April 2, 2006

“LORD OF THE DANCE”

John 12:20-33

A Sermon by the Reverend Odette Lockwood-Stewart

Epworth United Methodist Church

It feels like I chose the title and text for this sermon a few lifetimes ago. 

Our Gospel story takes place at a time when opposition had been growing against Jesus, and yet a time when crowds of followers had been growing as well.  People outside the community of Israel had begun to come asking to see Jesus.  And when some of these Greek “seekers” get to Jesus … Jesus talks to them about … his own death.  Hardly the beginning a community organizer or church growth strategist would suggest.  Jesus says, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”  He goes on, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”  He’s telling them about his own living and dying … about passion, and promise, and paradox of life and death.

When I chose this text I had no idea how much life and death would be on my mind and in my heart.  As many of you know, this week Epworth lost a magnificent and beloved sister, prophet, artist, extraordinary life force, member and presence among us with the death on Monday of Mary Gaddis.  We will celebrate Mary’s life and spirit here in the Sanctuary this coming Saturday at 3:00 p.m. I anticipate a remarkable gathering on that day.  Already expressions of love and grief and gratitude have been flowing to Judy, to the rest of Mary’s family, to Epworth --  stories from remarkable circles of acquaintance, admiration and deep affection … high school shop students, Lesbian/Gay/Bi-sexual/Transgender/Queer friends and allies, children writing poetry, United Methodist Women, young people whom Mary befriended, Epworth Elders whom she fed … tradeswomen and men, union workers, church leaders, church gadflies, church folks … it’s amazing and wondrous the wildly diverse communities of folks whose lives Mary touched and changed naturally with equal love, passion, and power.  She drew upon and grew an amazing extended family. I invite you to behold the tribute constructed in the balcony, of course, by Karin Hilton and Carolyn Talmadge…..this morning.

In the midst of grief, I have looked back at the text for today and re-read … “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” I hear Jesus’ wisdom, “Those who love their life, who cling or control life, will lose it, but those who aren’t preoccupied with protecting their life as it is will keep it forever.”

Somehow those deep, abiding, eternal but sometimes frustratingly non-specific assurances take on tangible form… Gospel is embodied … and I give thanks. “those who aren’t preoccupied with protecting their life as it is will keep it forever.” What a great description of Mary Gaddis.

This week the movement of life and death made another appearance for me.  At 4:00 a.m. Wednesday we took my Mom back to the Alta Bates Emergency Room with acute abdominal pain … which turned out to be a blockage in the colon … which turned out to be malignant … which turned out to have spread extensively throughout her body … and which suddenly leaves us all with new prospects, new questions, and new tasks.

These past few days in the hospital, Mom has been surrounded by her five daughters … by grandchildren and sons-in-law … and it’s obvious she loves the gathering even through her pain.  There’s something about ingathering -- the in-gathering of community … whether of family, or friends, or prayers, or amazing extended kinships… the reminder that wherever we are, whatever we face, we do not bear it alone … that provides strength and reassurance.  Heather, Judy and Mary’s daughter, is here today –We need her and she needs us. We know that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.  We know we are sustained by the Source of all life and love.

It’s a wondrous confluence of circumstance that this morning here at Epworth we also celebrate the Sacrament of Baptism for Corrie Jane Kelleigh … a fourth generation member of Epworth’s extended family … her family has gathered, her Great-grandmother, Betty, reigns in joy!   Corrie’s presence and her receiving the Sacrament of Baptism as sign and symbol of God’s love and blessing is a fundamental and dramatic reminder that new life always breaks in on us, … with its promise of new birth and rebirth. 

The title of this morning’s Communion Meditation comes, of course, from Sydney Carter’s hymn “Lord of the Dance.”  Written more than forty years ago, it sings of God’s presence as “Lord of the Dance.” … The verses place the dance in the context of Creation as well as the drama of Jesus’ life.  “I danced in the morning when the earth was begun …”    “I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame, the holy people said it was a shame …”  And then the song comes to death … and life.  “I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black … It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.  They buried my body and they thought I’d gone … But I am the dance and I still go on!  Dance, then, wherever you may be.  I am the Lord of the Dance said he. And I’ll lead you all wherever you may be, and I’ll lead you all in the dance said he.”

I don’t have my feelings resolved.  I’m angry at Mary’s being taken away from us so suddenly and tragically.  AND I’m grateful for being changed by her life and love.  I’m worried about my mom, I’m not ready to release her from the life she has lived with beauty, love, and orneriness for nearly nine decades.  AND I’m grateful for her being.  Grief and gratitude dance inside me today.  Joy and outrage dance ---at the kind of death Jesus died, at the beauty of creation,  at the kind of deaths children in this land and around the world die from poverty and injustice  as Judy and Dianne sang so powerfully moments ago.

There is a power in which you and I are invited to live and breathe, to face uncertainty, and to fight injustice – everywhere-- … the power of the Lord … of the Dance … losing life to find it … letting go in order to be held … dying and being reborn.

One day in the ICU of the hospital in Walnut Creek, Mary, kind of drifting in and out of sleep if not consciousness … opened her eyes and looked at me and said, “Why do we make such a big thing out of communion? Can’t we all just eat?”  Exactly.  Let the church say “amen.”  Mary, as some of you know, didn’t like language about blood and sacrifice … so she wasn’t sure about the communion elements … but she was sure about the community that celebrated.  And she understood ritual.

What I said to her, and what I say to you, is something Mary understood with food, and shoes, and water, and dance -- we make such a big thing about communion because ritual helps us to remember … connection to our source and to one another and to creation. Ritual helps us remember the question:  “Why can we all just eat?”