The Bungee Cord .11-8-21

Hello,

Here’s my sermon from yesterday….the day that we celebrated All Saints day…. I thought it was Bungee-worthy…

Revelation 21:1-6

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

‘See, the home of God is among mortals.

He will dwell with them;

they will be his peoples,

and God himself will be with them;

he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away.’

And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.”

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On this All Saints Day, I want to tell you about a couple of saints that have passed through my life. Olivia and Harold Schmidlin were in their late 80’s when I met them as a young pastor of 29. They had been lifelong members of St. Mark’s Lutheran Church in East Toledo, a church who in its heyday in the 1950’s had 900 kids in the Sunday School, but when I was there the neighborhood had undergone serious dilapidation and the congregation was much smaller with about 400 people attending worship on Sunday morning.

Olivia and Harold were always two of those attending. As I said, they were in their late 80’s when I first met them. Harold could hardly hear and his eyesight was very poor. Olivia, also hard of hearing, walked with such a slow shuffle that she and a tortoise would have been a close race.. Their daughter would pick them up for church, drop them off at the front door, and then they would shuffle their way into the building, hop on the elevator, and take their seats in church. I suppose some wondered why they made such an effort to be in church every Sunday, after all they weren’t able to participate in the service. Well, they were there every Sunday, because that is where they belonged every Sunday. Claimed by Christ in the waters of Baptism, marked with the cross of Christ forever, guided every day by the Good Shepherd who knew them by name….that is where they belonged. Where else would they be?

In their younger years they had been farmers, farming land that had been gobbled up as the city of Toledo and its suburbs crawled east. When they farmed, farming was quite a different undertaking than it is now. The machinery was far less labor-saving. Crops were much more at the mercy of the weather, and virus’ and bacteria had far more power to make them ill and slow them down. But through it all and through all the years they took on life with hope and courage, praying to the one who held them in his heart, thanking the one whose presence filled every joy and sorrow, and anchoring themselves in the blessing of his body and blood given and shed for them at St. Mark’s Lutheran Church. They had heard his promise to them that he would never leave them or forsake them, and over all their years they witnessed that truth.

I was at that East Toledo church for eight years, and I learned a lot about life in a dilapidating part of a city – the poverty that saps the life right out of people, the violence that is bred from the meaninglessness of life that the people experienced, the hopelessness that created desperate people who did desperate things. But I also learned from people like Olivia and Harold about the strength and might that God gives to tackle even the most powerful influences in life.

I remember when Harold died, sometime around halfway through the time that I was there. As he and Olivia aged, their bodies tired and their lives became more restricted. They weren’t able to come to church every Sunday, but every once in a while they would surprise us by shuffling their way into worship. I don’t remember what it was that caused Harold’s death, but I do remember that right before the service the family gathered in the narthex. We all gathered around Harold’s casket, his lifeless body looking peaceful and at rest. We said a family prayer, and then I saw Olivia shuffle her way up to the casket, lean over it, put her hands around Harold’s face, she kissed his forehead, and then she said, “See you in heaven, Harold.”

Amen.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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