Sermon: Sharing Memories

Rev. Jennifer Whipple
Congregational Church of Brookfield (UCC)         

Sharing Memories
Mark 14:1-9

Palm Sunday

April 1, 2012

Prayer:  Loving God, as we enter into this Holy Week may we turn our attention, our faces, our bodies, our minds toward you.  May we hear you speak through the words of scripture, the words of the sermon, and the reflections of our hearts.  Keep us focused on you and let nothing, especially not the preacher, get in the way of that.  Amen.

            Should I buy it or shouldn’t I?  It doesn’t make much sense after all.  I have no idea what it is that I am going to do with my life.  This whole college thing, this whole growing up thing is pretty confusing…now throw in this experience.  But, really, it seems like it’s almost calling to me.  Is that crazy?  Am I crazy?  The truth is probably a little bit of both.  At least that’s what I feel right now.  What’s the credit card exchange rate, anyway?  Okay, okay….here goes.  I’ll take this one.

            You may be wondering what on earth I am talking about.  But this is what went through my mind just moments before I bit the bullet and chose to purchase this stole.  I was a junior in college at La Salle University in Philadelphia.  One of the wonderful things about La Salle, one of the things that sent me away from sportscasting and on the path to ministry was its Center for Community Learning, the hub of a whole host of outreach programs.  I became very involved in this Center and was quickly immersed in the urban environment around my school - but also had an amazing opportunity to participate in Alternative Break Programs to Harlan, KY in Appalachia and to La Pincoya, Chile, a small publacion or shantytown just outside of Santiago.  It was through experiences like these ones that my eyes were truly opened, my thinking changed, and my hunger to learn more about people, relationships and communities grew to the point where I changed everything and became a Sociology major with a concentration on community development and a minor in Justice and Society Studies.  A degree that had a lot of people in my life wondering what I would do next. 

            As I was graduating from college and then again from seminary, I remember packing and unpacking a box that held this stole – a sign for me that evoked all sorts of memories, all sorts of emotions, all sorts of confusion and clarity at the same time.  I chose to purchase this stole at an organization in Chile – the Association of the Families of the Detained and Disappeared - before I had fully taken the bait and answered the call to ministry.  I thought, if nothing else, it would point to my faith and make a nice decoration or something.  Little did I know what it truly held.

            You see, the women who create these stoles and the original craft that these developed from, the arpillera, do so not out of a sense of fulfilling a need for tourists – so people like me would have something cool to buy and a nice story to share of the quaint little store in Santiago.  They began to create these crafts out of necessity, in a time when there wasn’t much work for women, the early 70s in Chile under the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet.  Many of their husbands, partners, children, family members, had been detained, tortured, exiled, disappeared never to be seen again.  These women needed a way to provide for their families, but at the same time they wanted to be able to do something to reach out to the world, to share the story of what was happening in Chile under Pinochet’s leadership.  So they created the arpillera – a handcraft made from recycled materials, often times the clothes of those who would never be heard from again, and told stories with their hands.  They shared memories of happier times and hope for happier times to come – pictures of children playing and family meals with everyone present.  They shared the stories of the dictatorship and the resistance – pictures of people protesting and asking where their lost loved ones were.  They shared stories of their faith and the belief that God walked with them throughout this journey that they were experiencing.  Through these crafts they shared memories and helped to educate the world about a dark time in human history.  We had the opportunity to meet with some of the crafters in Santiago one day on my first trip to Chile.  When we did, and when we met with anyone who had lived through that time and made it out alive, they said the most important thing to do was to share memories and to not fear the memories no matter how painful.  Because it was through those memories that people were educated and changed and inspired to do something.

So the first time I wore this stole here during Lent it was amazing and humbling, heavy with pain and hope, and reminded me of my journey and the way it intermingled with the journeys of so many others.  And it reminded me that Jesus and the circumstances of the world as they are call us to share our memories and stories in a way that will inspire and energize not only us but others around us to work for justice – to bring about God’s kin-dom. 

After all, isn’t that what part of our worship is all about?  Part of it, no doubt, is about refreshment and renewal, while other parts of it allow us the opportunity to share the memories of our ancestors in faith, the stories of the Bible, the ones that evoke emotion and memories in or create memories for us, and then to try to figure out what they speak to and mean for us, and what they are calling us to do today.  And part of our worship is all about sharing our own memories and stories like in our wellspring of welcome moments.

So today, this week, especially, is about sharing memories.  We remember the story of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem.  In the gospel of Mark there is much that happens between that entry and the last supper and finally his crucifixion and resurrection.  There are stories of the vineyard, the great commandment, the widow’s mite, the foretelling of the destruction of Jerusalem, and finally today’s story about the woman who poured out extravagant love and anointed Jesus at Simon the leper’s house. 

So why, outside of the fact that we read from the Bible each week, is this about sharing memories?  I think we tend to create a stale and somewhat boring Jesus when we tell his stories, but especially when we try to render him in art or envision what his life must have been like with his disciples.  You see, for a long time, thanks to the great Leonardo DaVinci, I thought that Jesus always sat on the same side of the table as all of his disciples at every meal, and I thought that all he did was speak in some strange semi-flowery language or was silent.  But when I reeeed this story I think of family dinners, of moments in my life where I have shared table fellowship with others, even our own Lenten Lunches here at the church.  These are the opportunities to share our stories, to recall things that have happened in our lives and to speak them to one another – opportunities for sharing memories. 

Because of this story I picture Jesus relaxed and human, sharing, smiling, ‘laughing even’ with his disciples, but also thoughtful and reflective because he knew what was to come.  My hope is that Jesus knew something about closure, because if he did, I truly believe that he would have spent that time in Simon’s house, recalling the times he had with his disciples – evoking in them their memories and emotions, and prompting them to share – you know, about the time that Peter did this or that James did that or that Judas did such and such a thing.  I picture them sitting around and yucking it up like we do at my family gatherings, because they had become family to one another…..when this strange thing happens.

The woman with the expensive and pungent ointment comes in, breaks open the jar, and anoints Jesus’s head, making the disciples a little bit furious.  What on earth is she doing after all?  Not only has she interrupted an otherwise special and potentially even relaxing and fun meal, she has also taken what could have been used to provide resources for the poor and poured it all over Jesus.  This cannot be right.  But, we know now that it was. 

Anointing was an act by which people invested someone with power.  You see, the woman got it.  Somehow in the room that night she was the one, perhaps the only one, who recognized Jesus for who he truly was – the son of God, the Messiah come to set people free.  So, as the scene switches a bit, we see Jesus changing the tone of the gathering.  He tries to enlighten the disciples.  “The poor you will always have with you…but you will not always have me…She has done what she could; she has anointed my body for its burial.”  Then he invites them to share this story - what will become for them a memory with all sorts of emotion and meaning - wherever the good news is shared in the whole world.  To that end, my friends, this is one of the few stories that is written in all four of the gospels.  Jesus said, “What she has done will be told in remembrance of her,” in remembrance of the woman whose steadfast faith, whose spiritual insight and maturity, helped to set the stage for what was coming next. – for a centerpiece of our faith.

So each year during Lent I pull out my purple stole from Chile, you know, the one with all the pictures of Jesus and his life on it.  But for me it is so much more than a neat conversation piece, a cool handcrafted stole that I bought on vacation somewhere.  Instead it reminds me of the women who lost everything and who had to find a way to restore hope and justice to their world.  It reminds me of the joy on the faces of those we met who had been tortured and exiled, because they made it out alive and were sitting at the table with their families sharing laughs and making new memories.  And it reminds me of the faith that we share in Jesus Christ, as it points to the memories we share each week and each year about his life, and all the key players like the crazy bold woman with the alabaster jar, and all those have come to mean to and for us. 

This week we remember some of the stories that are painful, moving, heart-wrenching, and inevitably hopeful.  We remember some of the worst of what we as humans are capable of partnered with some of the best of what we are capable of – of transformation and love and work toward justice for all in our world.  We gather at the table today and are able to share the story of the way that God’s grace and love were poured out for us in the life and death and resurrection of our brother, Jesus, and we are able to give thanks that this week so long ago was not the end of the story.  That, my friends, is good news.  So let us walk faithfully into this week – willing to take the difficult with the joyful, willing to focus on God’s call to us, and willing to share the memories that solidify us, not only as followers of Jesus but as a family of the faithful.  Amen.