Sermon/Eulogy for Dwight D. Albers (from Thursday, January 30th, 2020)

Psalm 27:1, 4-9

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord. Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! "Come," my heart says, "seek his face!" Your face, Lord, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation!

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Sermon/Eulogy

So, I want to start by telling about the drive home from my Dad’s ordination worship service.  I was in the back of the car, reflecting on the holy laying on of hands that pastors receive toward the end of the worship service.  Actually, I was reflecting on how my Dad definitely was not the most holy of men.  

I blurted out, “Now that you are ordained, do you feel more holy?” 

It was not an honest question.  It was sarcasm dripping from a self-righteous young adult. 

But, my Dad’s answer was straightforward, “No, there is nothing different.  You don’t have to be holy to talk about Jesus.” 

And, that was the beginning of the ministry of the “Irreverent Reverend.” 

Dwight David Albers,

born in Minnesota,

one of three sons,

reared on a farm,

rejecter of going hunting but embracer of fishing,

whisperer of pigs…or more accurately, shouter of hogs,

beloved husband of Sharon and very tired father of three boys, Marcus, Daniel, and myself,

hater of British accents…unless uttered by the lips of 007,

lover of the TV show MASH,

constant sharer of every single thing that floated to him on Facebook,

the Dad that we loved with our whole hearts,

that man was the “Irreverent Reverend.”

He was the Reverend that would be happy to hear a joke in church that was “not ready for church.” 

He was the Reverend who thought that farting in the church office was hilarious.  Oh, you too?  Well, he would have been a great pastor to you.  

But, he was also the pastor who would drive hours on the interstate with a bag of home dialysis solution on his head and the other bag on the floor draining the old fluid because he wanted to make sure that you knew you were loved by God, even if you were stuck in the hospital. 

He cared. 

Yes, he was irreverent, but if I had to choose one thing that Dad cared about as a pastor and a person that reflected Jesus, I would say that it was his passion for the forgiveness of the sinner and his attention to the despised. 

Whether if it was church leaders questioning the worthiness of a Sunday School teacher because of the person’s checkered past or if it was people who were excluded because they hung out with the “wrong people,” Dad had a passion for those beloved people of God.  If Jesus would heal them, they were good enough for him.  If Jesus would forgive them they were good enough for him.  Dad could have a temper, as us boys knew well as children (Don’t worry, he wasn’t mean, we deserved it), but we would see that temper flare again in adulthood if an injustice occurred or an exclusion was thrust upon any of the children who Jesus loves and forgives.

Speaking of his passion for justice, I always thought that Dad would have been a great Associate of the Bishop.  Dad seemed to make it his mission to check in and support the other pastors around him.  But, unlike the diplomacy that people in these positions usually have (and rightly so), Dad had no problem sharing in the anger toward those in the church who were giving any particular pastor a problem.  He had no reservations in listening, sharing some inappropriate words, and caring for those who are abused by the self-righteous. 

After-all, Dad was not self-righteous, he was fully a sinner who needed the salvation of Jesus Christ.  And, that is exactly what this irreverent reverend has now found: eternal life in God’s hands of grace.

And, I am painfully missing this faulty, irreverent servant of God.  We all are. 

I miss his phone calls from the car while Mom sings in the choir. 

I miss his concern for our struggles. 

I miss the guy who refused to complain when one of the grandkids gave him a “shot” with their toy syringe, and stabbed hard enough to actually break the skin. 

I miss the songs that he would sing in the car.  “Round the corner we go, round the corner we go, high ho the dairy-o, round the corner we go.”  Everyone join in! 

No, you do not have to join in. 

(To the grandkids)  Did you know that song came from Grandpa? 

And, then there was the ever popular: “Red light, red light, red light, red light, Dairy Queen.”  Because, of course, we were at a red light and there was a Dairy Queen. 

Marcus loved those songs.  I am joking; he did not love those songs. 

I miss how understanding he was of my struggle with algebra in the ninth grade, because he also was struggling with Algebra at the same time in his own college class. 

Did I mention that he went back to school late in life?  He did, moving from pig farming to the ministry.  There might be some prodigal son story going on there, but I will let you fill in those biblical details. 

While you do that, I will be right here, missing the man who would take the family on bike rides because it was a nice day to be out and because it was time to say “Hi” to friends around town. 

I miss hearing Buffy, Shmoo, and Weenie.  I will not explain; that one is for us. 

I just miss him.  And, I know you do also. 

I am not going to mention all the illness throughout his life, because that rarely defined him.

No, he was the irreverent reverend. 

He was the great friend to those he knew. 

He was the proud father (proud of Marcus’ computing career and singing, Daniel’s distinguished service in the military, and presumably myself), and he was a proud grandfather. 

He was the loving husband. 

And, he was also a kind of pretty good woodworker.  He made shelves and cat houses and tables and bed headboards.  And, they were all kind of pretty good.  He was pretty good at it, but not perfect. 

And, that is who he was, as a man and as a pastor.  He was pretty good, but not perfect.

He was fully a flawed human who has now been made whole, through the grace of Jesus Christ our Lord.  And, he would want you to know that you are too, because that was his faith.  That was the essence of life in Christ Jesus that he understood very well.

And, because of that we will forever trust in the words of Psalm 27, “The Lord is my light and my salvation.”  It is in the Lord we trust, especially on a day such as today.

Reflection on Psalm 27:1,4-9

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” 

You do not utter words like this unless your world has turned dark.  You do not see the saving nature of the words of Psalm 27 unless you are brought face to face with fear.  Only those who have spent some time wandering around in the utter darkness truly understand what it is to have no choice but to trust in the Lord.

It was an IED (an Improvised Explosive Devise) that took away both of the young man’s legs.  And, it was on that day that the darkness overtook his world. 

Lying stranded in his hospital bed, the young man asked questions like, “How will I get around to do the most basic of things?”  “Will any woman accept such a deformed man?”  “How will I deal with the stares, or the unending looks of pity?”  “How will I handle it?” 

The volunteer from the chaplain’s office dropped off one of those little devotional booklets that you get while staying in the hospital.  You, know, the ones with the printed prayers, poems, and fragments of inspirational scriptures.  There were a couple of super helpful quotes in there, please note the sarcasm dripping from my lips this very moment: “If you give up, it means you never wanted it;” and “Miracles always happen when you believe;” and “If we threw all of our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we would grab ours back.”  He was pretty certain that he would not grab his back.  He was pretty certain that he would grab something like, “My Mom didn’t cook the chicken the right way” and leave the “no legs for the rest of your life” right where it was in the pile.

But, the next page in the devotional booklet was better.  The next page had a Psalm he had somehow never read before, or had never taken notice of if he had.  What this man with no future found was Psalm 27:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord. Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! "Come," my heart says, "seek his face!" Your face, Lord, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation!”

The phrase, “he will conceal me under the cover of his tent” particularly stuck out at him.

As a soldier, the young man understood tents well.  In tents, other guys can see when the tears come; there is no place to hide.  In tents, the worst of the day is shared and soldier-like embraces are given.  In tents, things are thrown, frustration is vented, and people are truly known.  And, in tents, you are together, providing safety for one another. 

“For the Lord will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent.” 

He needed a tent again.  He wanted nothing more than to live in the tent of the only one who might make sense of all of this confusion.  He wanted nothing more than to live in the tent of the only one who is able to make a light in the darkness.

Psalm 23 is a good Psalm and all, but it was Psalm 27 that saved the young man’s life. 

It was the words, “The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” that he muttered when he fell, fearing that he would never figure out how to walk with his prosthetic legs. 

It was the words, “do not hide your face from me” that he recalled each time he saw people glance his way, look with pity, and then turn their eyes away. 

It was the words, “Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation!” that he remembered each time he saw there was no interest in the woman he pursued as he walked away awkwardly with his canes. 

The Lord became his salvation, because he could not save himself.  The Lord became his purpose for living, because he had no other purpose.  The Lord was his light in the darkness, because the Lord never lets the darkness overcome.  The Lord saved his life, through the words of Psalm 27. 

It is a good Psalm.  More than that, it is a life saving Psalm.  It is a psalm for those who find themselves in the darkness, because, let us be honest, there is a lot of darkness.  There is the death of loved ones in whom we have depended; utter darkness.  There is the death of stability in the world and in our own country; utter darkness.  There is a persistent, slow death creeping through the churches around which we have built our lives; utter darkness. 

But, in the Lord is light and salvation.  In the Lord Jesus Christ we find new life after the cross and the tomb.  In the Lord Jesus Christ we find a defeat of all that would put us in the ground.  In the Lord Jesus Christ we find grace, forgiveness, and a salvation that never gives up.  In the Lord Jesus Christ we find someone to follow when there seems no way forward. 

“Follow me,” Jesus says to those who are stranded in the darkness.  And, in response, our souls say within, “Seek his face.”

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

Reflection on John 1:29-32

In American churches, most people would say that the two most important holidays are Easter and Christmas.  It is around these church holidays that people try to make it to worship; around these holidays that communities try to organize activities like Easter egg hunts and Christmas office parties; and around these holidays that families gather together to enjoy the company of one another around a big meal of turkey, prime rib, ham, fried chicken, or lamb depending on your region’s traditions.  But, did you know that these are not the most important holidays for all Christians around the world? 

Strange at it may seem, the most important holiday for Eastern Orthodox Christians is barely celebrated by us. 

What were you doing the evening of January 5^th and all day on January 6^th? 

Nothing. 

Nothing of religious significance anyway I venture to guess.  Many of our churches do not even have worship on the 6^th of January…one of the most holy of days for the Eastern Orthodox Church.  January 6^th, of course, is the celebration of Epiphany and the Baptism of our Lord.  The two celebrations are one and the same for the Orthodox community.

Sure, we celebrated Epiphany a day early during worship on the 5^th and got our star words for the year, but did any of us go to worship that evening and the next day?  Did any of us gather the family for a big meal?  I did not think so.  So, what is so special about Epiphany for the Orthodox community?  The hint is actually in our scripture reading about John the Witness (John the Baptist as we all know him). 

But, before we get to that, let us look at some of the traditions that come out of the Orthodox community on Epiphany. 

A big tradition is the blessing of the holy water.  Each family is given blessed holy water in a small jar that they take home.  The pastor uses this same water a few days later to bless each family’s home. 

When the pastors actually bless the water, many Orthodox communities gather on the shore of a body of water in a similar way that people did when seeking John the Baptist’s ministry. While on the shores of the body of water, the pastor throws a cross onto the water, thus blessing it. 

The men are invited in a swimming race to see who can retrieve the cross first.  The winner’s family will be specially blessed for the year.  It is kind of like an Easter egg hunt with all the pushing and shoving, but it is for grown men.  A few days later, that water gathered during that ceremony is sprinkled throughout each family’s home.  It is a watery blessing, reflecting the holy light of Jesus which pierces the threatening darkness of the world. 

Families have huge celebrations on the day their house is sprinkled, with everyone joining in singing Epiphany hymns while the children dance and giggle through the falling drops of water.

Speaking of those special Epiphany hymns, in an tradition similar to Victorian Christmas caroling, people go from home to home, singing these hymns and expecting some food or money in return.  The more religious types of people donate what is collected, giving it to people in need.  But, whether you donate or keep it as a holiday bonus for yourself, the story of the start of Jesus’ ministry is spread by song throughout the community and provides hope to all.

In one community in particular, the evening of January 5^th has a particularly poignant celebration.  After blessing the waters in the church, the pastors lights a singular candle. From that holy light, the congregation members light their own candles and then carry those candles throughout the entire community as they walk home.  As they spread throughout the community, they share that light with the rest of the people in town, lighting even more candles within homes (Christian or not) in a silent act that displays Jesus’ love for the whole world.  The light of the world has come.

Keeping in mind that image of light spreading to all corners of the community, we can see that everything done during these Epiphany celebrations is done in order to point to the one who saves: Jesus Christ.  Epiphany in no way celebrate John the Baptist, however, they do, in every way, try to model him. 

And, what exactly are they trying to model?  We can see clearly if we look at the gospel reading for today.  Throughout the gospel reading John continually points, not to himself, but to Jesus. 

"Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” 

“A man who ranks ahead of me…” 

"I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him.” 

"He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” 

"Look, here is the Lamb of God!" 

In ancient works of Christian art, John the Baptist is always portrayed as pointing.  No, he is not pointing in condemnation like your Grandma used to point at you whenever you were caught with the hand in the cookie jar, (Why do I know that look so well?) rather John is pointing to Jesus.  His whole life is one that points to Jesus. 

That is what these Orthodox Christians find so important about Epiphany.  It is all about Jesus.  The light that banishes the darkness…that is Jesus.  The sharing of that light is the sharing of Jesus.  The haphazard sprinkling of water throughout the community is the haphazard sprinkling of Jesus throughout the community. 

It is all about Jesus.  In all we do, we point to Jesus.

I think it is kind of fun to see how other Christians point to Jesus throughout the world.  They have races through blessed water.  They sprinkle homes with the love and the ministry of Jesus.  They share the light with everyone until the whole community is bathed in Jesus’ light. 

This is so much more wonderful than knocking on a stranger’s cold door and asking the question, “Do you believe in Jesus as you personal Lord and Savior?” 

All of these community activities assume that Jesus is for everyone.  And, that is probably because scripture says that “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.”  God loves the world.  Jesus' love is not just for believers.  And, all of these community celebrations points to Jesus and his love.  He is our light in the darkness.  He is our cleansing water.

There is one other phrase from this gospel story that I love.  The phrase upholds the importance of gathering together to celebrate Jesus.  It is a simple phrase, but it is also profound.  It is a phrase that can guide you when you want to share the love of Christ, but do not know how.  It is a phrase that points to Christ and relies completely on him rather than our own gifts or dazzling abilities.  It is a phrase that you can say to anyone who seems to be seeking more for their lives than a world of darkness.  It is a phrase straight from the lips of Jesus, so it has got to be good.

“Come and see.”

The first people who are pointed in the direction of Christ by John the Witness are invited to “Come and see.” 

“Come and see” where Jesus dwells. 

“Come and see” who Jesus is.

“Come and see” why Jesus is so important in our lives. 

“Come and see.” 

It is an easy phrase to remember; “Come and see.”  Try it out.  There are plenty of people in this community who would benefit from coming and seeing the love of Jesus.

In all the ways that you celebrate Jesus, may it all be an invitation for people to “Come and see.”  Because, when people come, they do see.  And, as the light spreads throughout the community, the people will see Jesus, the Savior of the world.

Reflection on Matthew 3:13-17

She entered the waters of the small, waterfall fed pool knowing each thing that needed to be washed away. 

Seeing her reflection as she felt with her feet for the steps below, she saw the woman who was once staying afloat by moving from couch to couch, bed to bed, in a quick succession of relationships that all left her worse off rather than better. 

As she put her hand in the hand of the pastor, which was offered to steady her in the stream of the flowing pool, she saw upon her hand the burn marks; leftovers from past indiscretions introduced into her body.  She felt a slight urge to pull back her hand and hide, but the pastor did not seem to care about the scarred surface.  He did not seem to even notice.  After-all, today was not about the past.  Today was about the future. 

Kneeling down into the waters, feeling the line of the water move up her gown and slightly covering her shoulders, she gave the pastor a slight nod, indicating that it was time.  He smiled. 

She held her breath as the pastor shouted, “I baptize you in the name of the Father…”  The water had suddenly enveloped her head.  Soon after she had reopened her eyes and she was soon gazing across the top of the waters.

 “And of the Son,” the pastor continued, and she felt the enveloping waters surround her once again.  She had forgotten to take another breath and she felt panicked for just a moment, a very long moment, in which she was sure the pastor was about to deprive her of her God given promise of air. 

It is weird though, somehow beyond the panic she was OK with the thought of death.  She was OK with it all being over.  There was certainly a lot in her life that needed to be over.  But, it was not over.  Soon she was staring into the eyes of the pastor once again.

“And of the Holy Spirit,” he announced once more.  She was ready this time, having spit out some water and taken another deep breath.  This last time she felt comfortable under the water, like it was somehow wrapped warmly around her by the hands of God.

She was soon standing once again, looking up at the hundreds of people who were looking on from all sides.  There was a slight moment of silence while the pastor poured some oil from a pitcher and rubbed it through her hair and then placed a little on her forehead, making the sign of the cross.  The silence was quickly shattered as hundreds of people raised their voices to the heavens and sang an angelic-like song, “You have put on Christ, in him you have been baptized!  Alleluia, Alleluia!”

A woman from the church who had been her friend from the minute she walked into the church doors that first day, all disheveled and alone, wrapped a towel around her, hugged her close and whispered, “Today is the first day.”

“Today is the first day.”

First days are powerful things.  In the first moments of life you are placed into your parent’s arms, and that action sets the tone for all life: the first day. 

The first day of kindergarten, the teacher smiles, takes you by the hand, shows you to your seat with your name carefully written on a tag, and that welcome sets the tone for the rest of the school year: the first day. 

And, when the waters of baptism wash away the stains of the past and fill you with the Spirit of a new life, you are given a new future: the first day.

Before Jesus’ ministry begins, before he heals anyone from their disease, before he teaches anyone a single lesson, before he forgives anyone their trespasses, and before Jesus utters much more than a single sentence, the waters fall down his face and the Holy Spirit descends like a dove.  For Jesus too, the waters were the first day of a new way of living…of a new life and a new ministry. 

Do you know what help you move through those first days of new life?  Being named. 

On my first day on this earth, I was named “Jira.”  It was the name of my father’s boss.  Perhaps, my Dad wanted a raise.  I do not know.  But, what I do know is that in Hebrew my name means “will provide” and is associated with what God provides.  I think that my parents had high hopes for me.  In some parts of the world my name means “enlightened one.” Oooooo!  In some African nations it means “related by blood.”  Now, before you start thinking that these aggrandizing definitions have gone to my head; just be aware that in Japanese “Jira” means “Godzilla.”  So, there is that.

“Jesus” of course is the Greek version of the Hebrew name, “Joshua” which means, “God’s salvation.”  That seems fitting enough considering the rest of Jesus’ story.  However, that is not the name that Jesus is given at his baptism.  At Jesus’ baptism, at the new start, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry God shouts down a new name.  It is the name that will shape all of those healings, and is reflected in those teachings to love your neighbors and even your enemies.  It is the name that Jesus bears to the cross as he dies for the sins of the world. 

When Jesus stands up from the waters, the heavens tear open and a voice declares, “"This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." 

“The Beloved;” that is the name Jesus is given as he sets out in his ministry. 

“The Beloved,” is the name that God uses to define Jesus.  It is the name that is dried permanently onto his very being after he emerges from the waters. 

“The Beloved” is the name that Jesus bears to all he encounters throughout his ministry.  Wherever he goes Jesus loves, and Jesus is love.  Love is who Jesus is. 

It makes me think of that short, short phrase from 1 John 4:16 in the Bible.  It is one of those confirmation phrases that boys choose to memorize because it is easy to memorize.  “God is love.”  Since God is love, then Jesus’ ministry naturally will be about “love.”

The verse continues: “God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God.”  So that is cool.  Not only is Jesus all about love, but so too are all those who show love.  You too, when you were baptized, were given the name, “Beloved.”  You too had the start of your new life with God christened by love.

What would you do if today was your first day of a new life like that woman who was baptized?  What would you do if today you were given the name, “Beloved.” 

Perhaps, you would walk from those baptismal waters, wrapped in the arms of someone who loves you, and decide to be a nurse to teens who (like you) struggle through all their relationships.  That was what that baptized woman’s new life looked like as a baptized child of God.  That was her new beginning. 

What would you do if you were she?  Perhaps, you would do any number of things or go any number of places where love would lead, like a partner who knows you better than yourself. 

Of course, you do not have to be baptized again in order to live that new life.  Once is enough.  As one of Jesus’ baptized people, God gives you the chance to have that new life this day, and every day.  The name, “Beloved” has been permanently dried into your skin, a mark on your forehead that forever remembers God’s promise of forgiveness and new life every morning. 

In Christ every day is a new day.  Every morning’s splash of refreshing water on the face is a new start…a new opportunity to live as one of God’s “Beloved.”