So I Send You

The electricity had gone off in the cramped apartment in Armenia . Across a table lit only by a single candle Vigen Guroian’s friend Kevork related his sorrowful tale. It had been a sunny day in December, 1988. An earthquake of such magnitude struck Armenia that the high-rise apartment building in which Kevork and his family had lived was demolished. Kevork and his wife had already left for work, but their two children, ten-year old Armen and seven year-old Lillit were still home when the quake struck. The two children were buried in the rubble for three days. Although both were rescued, Armen died in the hospital, and Lillit was seriously injured. Still locked in his grief, Kevork shouted at Vigen, “I have argued with God day and night! But God has not answered!” Determined to speak to his friend’s hopelessness and despair, Vigen asked if Kevork had a Bible. Kevork had a Russian Bible that someone had given him, and a Russian-Armenian dictionary. Vigen got out his English Bible and Armenian-English dictionary. In the candlelight, both men began to read the 15th chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Christians at Corinth, the chapter in which Paul triumphantly proclaims the resurrection of the body. After several readings, Kevork’s face began to glow. “Vigen,” he shouted, “It says we will have bodies. I will see Armen’s face again, just as I see yours now in the candlelight!” It was promised. Vigen had courageously reached out to Kevork with the good news: Christ is risen. Death has been swallowed up in Victory! And now Kevork knew it too. Kevork too had been brought into that inexplicably joyful fellowship of eternal life in Christ.

On that Easter evening, Jesus’ friends would easily have understood Kevork’s feelings. Huddled together in a locked room, sure that the religious authorities would do to them what they had done to Jesus, they were wracked with fear and regret. Why had they followed Jesus in the first place? Why hadn’t God’s reign come, as they were so sure it would? Could the whole Jesus thing have been temporary madness? Why had they left their homes, their families, their businesses to wind up huddled together like hopeless fugitives? And then Jesus came into that room. He allayed their fears and forgave them for their weakness, regret, faithlessness, and betrayal. He showed them his resurrected body, with all its signs of what he had endured on the cross. The crucified one was now the resurrected one, and the disciples could not contain their joy! But was their joy short-lived? For, immediately the crucified and resurrected one charged them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you!” Back to the Cross? Maybe! And then he breathed on them! This is the only place in the New Testament where the verb “to breathe” occurs. Just as God breathed life into Adam, just as God called the breath from the Four Winds and brought the dry bones of the House of Israel back to life, so now did Jesus breathe new life into his friends. And immediately, immediately, as soon as the new and life-giving air entered their lungs, the disciples were on their feet to receive an Apostolic Commission. The empowerment that came with the new Spirit was for a purpose: they were to go out into the world and do what Jesus did. They were to have the courage to leave behind all their fears, their locked rooms, their locked churches. They were to go out to carry on Jesus’ work. They were to heal the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and bring new life to the despairing. They were to proclaim Jesus’ victory over sin and death. They were to release others from the hell of despair and grief. They were to bring the exiles back home to the Father. They were to gather others into the community of love and eternal life in Jesus’ name. They were to bear witness unceasingly to the love of God shown forth so gloriously in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

“As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” This, my sisters and brothers, is the heart of John’s Gospel, indeed of our entire story as Christians. We are charged to proclaim by word and deed what we know and what we have experienced ourselves of the saving acts of God in Christ. We too have the Holy Spirit given to us in baptism, and we too are charged to not remain in our locked rooms, our locked churches, waiting in fear. We too are sent into the world. The words that Jesus spoke to the disciples in John’s Gospel he also speaks to us: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you, people of St. Peter’s and Grace.” We too are to go out into the world courageously proclaiming the risen Christ and continuing his work. One way to do that is to find those areas in our world where we need to bring the risen Christ. Glen Echo Presbyterian Church in Columbus has been sending mission teams to Fort Liberte in Haiti since 2003. On February 12th, in the wake of the earthquake that had devastated Haiti a month before, they set off for another mission trip, their luggage crammed with clothing and other items needed by their Haitian friends. It was a hard week at the clinic at which they worked. First, the generator broke down, leaving them without air conditioning or lights. They needed more translators for the Sunday clinic. They had to do medical triage. Torrential rains threatened one of the clinic walls. Their transportation didn’t always show up. Eight days and over 1300 patients later, the group was ready to head for home. They had saved lives and lessened the pain and discomfort of many. They had given away food, clothing, and money. What was most important, they had visibly brought Christ’s healing presence to the people of Fort Liberte, helping them to remember, that Christians empowered by the Holy Spirit can still bring the blessings of God’s reign to those who are hurting or in despair.

Mission trips are wonderful, and nothing would please me more than to see groups go our from our parishes. But perhaps we don’t have to go to Haiti to fulfill Jesus’ commission. Mission trips, valuable as they are, are not our only vehicles for doing God’s will. For some of us, remaining faithful to our commission in this place, “blooming where we are planted,” may be just as true a way to fulfill our commission as a mission trip, even if we don’t know what the future will bring, even if we aren’t sure we will have all the resources that we will need. Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, the author of The Wisdom of Stability, tell us about his friend Mary Nelson. In 1968 she went to the West Side of Chicago to help her brother settle into his new Lutheran parish. She’d only planned to stay a summer, but the neighborhood was torn by riots, and she wanted to help the parish ease its neighbors’ pain. She is still there, and many of her hopes for the neighborhood have indeed been realized. She has served for twenty-six years as head of a ministry that she founded that provides affordable health care, help with employment, affordable housing, after-school programs for kids, and a support network for the elderly. How did all this happen, Wilson-Hartgrove asks? The answer: Mary (and many others) chose to stay and work for a better community. The desert father Anthony tells us, “In whatever place you find yourself, do not easily leave it.” Mary Nelson and many others embody this wise counsel.

My friends, we too have the privilege of embodying Abba Anthony’s counsel. Green shoots have begun to poke up through the hard, dry soil of both our parishes. At St. Peter’s we will baptize two more children next week. We have a successful diaper give-away at the Lutheran Social Services food distribution site across the street. We are about to open our site for the Ohio Benefit Bank. Our web page will soon be up and running again. We have a flourishing children’s Sunday school. At Grace we baptized the granddaughter of a family member at the Easter Vigil. The Sunday School is also up and going again, and we are hosting the Vacation Bible School this year. We have helped to breathe new life into the Pomeroy cluster of the Meigs Cooperative parish, and we had the third of our highly successful offerings of gift cards to the community. Indeed, Richelle Thompson, our diocesan communications officer, posted pictures of our Undie Saturday on her Facebook page, along with the Holy Week activities of other congregations in the diocese. The shoots have appeared. Will the shoots continue to grow? By God’s grace, they will have a chance to grow if we continue to remain stable, faithful, and committed, if we are willing to commit our resources to the life of this place. They will grow if we look to the future, not wondering if all the resources we need will indeed be there, but trusting God to work God’s will in this place, as in all places. The green shoots will grow if we can leave fear behind and let ourselves be sent out into the world. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

Kevork's story comes from “Descended into hell,” by Vigen Guroian, Christian Century, 127, 6 (March 23, 2010), 26-29). Guroian uses the story as a beginning point for his discussion of Armenian icons of Christ’s descent into hell.

Glen Echo Presbyterian’s trip is described in a series of articles in the Columbus Dispatch, beginning on Feb. 12, 2010.

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, “Searching for Community in a Hyper-Mobile Culture,” God’s Politics, a blog by Jim Wallis, April 6, 2010, http://blog.sojo.net/2010/04/06/searching-for-community-in-a-hyper-mobile-culture/ .