Past Sermon

Sermon Title: "Why Are You Here? "
Date: April 22, 2007
Minister: Rev. Charles E. Ensley, Jr.

Lesson:  2 Corinthians 1:1-7

Members of our congregation sometimes recommend or even give me books to read, not all of which I am able to read.  But around the time of my surgery in February, Jim Carter gave me this book, 90 Minutes in Heaven.  (Don Piper with Cecil Murphey, Revell, Grand Rapids, 2004)  It tells the true story of Don Piper, a Baptist minister in Texas, who, in 1989, had a horrific auto accident.  An eighteen-wheeler on a two-lane bridge drove over the top of Don’s Ford Escort.  Both he and his car were so badly mangled, he with no discernable pulse, that the medics and troopers said he was dead and threw a tarp over his car to hide the ugly mess inside. 

Over the next ninety minutes, Don Piper went to heaven.  He very clearly describes it, not as we’ve heard those life-after-death stories with a light at the end of a dark tunnel, but as he experienced it.  I could go on with a description and make that the point of this sermon.

But Don came back to life.  He truly believes he was dead, and I wouldn’t dispute that.  A fellow Baptist minister, who happened upon the accident, crawled in the trunk of the smashed Escort and prayed fervently for Don to survive and have no internal injuries.  And apropos to the title of the book, after 90 minutes in heaven, Don came back to life on Earth with both legs and one arm broken, in fact nearly severed from his shoulder, but with no internal injuries.

Jim gave me the book with the inscription that Don’s description of his several year recovery made him accept a “new normal.”  Don writes, “human nature has a tendency to try to reconstruct old ways and pick up where we left off.  If we’re wise, we don’t continue to go back to the way things were (we can’t anyway).  We must forget the old standard and accept a ‘new normal.’”  And that is what I’d like to focus on.  How do we cope with something that’s been dealt us, and what do we do with it?

For nearly a year, Don’s left leg, which had four inches of femur missing, was encased in a 35 pound metal Ilazorav frame to stabilize it.  He had no choice; he awoke from surgery to find his wife had given consent.  Over time, it would allow the bone to grow to fill the gap.  Four daily adjustments, every six hours around the clock, were excruciatingly painful, and he was angry.  He had experienced heaven; he liked it there.  Why couldn’t he stay?  Why did God sentence him to come back to Earth and endure such pain?

Much later, as his recovery continued, he realized God must have sent him back for a purpose.  Almost by accident, he discovered what it was.  Taking a group of youth to a church rally, they arrived late and had to sit in the balcony.  Kids there, being like kids here at our church, ran to the top row of the balcony, calling back, “We’ll save you a seat, pastor!”  As Don sweated his way up the steps on his crutches, he noticed a sullen-looking teenaged boy sitting in a wheelchair.  Don hobbled over to him, greeted him, only to discover this teen’s leg was also encased in an Ilazorav frame.  Don was filled with compassion and explained to the boy he had worn one too, and he understood the pain the boy was going through.  He talked with him a while, gave him his card, and said to call him anytime, day or night, if he just needed to talk or needed some encouragement.  The boy called three times.

Several other such stories are reported, and they seem to speak of the same comfort or consolation the Apostle Paul wrote of in his second letter to the Corinthians.  In the words of a simpler version of the Bible, “God is the source of every mercy…  He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others.  When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”  (2 Cor. 1:3-4, Holy Bible, New Living Translation)

As Don discovered his purpose in life, one that shaped his future ministry, so too we might ask ourselves why are we here?  I don’t just mean why do come to church.  Why are you here on Earth?  For what purpose or purposes did God put you here?

Peggy and I worshipped last Sunday at a United Church of Christ in Portland, Oregon.  It was a fully inclusive, open and affirming, multicultural and biracial church with all age groups represented.  Four friendly and gracious women sitting in the pew in front of us were from three different races.  At the coffee hour afterwards, the minister’s husband, both of whom I knew when they were ministers here in Southern California, told me it took work.  His wife had served there eleven years.  It took a while to get the congregation to where it was today.  I was impressed by what we experienced, and wrote her last week to tell her so.  You might say she had accomplished her purpose in ministry.

But afterwards, they introduced me to their two children, a tall son of sixteen, and a daughter about 12 or 13.  Now I know this couple had no children when they moved to Oregon eleven years ago.  They told me the ages at which their children joined their family, and I surmised they might have come out of some foster family situation. 

As I looked at those two youth, clamoring to take part in some activity after church, I couldn’t help but wonder if she had another worthy purpose she was accomplishing.

We had gone to Portland to visit our older daughter Emily, known to some of you here, who turns 30 today.  Emily has had a variety of jobs since she entered the university of life experiences at age 18, but her last two jobs, here in Long Beach and now in Portland, are with mentally challenged adults.  In fact, I asked her if that was the current politically correct term.  She told me that it is “intellectually disabled,” for the word “disabled” is important for grant applications.  Emily told me this with a smirk and a snicker, admitting that we are all “intellectually disabled” in some way or another!

Emily got a glowing letter of recommendation from her former boss at Arts and Services for the Disabled in Long Beach, and we met a counselor in Portland who similarly sang her praises.  I have seen Emily working with these people, and I can’t help but wonder if she has discovered her purpose in life.  As Paul wrote:  “God consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God.” (2 Corinthians 1:4, New Revised Standard Version)

On Tuesday evening’s NBC newscast, Brian Williams introduced the pastor of First Baptist Church of Blacksburg, Virginia.  He and other religious professionals had been involved on the Virginia Tech campus, meeting with students and families as they tried to deal with the senseless killings that occurred there Monday.  I did not get the impression that they were there to offer specific religious counseling, nor to convert someone who was not a Christian.  Brian Williams asked the pastor how it felt to be faced with the task of meeting those students and families.  The pastor replied that it was the most difficult thing he had done in 30 years of ministry.  At the end of his career, I imagine that he might say this experience was one of the purposes for which God placed him here, especially at that place at that time.

Out of all the media reports we have seen on television, newspaper and Internet since last Monday, I cannot help but think about how many people are directly affected by the acts of one deranged student on a murderous rampage.  Surely the 32 students and professors killed or those injured, and their families.  But those students have boyfriends, girlfriends, roommates and classmates.  Of the 26,000 students at Virginia Tech, I imagine almost everyone knows someone who knew a victim.  The people I have been praying for every day are too numerous to even imagine.

Don Piper’s book has caused me to think about my own purpose here.  Is it to raise two daughters from infancy to adulthood?  Is it to serve as a parish pastor, to attempt to interpret to people of faith the Word of God for our age, to assist people through the many transitions we all face in this life?  Is it to pray for people I know, and many more I do not know, trusting that God knows these names and their concerns?  In my annual week at summer camp, is my purpose to make beginning campers feel safe and comfortable in that setting so they will continue to attend camp as they grow up, just as we have seen so many campers here do?

I do not believe God gives us only one purpose.  We may have more than one at various points in our life.  I had a conversation just yesterday with a church member who, at age 50, is pausing in her career to discern what her purpose is.  It is a worthwhile experience to undertake, to take stock of your life so far, evaluate what you are doing and what you can do or would like to do, and determine if that is the course you should set out on.

Somewhere central to us though, and I see this through the writings of Paul’s letter, there is a compassion, a comfort, an understanding we can bring to others lives based on our own experiences, our own successes and failures, our own joys and sorrows, our own gains and losses.  Perhaps God enrolls us all in the university of life experiences, and we use what we’ve learned when we reach out to others who have a need we know something about which we might know.  No matter what your education, your degrees, your career, your age, that is a purpose for which God put each of us here on Earth.