“Picking Up The Pieces”

 

Romans 13:8-14

September 8, 2002

St. Paul United Methodist Church

September 8, 2002

 

I do not know if the story that came across my desk is true or not, but I suspect that it is.  It is the story of a four year old boy who loved to go to Vacation Bible School.  He loved to come to the Sanctuary as the children were gathering and to sing the songs of the faith like, “Father Abraham” He loved to do the motions that accompany that song.  He also loved to sing the “Hallelujah”song.  He loved to sing “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” while the rest of the children sang, “Praise ye the Lord.”  Actually you do not sing that song.  Generally you shout the words of that song.  The four year old loved doing that.  He enjoyed  going to the Bible story room where he heard stories about Joshua, Moses, Jonah, Jesus, Paul, and Peter.  He loved going to the snack room because there he could eat cookies at 9:30 in the morning.  His mother would never let him do that at home.  But of all the rooms that he went to, his favorite one was the arts and crafts room.  On the first day, the volunteer in that class said, “We are going to make something everyday.  But, we will make a clay pot and you will work on it everyday.  On Friday, you can take it home.  We will mold and shape the pot.

On Thursday afternoon, we will put the pots in a kiln and fire them.  Friday morning, the pot will be ready to take home.  The boy was excited about the project.  He was so anxious to work on it.  Everyday he would work on it.  He would mold and shape it.  He was so proud.  And everyday at noon, when his mother picked him up, he would say, “Mama, on Friday I am going to give you the best present in the history of the world.”  Some four year olds are good at keeping secrets.  He was not good at that, but he had kept this secret all week long.  Everyday he went to Vacation Bible School, he sang the songs, heard the lesson, ate his snack, had recreation time, and worked on the pot.  And everyday at noon, he exclaimed, “Mama, on Friday I am going to give you the best present in the history of the world!”

 


On Friday morning, he arrived at church.  He sang the songs, he heard the story, he ate the snack, he had fun in the gym.  His last stop that morning was in the arts and crafts room.  He reached for the pictures that he had drawn and colored and he put them in his right hand.  In his left hand, he put the prized pot.  It was the most gorgeous piece of pottery ever known to mankind.  He was so anxious to give it to his mother.  He ran outside the craft room.  Did you hear me say the word “run?”  Some four year olds are good at running.  Some are not.  He was not!  He tripped over his own feet.  If you were there, you would have seen in his right hand, all these papers and all these things that he had painted rise to the heavens.  They were flying in the air.  If you were there, you would have seen the pot fly out of his left hand.  He lunged for the pot, but he could not catch it.  It was just out of his reach and when it hit the hard, tiled floor, it smashed into hundreds of pieces.  Do you know what happens when a four year old boy whose gift for his mother smashes on the floor?  He cried.  He cried so hard that he could not catch his breath.  The teachers came and tried to console him.  They said, “It is alright, it’s okay, it was just a pot.”  You don’t tell a four year old who had made something for his mother that it’s just a pot.  Another volunteer said, “It’s alright, it was nothing.”  You don’t tell a four year old that it was nothing.  A well meaning volunteer said, “It’s okay, we can make another one.”  It was three minutes until noon.  His mother would be there in three minutes.  She would be expecting the best present in the history of the world.  There was not time to make another one.  His mother finally got there.  She arrived on the scene and saw what had happened.  She ran to her son.  She got on the floor with him and she held him.  She let him cry for a few minutes and then she said, “Son, let’s gather up all these pieces, take them home, and see what we can make of this.”  And that is what they did.

 

Could it be that it has been a year since what was in front of us was not a pot in a thousand pieces, but buildings in millions of pieces, and lives in thousands of pieces?  My daughter will not remember September 11, 2001.  She will read about it in her history books.  By the way, history books produced this year already have the story of September 11, 2001 in them. What I want us to think about this morning is what it means for us to pick up the pieces of September 11th.  My guess is that you can remember where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing when you heard the news of the terrorist attacks.  In the days that followed, one of the things that I did was to watch CNN for the latest information.  I turned on my television one evening and CNN was airing a worship service from a cathedral in Washington, D.C.  There, standing in the pulpit was the Rev. Billy Graham, one of my heroes of the faith.  I thought to myself, “Yes!”  I got a pen and a pad.  I knew that I would be preaching in a few days.  I knew that Billy Graham would have inspirational words.  I knew that he would have an answer to the questions that everyone was asking.  Billy stood in the pulpit and he said, “The whole nation, the world, is asking the question of why this happened.”  I was ready.  My pen was there; I had a backup pen just in case I ran out of ink.  Billy Graham said in front of everybody, “I don’t know why this happened.”  I don’t know, Billy Graham?  You don’t know?  And if Billy Graham doesn’t know then I am sure that I do not know either.

 

Not long ago, I attended a funeral for a friend of mine who died suddenly.  A friend of mine performed the service.  Both he and I had known this man for some time.  While they planned the service, the man’s wife said, “My husband died so suddenly and I just want to know why?”  Why, not as in, “What was the cause of death?” But why as in “Why now?”  In the funeral service, the preacher stood up, and said, “The question of ‘why?’ is an appropriate question to ask this morning; we all ask it so many times.  But this morning I want us to ask the question of, ‘what now?’”  As in, what do we do now?  Given that the anniversary of September 11th is only three days away now, I want us to ask the “What now?”  question of us all.  As in, “What do we do now?” 

 


I want you to know that for weeks I have struggled with what to preach this morning.  I thought, “What do we say?  What scripture lesson do we use?”  Bryan Gray and I talked about a lot of possibilities.  Last year, following the tragedy, CNN and other networks interviewed family members who were looking for loved ones.  In each of the interviews, the family members held up pictures and said that if anyone had seen their family member to please call the number of the pamphlet.  Did you see those interviews?  Did you see the faces of those who were missing?  I was so touched by those, that if I had preached last year on the Sunday following the eleventh, I would  have found a way to shoot those images on a screen.  CNN replayed some of those interviews yesterday and I watched them again.  The suggested lectionary lesson for that Sunday was the fifteenth chapter of Luke’s gospel where Jesus talks about things that are lost.  He begins by talking about a lost sheep, then he talks about a lost coin.  Finally, there is the great story of a son who is lost.  If I had preached on the Sunday after September the eleventh, last year, I would have said that no one is lost to God.  No one!  And then Tuesday, I said, “Bryan, what do you think about Sunday’s epistle lesson as the main one to use?  After reading it together, Bryan said that I had to use these words of Paul.  I did not want to.  Do you know why?  Because Paul says, “That above all the commandments, above all the things we do, love is the greatest.”  And he says that “love does no wrong to a neighbor.”  I thought, “Are you kidding me!  Love does no wrong to a neighbor?”  In New York City, Washington and Pennsylvania, that day was all about wrong that was done to neighbors.  That day was about hate and evil and yet I am supposed to say something about love?”

 

Well, what happened after the buildings were bombed was love.  Did you notice that?  People responded in love and they did great things.  Paul says, “Owe no one anything, but to love one another.”  The leaders of Paul’s days, as Liz alluded to a few minutes ago, starting with the Ten Commandments, made the commandments hundreds of rules.  These leaders wanted to make sure that all of the circumstances that people find themselves in were covered.  But Paul approached the commandments from another venue.  Paul said, “Love is the greatest commandment of all.”  Then the apostle turns and says, “Do you know what time it is?  The day of your salvation is closer today than it has been before.  Those who worked in the World Trade Center towers, those who worked at the Pentagon, and those who boarded airplanes did not know that their day of salvation was so close.  The truth is that our salvation is close.  That makes perfect sense.  And Paul says because it is we ought to live a certain way.  He says that the light is dawning.  Are any of you up when the sun comes up?  I try not to be.  But when the sun comes up, it is a wonderful thing.  When the sun comes up, it is a wonderful thing, and we are different.  We take off the night things and put on the day things.  Paul says that we are to live honorably, as in the day, not in the way that some act in the night.  We are to live honorably in the day.  Paul says that we are to put on light.  Paul says that we are to live in this great way.  John, the gospel writer, has a wonderful first chapter.  There we find these words, “In Him was life, and the light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it.”  Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and turn over the armor of light.  Let us live honorably in the day.  Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, says Paul.  How did the words of the hymn that we opened with today  put it?  “Goodness is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate.  Light is stronger than darkness.”

 

Now my question this morning, what I want you to go home with is simply this.  How are we supposed to live in these days?  In light of what we know, what we have experienced, in light of our anguish and our pain in watching the events of September the eleventh, how are we to live?  On my computer Friday, my home page had a link where you could see the faces of those who died in the hours following the terrorist attacks.  You could also see the video of the second plane hitting the second tower.  I cannot seem to get that image of the second plane going through that building out of my mind.  I watched it again three or four times on Friday.  Now, how are we supposed to live a year later?

 

I want to be very practical today and offer you three things.  The first is this, what we can do is to be together.  One of the first things that happened on September 11 was that  my wife called me.  She was home sick and she said, “I am going to get Annie Grace!”  Annie was at daycare.  Susie wanted all of us to be together.  On the evening of September 11, 2001, churches, like this one, gathered for worship.  In part, they worshiped because they wanted answers from preachers like me.  In part, they wanted to be together because they felt safety in being together.  A widow buried her husband on a Friday.  On Sunday morning, she was back in church.  The preacher saw her coming and said, “I didn’t expect to see you today.”  She said, “Where else would I be?  Today I need the church more than ever.”  We need to be together.  That is the first thing that I want you to hear this morning. 

 


The second thing is this.  Something that we can do is to pray.  Go to a web site or two today and see the faces of those who died a year ago.  Each picture represents a family.  For some, more than one family member died.  Think about these people and now their families as the struggle with the anniversary date of their loved one’s death.  What we can do is to pray.  On Wednesday, in this sanctuary, we are going to offer you the chance to pray.  I want you to come and to pray at the altar. There will not be a worship service.  But on the altar, there will be a prayer that I hope will guide your thoughts.  Please feel free to take the prayer home.  If you want to be here at the minute that the first plane hit a World Trade Center tower, then I believe that that time is 7:45 a.m.  Please come and pray.

 

Finally, let me say this.  I think that the world has been different since September the eleventh.  I think people have been nicer.  Do you know that hate crimes in New York City are down significantly since this time last year?  Do you know that people are acting differently?  Max Lucado is one of my favorite authors.  He wrote these words after September 11:  “Four thousand gathered for mid-day prayer in a downtown church.  A New York City church filled and emptied six times last Tuesday.  People stood in lines to give blood, in hospitals to treat the sick, in sanctuaries to pray.  America was different this week.  We wept for people we did not know.  We sent money to families that we have never seen.  Talk show hosts read scriptures.  Journalists printed prayers.  Our focus shifted from box scores to orphans.  We were different this week.  Hands are out.  Knees are bent.  This is not normal.  And I have to ask the question, “Do we want to go back to normal?”  Are we being given a glimpse of a new way of life?  Could this unselfish prayerfulness be the way God intended for us to live all along?  Maybe this, in His eyes, is the way we are called to live.  And perhaps the best response to this tragedy is to refuse to go back to normal.  Perhaps the best response is to follow the example of Tom Burnet, a passenger on flight #93.  Minutes before his plane crashed in the fields of Pennsylvania, he reached his wife by cellular phone. ‘We're all going to die,’ he told her, ‘but there are three of us who are going to do something about it.”  Now we can do something about it.  We can resolve to care more.  The kingdom of God is at hand; do you know what time it is?  We can resolve to care more, to share more, to pray more, to live as people of light. 

 

Do me a favor.  Go back to the halls of the church where the four year old boy is.  Reach down to him.  Pull him to yourself.  Pretend he is your son or your daughter.  Hug him.  And say, “Let’s pick up the pieces, and see what we can make of this.”  In your minds and in your hearts this week, think about other for whom they are older, but still need to know how do go on.  What do we do now?  Let us pray.

 

(Special thanks to Brian Kelley Bauknight for the idea for the opening story.  I have expanded a version of it that he included in his book Gracious Imperatives, page 46.  Special thanks to James A Harnish for his story about the widow who returned to church.  This story can be found in his book, Jesus Makes the Difference , page 50.  Special thanks to Max Lucado for writing about the things that happened to all of us on September 11th.  I have included parts of his article entitled Is This Normal?  You can find the entire article on his website, www.maxlucado.com.  Simply click the link, “Is This Normal?” to read the article in it’s entirety)

 

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