Dancing Among the Fallen Leaves

Dancing Among the Fallen Leaves 

2024-60
sermon preached at Church of the Good Shepherd, Federal Way, WA 
www.goodshepherdfw.org 
by the Rev. Josh Hosler, Rector
Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 28B), November 17, 2024 
Daniel 12:1-3 ; Psalm 16 ; Hebrews 10:11-25 ; Mark 13:1-8 

Charlie Brown and Lucy Van Pelt are walking outdoors in the autumn. Charlie Brown muses to Lucy, “Do falling leaves make you sad?” 

“Absolutely not!” Lucy fires back. “If they want to fall, I say, ‘Let ’em fall.’ In fact, falling leaves are a very good sign. It's when you see them jumping back onto the trees that you're in trouble!”1 

Charles Schulz’s humor is, as usual, steeped in wisdom. The image of leaves leaping back onto the trees is ridiculous, but I think it shows us what we’d really prefer. If that happened, wouldn’t have to go forward into the cold and barrenness of winter. 

Well, I have certainly been “in my feelings” for the past couple weeks. Do you know this term? It’s something the kids say these days. When we’re “in our feelings,” we’re reacting automatically instead of responding carefully. Yet one good goal for people who want to mature is to be less “in our feelings” and more “using our feelings for good and not evil.” 

That’s pretty hard to do in our current situation. It is crystal clear to me that this election marks a pronounced shift—a irrevocable decision point—in the history of the United States. Originally I wrote paragraphs and paragraphs explaining why I think that, but then I decided I was too much “in my feelings” and scrapped it. I was running very quickly from “this happened today” to “that means this will happen tomorrow”—and next year, and next decade. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t measured. I was trying to predict the future with very limited information. 

But remember what I said last week? We only get to act in the present. 

“Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 

“Ha! You think this temple is impressive? Sure it is. But it’s not going to be here for long.” 

“What? No, no, that could never happen—God wouldn’t allow it! How could we possibly be the chosen people without a Temple?” 

“We were the chosen people long before there was a Temple, and we still will be the chosen people long after it’s gone. Temples are temporary; only God is eternal.” 

“But Jesus, you don’t go around saying these things!” we American Christians cry out from our own present time. “To say that the temple will be destroyed is like saying that our nation is in decline and that democracy is on the ropes. That’s not just unpatriotic—it’s treason! Isn’t it better to have faith in God to prevent these things?” 

“On the contrary,” Jesus might reply. “God allows human actions to have consequences, and those can be massively destructive. God doesn’t go around preventing the ends of things, but walking with us through them. You can pray, ‘Let this cup pass from my lips’—God hears your sincerity. But be sure add to that prayer, ‘Not my will, but yours be done.’ When everything you know seems to be ending, that doesn’t mean God has abandoned you. It just means that the leaves will not be jumping back onto the trees.” 

“But, Jesus … when will all this happen?” 

“Wrong question. Those who answer it confidently and arrogantly are the ones to be wary of. All you need to know is that violence and despair are not signs of the end of the world. They are signs of new beginnings.” 

Thanks, Jesus. Thanks a lot. That helps soooo much right now, to come to church and hear your gloom and doom and be told that it’s actually somehow good. 

“Oh, beloved ones,” I imagine Jesus continuing. “You keep looking for signs about the future, as if that could help you act in the future. Humans don’t get to do that. 

“But that won’t stop some people from trying to convince you that they know what’s coming. Powerful people will promise to save you from whatever fearful thing you’re going through. They’ll pick some segment of the population and blame them for everything that holds you back. They’ll say, ‘Just get rid of those people and you’ll be OK again.’ 

“That’s how wars start. That’s how rumors of wars lead to wars—wars of genocide against scapegoats. And along with that are the usual troubles of life that are far more random: earthquakes, famines, diseases. When these things happen to you, you will truly believe that the world is ending. 

“But here’s the thing, beloved disciples: none of that means the world is ending. None of that is a sign. It’s just the way the world has always worked. It’s going to keep happening. Change will always be painful. The question is, what will you do about it? 

“Will you join forces with the cruel and the vindictive—those who vow revenge on their enemies? Will you take the easy way of anger and control—the lie that promises a quick fix? Or will you take the true and difficult way of complicated relationships, patient forbearance, and respecting the dignity of every human being? 

“When you look back on the most difficult times in your life, will you remember them as times you panicked and resorted to rage and violence? Or will you remember them as times when you accepted some degree of suffering, grew in humility, and learned to give more to those who are even less fortunate than you are? In short, will you continue to learn in this worldwide school of Love, or will you start skipping class? 

“Quit looking for signs. You’ll get no signs that you couldn’t spot through your own God-given critical thinking skills.” 

Dear friends, we are most certainly heading into even more chaotic times. But we don’t yet know the specific shape of that chaos—so we need to wait, watch, and listen. We need to pay attention, even when it hurts, so that we can be ready to bring our own unique gifts to bear. We each need to tend our own garden, but we also need to keep building community together. Bishop Phil has advised all the clergy—and I advise all of you—to double down on your pracitces of daily prayer and weekly worship, and if you’re not doing these, to start now. 

Yes, everything falls apart eventually. Yes, there is hope even then. We hear it in our funeral rite: “All of us go down to the dust, yet even at the grave, we make our song Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!” When everything falls apart, God is here, and God has made us the song-makers of eternal life. 

So when you suffer grief and loss, where will you place your trust? When comfort and familiarity cannot continue, where do you seek out and find love? Our call today is to feel our feelings, acknowledge them, and become better students of them. We can’t do this without God’s help. We can’t rise above our survival instincts and emotional overload without calling on the one who made us, who named us, and who keeps calling us to trust more deeply. If Jesus says that this is only the beginning of the birthpangs, what reason do I have not to trust him? Only my human perspective, which I know is woefully limited. Only my feelings, which have a habit of getting in the way. 

When the center cannot hold, it’s time to find a different center. I most certainly want all of you to be near that center for me. I don’t want to spend all my energy focusing on scheming authoritarians and opportunists. I don’t want to focus on some crisis in the future that I would no doubt predict very wrongly. How can we draw closer together right here at Good Shepherd? Better yet, how can we draw others to share joy with us, right here, right now? 

Last night a group of folks rented our downstairs space for a celebration of life for a woman named Angelina. I’m grateful to the members of the Fellowship Team who took turns, with me, to be present during the event as a designated member on-site. When you think of an event honoring someone who has died, do you imagine lots of solemnity and lots of tears? Well, kind and caring words were spoken, to be sure. And prayers were prayed. But there was also an incredible amount of delicious food. And then the DJ started the dance party! 

This is what Christians must be: those who dance among the fallen leaves. Because we have a hidden well of joy that cannot be drained even by death. 

What invitation can you make to someone who is grieving or afraid? “Hey, here’s a community I’ve been hanging out with. Our goal is just to love one another, because we think Jesus had that exactly right. Come and see.” 

So let’s not neglect to meet together, as is the habit of some. I want to be with you all, and I notice and care when someone is missing. I know it can be hard to get out of bed on a Sunday morning when it feels like everything is falling apart. But that’s when we most need to be together. Because love takes time. It’s a process. It means showing up, again and again and again, and being in each other’s lives. And maybe we can dance more often! 

In the spring, there will be new leaves on the trees. But we don’t have to wait until spring to find hope, because spring has a very early harbinger. After today, the green goes away—because the season is about to change.