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<div style="font-family: arial,helvetica; font-size: 10pt; color: black;">-----Original Message-----<br>
From: Frank Fisher <f.fisher.obl.osb@comcast.net><br>
To: SBA <SBA@SBAbbey.com>; PRCL-L <PRCL-L@LISTSERV.LOUISVILLE.EDU>; propertalk.topic <propertalk.topic@ecunet.org>; midrash <midrash@joinhands.com><br>
Sent: Fri, Sep 2, 2011 10:53 am<br>
Subject: [propertalk.topic] I AM Here Among US<br>
<br>
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<pre style="font-size: 9pt;"><tt>This is my sermon draft for September 5, 2011, my next to last Sunday with<br>
these two congregations. The text is Exodus 12:1-14. Comments and<br>
suggestions on this one would be very appreciated.<br>
<br>
PAX,<br>
<br>
<br>
__<br>
<br>
Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB<br>
<a href="http://www.ffisher.net" target="_blank">www.ffisher.net</a><br>
Interim Pastor<br>
First Presbyterian Church of Kewanee, IL<br>
<a href="http://www.fpckewanee.org" target="_blank">www.fpckewanee.org</a><br>
Elmira United Presbyterian Church<br>
<a href="http://www.elmiraunited.org" target="_blank">www.elmiraunited.org</a><br>
<br>
aka<br>
<br>
Brother Oscar Romero<br>
Oblate of St. Benedict's Abbey<br>
Bartonville, IL<br>
<a href="http://www.SBAbbey.com" target="_blank">www.SBAbbey.com</a><br>
<br>
<br>
"When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so<br>
that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."-Cherokee proverb<br>
<br>
____________________<br>
<br>
My life flows on<br>
in endless song;<br>
above earth's lamentation.<br>
I hear the real<br>
though far off hymn<br>
that hails a new creation.<br>
<br>
No storm can shake<br>
my inmost calm,<br>
while to that rock I'm clinging.<br>
Since Christ is Lord<br>
of heaven and earth,<br>
how can I keep from singing?<br>
<br>
"Abba, please!<br>
Will it hurt the lamb?"<br>
<br>
Much to your father's chagrin<br>
those words <br>
burst from your lips<br>
in a five year old <br>
scream of anguish.<br>
For your name is Athaliah,<br>
a loving daughter,<br>
and a most reluctant slave.<br>
Being a slave's<br>
not too onerous yet,<br>
although you've been told <br>
many times<br>
how much you'll hate it <br>
when you get older.<br>
<br>
But the mere fact <br>
of your slavery <br>
makes you very sensitive <br>
to the suffering <br>
of other creatures.<br>
And right now <br>
you're incredibly aware<br>
of the frightened look <br>
in the lamb's eyes<br>
as your father<br>
leads it away <br>
to be slaughtered.<br>
Seemingly,<br>
the lamb's quite aware <br>
of its upcoming fate.<br>
Perhaps,<br>
you think,<br>
he hears the bleats<br>
of other lambs<br>
coming from the other shanties<br>
of the people of Israel.<br>
<br>
Your father stops <br>
on his way <br>
out the door,<br>
and he stoops down <br>
to talk with you <br>
for a moment.<br>
You think for an instant<br>
you've won a reprieve <br>
for the petrified animal.<br>
But your faint hope's dashed<br>
as soon as your father's mouth <br>
opens to speak.<br>
His eyes <br>
look on you <br>
with the love <br>
only a parent <br>
can give,<br>
as he explains <br>
the lamb <br>
must indeed die.<br>
The lamb <br>
will only hurt for an instant<br>
he tells you.<br>
It will meet its fate <br>
too swiftly <br>
to feel much pain.<br>
But he tells you,<br>
if the lamb doesn't die,<br>
you<br>
the eldest child <br>
of your parents <br>
will die<br>
in its place.<br>
<br>
You struggle <br>
to fit your mind <br>
around this strange concept.<br>
For you know <br>
your mother and father <br>
could never <br>
do you harm.<br>
Seeing your puzzlement<br>
your father tells you to wait.<br>
"All will be revealed<br>
and all will be well <br>
in the end,"<br>
he says.<br>
<br>
"But,"<br>
he continues,<br>
this will be a frightening night <br>
for all of us.<br>
Stay here <br>
in the house.<br>
And pray <br>
death will pass us by <br>
on this Passover night."<br>
<br>
"Passover."<br>
You repeat <br>
this strange word<br>
over and over again.<br>
"Passover."<br>
What can this mean?<br>
But you know <br>
your father's word <br>
is true.<br>
So as your parents <br>
disappear through the door,<br>
you wait<br>
and know the word's meaning <br>
will be revealed.<br>
<br>
Dusk falls outside as you wait.<br>
The lamb's desperate bleating <br>
cuts off suddenly.<br>
This silence <br>
brought on by lamb's death<br>
draws on and on.<br>
Then <br>
just as suddenly <br>
as the silence began<br>
it disappears <br>
as your father and mother <br>
reappear <br>
outside the door.<br>
Your mother passes <br>
through the door <br>
carrying <br>
the butchered lamb.<br>
Apparently <br>
the animal <br>
you so staunchly defended<br>
is destined <br>
for the evening meal.<br>
<br>
Ordinarily <br>
you might've bemoaned this fact <br>
for at least <br>
an instant,<br>
but your attention <br>
is completely distracted<br>
by what your father's doing.<br>
For he's carrying a bowl<br>
which brims <br>
with a dark liquid.<br>
Your nose tells you <br>
the bowl contains <br>
the lamb's blood.<br>
<br>
Could your father <br>
be offering this blood<br>
to the unnamed God?<br>
This thought <br>
quickly runs through your head.<br>
But your vision <br>
of such a sacrifice <br>
quickly fades<br>
as your father <br>
stops outside the door.<br>
Then he dips his hand <br>
into the lamb's blood<br>
and he smears it <br>
on the right door post.<br>
You watch <br>
with your mouth gaping with amazement<br>
as he smears <br>
more and more blood<br>
until he covers <br>
both door posts <br>
and the lintel.<br>
<br>
Muttering a prayer<br>
your father bows his head<br>
and steps though the door way <br>
carrying <br>
the now empty bowl.<br>
You follow closely after him<br>
and you both look expectantly <br>
toward the table.<br>
Your mother beckons to you both <br>
to come and eat<br>
and you settle down <br>
in your place <br>
at the table.<br>
<br>
On the table before you <br>
is cut up lamb.<br>
By now <br>
the odor of its cooking's<br>
over come your scruples <br>
about eating it.<br>
The same can't be said <br>
for the pile <br>
of vile smelling herbs<br>
your mother places <br>
before you.<br>
Gingerly <br>
you select the tiniest leaf <br>
you can find<br>
and place it <br>
delicately in your mouth.<br>
But it flies from your mouth <br>
almost instantly<br>
as you choke <br>
on its bitter taste.<br>
<br>
Your mouth opens <br>
to protest this indignity<br>
but your screech ends<br>
before its even begun.<br>
For you notice<br>
how your parents are eating.<br>
They aren't sitting or reclining<br>
as is the custom at table.<br>
Instead,<br>
they're standing there <br>
gulping down <br>
their food <br>
while wearing <br>
their outdoor clothes.<br>
And if that <br>
wasn't strange enough<br>
you see how their feet <br>
are encased<br>
by their most durable sandals,<br>
and you puzzle<br>
over the heavy staffs <br>
in their hands.<br>
<br>
Finally <br>
you've received the message.<br>
There's something very strange <br>
going on <br>
around you.<br>
You're not really sure <br>
you want to know<br>
what the strangeness<br>
is all about.<br>
But something tells you<br>
its important <br>
for you to discover <br>
what ever it is.<br>
<br>
"What's happening <br>
on this night?"<br>
you ask hesitantly.<br>
"And what did you mean<br>
when you called <br>
this night<br>
the Passover night?"<br>
<br>
Your parents <br>
look at you <br>
with very serious eyes.<br>
You can see <br>
they're hesitating <br>
at telling you <br>
something.<br>
But then <br>
they stoop down <br>
to your level.<br>
And in a very solemn voice<br>
your mother tells you,<br>
<br>
"This is the night <br>
when the Lord our God<br>
will pass through <br>
the whole land <br>
of Egypt.<br>
And God will strike down <br>
every first born <br>
in the land of Egypt,<br>
both humans and animals.<br>
Your mouth drops <br>
and you begin to tremble <br>
with fear.<br>
For you are the firstborn child <br>
of your parents.<br>
But before your tears <br>
begin to flow<br>
your mother speaks again<br>
with words of reassurance.<br>
<br>
"Don't be afraid,"<br>
she tells you.<br>
<br>
That's really easy <br>
for her to say,<br>
you think.<br>
You tears <br>
start to flow again,<br>
but your father <br>
stops their flow.<br>
<br>
"Do you remember <br>
the lamb's blood <br>
on the doorway?"<br>
he asks.<br>
"The blood is a sign <br>
which says <br>
that in this house<br>
live those <br>
who worship the Lord.<br>
When God sees the lamb's blood <br>
on they doorway,<br>
death will pass over our house <br>
without harming us..<br>
That is why we say<br>
this will be <br>
the Passover night."<br>
<br>
Your parent's words <br>
reassure you.<br>
And your more <br>
relaxed mind<br>
allows your mouth <br>
to open <br>
with a flood of questions.<br>
"But why are you <br>
so heavily dressed?<br>
And why do you hold <br>
staffs in your hands.<br>
Why do eat so fast?<br>
And why are we eating <br>
these bitter herbs?"<br>
<br>
Normally <br>
a torrent of why's <br>
would drive your parents<br>
to an exasperated silence.<br>
But as you'd seen,<br>
tonight<br>
was a different night.<br>
And your mother answers,<br>
<br>
"The Lord's decreed <br>
this night<br>
will be the last night <br>
of our slavery <br>
in Egypt.<br>
The bitter herbs <br>
remind us <br>
of all we've suffered <br>
in this land.<br>
And the way we eat<br>
and the way we're dressed <br>
reminds us<br>
to prepare <br>
for our escape.<br>
For with the dawn <br>
our God <br>
will set us free <br>
from the hands <br>
of our oppressors.<br>
<br>
Your parents again stand<br>
to resume the hurried meal.<br>
And you run <br>
and put on <br>
your heavy clothes.<br>
Then you don your sandals <br>
and grasp onto your own <br>
small staff<br>
as you again <br>
join your parents <br>
in the Passover meal.<br>
<br>
And as you eat,<br>
you listen.<br>
You listen for a sound<br>
you've never heard before<br>
and you know <br>
you'll never hear again.<br>
For you listen for the sound<br>
of the Mighty One <br>
passing over your house.<br>
A sound <br>
which will show <br>
your now former masters<br>
how God will protect <br>
God's people.<br>
And you tremble <br>
at the realization<br>
this night means,<br>
I AM<br>
is here among us.<br>
<br>
Through all the tumult<br>
and the strife,<br>
I hear that music ringing;<br>
it sounds in echoes<br>
in my soul;<br>
how can I keep<br>
from singing?<br>
<br>
No storm can shake<br>
my inmost calm,<br>
while to that rock I'm clinging.<br>
Since Christ is Lord<br>
of heaven and earth,<br>
how can I keep from singing?<br>
<br>
"Father please,<br>
is it going to hurt?"<br>
Your father smiles <br>
his understanding<br>
as those words <br>
slip from your lips<br>
in a rush <br>
of honest anguish.<br>
For your name is Demas<br>
a loving son<br>
of loving parents.<br>
A loving son <br>
who's about to become <br>
the child<br>
of a much more powerful Parent.<br>
<br>
And as you stand here <br>
on the river bank<br>
your lack of knowledge <br>
about this rite <br>
called Baptism<br>
makes you tremble.<br>
<br>
You've waited <br>
long for this day.<br>
It's a day <br>
you've dreamed about <br>
and strived <br>
toward<br>
since <br>
the wonderful day<br>
when your parents <br>
told you the story <br>
of God <br>
come to earth.<br>
<br>
As soon <br>
as you heard <br>
that story<br>
you knew<br>
you belonged <br>
to Jesus the Christ.<br>
But it's a day <br>
that still fills you <br>
with dread;<br>
dread <br>
inspired by the whispered rumor<br>
of your pagan friends;<br>
a rumor <br>
telling of human sacrifice;<br>
a rumor in which <br>
they told you,<br>
"in Baptism,<br>
you will die."<br>
<br>
Your fear <br>
almost drives you<br>
to bolt<br>
in terror.<br>
But your love <br>
for the Lord Jesus<br>
burns through the fear.<br>
And you smile <br>
hesitantly back<br>
at the elder's <br>
blazing smile<br>
as she leads you <br>
by the hand <br>
into the middle <br>
of the waters.<br>
<br>
As you reach the river's <br>
deepest part<br>
the elder <br>
raises both her hands <br>
in prayer <br>
over you.<br>
You stand <br>
stock still <br>
not knowing <br>
what to do<br>
as she gives thanks <br>
to the Christ<br>
for bringing you <br>
to this place and time.<br>
And she asks God's blessing <br>
on you <br>
and your new life.<br>
<br>
But the elder's smile <br>
fades away<br>
and she looks at you<br>
with very serious eyes.<br>
Solemnly <br>
she says to you,<br>
"I Baptize you <br>
in the Name of the Father."<br>
And even before the final sound <br>
of her words <br>
fades <br>
from her lips<br>
you're grabbed <br>
roughly from behind.<br>
Then you're lifted <br>
into the air<br>
and plunged deeply <br>
beneath <br>
the water's surface.<br>
<br>
You struggle in terror <br>
as you look up<br>
and see <br>
its your father<br>
who's holding you <br>
beneath <br>
the water's surface.<br>
<br>
You want to cry <br>
out to him<br>
to let you go.<br>
But of course<br>
you can make <br>
no sound<br>
here in what now <br>
seems to be <br>
your watery grave.<br>
<br>
You can no longer <br>
hold your breath.<br>
But just as your consciousness <br>
begins to fade away<br>
your father <br>
lifts you up <br>
into the air again.<br>
There <br>
you struggle <br>
to gulp in air.<br>
<br>
Yet before <br>
you can really breath<br>
you hear the elder say,<br>
"I Baptize you<br>
in the Name of the Son,"<br>
and you feel yourself <br>
being slammed down<br>
to the watery depths <br>
once again.<br>
<br>
Your time under water<br>
seems a bit briefer <br>
this time.<br>
But it still leaves you gasping<br>
as you're raised <br>
into the air<br>
in time to hear,<br>
"I Baptize you<br>
in the Name<br>
of the Holy Spirit."<br>
This time you've realized <br>
what was to come.<br>
And you'd been able <br>
to gulp in enough air<br>
to make your underwater excursion <br>
almost comfortable.<br>
At least <br>
you think <br>
as you're lifted once again <br>
from the water,<br>
it was comfortable <br>
by comparison.<br>
<br>
You realize <br>
no further dunkings <br>
await you<br>
as the elder <br>
again takes you <br>
by the hand<br>
and leads you <br>
from the water.<br>
She smiles <br>
as you take a few deep breaths<br>
when you reach the bank's safety.<br>
Then <br>
she looks at you deeply<br>
and with upmost solemnity <br>
says to you,<br>
<br>
"Your pagan friends <br>
probably told you<br>
you were to die <br>
today.<br>
They were right.<br>
For when <br>
you entered the waters<br>
you died <br>
and entered the tomb <br>
with the Christ.<br>
Then <br>
like the Christ<br>
you arose again <br>
from the tomb <br>
to the joy <br>
of new life.<br>
<br>
Death <br>
has passed over you <br>
today.<br>
As you are mortal<br>
it will one day <br>
come again.<br>
But because you've died <br>
and arose <br>
with the Christ<br>
death<br>
can never hold you.<br>
It can only pass over you <br>
once again<br>
before you once again <br>
arise <br>
to eternal life."<br>
<br>
Then the elder smiles<br>
again deeply<br>
and she leads you <br>
away<br>
to your first meal<br>
with your new sisters and brothers;<br>
a special meal <br>
of bread and wine;<br>
a meal <br>
in which you come to know <br>
the wonder<br>
that the one known <br>
as <br>
I AM<br>
is here<br>
among us.<br>
<br>
What though the tempest<br>
'round me roar,<br>
I hear the truth<br>
it liveth.<br>
What though the darkness<br>
'round me close,<br>
songs in the night<br>
it giveth.<br>
<br>
No storm can shake<br>
my inmost calm,<br>
while to that rock I'm clinging.<br>
Since Christ is Lord<br>
of heaven and earth,<br>
how can I keep from singing?<br>
<br>
"I'm afraid.<br>
I don't know<br>
what lies ahead<br>
for my congregation."<br>
<br>
Those words<br>
burst from your lips<br>
as you consider<br>
your congregation's future.<br>
For your name <br>
is your own.<br>
You're a member<br>
of this particular church,<br>
and in this interim time<br>
you've been hearing<br>
about your future path.<br>
You've heard<br>
to continue<br>
as you are<br>
will eventually mean<br>
your church's doors<br>
will one day close<br>
forever.<br>
As you look around<br>
and consider how many of you<br>
will be here<br>
twenty years from now<br>
you realize<br>
what you hear <br>
may well be true.<br>
But you also know<br>
the changes needed<br>
to secure your future<br>
will mean<br>
another death;<br>
the death<br>
of the way <br>
things are now.<br>
<br>
For a moment<br>
you consider<br>
simply giving in <br>
to despair;<br>
despair<br>
born of the fear<br>
for your congregation.<br>
But then you remember,<br>
you are a disciple<br>
of Jesus Christ.<br>
You have <br>
already died with Christ<br>
and with Christ<br>
have risen<br>
from the tomb.<br>
Since death<br>
has already passed over you<br>
there is no reason<br>
to fear it<br>
for you<br>
or for <br>
your congregation.<br>
<br>
Then with the fear of death<br>
put behind you<br>
you turn<br>
toward your future path.<br>
You know<br>
you can face <br>
what ever path<br>
Christ calls you<br>
to trod.<br>
And as you step forward in faith<br>
you rejoice<br>
and reach out to grab <br>
the hand of the one<br>
who walks forward<br>
with you.<br>
And you sing out<br>
as you begin your journey<br>
at the wonder<br>
that where ever you go<br>
I AM<br>
is here<br>
among us.<br>
<br>
The peace of Christ<br>
makes fresh my heart,<br>
a fountain ever springing.<br>
All things are mine<br>
since I am Christ's;<br>
how can I keep<br>
from singing?<br>
<br>
No storm can shake<br>
my inmost calm,<br>
while to that rock I'm clinging.<br>
Since Christ is Lord<br>
of heaven and earth,<br>
how can I keep from singing?<br>
<br>
To God alone be glory.<br>
<br>
Amen.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
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