A snowy, story sermon from the fictional town of Mattaponi Courthouse, Virginia for a snowy, Sunday morning:
This was a pretty rough week in Mattaponi. Leander Lovett, the town street sweeper was out trying to clear the sidewalk when a big VDOT snowplow came along and buried him and his freshly cleaned sidewalk under two feet of snow. Leander's not a real excitable fellow, but this really got to him. He had worked hard on that sidewalk, so he started running after the VDOT truck right down the middle of Main Street. People stopped and stared.
Yolanda Perkins was in town scrounging for necessities and when she saw Leander running down the street waving his shovel at the big orange VDOT truck she was so shocked she dropped a box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and a six-pack of Diet Coke she was carrying.
Leander never caught the truck but he gave it a piece of his mind and he livened up the atmosphere in Mattaponi. Leander hadn't caused this much of a stir since last year's St. Patrick's Day parade when he leapt in front of a little orange Shriner's car to save a Dalmatian that fell off a fire truck. But that's another story. What we're talking about is snow. And there was plenty of it in Mattaponi, too.
In fact this was the most snow in Mattaponi since the blizzard of 1888. That was the greatest snowstorm of all time. It shut down the major cities on the East Coast like Washington and New York with drifts that were 5 and 6 feet deep. Over 200 sailors lost their lives, some of them just out on the Chesapeake Bay. They called it the White Hurricane. Incredible winds - over 45 miles an hour. And over 400 people died. Those kind of storms you don't forget.
It got me to thinking and I went back to find an old diary that I've got from a Methodist circuit riding preacher who lived back in those days. He was an interesting guy. Very dedicated to the Lord and a very powerful preacher. He used to hold camp meetings down on the Po River near Mattaponi that would last for two weeks or more and people would come from as far away as Richmond to hear him. Just a dynamic preacher. And he was the one who got a small group of folks meeting together regularly for spiritual enrichment in Mattaponi and they later became the Mattaponi Methodist Episcopal Church, South, which today is the Mattaponi United Methodist Church.
His name was Moshe Rubenstein. Now I grant you that that's not a very common name for a Methodist preacher. But Moshe didn't grow up in a Methodist home. He was a Jew who owned a tailor's shop in New York City, but one day a customer invited him over to a Methodist church on the Lower East Side. He was overwhelmed by it all, had an incredible encounter with Christ and that day answered the altar call and became a Methodist.
Later he moved his tailor shop to Washington. And then he decided that the call to preaching was too great and he gave it all up to become a circuit-riding preacher.
Circuit-riding was different in those days than it is now. Ministers still had six or seven churches over a widespread area and the preacher would often have to travel every week, spending the night with church families on the road and leading services in each church at best once a month. But hard as it was it was the life Moshe knew he was called to live. He had no family and so he thought of himself as one of Jesus' original disciples, wandering from place to place with no possessions and nothing to encumber him or to keep him from God .... except the people he served.
I just want to read you some of the passages he wrote during the period of the blizzard of 1888. It was a surprising blizzard because it came in March after one of the warmest winters in twenty years. And it caught Rev. Moshe Rubenstein at one of the low points in his ministry. He was very discouraged by his flocks - particularly the one in Mattaponi - and he was beginning to feel a bit like Paul - travelling from place to place putting out fires as people squabbled and fought and struggled with one another.
This is the entry from March 10, two days before the storm hit:
I am spending the night with the Strawbottom family in Fredericksburg. God is faithful. God is good. As I left Arlington two days ago I could see the new monument to Washington rising above the Potomac. They say it will be dedicated soon. How I wish we Methodists could erect something monumental and lasting through our work in Virginia.
Tomorrow I head for Mattaponi. Oh, how I dread going there! I am scheduled to stay with Hans and Gretchen Gurlock and the two hellions they call sons. Last time I was with them the younger boy spread apple butter all over my favorite Wesley hymn, 'And Are We Yet Alive', in my pocket hymnal so that I have to sing it from memory now. The older boy couldn't quit talking about his new muzzle loader and the father kept wanting me to go slaughter the hogs with him. Lord, grant me patience. Mercifully I only have to stay with this brood for one night!
And this gathering of Christ's church in Mattaponi - it is far from perfect. Each person claims to be graced with the spiritual gifts God gives in Christ - and they are. But they argue incessantly over who is the greater leader. Brother Mossbacher is convinced that he has the gift of prophecy, but none of the others will let him speak because they accuse him of gossiping. Sister Victoria Tarback is a skilled healer, but she is shy and feels threatened by the noisy gongs and clashing cymbals of the congregation. What shall I do with my sheep?
Resolved: As a spiritual exercise this week I will end each entry with a note of thankfulness for the people God has sent me throughout the day, for Christ has told us that we shall meet him each day in the faces of our suffering brothers and sisters. And did not the Apostle Paul begin and end each letter that he wrote with words of thankfulness for the people in that congregation - even though he, too, was often cross and perturbed with them? Very well, Lord, this night I give thanks for Elijah, Elizabeth and Mephibosheth Strawbottom who have opened their home to me and who have welcomed me as Christ's own servant. God is faithful. God is good.
Sunday, March 11 - A few flakes of snow have begun to fall as I write this entry by the dwindling embers of the fire. A sudden chill has entered the air and the Gurlock children are excited by the possibility of sledding in the morrow's sun. Gretchen is finally putting the older child to bed and Hans is still talking to me as I write this. I told him that I must spend some time in reflection and journaling as the noble John Wesley did. I made a grand gesture of pulling this book from my saddlebag and stationing myself at the family table. But he is still talking to me about slaughtering the hogs if the weather stays chilled on the morrow. Lord, forgive me for ignoring him.
Today I preached twice for the saints of Mattaponi. Each time I spoke on the meaning of community. In the evening meeting I used Paul's text from 1 Corinthians 1:9 in which he reminds the divided Corinthian church that God has called them into a koinonia - a close relationship, a community, formed by God's son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. I discussed with them how sharing in this way meant bearing one another's burdens and mutually respecting one another's gifts. As soon as the meeting was over Jeremiah Colliflower loudly accused Brother Mossbacher of slighting him. A dispute broke out over the amount of money reported in the evening offering. And Sister Tarback broke down in tears which everyone ignored.
My spirit is deeply grieved for this church. I despair of binding them together. I search my soul to see if any hint of powerful preaching may be found there. Nevertheless I am grateful. It is what I am called to do. And so I close this entry with my prayers of thankfulness for the evening. Lord, thank you for your people in Mattaponi who I am called to shepherd. Thank you for Sister Victoria's gentleness, for Sister Hannah's devotion to serving the community, and for Brother Jeremiah Colliflower's [several things are written here and then scratched out] for Brother Colliflower's existence. Thank you for this family which has offered me shelter on this cold and blustery night. Thank you for young Frederick and Gunther who are teaching me patience. Thank you for Gretchen who is teaching me hospitality. And thank you for Brother Hans who is at this instant teaching me about something called chitterlings. (My mother is rolling over in her grave). God is faithful. God is good.
Monday, March 12 - A violent wind is howling outside the Gurlock home where I am staying for a second night. The snow outside is waist-deep now with some drifts approaching the roof of the outbuilding in the rear of the home. Though I had hoped to be in another place tonight (I had REALLY hoped to be in another place tonight) I am forced by the snow to endure…er…enjoy the hospitality of my brothers and sister for another night. Brother Wesley said to never stay in one place any longer than is absolutely necessary. Now I understand why - he knew about the Gurlocks.
But I am giving thanks once again. In our time together I was able to hear from Sister Gretchen about the troubles and illnesses in the families of our Methodists here. In the evening we shared in a fine meal together and by the fire after dinner we had a joyous time of worship and Bible study which was not dampened either by the weather or by Brother Hans' snoring. I only wish more of the koinonia had been able to share in it.
Hans is once again talking to me as I write this note. He seems very distraught about not being able to slaughter the hogs due to the snow. But I persist in my efforts to give thanks in all things and so I close my entry today with thankfulness for this family which has surrounded me with warmth. God is faithful. God is good.
Tuesday, March 13 - Good Lord, deliver me from Mattaponi! The snow has now blocked the door entirely. The wind continues to scream through the windows. To go outside would be to invite certain death and yet I feel I am ready to take that risk rather than spend one more hour in this chamber of horrors!
Never have I felt so trapped and alone! Young Frederick sings 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' incessantly while playing with an infernal train that boasts a clanging bell. He pretends that it is one of the new electric trolley cars which have only recently come to Richmond and he continually rolls it noisily across the wooden floor as if he were rolling down Church Hill to the Capitol yelling, "Look out Governor, here I come!" Gunther practices his fiddle in the corner with a skill that reminds one of a cat in heat. Gretchen has a pot boiling over on the stove and Hans sits at the kitchen table sharpening his 'pig-sticking' knife while muttering darkly about sausages and pickled pig's feet.
What is it that makes it so hard for me to accept the people that God has given me to lead? How can a congregation of saints be built from raw material such as this? What will hold us together in the koinonia community that the Apostle speaks of?
I look out the window tonight at the cold sky, still obscured by the clouds of snow as I continue the discipline of thankfulness. Thank you, God. Thank you even for the Gurlocks. God is faithful. God is good.
Wednesday, March 14 - Tonight I look up at stars as the snow has finally stopped. We cleared a path from the front door today and for the first time in several days saw a glimmer of sunlight strike the pristine landscape. What had been a muddy, cluttered yard is now blanketed by God's own covering. And everything looks new.
And so does my heart. For today we were visited by Sister Victoria who came through the drifts to see me. She shared with me the cause for her tears on Sunday last. She spoke of her pain at the church's divisions and struggles. But it was her gift of healing that I needed.
As she spoke she said, "I know that I need not despair. For we are not called to build the Church by relying on our own strengths and merits. It is Christ who calls us. It is Christ who strengthens us. It is Christ who will make us blameless on the day of his coming. God is faithful. God has made us one with Christ."
What a profound insight she has. In my black depression I had lost sight of the grace God gives to redeem us even when we fail to be what God wants us to be. It is a grace that comes through Jesus Christ who comes to make all things new. We are earthen vessels, destined to break and decay - but God has chosen us to bear this treasure. And we, sinful as we are, have been chosen to share with Christ in a koinonia - a sharing in his death so that we may share in his life.
I will not save this congregation in Mattaponi. I cannot do it. I cannot even save myself from the burdens of three days in the Gurlock household. But God is faithful. God will save through Christ. And God can make a house for himself even among the Methodists of Mattaponi, for they are Christ's own people.
And so tonight I give thanks to God once more. I give thanks to God for Sister Victoria who has the spiritual gift of healing. I give thanks to God for the Gurlocks and even for Hans who is telling me at this instant that he has cleared a path to the pigpen. And I give thanks to God for the grace that he has shown to me, for the strength he has given me, and for the power he has granted me to change. God is faithful. God is good.
Yes, it was a heck of a storm, that Blizzard of '88. And for Moshe Rubenstein it was a spiritual experience. It's truly amazing how your world can fall apart and be put back together again in the midst of cabin fever. But that's Christ's work - if you believe in that kind of thing. Which I do. Thanks be to God. God is faithful. God is good.
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
Paul, called as an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Sosthenes, the brother, to the Church of God which is in Corinth, to those made holy in Christ Jesus, to those called saints, together with all of those in every place who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both theirs and ours, grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
I give thanks to my God for you always because of the grace of God given to you in Jesus Christ, because in every way you have been enriched in him, with every word and all knowledge, just as the witness of Christ has been made fast within you, so that you do not want for any charism as you anticipate the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will strengthen you to the fulfillment, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.
God is faithful -- God, through whom you have been called into the close relationship of his son Jesus Christ, our Lord.
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