Dear friends and members of FUMC, Mesquite: My plans for Sunday’s message have gone awry. We’ve been talking this month about The Stories of Jesus, and I’ve had some others up front relating their stories of Jesus, too. Ive loved doing that. But I’m going to go a slightly different path this Sunday, as a national conversation has begun which should be encouraged because of the death of actor Robin Williams. This is a conversation which is always taking place at some levels because the tragedy and emotional aftermath of suicide knows no time frame. It is rarely expected (at least when it happens) by those who care for someone who has died this way, and suicide is so foreign to most people’s personal thought processes (hallelujah!) that the quest for answers about such a death never ever stops. But the almost-universal reaction to William’s death gives all of us an almost-universal platform from which to speak to each other and to ask those hardest of questions. So that is what I’m going to try to do on Sunday- namely, encourage the conversation to continue and to take place at different, hopefully more substantive levels. We will still begin with the planned-for story of Jesus, Matthew 15: 21-28. Read it ahead of Sunday, if you will. It is a confusing story at first sight because it sounds like Jesus is being kind of uppity or put out with a woman who won’t be quiet! And I think that is exactly what happened. But I’ll tell what I believe the rest of the story reveals, too, and that “rest of the story” is exactly the reason for the changes I’m making in my message Sunday. After Monday’s news about Robin William’s death, I sat with a friend on Tuesday who is known by everyone he comes near as the funniest guy in the room, whatever room he is in at the time. But I’ve also known him at some of the unhappiest times in his life. And he knows that I know those two extremes are wound around each other in ways which are hard for some to understand, but vital for all of us to be aware of. He knows when it’s not good to be alone. What made Williams such an intriguing actor was not his incredible vitality and quick-wittedness, though those qualities were amazing gifts and talents. It was, rather, that tear in the corner of his eye, that so-slight tremble in his voice. Those things spoke of the deep humanity from which he was able to act. They betrayed the empathy he had not only with the actors he was working with, but with the audience he was performing for. His great abilities came from a place inside that was, we can only assume, painful. Our greatest strengths are our greatest potential weakness. That’s a basic truth we all share, though some are surprised when they learn that it’s true. We can all learn to build on that truth, though, rather than let it shanghai us at times we least expect. But we need to keep conversing to do that. It’s a conversation that can save lives. Blessings, David (You can call me anytime. And some know that’s not just some holy-sounding thing I’m saying.)
Posted on: Thu, 14 Aug 2014 17:35:27 +0000
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