God of the Living
“God is not of the dead but of the living. All of them are alive to God.” — Luke 20:38 [ILV].
As a writer, I have what might be called literary roots or at least some literary connections, companions, fellow travelers. I know people now or I have known a number of people involved in writing. The last two weeks reminded me of that.
I was reminded in part because of this social networking thing called Facebook. It has allowed me to both reconnect and connect with writers I have known and/or newly know. One of those writers, a college level teacher of writing, posted on Facebook that she is involved with something called NaNoWriMo. What is that? Why it’s National Novel Writing Month, of course— NaNoWriMo— National Novel Writing Month.
Always held in November, the project challenges participants to write a new novel of at least 50,000 words in just one month. In July 1999 the NaNoWriMo project started with only 21 participants.
Last year, 2009, almost 170,000 people took part, writing over 2.4 billion words. Those wishing to participate simply register on the website of the project and submit an electronic copy of a novel. The site automatically validates the word count. [1]
Another friend, a writer and illustrator of children’s books, is this month involved with PiBoIdMo. And what is that? Picture Book Idea Month, of course— it’s the same concept as a novel writing month but in a slightly different medium. [2]
Yet another friend recently left the legal profession and is working on a Master’s Degree in writing. She had an interesting post about writers on her Facebook page. You did not even need to be a writer to respond.
She invited friends to list 15 authors who have had an influence on them. Among the writers on her list were Truman Capote, Jane Austen, William Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf.
Needless to say, I responded to her post by offering my list. But none of my names were novelists. My list was mostly lyricists— writers of lyrics— along with some composers.
I included Lorenz Hart, Oscar Hammerstein, Dorothy Fields and Cole Porter— not my whole list, just some. But doing this exercise got me to thinking about the song writers who have had an influence on me and whom I have also had an opportunity to meet face to face.
Among these are Stephen Sondheim, Sheldon Harnick, Irving Caesar, “Yip” Harburg and Richard Rodgers. But something else happened in the last two weeks, just when I was reminiscing about my writing roots, which gave me pause.
I never met Jerry Bock, who wrote the music of Fiddler on the Roof to go with the lyrics Sheldon Harnick wrote. Bock died this week. And I never met Joseph Stein, who wrote the libretto for Fiddler. He died just ten days before Bock. But I did meet Harnick, who worked with the both of them.
Now, remembering all these writers I’ve met over time got me thinking about those I did not meet. I mean, I never met George Gershwin, for instance. He died before I was even born. But I did meet Irving Caesar, now deceased, the lyric writer who wrote Swannee with Gershwin in 1919 and Tea for Two with Vincent Youmans in 1925.
And I met “Yip” Harburg, also no longer with us, and I did not meet any of his collaborators. Of course, he was the lyricist for what may have been the most important song to come out of the Great Depression Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?
On the other end of the emotional spectrum, he later provided lyrics for what many consider to be best popular American song ever written— Somewhere Over the Rainbow from The Wizard of Oz. He was, needless to say, a great artist and worked with many great artists I never met from Judy Garland to Jerome Kern.
To be clear, I am not saying anything is special about me by reciting this list simply because I met these folks nor am I trying to drop names. The fact that I met some of them is simply happenstance, chance. It, therefore, makes me feel both lucky and humble.
Now, what I am saying is meeting some of these folks makes me feel like I’ve somehow touched history. It also reminds of how fragile life can be. And it reminds me that some of these great people, these great artists are no longer with us.
Indeed, when I officiate at a memorial service one of the things stated in the opening words is this (quote): “We gather as God’s people, conscious of others who have died and of the frailty of our own existence on earth.” And, yes, every time I say those words, I try to be fully aware of the frailty of my own existence, how fleeting life is.
I think having met some of these people helps me be aware of my own frailty. What these writers I admire accomplished had a great impact. But they were human— frail mortals. (Slight pause.)
I want to remind you of what was stated earlier: resurrection is a Jewish belief. [3] But it is also one which developed over time and in New Testament times not all Jews believed it, the Sadducees among them. Prior to a belief in resurrection, the Israelites believed that one lived on in one’s descendants, one lived on in their memory.
All of those writers I mentioned were relatively famous. And, as I said, I did not even meet some of those mentioned. However, clearly, at some point, no one will be alive who knew any of them directly or indirectly. (Slight pause.) So, if we are not directly or indirectly remembered by someone, is that somehow a point which measures us, measures the frailty of our existence? (Slight pause.)
And these words are found in Luke/Acts in the section commonly referred to as Luke: “God is not of the dead but of the living. All of them are alive to God.” (Slight pause.)
Sometimes anthropologists say what defines us as human is that we create self reflective art. In the most ancient of art on walls of caves, along with primitive sketches of animals, are outlines of human hands— someone trying to leave an individual mark.
Anthropologists also sometimes say the impetus toward art is an attempt at claiming we are immortal because somehow we believe what we create and leave behind will remain forever. After all, what are the pyramids about except a claim on immortality. (Slight pause.)
One of our Christian claims is that God created human life, that life comes from God. Is life, the life we now know, the end of it? Or is there something more? (Slight pause.) Belief in the resurrection seems to say there is something more.
But what are we proclaiming when we proclaim the resurrection? Is a claim about the resurrection a claim about immortality or is it a claim about something else? After all, the reading from Job says (quote): “my body has been destroyed / and after my skin is no longer, yet then, in my flesh, shall I see God,...” How are we to take that? It sounds self-contradictory. (Slight pause.)
The resurrection is not about resuscitation or reanimation. The resurrection is about life with God. We, being children of God, are children of the resurrection. We are alive in God and because of God. Our claim is that God loves us so much we will not die.
So, yes, the Christian belief is that the resurrection of the body is real. And our claim is that the resurrection of Jesus is a foretaste of that. But again, that is a claim for neither resuscitation nor reanimation. Resurrection is what is says it is: resurrection— a category apart from normal experience.
And we make yet another claim. God is a God of the living. Therefore, since God is a God of the living, now, today, we need to walk in God’s will. And it is certainly evident throughout Scripture that this work of God is the work of justice and of peace and that the work of God is to be done now, here, today. (Slight pause.)
This morning we were invited to bring stuffing for the Thanksgiving baskets. Don’t worry if you forgot to do that. You can bring it in any time.
This year, the churches in Norwich will again work cooperatively on those baskets. According to the count we have now, the churches will be putting together a total 448 baskets.
All those scheduled to get a basket have been referred by some social service agency. In short, all these folks are in need.
This is the work of God— the work of equity and justice— here, now, today. God, you see, is a God of the living. And that, my friends, is the only thing, the only art of ours, which is ever writ large in the book of life— written for all eternity— the work of the living God, the work of justice and peace, is our mark and work in which we are all invited to participate. Amen.
11/07/2010
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Benediction. This, then, is an précis of what the pastor said before the blessing: “Benjamin Jowett was a 19th Century English theologian and Oxford professor. He said this (quote): ‘We cannot seek or attain health, wealth, learning, justice or kindness in general. Action is always specific, concrete, individualized, unique.’ If God is a living God and the resurrection is real, action which is specific, concrete, individualized, unique would seem to be in order. Not because we want to buy fire insurance— you know what I mean— do this or you will go to “h-e double hockey sticks”— that kind of fire insurance. If God is a living God then God calls us to do the living work of the dominion now.”
[1] http://www.nanowrimo.org/
[2] http://en.wordpress.com/tag/piboidmo/
[3] This was stated in the introduction to the reading from Luke. This information can be found in The New Interpreters Bible: The Electronic Version in its commentary on this passage. Needless to say, the electronic version of this work has exactly the same information as the printed verison.
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