The Rev Mark Pendleton

October 24, 2021 The Rev. Mark Pendleton Christ Church, Exeter Being Gathered and Led Home 7For thus says the Lord: Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob, and raise shouts for the chief of the nations; proclaim, give praise, and say, "Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel." 8See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north, and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company, they shall return here. 9With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back, I will let them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble; for I have become a father to Israel, and Ephraim is my firstborn. Jeremiah 31:7-9 46They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" 48Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" 49Jesus stood still and said, "Call him here." And they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." 50So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51Then Jesus said to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again." 52Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. Mark 10:46-52 +++++ I remember the first time I got lost. Really lost. The panic-setting-in kind of lost. I was six years-old and my aunt had taken my sister and me to an outdoor rock concert near Cleveland, Ohio. She was much younger than my mother and flower child of the 60's and somehow convinced my parents that it seemed like a good idea. I remember the band: Blood Sweat and Tears. With the magic of the internet, I confirmed the event actually happened and exact date: August 26, 1969. As it turned out, that concert drew a record crowd of 24,364, the largest in the history of Blossom Music Center. The only thing I remember were the crowds and crowds of people. Long story short: at some point during the concert, I wandered away from our blanket that was spread out on the large lawn. For what seemed like forever for a six-year-old, but was probably only lasted a few minutes, I did not know where I was. I could have been a hundred feet away or twenty, but panic settled in. But then I remembered that there was a balloon near our blanket and somehow, I saw it in the sea of faces and found my way back. The night made an impact on my child brain. I don't know if my aunt or I got into trouble but do remember what it felt like to be lost and then suddenly recognizing something familiar and using it as a way back to safety. This past week I found myself needing to be guided back to a familiar safe place - a peace-filled touchstone. Like many of you, I was troubled by the news of the kidnapping of the 17 missionaries in Haiti, women, children and one infant among them. I learned that this year alone over 700 Haitians, most of them dirt poor, have been kidnapped and held for ransom this year by gangs that control the city of Port-au-Prince. I know that this grim news only reached us because the hostages are North American. I've traveled to Haiti twice with the Episcopal Church - it is the largest diocese by numbers in our church - and I saw a level of poverty I had never seen elsewhere in this Hemisphere. Pray for Haiti. May God have mercy. And then I came across this quote from Anne Frank, who we know from her famous diary - translated today into 70 different languages. Anne was hidden away with her family for two years -- 761 long days -- from the Nazi occupation of Holland in a secret annex building. She was an amazing young girl whose life continues to inspire the world. We know that Anne and her family were later found, shipped off and she later died at the age of 15 in a concentration camp in 1944. Her story grows even more remarkable over the years. Hear these words from her diary: "I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words: thank you God for all that is good and dear and beautiful." This young girl, who lived many long and hidden nights in forced darkness - with horror and evil at the gate - still found space to see light. "I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words: thank you God for all that is good and dear and beautiful." To praise God from the mouth of one whose life was interrupted and later ended far too soon. My thought was: thank you dear Anne Frank, one of God's angels, for leading me back to goodness. For pointing me back to the center of all that is worthy so I don't get caught up and lost in crowded thoughts, negative energy, and problems none of us cannot solve alone. For reminding me once again that God's light can shine through all darkness and reflect back on us -- giving each one of us, if we choose, the power to be agents of hope. People time and time again need to hear words that carry them through to the next day. In our printed reflections in the bulletin this morning, we learn that "Jeremiah tells that one day God will reach out to his people and call all of them back. No one will be left out, but all will come rejoicing into God's family." That is how the today's gospel lesson is linked: no one is left behind in God's plan for return. Certainly not Bartimaeus, the blind beggar sitting by the road in Jericho. Jeremiah reminds us forever how God "will gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, among them the blind and the lame... together; they shall return here." Jeremiah is not a prophet normally associated with joy, which makes today's more hope-filled verses stand out even more. We make mention of this period often in preaching because it was a pivotal event in the history of Israel that laid the foundation centuries later for the coming of Christ. When Jerusalem was destroyed, most of the faithful were scattered far and wide. Those, whose numbers had dwindled, were like today's refugees in Syria, Afghanistan or Ethiopia. They were called the remnant. The prophet cries "Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel." I have mentioned more than a few times as I looked out from the altar - seeing faces covered with masks and the congregation dutifully distanced from one another - that you and I are the remnant of our community that was scattered in March 2020. Even by calling and visiting those of our flock we can reach, there are still some faces who have yet to return. In truth, some of our beloved members have gone to their eternal home and some have moved away closer to family. We're not yet back to where we were. We may never be. Parents are concerned about their unvaccinated children. Folks who are immuno-compromised, some of them are waiting to return. As we learned this past week with the death of General Colin Powell, a long-time faithful Episcopalian, the virus can be serious for those with underlying health conditions. Even today many households, thankfully, join us online. You and I are part of God's plan to always call home the scattered -- to make our way home to what we know to be true, and good and lasting and worthy of sharing with others. We can all be like Bartimaeus, the blind beggar in Jericho in the gospel story, who was calling out to Jesus for mercy - and to be seen and heard. He would not be hushed or deterred, and he kept on crying out. Jesus hears him and he throws off his cloak and somehow finds Jesus through the darkness. What does Bartimaeus want? "Let me see again." His faith made him well and followed Jesus on the way. If we were the one sitting beside the road, what might we ask God and Jesus for? Recall those verses about seeking, asking and knocking... Perhaps: Let me believe again. Allow me to trust again. Love again Let me begin again each day with openness. Give me a grateful heart. Show me what I can do with my gifts, in my patch of God's creation, to help heal a hurting world. Let me believe in forgiveness - giving and receiving . One of the reasons I included confession from the New Zealand Prayer Book is for us to hear the words of absolution in a new way for a time: God forgives you. Forgive others; forgive yourself. We are a part of a large local and global community that is still scattered. Maybe we are not being called back to where we were, but to a find a new beginning. In this season when we consider the many things, we are thankful for, as we watch nature let go of what has grown, see the spectacular fall colors, and prepare for a time of wintering, we will again consider how this local worshipping community fits into God's plan of return and welcome. Our theme this year is "A Future with Hope," words taken directly from our prophet of today, Jeremiah: "For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." 29:11 That one verse, from this normally gloomy prophet, is true gold for what can be planted in the hearts of those we are open to believe. A loving God, a caring God, and future planning God. It is our vaccine to better protect us from forces that could diminish our spirits. Tonight, when the day is past, can we channel the innocence and wisdom of blessed Anne Frank: "I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words: thank you God for all that is good and dear and beautiful." 2