe who needs to be held, fed, cared for and loved. A babe that makes everyone smile. She hasn’t even done anything yet! Proven herself! Even remembered her name. Yet God loves her.
I get a sense of that beautiful child God sees when I have visited the old and dying. One morning several years ago, after being told one of our members, Hal, was having a difficult day remembering things, I visited with some of you and watched his eyes light up across the room when we walked in. He remembered us! He saw love in those eyes, and he recognized it. As he did, I could see the face of a little boy named Hal when his father returned home from work or when his mother surprised him with a birthday gift. That little boy face was shining through more and more…the closer and closer he neared the end of his journey.
Last week, I had my own memory crisis. While moving my belongings from the church to the house, something horrible happened. I couldn’t find my ordination certificate! It was Saturday night and I hadn’t studied my sermon for Sunday morning…and here I was, leaping from room to room, looking through stacks of paper over and over.
Finally, I gave up and headed for the church, thinking it was there. As I drove, I remembered something. A single box I brought home the first day of moving. I told myself I was going to put that box in a very special place. It was so very special, I spent 2 hours trying to find it! Back safe at home, holding my ordination certificate close to my heart, I wondered. What was so very special about this piece of paper?
Then I remembered the day I sat in the pew of my home church and was told, “Don’t lose your dreams. Don’t give up on taking risks or cease to trust in the power of kindness and peace. These belong only to you and to God. They are who you are.”
Today I say these same things to you. Don’t give up your dreams of bringing God’s kingdom to earth, however dark the days become or how small a change your efforts bring. Don’t give up on taking risks, even when the risks seem great. We are disciples of one who risked everything.
And finally, remember to greet the one who will come after me to lead you like you like you greeted me. Cast your loving eyes upon him and listen, just as you did with me.
At the end of every service we have a benediction. A benediction is a blessing. Today, this sermon has a benediction, too. It is my blessing for you:
“Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made know to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence or anything worthy of praise, think on these things.” Amen.