St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
August 7, 2022
Year C: The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20
Psalm 50:1-8, 23-24
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Luke 12:32-40
Where Are Our Hearts?
A few days ago I had the sacred privilege of visiting the home of our parishioner Joan McShane to pray with Joan and her family as her earthly life drew to a close.
If you’ve been around long enough, I’m sure you’ve been in similar situations, gathered around a bedside as the veil between life and death thins, and is finally transcended.
These are always intense moments and often terribly sad, especially when we say goodbye to someone who seems just too young to die.
But, in my experience, more often than not, this can be a beautiful time, as the urgency of death moves people to say what maybe has been long left unsaid, to set aside disagreements and bridge estrangements. In these bedrooms or hospital rooms, tears of sadness are sometimes mixed with tears of joy.
Often there is even laughter as family and friends recall wonderful times they have shared, the cherished memories that make life sweet, even in the midst of suffering and loss.
It really is one of the great gifts of priesthood that I get to walk beside people during this most tender part of their journey.
As I was driving back from Joan’s home, I thought back to before I was a priest, back to the first time I was beside someone as death approached.
More than twenty years ago now, my grandmother, my mother’s mother, was hospitalized for what turned out to be the illness that would take her life.
As it happened, most of her hospitalization took place during my Christmas break from school. That didn’t make for a very happy holiday but it did mean that I didn’t have to teach and was free to go to the hospital often.
During those last days, my grandmother and I spent more time together than we had since I was a little kid. Sometimes other family members were there, and sometimes we were alone.
Sometimes she dozed but often she was awake and alert. She talked about her life and I talked about mine.
Her life had not often been easy, marked by the hard work of raising a big family, enduring the death of one of her children, and in her last years, the fear of dimming eyesight.
But, my grandmother was a deeply faithful person, a devout Roman Catholic.
I often think about how, after she retired, she often participated in what’s called a novena – it’s a series of services that takes place over the course of nine days. That alone sounds daunting, I know. But, to get to the church where the novena was held, my grandmother had to cross – on foot - the busy roads that lead in and out of the Holland Tunnel – something like 8 lanes of traffic each way.
Not a journey for the faint of heart.
What I remember most about those last days is that my grandmother faced her death without regret or fear. She knew that she had done the best she could and she completely trusted that God was not going to let go of her now.
At one point in the hospital, she turned to me and said, “I know where I’ve come from and I know where I’m going.”
(Whether she knew it or not, she was quoting Jesus in John 8:14.)
During and after her life, all of us who loved her knew exactly where grandmother’s heart was – her heart was with God and with her family.
And, that’s what this is all about.
Where are our hearts?
Long ago, God spoke through the Prophet Isaiah, warning the people that, if their hearts were in the wrong place, if they did evil, if they abandoned the oppressed, then all their worship and sacrifices – all their “novenas” - would be repulsive to God.
Where are our hearts?
Jesus, of course, is always concerned about our hearts.
Last week we heard the Parable of the Rich Fool, a man who did very well for himself, but rather than sharing what he had, or even giving thanks to God for his good fortune, he planned bigger barns for all his stuff. He looked forward to eating, drinking and being merry all by himself.
But, in a moment, his life was over.
Where are our hearts?
Today’s gospel lesson continues last week’s theme.
Jesus calls the disciples not to fear. Jesus teaches that we don’t really need very much. And most of all, Jesus calls us to remember that our true treasure is with God.
Jesus says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Where are our hearts?
After my grandmother died, I reflected a lot on what changes I might need to make in my life so that when my time came, I also could step into God’s arms without fear or regret, with the same kind of confidence that she had.
It’s one of the reasons I’m here standing before you today and not preparing to welcome another freshman homeroom!
But, especially these days, I wonder about my heart.
I wonder about all of our hearts.
Where are our hearts?
I’ve mentioned to some of you that lately I’ve been trying to get out of the house as early as I can to walk on the rail trail that is about 20 minutes away from here, in Ashland.
I suppose these early morning walks are a way to care for both my physical and spiritual hearts.
Anyway, the other day as I was driving to the trail I turned on the radio just in time for the news at the top of the hour. It felt like my heart was beating faster as I heard about Ukraine, climate change, monkeypox, gun violence, so many people having to take a second job to pay the bills, and that never-ending pox known as partisan politics.
Finally, I thought, why am I doing this to myself? And I snapped off the radio.
And that’s how it’s been, right?
And I’m afraid that’s how it’s going to be.
So, with God’s help, we need to guard our hearts – we need to keep our hearts in a safe place, so we don’t succumb to compassion fatigue, so we don’t get caught up in the frenzies and fears of our time, so we don’t become like the rich fool and think that bigger barns will somehow save us.
Although I’m not getting ready for a new freshman homeroom, I have been thinking a lot about the fall here at St. Thomas’.
And my great hope is that, with God’s help, in the months ahead we will renew our commitment to God and to one another – that we will spend even just a little more time – maybe some of the time we currently spend worrying over the news – that we will spend even just a little more time in prayer, praying for our families and friends, for the suffering city just down the road, for our broken world, praying even for the people we don’t like or who don’t like us.
Now, I’m not asking anyone to make a novena, but if it works for you, go for it!
But, I hope that this season of renewal can be a time for us to care for our hearts – to make sure that, like my grandmother, we keep our hearts close to God.
And, if we do that, we can face an uncertain future without fear, knowing where we have come from and where we are going.
Amen.
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