North Shore Congregational Church April 6, 2008
The Rev. Karl D. Schimpf Third Sunday of Easter
"One of the Greatest Discoveries of Life!"
Old Testament Lesson: Psalm 116:7-9; 12-14
New Testament Lesson: Luke 24:13-16; 30-32
"For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them…"
I want to begin by having us all think about times when we have felt absolutely alone, on our own, cut off from any support or encouragement or love. I’d like to ask the Bull Pen if they are able to share any such memory with us. I won’t ask you to do what I am unwilling to do myself. One thought that comes to me from when I was very young; my parents took me to Coney Island. My dad loved amusement park rides. If he was still living we would have been to Great America, more than once! My parents left me sitting near the entrance to a ride called The Steeplechase. The line was long and took quite some time. I became restless and began to wander around looking for them until I had managed to get myself lost. In great anguish, feeling entirely alone, I sought the assistance of a policeman having convinced myself that they were not returning.
This Easter afternoon revelation of Jesus is known as the Walk to Emmaus. In the Salt Lake City Church, where I was senior pastor, there’s a tiffany window portraying this event which was carefully carried by Conestoga wagon across this country and down into to Valley of the Great Salt Lake. This portion of scripture records one of the most fascinating events in the whole Bible; one of the most dramatic post-resurrection appearances of Jesus. This immortal short story concerns two people walking toward Emmaus when they are joined by One who has the power to turn their sunsets toward the rising of the sun. The two people might have been a man and a woman. A masculine noun is used in Greek but the word could refer to a couple. If in fact they shared a home, some speculate that this was Cleopas, the husband of one of the Mary’s in John’s Gospel. Who knows? What we do know is that a third person joined them, who turns out to be the risen Christ, the one who has the power to transform their sorrow and disappointment into hope and joy. Jesus joined them on the way as they shared with him their wistful, bewildered regrets. Clearly, these were two people whose hopes had been buried with Jesus. The baggage of their doubt was impeding the fervor of their faith so that they did not recognize him. Proverbs 13:2 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and they must have known what that kind of spiritual heartburn feels like, for the entire structure of their world had collapsed when Jesus died.
Suddenly, this stranger, who had appeared so clueless, launched into a Bible study as they walk along and before they knew it, they have arrived at their home. The location of Emmaus is unknown in our day. Luke places it about seven miles from Jerusalem and there are several possibilities for its location. But having arrived there, this Stranger endeavored to keep walking, so they invited him to have dinner and stay for the night. Before they know it, this One who was their honored guest had moved to the role of host as he reached for the bread, lifted it in a strikingly familiar fashion and as he gave thanks; broke the bread, and passed it to them. In the intimacy of their table fellowship, they suddenly became aware of who this really was; and just as they were ready to cry out "Jesus;" He was gone! But they had made one of the greatest discoveries of life; they had discovered that they were not alone. Jesus was with them. Whipsawed from despair, to learning Scripture, to recognition that Jesus was alive, to his sudden disappearance, their experience is only partially explained by the words "Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?"
I was the first Schimpf to go to college; and when I went to the campus, my mother and dad helped move me into my room. Except for the clothes I was wearing, every other piece of clothing was brand new, had never been worn. We were there a day early because for my dad you were on time when you were early. I waved goodbye as they drove off campus, and my father told me that my mother cried all the way from Elkins, West Virginia to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I went back to my room and sat in the chair at my desk imagining what it would be like when I got the books and put them on the shelf over my desk. I think that might have been the only day my desk looked tidy! Almost immediately, there was a knock at the door and a voice shouting, "Mr. Schimpf?" Every male student was required to take two years of Air Force ROTC training. When I opened the door and identified myself to an upper classman, he quickly produced an oversize garbage bag filled with shoes which he dumped in the middle of my room informing me that these would be spit shined and lined up against the wall in the hallway by 0600 hours the next day. Believe me, I didn’t have time to worry about my parents leaving or to savor the fact that I was on my own; but I did have a sense of not being alone.
Later in my pilgrimage God would have me renew an acquaintance with a nurse who had lived on the same street and who was a classmate with me at Christy Park School when I was in first grade. We would refer to each other in our love letters as "three in one" which was our code for acknowledging that when we were together we had a sense of God being with us. Becoming engaged to Dottie meant that I was no longer alone, that God had joined us on the Emmaus Road of our lives and was there to guide and direct us as our future unfolded.
It seems to me that what this portion of Scripture is trying to say to us is that we are not alone, that in a variety of ways Jesus seeks to meet us on the way and offer us help in any time of need. I agree with Fredrick Buechner when he says that "all of us travel to Emmaus eventually." Maybe God meets us as we trudge alone wondering why certain things have happened to us. Perhaps we meet him once we get to wherever we imagine we are going. Possibly we catch of glimpse of him in the kindness of a stranger or in the friends that God sends our way in a time of need or a note of encouragement that we receive in the mail or the multitude of other ways in which the hand of our Living God brakes through the barriers we erect to convict us and assure us of God’s presence with us.
At the All Board Meeting on Tuesday evening, a member of this new class of Stephen Ministers drew all of us closer to God as she shared the Emmaus Road she and her husband and family have experienced. She did it with such faith that it touched all of our hearts and was too good to not have her share with this congregation. I would like Marina Rosenberg to come to this pulpit and share her experiences with us this day.
Good morning. My name is Marina Rosenberg, and I will be commissioned as a Stephen Minister today. Though I am a Stephen Minister, I want to tell you about my experience a year ago as a care receiver in crisis. Fifteen months ago our daughter, Lauren, who was then a senior in high school, was diagnosed with cancer. It was an extraordinarily rare kind of cancer which had never been seen at Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin or at Froedtert. We traveled to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas to see the physician who has treated the most of this type of cancer and, thankfully, were able to come home for her recommended treatment which included chemotherapy and radiation. To make matters worse, it was about this time that my father-in-law’s health began to fail. Without question, we were a family in crisis. As these events unfolded, our family, my husband John, Lauren, and our son David, and I were embraced by this congregation and surrounded by your love and prayers. Let me thank you formally for that care. But one of our Stephen Ministry leaders went one step further and asked me if I would like a Stephen Minister to walk with me through this painful time. I agreed.
I began a series of regular meetings in March with my Stephen Minister. We would meet for breakfast or coffee and occasionally take walks together when the weather would allow. My initial hesitancy was quickly replaced with ease and trust. She listened to me as I poured out the details of our situation, my heartbreak, and my endless list of fears. I was never judged, but instead I received validation for those feelings and emotions. She was compassionate, trustworthy, and Christ-centered. The Stephen Ministry program had given her the specific skills to listen to me and to be an empathetic cheerleader.
It was not a smooth ride. As Lauren’s treatment neared completion and John’s father’s health worsened, I began having a myriad of physical difficulties. I was having trouble sleeping; I lost significant weight, I had paralyzing headaches and heart palpitations. My husband patiently reassured me as I went from doctor to doctor, but secretly he probably thought I was losing my mind. Finally, in May, I was diagnosed with post traumatic stress syndrome. I was told by the clinical psychologist at Children’s Hospital that I was right on schedule and that following a child’s cancer treatment, parents often crumble. I was a mess.
The flood of emotions that my Stephen Minister listened to ranged from anxiety to bewilderment to inadequacy. How could all this be happening to me, to us? I remember thinking that God must not be proud of me right now because I can’t handle all of this. Stephen Ministers are not counselors; they do not give advice. But my Stephen Minister helped me to realize that I was in need of professional help. She reminded me that I was loved completely and endlessly by God. She gave me two wonderful books - Kitchen Table Wisdom and Embracing Uncertainty, both of which I recommend. She would send me emails with Bible verses, she would telephone to say a quick hello, and she prayed for me continuously. I’ll never forget the day I told her I hoped to make an appointment to see a psychologist that had been recommended to me. Her only specific advice was, "please let me know when your appointment with the doctor is scheduled." Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. Through the summer, I began my recovery.
I am better, much better, but I will never be all better. I do not believe that healing is not getting "back to normal." Rather, healing is the ability to weave what has happened into your life and to move on in a constructive way. Healing is acknowledging God’s plan for us and knowing that he has undying sympathy and love for us. I have learned that the support and love of a Stephen Minister is an amazing gift. No one should go through a crisis alone. No one should worry alone. This is the heart of the Stephen Ministry program.
Let me tell you a bit more about Lauren. She is well and happy as a Bioengineering major at Rice University in Houston. Yes, Houston. The preface to the story is that a week before she was even diagnosed with cancer she was accepted to Rice. Rice is right across the street from MD Anderson in Houston, which is where the physician who has treated the most of her type of cancer is located. Is this coincidence? Not a chance. This is God’s grace. Lauren continues to have rigorous follow up care at MD Anderson and she will spend the summer working on T cell Lymphoma research at MD Anderson. Her healing includes new empathy for cancer survivors and a desire to get in the lab and make a difference.
North Shore Church has the incredible blessing of 14 Stephen Ministers and five Stephen Leaders. They are well prepared to bring God’s love into the lives of those in need.
Matthew 11:28-30 speak to this. Jesus said: "Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Please acknowledge all of your Stephen Ministers; thank them, pray for them, and remember the gift of caring that a Stephen Minister can offer you or someone you know. Thank you!
Can you imagine the courage that took for me to share with us this day? As a tribute to the confidentiality of this program; I don’t even know who her Stephen Minister was!
