Benjamin B. Berner

Benjamin B. Berner
February 25, 2019
Isaiah 61:1-3
Psalm 23
2 Corinthians 4:13-17
John 6:37-40

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Jesus says, “this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”

 You are here today because you knew Benji.  Or, perhaps, because you know his family.  In his short 44 years, Benji has touched many lives, and was deeply loved. I never met Benji, but I know some of his family members.  I am grateful that you all are here today to support Benji’s family.  They will need your continued love and support for a long time to come, I know.

In the gospel reading we just heard, from John, Jesus says, “this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”  In Baptism, Benji was given to Jesus, and Jesus has promised not to lose what is his.  Benji was something of a free spirit.  And Benji was baptized.  A free spirit who was claimed as God’s own forever.

A few minutes ago, we read Psalm 23 together.  Many people find Psalm 23 to be the most comforting thing in the entire Bible.  Maybe it’s the pastoral imagery, or maybe it’s because it reminds us that God is with us in the darkest times and deepest valleys of our lives.  Which is true, and worth remembering.

But what I really love about Psalm 23 is the original language of the part that gets translated as goodness and mercy following me.  The Hebrew word that becomes “follow” is actually more like chasing, or hunting down.  God’s goodness and mercy don’t follow us home, like a stray kitten.  No, God’s goodness and mercy hunt us down, like a tiger.  We cannot escape them, even if we wanted to.  God’s goodness and mercy are on your tail, chasing you throughout your life.

But, as we go through life, we all become disillusioned about some things.  I know from firsthand experience that it is easy to find ourselves giving up on God, either because of what we experience in life, or sometimes because of what we experience in the church.  And, although we might give up on God or the church, what matters is that God does not give up on us.  God’s love is relentless and will chase us down.  And when we think we have let go of God’s hand, we find that we are still safely nestled in the palm of God’s hand, the very place we have been all along.  We do not hold onto God:  God holds us.  No matter where our lives seem to take us.

Jesus says, “this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”  Benji is safely in the hands of God, the very place he has been all along.

Amen

For Holocaust Remembrance Day

This is a verbatum from a hospital visit when I was in seminary.

C1: Well, what a surprise to see you up here!  My name is George Baum, I’m the chaplain who spoke with you the other day?

S1: Yes, of course.  We remember you.

C2: How is your husband doing now?  Did they the surgery work out okay?

S2: He is doing better.  He is strong.  He worked his whole life very hard, so he is strong.

C3: Is he having much pain?

S3: Not too much.  They took out the epidural and he seems pretty good so far.

C4: And how are you holding up?  [I see the bed]  You've been sleeping here, right?

S4: Yes.  I am doing fine. 

C5: It's nice to have the bed here.

S5: And nice to have this room!  My son, he is a surgeon, he got us this.

C6: Oh?  Where is your son a surgeon?

S6: He works here.  In the hospital.

C7: Oh, at Roosevelt?  I see.  Well that's fantastic.  And your husband is not having pain?

S7: So far, he is good.  But, I think women can -- how can I say it?  -- women can take more pain and tolerate more than men.  [Looking toward husband]  But, he is doing well.

C8: That's good.  And you say you’re okay.  It must be exhausting to be living in the hospital like this.

S8: Yes.  But, you know, men and women see things, are built differently.  I am comfortable wherever I am.  He, you know, he wants his ethnic food.  Cabbage, and herring. 

C9: Ah, probably none of that for a while, huh?

S9: No, and that will make him grumpy.  He wants what he is used to.

C10: And now it’s (I look at the tray) Jell-o instead right?

S10: Yes.  I can eat whatever.  Women . . . well, I just say, "fine, have it your way."  Most things, they are little, and I don't want to bother, since I can take more without getting upset than he can.

C11: But then do you feel like you don't get what you need?

S11: No, if I need something I make sure I get it.  (smiles)  I just mean that women can take more pain and suffering.  It is the way it has been since creation.

C12: Well, I saw my wife give birth to two children, and I know I couldn't tolerate that much pain!

S12: Yes.  That is what I mean.  Men are stronger, physically, but women are stronger in other ways.

C13: Do you have more than the one son?

S13: We also have a daughter, who lives in Staten Island.  That will be out next stop.  To see if he can tolerate living there before we go home.

C14: So you'll live with her for a while.

S14: Yes, and the doctor appointments will be easier to make it to from there.  He said he was tired all the time and felt sick.  I said he should go to a doctor to see.  But he waved me off and said no it is nothing.  Well, in October, we had a wedding in New York to go to and I said, "while we're there, maybe you could see a doctor."  So I set up the appointment.  [I was reminded how Garrison Keilor says Lutherans would only visit Hawaii if they could justify it as a business trip that they were going on anyway.]  Then they found that he was anemic and must be losing blood.  So they ordered more tests and they found he had a mass in his intestines that was bleeding all over the place.

C15: Oh my.

S15: So they decided to operate and then they did.  [She shrugs]  But I am an optimist; he is a pessimist.  I can take a lot and still see the bright side.  Not so much with him.  Do you know of Auschwitz? 

C16: [Feeling shocked]  Yes.  Of course.

S16: When I was 17, they took me there.  I have a number.  [She pulls up her sleeve and shows me.]  This is a tattoo.  [This is the first time I have seen one of these; it says A-52]  They just carve it right into your flesh like this.  [Pulls her sleeve back down]

[I say nothing]

S17: I lost my family.  Well, everyone but my father.  They didn't kill him right away.  But my mother and brothers and sister were all killed very early.

[I find this so deeply horrific that I start to cry, but continue looking directly at her, hoping she'll go on]

S18: Then they put me to work.  Are you familiar with [some company she names], the motorcycles?

[I pretend I am]

S19: Well that's where I worked.  I made motorcycles.  [She smiles, kind of ironically, I think]

C17: You never would have expected that, huh?

S20: No.  To be taken out of your life and treated like dirt, lower than dirt, unless you have been through that, you cannot possibly know.  But I worked right next to the crematorium, where they burned the bodies.  The smell of it, all day long.  The ovens.  And I was 17.

C18: [I am overwhelmed by this all.]  That is horrible!

S21: Yes.  But you do what you have to do.  I was able to just keep going because I didn't know anything else to do.

[I have nothing to say, and am still crying]

S22: But there was always resistance.  The people who worked in the dynamite factory, they would take gunpowder and sew it into the hems of their clothes.  And then when they were killed, well there were people who had to sort the clothes into piles from the bodies.  You know, shoes over here, and shirts over there.  And the ones sorting the clothes would cut open the hems and get the gunpowder.

C19: Uh huh.

S23: And they were saving it for the crematorium.  Do you know what that is?

C20: Yes.  Yes, I do.

S24: Well they were planning to blow that up as an act of you know, rebellion or whatever.

C21: With the gunpowder?

S25: Yes.  So one night.  I worked the night shift.  There was day and night so we worked all the time, and I worked at night.  Well one night they did it and blew the building up.  I heard the explosion because my factory was right next door.

C22: Oh my . . .

S26: Well then we were all very afraid.  And we didn’t go to work.  And the guards, they decided to show us a message and they took dozens of people, Jews, and lined them up to kill them.  And I heard the gunshots.  And, do you know the ???

C23: No, I’m sorry.

S27: Well, that’s the Jewish National Anthem.  And I could hear them singing it while they were being shot.

[I start crying again]
S28: And they kept singing as the others were being shot.  [Now she is crying too.]  And the singing, it went until the very end, getting quieter and quieter, until the last one was dead.

[I am so stunned I cannot speak.  We both have tears on our face, saying nothing.  She wipes her eyes and says,]

S29: So, it was just a small thing.  Some people say insignificant.

C24: No, that is one of the most important stories I have ever heard.  I am so thankful that you told me.

S30: I went to Washington and told my story.  Recorded it there at the . . . .

C25: Holocaust Memorial?

S31: Yes.

C26: Do you tell your stories to others?

S32: Well, my grandchildren, they are too young.  I don’t want to scare them.  But the one, she just turned 18.

C27: About how old you were when you were in Auschwitz.

S33: Yes.

C28: So maybe you can tell her when the time seems right?  It’s important that people can hear what it was like from someone they know and who was there.

S34: There are so few of us left.  And someday when we are gone . . . [she stops]

C29: The stories can go on because you told them to your grandchildren, and people like me.  I will tell your story, believe me.  I mean, if that’s alright with you.

S35: Of course.  But it is just one little story.  One person.

C30: And that’s why it’s important.  Because you are a person.

[She smiles.]

S36: People in Auschwitz, when we see each other, it is like an instant family.

C31: Of course it is!

S37: And we share something that other people cannot understand.

C32: No, I can never really know what you all went through.

S38: We grew up fast.  Very fast.  You had to, to survive.

[A doctor comes in and they talk about the epidural and how the patient will need to get up in a chair today.  I wonder at the irony of two women talking about a man’s epidural.  The doctor leaves.]

S39: So, we thought when the war was over, that we had seen the worst.  But it’s not true.  It is as bad now as it ever was then.  People killing in the name of religion.

C:33: Yes.  The Sudan today, but we have plenty before that too.

S40: People say Stalin killed, what 20 million of his people.  And then Cambodia. 

C34: Yes.  It seems it will never end.

S41: No.  I wonder if, after the Messiah comes, there will be peace.

C35: Well, my religion says the Messiah already came, but still there is no peace.

S42: Oh, I don’t want to talk about religion.  That will just be trouble.

[This strikes me as a very odd thing to say, given the conversation she has been having with the chaplain.]

S43: But the evil that people do.  There is no limit, it seems.

C36: No, there is not.  I wish that Hitler had been the worst possible.  But I’m afraid not.

S44: I cannot understand it.

[A physical therapist enters the room and is putting on gloves.  We both stand up.]

PT1: Hello, how’s he doing?

S45: Good.  They already took the epidural out. 

PT2: No, I am here to get him up.

S46: Oh, to put him in a chair?

PT3: No, we’re going to take a little walk.

C37: Okay, I will leave you be now.  Thank you so much for talking to me.  [I put my hand on her shoulder]

S47: Thank you for your visit.  It was kind of you to listen to me.

C38: Really, it was an honor.  I don’t come back to the hospital until next week.  You said he should get discharged on Sunday?

S48: Yes.

C39: Well, okay.  Then, hopefully I will not be seeing you anymore.

[We both smile]

C40: Thank you Mrs. G.

S49: Thank you George.

In order to avoid the assignment of excessively high numbers from the general series to the large number of Hungarian Jews arriving in 1944, the SS authorities introduced new sequences of numbers in mid-May 1944. This series, prefaced by the letter A, began with “1” and ended at “20,000.” Once the number 20,000 was reached, a new series beginning with “B” series was introduced. Some 15,000 men received “B” series tattoos. For an unknown reason, the “A” series for women did not stop at 20,000 and continued to 30,000.

Rhea S. Bossart

The Burial of Rhea Bossart
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
Revelation 7:9-17
John 6:37-40

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.
The first time I stepped into this pulpit, two and a half years ago, Rhea shouted out, “I love you!”  In some ways, that tells you everything you need to know about Rhea.

When she was well enough to come to church, Rhea always sat in the front row, with her caregiver.  She was very much like a part of the church itself, at least from this vantage point—Sunday morning, look to my left in the front row, Rhea.  Or, walk out of the 8 o’clock service into the parish hall, Bob and Rhea sitting at a table, with Rhea making some beautiful creation out of yarn.

But there’s more than that.  If you look at the church photo on the wall in the lounge, you can see Rhea nestled among the people.  And if you look back through the baptismal records, you’ll find Rhea.  And in the marriage records, you’ll find Rhea.  And now in the necrology, you’ll find Rhea.  But you will also find Rhea in our hearts and in our memories, because Rhea is everywhere, it seems.  She lived her entire life as part of this church.  Given to God in her baptism, and now given to God in death.

Jesus said, "Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and anyone who comes to me I will never drive away . . . And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”

The Rhea we knew in her earlier days might have seemed lost to us these last few years, but she was not lost to God.  No one is lost to God.  Though the Rhea we cherished slowly slipped away from us this past year, she was always known to God, always cherished by God, and always redeemed by God.

You could say that in death, Rhea has now stepped through a door to another room, to be greeted by the ultimate caregiver.  And I imagine Jesus greeting her the way she first greeted me, shouting out “I love you!”  Because that would make Rhea smile, like only Rhea can smile.

One day we will see Rhea again, and it will be a glorious reunion indeed.  And in the meantime, we hold onto that promise from Jesus:  I will lose nothing that has been given to me, but will raise them up on the last day.  Rhea is safe, in the arms of Jesus, and we will see her again.

Amen.   

Carl D. Pennington

The Burial of Carl D. Pennington
January 15, 1930-November 29, 2018
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
Revelation 21:2-7
John 6:37-40

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

You are all here because you knew and loved Carl Pennington.  Unlike nearly everyone in this room, I did not get to know Carl Pennington.  I met him, of course, but it was long past the time when he would have known who I was, or why I was there.  I can’t tell you anything about Carl that you don’t already know.

I do find it quite interesting that he enjoyed hunting for arrowheads.  And that he was a member of the Archeological Society of Ohio, which has been “Striving to Preserve Ohio's Archaeological Heritage Since 1942.”  I admit, I’d never heard of the Archeological Society of Ohio before, but I appreciate that they do strive to preserve the past for the rest of us.

In many ways, you all share their desire to preserve the past, as you remember Carl, and all that he means to you.  Over time, you had to hold on to memories for Carl, because he could not hold onto them for himself.  And together today you remember the life of the one you loved.  And just like the arrowheads that Carl hunted, you cherished Carl as you found him, diminished though he might have been from the peak years of his life.

I hope that you will continue to share stories and memories of your time with Carl on this earth in the days and years ahead.  But here is what I really want you to hold onto as you leave this place today . . .

Jesus said, "Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and anyone who comes to me I will never drive away . . . And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”

The Carl you knew in his prime might have seemed lost to you in his latter days, but he was not lost to God.  No one is lost to God.  Though the Carl you once knew was hidden from you, much like an arrowhead is hidden in the earth, Carl was always known to God, always cherished by God, and always redeemed by God.

One day you will see Carl again, and it will be a glorious reunion indeed.  And in the meantime, hold on to that promise from Jesus:  I will lose nothing that has been given to me, but will raise them up on the last day.

Amen.   

Elizabeth McLain Humes

Elizabeth McLain Humes
October 22, 2018
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
Revelation 21:2-7
John 14:1-6

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Unlike nearly everyone in this room, I did not know Betsy Humes.  I’m sure you all have lots of stories and memories to share, and I hope you have already been doing that, and will continue to do so in the months and years ahead.  And thank you to Billy for the stories he shared with us this morning.

It’s never easy to lose someone we love.  A mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother.  Someone who has been there our entire lives is no longer with us.  No longer seen or heard from.  And the emptiness can be overwhelming.  Someone who was in our lives forever is no longer here, which makes everything seem fleeting.  But that is not true.  Not for God, and not for those who live their lives as part of the Church of God on earth.  Because there is continuity in the changelessness of God.

I know that Elizabeth and William were married at this very Altar by the Rector who was here four priests before I arrived.  I’ve seen the pictures!  That’s a long time ago, and much has happened in our lives and in the world since that time.   So long ago, in fact, that no one batted an eye as Bill lit up a cigarette on the front steps out there.  From our perspective, that wedding was ages ago.  But from God’s perspective, it just happened, and the reception is still going full swing.  And the difference between our sense of time and God’s perspective can really help sometimes.

And here is what I mean by that:  There are things that we are waiting for which are already accomplished for God.  As we heard from the prophet Isaiah, “God will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever.”  And as we heard from the Revelation to St. John, "It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.”  And because Jesus is the beginning and the end, everything that happens to us happens within the arms of Jesus.

You and I are still waiting for the day when God will wipe away every tear from our eyes and will swallow up death forever.  But for Betsy, that day has already come.  She is safely within the arms of God, which is where she has always been.  Because in Betsy’s baptism, she was claimed as God’s own forever.  And nothing can ever take that away from her.  Betsy is with God, and God is with you.  And one day, you will be together again.

Amen.

The Marriage of Amanda and Brandon

A Marriage of Smiths
September 1, 2018
Ephesians 5:1-2, 22-33
Colossians 3:12-17
John 15:9-12

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

So, I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  Usually, when I give couples the options to choose for the readings at their wedding, I intentionally leave out that reading from Ephesians.  You know, the one we heard a few minutes ago, with that stuff about wives be subject to your husbands and all that?  And the reason I leave it out of the list is because we are apt to misinterpret Paul’s words, unless we also have a two-hour sermon so the preacher can unpack it for us.  Since Amanda and Brandon have chosen that as one of the readings, settle in for some preaching, everybody!

I’m kidding, of course.  I’m just not going to talk about that reading today.  There isn’t time.  But the reason I can ignore that text is because these two have also chosen an excellent text from John’s gospel, where Jesus talks about his commandment to us.  Normally when we hear the word commandment, we assume there’s going to be some complicated lesson telling us how to behave, or what to eat, or what to believe.  And we probably all carry in our minds the expectation that a commandment is followed by a threat of punishment.  So, okay, Jesus is going to give us a commandment.  What is this thing that Jesus wants us to do, on top of all the other things we’ve already been told we’re supposed to do?  We’re ready Jesus:  give us the bad news . . .

And Jesus says, "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”  Seriously?  That’s it?  Nothing about shellfish or coveting or gluttony?  Nothing about adultery in our hearts and killing with evil thoughts?  Just . . . love one another?  Oh, wait.  Love one another as you have loved us.  You knew there had to be a catch, right?  We’ve got to see what it means to love like Jesus loves.  So, let’s consider the question:  How does Jesus love us?

Ah.  And this gets us right back to why we are gathered here today, and maybe why Amanda and Brandon chose this verse for today’s reading.  Jesus loves us unconditionally.  Whether we are rich or poor.  In sickness and in health.  For better or for worse, you cannot make Jesus stop loving you.  You’re stuck with him, whether you like it or not.  Jesus will always love you.

And that’s what makes this such a perfect thing to hear on such a happy occasion.  Jesus calls us to love one another as he has loved us.  It obviously applies to the couple getting married.  But it applies to all of us as well.  You want to know the best wedding gift you could give these two?  The best gift is for you to love them.  Unconditionally.  Support them in their love for one another.  Forgive them, encourage them, walk with them, and love them.  And together, let us wish them many, many happy years together.

Amen.

Do Not Mess With the Woman's Auxiliary!

So, the electric company had to replace three transformers on the pole outside our church this morning.  I was sitting in the dark, reading a 1943 edition of our Diocesan magazine, “Church Life,” like you do.  And I ran across this  letter written to a movie reviewer at the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

June 1943

Church Women Protest Cleveland

Plain Dealer Writer’s Views on

Japanese Children’s Christmas Gifts

Dear Mr. Marsh:

On behalf of, the Executive Board of the Woman’s Auxiliary of the Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Ohio, I am writing to protest a reference in your recent “Moon Is Down” review in which you spoke contemptuously of people who send toys to Japanese children, as you heard “was done in one place.”

The one place this was done, Mr. Marsh, was the whole United States of America. And while we are a free nation it is the sort of thing that will always be done.

We have no wish to enter into any controversy with you on the subject of hate, though we believe plenty of proof could be brought to the argument for the other side.  As, for instance, the British have stopped the teaching of hate to commandos. We consider it spiritual immaturity to confuse hate of a loathsome disease with hate of those who have it. We recognize the need to exterminate the rabidly infected Nazi-Fascist, Black-Dragon ridden militarists, but we do not consider it necessary to hate each individual of the nationalities most affected.

We are not pacifists nor isolationists, Mr. Marsh, nor soft sentimentalists.  Many of us hated this Thing long before you, apparently, were aware of its menace to us-—in your own words you were a most ardent peace lover “before Germany marched into Poland and . . . . the Japs blasted Pearl Harbor.”  Do you think these were the cause of the war?

Many of us have hated this Thing since it started the downfall of Germany around 1928; through the invasions of Manchuria and Ethiopia, the rehearsal in Spain and war in China; through Munich and murder of Czechoslovakia, our hatred increased until we would go ourselves to fight the ugliness on any battlefront, if such action would help. We hate this cancerous disease wherever it is found--and it can be found even in Cleveland.

It is found, Mr. Marsh, in blind prejudice against children who happen to be born to a race with whose homeland we are at war.

1f you are well informed, you will know that most of the Japanese who were sent to relocation centers are loyal to the United States. Very many were born here and are citizens who surrendered their constitutional rights to protect their country from possible subversive activity by the enemy alien minority they knew existed among them. They gave up homes and means of livelihood and freedom itself to help beat Japan. Many are in the U. S. Army. The F. B. I. has now had time to double check on them and you can if you take the trouble, learn more about them from the War Relocation Authority office here in Cleveland.

The Relocation Centers are not beds of roses, Mr. Marsh. You wouldn’t like having to take your family and live in these barren quarters behind barbed wire and under guard. For the high percentage of professional people especially, life has become a pretty bleak affair. Christmas was coming, and there was nothing to brighten the season for thousands of restless children who had faith in Santa Claus and American Christmases.

The Women’s Department of the Home Missions Council recognized the desperate need of keeping this faith alive, and appealed to women of all Protestant churches all over the United States.  Catholic and Jewish women may have done the same sort of thing. The response was what Hollywood might term colossal. We had feared that the prejudice you reflected might prevent the success of the project. But toys and money poured in, and that Christmas in camp was proof to people in a cage that America is still a healthy-hearted nation. It was a little thing, but it came from countless people who had the vision of the real spirit of Christmas.

Anyway, Mr. Marsh, you may call this soft and pantywaist if you will. It is cheap and easy to lump all these people together and condemn them. The Christian way is harder and takes more courage--but it is the only way to free the future from the appalling effects of a moral sickness whose byproducts are hate and war and eternal tragedy.

We are proud of having had a small part in one action to rebuild hope and faith and love.

With best wishes, believe me

Sincerely yours,

JOSEPHINE V. COWIN,

National Executive Board

Woman’s Auxiliary, Protestant Episcopal

Church in U. S. A.

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