A sermon preached by Canon Anne E. Kitch
Thursday in the Fourth Week of Easter, May 3, 2012
“So many years since I saw you last,” writes the poet David
Whyte in a poem called “Remember.”
So many years since I
saw you last,
that I couldn’t
recognize
your brotherly
presence
even as you sat
beside me.
So many memories
hidden
from a busy present,
that I ate with you
without seeing you,
a stranger amongst
other strangers,
talking, talking
about nothing in
particular.
I wonder, were we
ever to meet
with God as we still
lived
and breathed, would
we do exactly
the same thing,
let time go by
exchanging
pleasantries
about the weather,
not even knowing
how to ask the
question?
So many years since I saw you last. As Jesus prepared to
die, he loved. Having loved his own who
were in the world, he loved them to the end. (John 13:1)He loved them all,
even the one he knew would betray him. With love, he washed their feet. Even
the one. With love, he shared bread with them. Even with the one. Jesus again
and again offering his love, even when it would not be received. Jesus
employing a generosity that he meant to be generative, to generate more gifts
of love. Very truly I tell you,
whoever receives one whom I send receives me and whoever receives me receives
him who sent me. (John 13:20). I wonder.
I wonder, were we
ever to meet
with God as we still
lived
and breathed, would
we do exactly
the same thing,
let time go by
exchanging
pleasantries
about the weather,
not even knowing
how to ask the
question?
What we know, and what I believe the poet knows, is that we
meet God all the time. In all sorts of everyday
people and places. Very truly I tell you,
whoever receives one whom I send receives me and whoever receives me receives
him who sent me. Jesus calls us, invites us, commands us not only to give
love, but to receive love, because this draws us closer to God. Remember.
REMEMBER
So many years since I
saw you last,
that I couldn’t recognize
your brotherly
presence
even as you sat
beside me.
So many memories
hidden
from a busy present,
that I ate with you
without seeing you,
a stranger amongst
other strangers,
talking, talking
about nothing in
particular.
I wonder, were we
ever to meet
with God as we still
lived
and breathed, would
we do exactly
the same thing,
let time go by
exchanging
pleasantries
about the weather,
not even knowing
how to ask the
question?
Once we were one
and now we are two
and the second has
grown
and forgotten the
first.
The ancient love
we felt a mere fable
now,
a story across time,
a distant recognition
across the table,
an ache beneath
the glance and
the seemingly
necessary,
ordinary request
to pass the salt.
(David
Whyte)
Very truly I tell you,
whoever receives one whom I send receives me and whoever receives me receives
him who sent me. We are called to open our eyes and hearts and selves to receive
the love of Christ in all sorts of places and from all sorts of people and in
all sorts of everyday actions—even in the ordinary act of passing the salt.
