2022 Sunday Messages

“He is risen!” “He is risen indeed!”

Those words take on new meaning for me during this second Easter of Covid. At HarborPointe, we have remained extremely cautious about gatherings. But the time is coming, hopefully sooner than later, when we will be able to say: “We are risen! We are risen, indeed!” As vaccines become more widely available, our make-shift worship gatherings may once again be “HarborPointe normal.”

My childhood reverberates with a gospel of sin and grace, failure and forgiveness. Taken in the proper context, it is the good part of Good Friday. “Father forgive them for they know not what they do” is a message for me as much as for the unwitting Roman soldiers. It’s not father or mother, sister or brother,  sinner or preacher, deacon or teacher, but rather “It’s me standing in the need of prayer.” In some miraculous way humility coupled with faith recreates us in God’s image.

A few months ago, Ann and I made a pilgrimage to Holly Lawn Cemetery in Suffolk, the final resting place for many family members including my mom and dad. On the way we stopped to see Aunt Lois who for the past 50 years has lived on Brewer Avenue, a street I knew so well as a child because it was also home to my grandparents oh so long ago.

Memories flooded back of childhood adventures, deeply ingrained and so very rich. I told Ann about cousin Chay, born in 1950 just like me, a good friend and congenial competitor from birth through high school. Four or five times a year my Northern Virginia family would head south to reunite with our Suffolk kin. When this happened, Chay and I were inseparable. While the adults talked and told stories, the same-aged cousins played board games, ran races, fought imaginary enemies, laughed, joked and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. Among other things I learned along with Chay never to fire your pea shooter at the local bully riding his bike down the street, even if you do it from your grandparent’s front porch. And even more important, never fire your pea shooter at a wasp’s nest no matter what.

But like Little Jackie Paper, both Chay and I grew up and no longer entertained imaginary dragons or fought for pirate gold. Upon graduation from high school, treasured childhood toys and dreams were lost and forgotten. We pretty much went our separate ways, seeing less and less of each other as we no longer shared common ground. The last time I saw him, Chay and I were 20-years-old. His IQ was off the charts… creative, curious, hard-working, like-able, but we took different paths.

We parted company and lost track. Years turned into decades, until out of the blue I heard from Chay’s cousin, Ford. Their mom, my Aunt Winnie had died. My condolences immediately went out to Ford, but my memories remained most closely attached to Chay.

That was when the Holy Spirit began to speak to me through my wife, again.

“You ought to call Chay.”

“I don’t know how to get in touch.”

“I’ll look him up on Facebook.”

“I doubt if he is interested. We haven’t spoken in 50 years. He may feel like I am intruding…”

But she was persistent, and I felt obligated. So, a couple of weeks ago, I ginned up the courage to make this long overdue phone call… And I can’t begin to tell you how glad I was as the Chay and Tom of early childhood seemed to reemerge. The things that separated seemed to dissolve sentence by sentence and story by story.

We concluded with a promise to stay in touch and meet together in person after vaccines make that safe. I know that “all good things come to those who wait.” But it is also true that “there is no time like the present” especially when you have an opportunity to become friends once again with an almost forgotten cousin.

People my age sometimes enter a second childhood…complete with sports cars, leisure suits and gold medallions. Faces are lifted and bald spots swooped-over in a futile war on time. My mother used to say “There is no fool like an old fool” with lots of examples to choose from.

Despite consensus medical and scientific assertions, many people continue to question whether they ought to or should get vaccinated. Some have health issues that may put them at risk. Others are driven by personal philosophies or political persuasion or just plain fear. Who wants something alien, unnecessary, and with possible side-effects injected into your body?

A family Christmas tradition invites each member to acknowledge a gift we would like to give Jesus before opening our presents. These sharing times are always fun-filled with Andrews’ sanctioned joking and joshing… But everyone became serious and reflective when seven-year-old Ben volunteered his gift: “I would like to give Jesus my heart…” Indeed, as Jesus once said listening to “children and infants” may be the best place to begin our journey into the kingdom of God…a place adults too oft’ forsake in favor of the kingdom of this world.

Even though it is time to observe the Lenten season, many of us are in no mood for giving up anything more than COVID has already required. The loss of 500,000 Americans, several whom I know personally, is staggering and a somber reminder that life is fragile. The masks, social distancing, limited gatherings, and constrained travel are continual minor sacrifices (spiritual disciplines?) for what we understand is the greater social good. Should we even skip formal Lenten practices this year and call COVID enough?