Sermons

Sermon, The Rev. Daniel Gutierrez, June 13

Listen to audio version of this sermon.

Of the many gifts given to humans by the Lord, walking upright, the ability to love, the capacity of the brain and one of the least appreciated is the human hand. Aside from the genius of opposable thumbs – I am fascinated by the act of holding hands. An act that connects two people. Like the Beatles song “When I'll feel that something, I want to hold your hand."

Think of the images of hand holding. An adult taking the hand of their elderly parent as the walk – in it we see support and love. A couple in a park, two hands intertwined as a sign of their commitment to one another. In large crowds, I instinctively grab the hands of both my son and wife so that we can navigate through the masses together. Our joined hands assure we will not lose one another and arrive safely together.

Hands are held during vigils, marches, weddings and funerals, it signifies connection. Few things are more innocent than a child holding the hand of a parent. A child holding the adults hand is a pure expression of trust, and inherent act of faith. The child must believe that the hand will provide guidance, protection, comfort and love. They also must trust that whoever brought them to this point, will continue to protect and support them as they walk move forward.

One of the most famous hands are those of God giving life to Adam in Michelangelo’s fresco in the Sistine Chapel. We sense the thrill of life in a newly created body. Within the fresco is an often ignored detail – God has a hand holding Eve. If I were to imagine Michelangelo painting an additional fresco, it would be a depiction of God holding Adams hand as they begin the human journey together.

And this is where our story begins. There are thousands of instances where God has taken our hands and guided each one of us to a place where we are meant to be. A hand that leads us to unexpected places, such as a courtroom or the inside of this Church. It may be a place for which there is no explanation, or a place where we really do not want to be - marital problems, our addictions, or the realization that the façade we are living is just that. We have no explanation for how we got there - it is as if someone, as if God led us to this place.

And when we are at this place, it usually requires us to make a choice. A choice that defines who we are. Such as- do I keep silent or do I speak up. Do I continue with my destructive behavior or do seek help. Do I assist or just walk way. Do I go at it alone or do I fall at the feet of the Lord, weeping and say I need you Lord.

For centuries, the woman with the Alabaster Jar has represented devotion to Jesus the meaning of forgiveness, but today I would like to look at her story differently. The Gospel tells us that she is a sinner; in fact she is not worthy to be named. She notices that Jesus enters the home of a Pharisee for a meal. She is standing at the entrance, and if she enters the home, she could be killed.

Yet something led her to that door, and she has a choice. She falls at Jesus’ feet, kisses them, weeps over them, dries them with her hair, and then anoints them with ointment. Jesus tells the woman that her sins are forgiven, because she loved, and because she trusted. As Jesus lifts her by the hand, he says “Your faith has saved you, go in peace.” God has led her to the doorway and she enters with trust.

Throughout the Gospels we find those who trust. What if on the road to Damascus, Paul attributed that to hallucinations - would we have the message of hope. If the Samaritan women had decided to walk past Jesus on the way to the well, would we have inclusion? Or if Mary had said no, or Joseph ignored his deep love for a simple peasant woman carrying the child of another?

Each of these people were led by the hand of God to a place they were meant to be. Martin Luther could have continued celebrating mass and looked the other way; Rosa Parks could have moved to the back of the bus, Martin Luther King could have sat silently at his Church, or Jesus could have decided to avoid Calvary. They did not; they were led to a place and trusted in God’s love and had faith in God’s will. Because of this, our story is different.

Their decisions changed not only history, but lives. Yet some of the most pressing choices are not great ones, but everyday decisions. Should you have that next drink, hear the word cancer and try to take the next step, flirt with that coworker down the hall, or open the doors of this church or any church to anyone who wants to weep or anoint the feet of Jesus.

Different choices for different outcomes but with one common denominator. A trust that as you place your hand in God’s hand, you can face anything, assured that the hands that led you to this point, will squeeze you tighter when life becomes difficult. A faith that your steps will guided, that you will be supported when you stumble, you will be lifted when tired. Mother Teresa said that “we are called not to be successful, but to be faithful.”

One of the most moving depictions of hand holding is found in the movie, Life is Beautiful. Set in late 1930s Italy, Guido who is Jewish, e brazenly charms his way into the heart of the Catholic Dora. The film jumps five years ahead. It is wartime and Guido and Dora are married and have a 4 ½ year old son Joshua. Life indeed is beautiful until the Nazis begin rounding up all the Jews including Guido and Joshua. They are shipped to concentration camps.

Throughout the film, Guido is always holding his son’s hand. As he leads his son onto the train, you sense his terror, yet he demonstrates only care and comfort with that hand. Guido protects his young son from the horrors which surround them. He invents an elaborate game that they are on a big holiday and cleverly stating that Joshua cannot cry, ask for his mother or declare he's hungry, because by doing so would result in losing the game – which we know is really death.

The father hand guides him through this hell. He hides him; he feeds him, and bathes him. At the end of the movie, in the chaos of the American advance—he takes his son by the hand and tells him to stay in a box. While afraid, the boy trusts his father and stays inside. Guido is questioned and taken off by a guard, but but not before making his son laugh one last time by imitating the Nazi guard as if the two of them are marching around the camp together.

He sees the boy peeking through the box, motions him back in, and his son a wink. Guido and the soldier turn the corner, and machine gun fire is heard. The guard walks back out-without Guido. And at the end, Joshua leaves the box and believes he won the game when he is reunited with his mother.

Through this journey, the father and son have hands intertwined in love and faith. Joshua trusted that his father would make everything right and the father had faith that he could protect his son. Like the woman with the Alabaster Jar, love allowed them to go forward. Like those places in our own lives, we go forward holding God’s hand.

When we find those odd, moving and unpredictable moments, we should understand that that God has led us, and there, we must make a choice. Do we continue on our own way or step through the doorway and fall at God’s feet. We are led to this church today by the hand of God, and we may have choices to make? It may be personal, professional, or spiritual. Will you continue walking past that door or will you take the Lord’s hand. It is your choice. For those making those choices, I leave you with this prayer:

Dear God, I do not know where you are leading me. I do not know where my next day, my next week or my next year will look like. As I try to keep my hands open, I trust that you will put your hand in mine and bring me home. That you God for your hands, thank you God for your love. Amen.