Christmas 2012: A Day for Hope

This sermon was preached on June 5, 2009, for the West Michigan Conference Memorial Service. Reflection over the past week of sadness, anger and puzzlement for all of us, I decided to post the sermon as part of my hope that one life can make a difference. Is there someone with some influence in the guns and ammunition industry, whose life might be so transformed , that this influence can be used to change the behavior of just one gun manufacturer?   

“Rumors of Hope”

Ephesians 1:15-23

This is what I hope you will hear:

1.              The faith of a saint is like a rumor we hear; a good rumor, that spreads hope. We’re here tonight in part to tell their story. Tonight is for keeping good rumors alive, rumors about the faith of these we remember; they believed, and their belief nurtured us.

2.              But there is more: Rumors of hope begin in the practice of faith here and now. So we are also here tonight in part to describe our story, for claiming that sainthood is not merely a dead saints society; sainthood is a present-day activity. There is the possibility that someone just might start a good rumor about you because of the way you live.

3.              Finally, we’re here tonight to claim that God can begin a new rumor, any time, anywhere, in any one. There is hope for even the least likely among us; as long as there is enough pressure in our veins to make the needle jump when they wrap the cuff around your arm. Everybody has a future not yet written. Spread the rumor. Every day offers an opportunity for sainthood, and the possibilities are staggering.

Do you remember the popularity of Pope John Paul II? When he died in 2005, the city of Rome was flooded with temporary residents whose numbers rivaled the population of Boston or Dallas, or the whole state of Oregon, to either attend his funeral or to watch the service on giant video screens placed across the city. Around the world, hundreds of millions of us watched the event on our televisions.

So revered was the pontiff that fans of John Paul II wanted the Vatican to cut through the normal red tape and pronounce him a saint right away. No delays!
They say that in Rome, a mantra spread through the crowd and appeared on hand-painted signs held high in the air by worshippers: “Santo subito … santo subito.”

Santo subito; “Sainthood now!”

He’s clearly a saint, they said. So let’s make it official.

It’s not quite that simple, of course, but in response his successor Benedict quickly took the first step, by waiving the usual five year waiting period required after the death of a prospective saint, before the process of beatification can begin. Some believe John Paul II is on track for sainthood by next April – five years from his death and that would be a record.

This memorial service at Annual Conference each year resembles an All Saints’ Sunday service in the local church; that Sunday nearest November 1 each year when even we late blooming Protestants have learned to lift up those marvelous role models of faithful discipleship who have influenced us and now enjoy everlasting life with God. The standards may vary somewhat, but the idea is the same. The day is given to remembering the influence of mentors, character models who gave us a glimpse of holiness, however we may wish to define that word.

As our worship at this year’s Annual Conference takes us on a journey through the Christian year, it happens that tonight’s service, has been designated for recognizing Epiphany. November 1 doesn’t neatly fall in that season that begins on the 12^th day of Christmas, but if you think about it, there is connection:  Epiphany means revelation; and surely a reason that we honor these saints tonight is because we have been witnesses to the revelation of Jesus Christ in their lives. So there; fixed that little problem.

But there is yet one other, and it has to do with who it is that falls under the definition of “saint”. The temptation may be to follow the leading of Rome and assume that saints are only those who have “slipped the surly bonds of earth…”

The New Testament doesn’t think so, and the letter to the Ephesians is one witness: saints are those living right here in our midst.

“I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints” (1:15). And the saints of whom he speaks are not in heaven, but rather they are living, breathing, flesh and blood Christians. Earthy; whom Paul elsewhere called “treasures in clay jars.”

“There is a word on the street about your faith…” he might have said…” or simply, “rumor has it…” 

He is addressing this letter to people whose faith was the stuff of legend; their reputation had reached across the miles and found him, now in prison with lots of time on his hands; he found hope in them and celebrated their faith in the Lord Jesus, and how they loved one another.

Whenever Paul speaks of saints, he seems to be talking about members of the church. Saints are holy people, according to Paul, but their holiness doesn’t come from achieving some kind of moral perfection. Instead, they have a holiness that comes from being marked as God’s people. God “chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world,” insists Paul earlier in verse 4, “to be holy and blameless before him in love” (v. 4).

We are here tonight, without a doubt in my mind, to recall the lives of some spiritual giants who have lived and died in ways that showed us the way. We honor these who have inspired us with courage, perseverance and loyalty to Jesus Christ, from whom we take spiritual nourishment, and by whom we have been mentored in the ways of the Christian faith. Indeed, much of our own character, our integrity if we have any in these tempting times, is the result of their teaching, their modeling; the rumor of their faith inspired us and gave us hope.

However, we are not here merely to celebrate their life forever in heaven; while the assurance of their eternal rest is a comfort to us, it is not their new home that now inspires us. It is their life while they were here that gives us hope.

So while we honor them with sacred moments of memorial, one suspects that if they were here tonight they might encourage us to consider the New Testament understanding that all Christians are saints, here and now. They might want us to claim our own sainthood; can you picture them cheering from the stands, rooting for you and me to live holy lives in the present?  If they were here tonight I’d bet my robe and stole we would hear them say, “Talk about me if you must; but not only me. Claim the possibility of your own sainthood in this life – “santo subito” for you!

Santo subito … sainthood now. If we only devote ourselves to remembering tonight, we miss an opportunity; the real challenge today as it has always been, is for us is to live a santo subito life, among saints who are at work in the church and the world. If we fail to see this possibility for ourselves, we miss the chance to live in such a way that people will find hope in our lives. I’m talking about our families, our friends, our neighbors, co-workers, co-players, the one who dished up your dinner this evening, and would you believe the one who is planning an act of violence, who needs hope in the here and now most of all…

You have heard that the first area of focus handed to us by the 2008 General Conference, is “Developing principled Christian leadership for the church and the world.” Surely one key that will unlock the way to principled Christian leaders is a willingness to see ourselves as holy people in this moment.

So we are challenged to live a santo subito life – to be worthy of the name by which we are rightfully called – “saint”. But what does such a life look like? What kind of character does it take to start a rumor of hope?

Paul gives us some clues in Ephesians: “I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints,” he writes, “and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers” (v. 15).
I’m almost embarrassed to list these, they seem so obvious. But if they are so obvious, how come there aren’t more rumors flying about?

So here they are, gleaned straight from Ephesians…

1: Faith in the Lord Jesus. Do we need to mention faith in the Lord Jesus? Okay, I will. In our Instant Messaging, texting, twittering, face-booking, blogging, web-caming, YouTubing frame of reference, Faith in the Lord Jesus asks for something more. It calls for trusting that the way of Jesus is a lifetime journey. Researcher Diana Butler Bass reports, at Phinney Ridge Lutheran Church in Seattle, newcomers are invited to take part in a program called “The WAY,” no quick membership class, but instead a full year of mentoring and Christian formation. The goal is to help people come into a living relationship with Jesus that takes over the very center of their life. Christian conversion can happen in an instant, faith may take hold of us in such a way that we are startled by its sudden arrival, or so I’m told; a flash fire of inspiration and transformation. Someone once asked Mark Twain if he believed in infant baptism. “Believe it? Yes, I do; in fact I’ve even seen it!”

Sudden faith happens; we have even seen it happen. St. Paul’s Damascus road-trip comes to mind; Microwave faith in Jesus.

But those who stay on the road like these we remember this evening, learned along the way that the Christian walk is just that, a walk; a marathon not a sprint; more like a crock-pot slow cook. Maybe the preparations we make for sainthood – which of course is what every membership class should be – should be done in the style of Phinney Ridge; take time to join the community of faith because time is what it takes to develop a living relationship where the hope is that Jesus will take over the center of our lives. Joan Henderson was a participant in The WAY when Butler Bass did her research at Phinney Ridge. She called the experience a “continuing invitation,”— a life in which “Christ calls us to follow.” That’s what saints do, plain and simple — they follow Jesus on the way to God. You’ve heard that before; and you have seen it in the lives of these saints who take their place alongside Christ in eternity. So that’s the first thing: Rumors of hope flourish when the slow cooking, patient warming-up-to-live-like-Jesus shows in us. When we see that happening in someone, we see a saint here and now.

2: Love toward all the saints. How do you love a saint?

In the first days of the church, the saints were a community of love and concern, one with visible acts of practical service. One of the first things the early Christians did was to organize a diaconate to make certain that widows and the needy got some relief (Acts 6:1-7). The fact that we are celebrating faithful lives tonight is evidence enough that they loved others. We want to honor them, because we feel indebted to them; we have been on the receiving end of their love, and we have witnessed their acts of faith.

“Contribute to the needs of the saints,” wrote Paul to the Romans;

“extend hospitality to strangers” (Romans 12:13);

And in his instructions to the young Timothy, Paul encouraged him to train himself in acts of godliness…

“Wash the feet of the saints, and help the afflicted” (1 Timothy 5:10).

Paul spearheaded an offering – maybe the first church fund-drive, when he received an offering for the faith community in Jerusalem, and described it as a special “ministry to the saints” (2 Corinthians 8:4).

In these we remember tonight, we have seen that hope comes from more than words; it is an act of practical service. It is more than warmth and affection for which we celebrate the memory of our mentors in faith. They practiced what they preached, showed love toward all the saints. There was integrity in their words because their works matched up. You can pull that off for a short while, but it takes stamina to love another saint, especially the kind who test us with their humanness. When practice confirms profession of faith, rumors of hope fly.

3: A spirit of wisdom and revelation. That’s the third rumor-starter; — a quality we can enjoy right here, right now. “I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ,” Paul continues in one of his long-winded 83-word sentences… “the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power” (vv. 17-19). People who are saints in this life assume that God is always ahead of them, not stuck behind them, and they continually strive to learn what God is revealing to them about their future.

A generation ago, a well-known worldly philosopher named Gracie Allen said, “Never put a period where God has placed a comma.   It reminds us that God is leading us into a future of new wisdom, new revelations, new understandings, new insights. Don’t put a period where God has placed a comma — saints take this seriously as they look for a new wisdom and revelation every day.

This spirit of wisdom and revelation ignites the hope to which God has called us, the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and the immeasurable greatness of his power. We don’t have to die and go to heaven before we can have this wisdom — we can have it in this world, santo subito.
Here is the story of someone who had this spirit…

A true story

“It all started early Tuesday morning, Feb. 21, when Louise Degrafinried’s husband, Nathan, got up from bed in Macon, Tennessee, to let out the cat. “Cat,” as they called him, stood at the edge of the porch, his hair bristled up on his arched back, and he hissed. “What you see out there, Cat?” Nathan asked.

And just then a big man stepped from around the corner of the house and pointed a shotgun at Nathan.

“Lord, Honey,” Louise heard her husband shout. “Open the door, he’s got a gun.”

Before she could open the door, the man with the gun had shoved Nathan inside, pushing him and Louise against the wall.

“Don’t make me kill you!” he shouted, thrusting the gun in their faces. The couple knew immediately that the intruder was one of the escaped inmates whom they had heard about on the radio. He was Riley Arzeneaux of Memphis, who, along with four other inmates, had escaped from Fort Pillow State Prison the previous Saturday.

Louise Degrafinried, a 73 year old grandmother, stood her ground. “Young man,” she said, “I am a Christian lady. I don’t believe in no violence. Put that gun down and you sit down, right now. I don’t allow no violence here.”

The man relaxed his grip on the shotgun. He looked at her for a moment. Louise never took her eyes off him. Then he laid his gun on the couch.

“Lady,” he said quietly, “I’m so hungry. I haven’t had nothing to eat for three days.”

“Young man, you just sit down there and I’ll fix you breakfast. Nathan,” she said, “go get this young man some dry socks.”

With that, Louise went to work. She fixed ham, bacon, eggs, grits, white bread toast, milk and coffee. Then she got out her best napkins, and set her kitchen table.

As they sat down, Louise took the young man by the hand and said, “Young man, in my house, we give thanks. Let’s give thanks that you came here and are safe.” After her prayer, she asked if he wanted to pray. He didn’t say anything, so she said, “Just say, ‘Jesus wept.’ Say it!” Then they ate breakfast together.

“Why did you tell him to say, ‘Jesus wept,’ a reporter asked her later. “Because,” she said, “I figured he didn’t have no church background, so I wanted him to start off simple; something short, you know.”

Mrs. Degrafinried said, “After breakfast, we sat there and I began to pray. I held his hand and kept patting him on the leg. He trembled all over. I said, “Young man, I love you and God loves you. God loves us all, every one of us, but especially you.”

“You sound just like my grandmother,” he said. “She’s dead.” Nathan said that he saw one tear fall down the boy’s cheek.

About that time, we heard police cars coming down the lane. “They gonna kill me when they get here,” he said frightened.

“No young man, they ain’t going to hurt you. You done wrong, but God loves you.” Then me and Nathan took him by the arms, helped him up, and took him out of the kitchen toward the door. “You let me do all the talking,” I told him. The police got out of their cars. They had their big guns out. I shouted to them, “Y’all put those guns away. I don’t allow no violence here. Put them down. Go on! This young man wants to go back. Nathan,” I said, “you bring the young man on to the car.” The police, with their guns down, put handcuffs on the young man and took him back to prison.

That same afternoon, two other prisoners who had been separated from Arzeneaux entered a suburban backyard where a couple were barbecuing. The husband went into his house and came out with a gun. The escapees shot and killed him and took his wife hostage.

Was Mrs. Degrafinried frightened? “My, no,” she chuckled. “Nathan said he was scared, but not me. I knew God was with me, and God had sent the young man to me for a reason. Besides, I ain’t afraid of dying, neither. My soul is right with the Lord. I knew His hand was upon me as surely as I had my hand on that young man.”

(William Willimon, The Christian Century)

But that is not the end of the story of the life of Riley. Louise and Nathan were asked to press charges against him for holding them hostage, but they refused to do so, saying he had done them no harm, so those charges were dropped. Riley did have several years added to his sentence for the escape, but Louise began corresponding with him and visiting him in prison. On those visits she prayed with him. She asked for his photo and put it in her family album, and she began working for his release. Through her slow-cooking persistent influence, Riley eventually became a Christian.

He was freed in 1995, and in 1998, when Louise died, Riley was among those who spoke at her funeral. He told the mourners that Louise was “real Christianity.” He was invited to join family members to help carry her coffin to its burial place.

Louise’s children have continued the relationship with Riley. And Riley has stayed out of trouble since. He has a responsible job, is married and has a son. Not long ago, he was the guest speaker at Northwest Elementary School in Mason, Tennessee, where the principal of the school is, can you guess?--a daughter of Louise and Nathan Degrafinried.

This is not a rumor. Most of us will never find ourselves in circumstances like this. But Louise embodied the power Paul was talking about: not the ability to save herself and others from harm, but the ability to really see and care about another person to such an extent that the Christian testimony she gave to him became redemptive and life-giving.

Riley Arzeneaux learned that hope can begin with a rumor; he found through Louise Degrafinried that the faithful words and the practice of another can have the power to transform; and God began a new story for him.

God can begin a rumor with you, or me!

Faith in the Lord Jesus.
Love toward all the saints.
A spirit of wisdom and revelation.
The keys to a santo subito life.

May such faith, love and spirit take hold of us.

The most detailed account of the story I’ve come upon was “Bless You, Mrs. Degrafinried” by William H. Willimon, published in Christian Century, March 14, 1984. It was based on the author’s interview with Louise Degrafinried. I have found additional details in various Memphis newspaper accounts published in 1998 after the death of Louise Degrafinried as well as in a recording of a talk by Riley Arzeneaux given in 2004 at the Northwest Elementary School in Mason, Tennessee. The school’s principal is a daughter of Louise and Nathan Degrafinried.