Matthew 13:53-14:21
“LETTING GO OF
LONELINESS”
This morning, the second Sunday of
Lent, we continue our journey with Jesus and his disciples toward Jerusalem. Our theme, “The Stages of Life,
Death and Resurrection,” last week explored “Our Struggle with Stress,” and
today we will focus on “Letting Go of Loneliness.”
A generation ago, the English
poet W. H. Auden was sitting at a table in a 52nd Street restaurant
on the east side of New York City.
Looking around, he watched the men
and women who had gathered there and saw evidence of boredom, frustration and
fear. Auden turned over the menu, and
this is what he wrote:
Faces along the bar cling to their average day;
The lights must never go out, the
music must always play…
Lest we should see where we are, lost in a haunted wood;
Children afraid of the night, who
have never been happy or good
I believe that what Auden witnessed
in that New York City restaurant is called loneliness.
And it was John Lennon, living in Manhattan, who wrote a song about it with this
unforgettable line: “All the lonely
people, where do they all come from?”
Well not just from New York.
They, we come from Chicago, Los Angeles and London, from Modesto, Manteca, and Modesto, and from right here in San Jose.
They, we are young and old, male and
female, rich and poor, gay and straight, single, married, widowed and divorced
from every race, color and creed. They,
we, are lonely people, and some of them are here today.
Dr. Wade Huie, a retired
professor from Columbia Theological Seminary, helps us recognize them. He says:
“Loneliness is a six year old
who doesn’t know the name of any other first graders…Loneliness is a mother
whose children are away at school…
“Loneliness is an executive who lost
his closest friends on the way up the corporate ladder…Loneliness is lying in a
hospital bed, looking up at the ceiling and asking ‘How long? How long?’…Loneliness is saying ‘No’ when all
the other girls are saying ‘Yes’…
“Loneliness is a photograph on the living
room piano, worn thin with the ritual of remembering…Loneliness is realizing
that, in some ways, you can never go home again.”
Loneliness is rampant in our world
today. But we need to know that God
doesn’t want us to be lonely.
In the 13th and 14th
chapters of the gospel of Matthew, there are three snapshots from the album of
Jesus’ life and ministry which deal with the reality of loneliness. The first
photograph could be labeled “Find someone you can trust.”
Matthew reports that when Jesus
returned to His own country, to Nazareth which was really his hometown –
where he grew up -- that he taught in
the synagogue and the people were astonished, because he was so wise and had
done such amazing works.
They
couldn’t believe it because he was just the carpenter’s son and his brothers
and sisters were just ordinary.
“Where did this man learn so much?”
they asked.
Matthew goes on to say that They
took offense at Him (verse 57), and if you read the rest of the story from
the 4th chapter of Luke, you will find that those people tried to
wipe him out.
Why?
Because He challenged them to change their narrow-minded ways and they
didn’t like it.
It was Robert Frost who once
said, “Home is where, when you go there, they have to take you in.” And for the most part, that is true. But what can we do when even in our own
families and communities, we feel isolated and lonely?
In your family and mine, there are
sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, in-laws and out-laws who don’t always
feel that they are accepted or that they belong.
There’s a story about a young woman,
sitting on the porch one summer evening, talking about a member of the family
with her grandmother.
In the course of conversation she
said, “He’s just no good. He’s
completely unreliable and he’s one of the laziest people I know.”
“Yes” said the grandmother as
she rocked back and forth in her rocking chair, “He’s gone off into the far
country. But Jesus loves him.”
“Well, I’m not so sure of that” the
young woman persisted.
“Oh yes,” the grandmother assured
her. “Jesus loves him.” She rocked for a moment more and then added,
“But of course, Jesus doesn’t know him like we do.”
The truth is, Jesus knows all of us
exactly as we are, and He loves us with a love that will never let us go.
What we as lonely people need, is to
find at least one person we can trust who loves us in that same way – with
acceptance and affirmation and a firm commitment and dedication to stick with
us, come what may.
It could be a family member or a
friend, a colleague at work or a fellow student at school – it might be a
sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous or a member of this church.
Whoever it is, that person must be
someone you can trust. And as you begin
to reveal yourself to them, God will use that person to help you let go of your
loneliness.
Now if the first photograph in
Matthew 13 and 14 could be labeled “Find one person you can trust,” then the
second snapshot in this biblical album might read: “Pray for God’s presence and
healing touch.”
King Herod, caught in a
crossfire between his wife and his daughter, gave the order for John the
Baptist to be beheaded.
And Matthew says that as John’s disciples
came and took the body and buried it, they went and told Jesus.
The next verse in Matthew 14 is
simple and straightforward, but full of sorrow and pain. When Jesus heard this, He withdrew from
there in a boat to a lonely place apart (Matthew 14:13).
Jesus and John had been connected
from their birth. They were cousins and
kindred spirits and fellow travelers in their journey of faith. So when John was executed, something deep
down in Jesus’ soul died with him. And
that is what we call today “the grief process.”
Whenever, however we lose
someone we love, and walk through the valley of the shadow of death, the
loneliness can be overwhelming until we discover that God’s presence and
healing touch sustains us every step of the way.
On a Sunday morning in 1847, a
man named Henry Francis Lyte, who was a Scottish pastor in a congregation
called “The Wee Church of St. Andrews,” preached what was to be his last sermon
to the people he had loved and served for more than fifty years.
His health had finally broken and the
doctor ordered him to take a sabbatical leave.
Reluctantly, the pastor and the church members agreed.
As Rev. Lyte pronounced the
benediction, walked down the aisle and out the door, his people followed down
the pathway into the harbor where a small boat was waiting to take him to a
larger ship.
The congregation stood there on the
shoreline with tears in their eyes as they waved goodbye to this man who meant
so much to them.
The ship stopped the second
night in Northern
France, and
as the passengers came down to breakfast the next morning, they noticed that
Rev. Lyte was not among them. They sent
someone to his room, who knocked on the door, but there was no answer.
So they unlocked the door and
inside the room, stretched out across the bed, was the lifeless body of Henry
Francis Lyte. In his hand there was a
piece of paper, and on it was a poem that man of faith had written.
The poem has since been set to music,
and it is today one of the most beloved hymns of the church – one we will sing
as our closing hymn this morning. Listen
to some of the words which have become so familiar to all of us.
The first verse goes like this:
Abide with me, fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens, Lord, with
me abide: When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O
abide with me.
You see, Henry Francis Lyte wasn’t
afraid to live and he wasn’t afraid to die because he knew that he was not
alone. And we can know that too.
Because God, through Jesus Christ,
has helped us find the one person we can trust and has surrounded us with His
holy presence and healing touch.
Which leads us to the final
scene in our scripture lesson from the 14th chapter of Matthew, and
there is one word I would choose to describe it. That word, from the old King James Version of
the Bible, is “inasmuch.”
Matthew says that as Jesus withdrew
to a lonely place, the crowds followed Him from the towns. And when He saw them, Jesus had compassion on
them and began to heal the sick.
Then, as evening fell, the disciples
said to Him “Lord, this is a lonely place and the day is now over. Send the crowds away, for they are hungry and
need to buy food for themselves.”
But Jesus answered “They need not
go away – give them something to eat.”
And what those disciples and the crowd of people witnessed that day has
been called ever since “The Feeding of the 5,000.”
Jesus said the blessing over five
fish and two loaves of bread, and when the disciples were done serving all of
the men, women and children, Matthew says that everyone had been fed. (Matthew 14:13-21).
Now here’s the point of the
story: when we feel lonely, isolated and
unrecognized even in the midst of a crowd, that is precisely the moment when
God may be calling us to reach out and help somebody else.
Dr. Karl Menninger, the founder of
modern day psychiatry and a Presbyterian elder from Topeka, Kansas – Dr. Menninger once said,
“If I felt an anxiety attack or break
down coming on, I would leave the house, lock the door behind me, cross the
street to find someone, anyone in need and try to help them.”
And when we do that, God can
and will perform a miracle in us. How do
I know? Because Jesus told us so –
Matthew 25, verses 35-40:
I was hungry and you gave me food,
thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you
clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to me…Truly I say
to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it
unto me.
Folks, if you have come here today
with a sense of loneliness deep down in your heart, then know beyond the shadow
of a doubt that God is here in this place and you are welcomed with open arms.
And as you remember those
scenes from the life of Jesus Christ in the gospel of Matthew, chapters 13, 14
and 25, then
(1) find someone you can trust,
(2) pray for God’s presence and
healing touch and
(3) never forget that word “inasmuch”
–
Inasmuch as you have done it unto one
of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you have done it unto me.
For He has promised to be with you
and me, from here to eternity!
Amen.
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