National Holy Day
Today is a national holy day, and I wish you a happy, safe and sane Fourth of July. Every Sunday in the church year is a holy day of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Fourth of July is a holy day on the church calendar, and ten of our holy days take precedence of a Sunday, but the Fourth of July is not one of them:
Easter, Ascension, Pentecost, Trinity, All Saints, Christmas, Epiphany, Holy Name, Presentation, Transfiguration. Not the Fourth of July: Sunday belongs to Jesus even on the Fourth of July.
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows. And I know that such a person—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows— was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat. On behalf of such a one I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. But if I wish to boast, I will not be a fool, for I will be speaking the truth. But I refrain from it, so that no one may think better of me than what is seen in me or heard from me, even considering the exceptional character of the revelations.
Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” With Second Corinthians 12:8 in heart and mind as a Life’s Verse, from thirty years ago, I share a memory that never leaves me.
A tragedy in our small town: in a boating accident, the death of a man’s beloved daughter, his pride and joy, the love of his life. Nineteen years old, she was aboard when her father momentarily turned his attention from steering the boat, to the sputtering outboard motor. In that instant, the boat rammed at speed into the wreck of an old pier. She was thrown from the boat headfirst into a piling, her neck broken, immediately unconscious forever. In the hospital, coma, brain dead. Her daddy, a medical professional, facing the decision to turn off the ventilator, pulling the plug on their joy and all hopes and dreams.
I was told of the accident during coffee hour at church the next morning. The family were not members of our church, and I hardly knew them. But Monica was the age of my daughter Tass, who was away at college, and I so internalized their horror as to be myself traumatized with grief. As soon as church was over, I left Apalachicola and drove home to Panama City, to escape the nightmare going on in my mind. I knew the family were not members of any church, and [only Linda ever knew this] I wanted to be out of town when they started looking for a minister to officiate Monica’s funeral and burial. I drove home to Panama City to be with my parents.
Tuesday morning I drove back to Apalachicola and parked in front of the rectory. As I walked up the steps onto the front porch, Linda opened the front door and greeted me with “Dr Padgett wants you to do Monica’s funeral. He doesn’t want anyone else”.
Remembering and telling it this morning takes me back to the stunning blow of the moment. It was like a stomach punch. A grown man, I should not tell this, but I did not even make it into the house. I stumbled over to one of the green rocking chairs on the front porch, and collapsed in sobs.
I could not do this. It was beyond me. And yet - a family in pain, a girl’s father in the agony of guilt, self-blame, deepest grief.
How to conduct the funeral of a girl the age of my own most doted on beloved, and hold my composure.
Because, you see, in this vocation, nothing is more unseemly, nothing is less pastoral, nothing is more unhelpful to those who need help, than a minister whose call is to bring God’s comfort and calm assurance into people’s desolation, and yet who puts himself first, breaks down in tears of his own sadness when others are counting on him to help them stand back up and go on with life.
It was thirty years ago. I’ve told this story from other pulpits I served years later, including from here. 2nd Cor 12:8 always brings it back to mind.
Of course I accepted the family’s asking.
The next morning, my friend Joe Eckstine, retired Presbyterian minister who, with Ruth, his wife, lived in the community, their family active in Trinity Church, Joe telephoned me and said “I want to come over”. We sat in the front room of the rectory, and Joe said, “We’ve been friends for years and I know you, Tom. Because I know you so well, I know you’re hurting about doing Monica's funeral. I’ve come to pray with you.”
Joe took it from there: A long, empowering prayer to God, “We know that Tom is not adequate to the task before him. Tom is not sufficient, Lord. But you are sufficient. Tom is not sufficient, but you are sufficient. Your grace is sufficient. And your power will be made perfect in Tom’s weakness.”
The church was packed for Monica’s funeral the next day. It went perfectly, even my homily, which her daddy told me was so helpful in his grief. I held my composure, kept myself together, put the family’s needs before my own feelings. God’s strength was made perfect in my weakness.
Second Corinthians 12:8, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” Can you believe that? I can. I DO. It happened to me. For me. God whose Word cannot be broken, a Bible promise came true when I needed it most: God’s power made perfect in my weakness. I believe it with all my heart and soul and mind and strength.
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Sermon/homiletic endeavor by the Rev Tom Weller in Holy Nativity Episcopal Church, Panama City, Florida on Sunday, the Fourth of July, 2021, Proper 9B. Text: 2 Corinthians 12:8: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness"
Pic: fireworks over water, Getty Images online, with thanks.