SERMON

January 21st, the Second Sunday of Epiphany

“He Will Wipe Away Every Tear”

Text John 14:1-4

Union Congregational Church

Rev. John Carl Swanson, Pastor

Today’s sermon title actually refers to the Epistle, specifically Revelation 7:17, rather than to today’s text, John 14:1-4, though it works for this Gospel as well.  Jesus will indeed wipe away every tear that His faithful disciples will shed.  He will wipe away ours as well.

In your bulletin, you have an insert.  It is a diagram from Chapman’s Piloting, Seamanship and Small Boat Handling, 1960 Edition. (Chapter 6, Page 113)  I’m going to pause here now and tell you how you moor a boat.  Now, may seem a far reach for a sermon, and it would be if our church was in Nebraska. But, seeing that we are less than a quarter mile from Quincy Bay and that a good number of our people, including the last two chair people of the Trustees, a member of the Mission Committee and the Pastor are active boaters, this illustration is at least relevant and, whereas misery loves company, it is a truism that the two happiest days of a boater’s life are the day they buy their boat and the day that they sell their boat, maybe there are folks out there who will be foolish, I mean, fortunate, enough to own a boat.    And, if you do, I tell you true, there is no better place to sail than Quincy Bay.

So pull out your insert and I’ll tell you how to moor a boat on bright blue Quincy Bay.

But first, a mooring story.  Several years ago, after pulling my mooring at the end of the season, I drove out to Leominster to visit one of my parishioners, Norman.  Norman was in a nursing home.  At one time he had been a champion sailor, in fact, a half model of his boat “Blondie” is one of my prized possessions.  a tribute to a fine boat and a fine gentleman, who was a parishioner and a friend.  Well, Quincy Bay mud is, shall we say, odious, and a mooring recovered after several months at the bottom of the bay is more so. Everyone thinks the smell is pollution but it’s really not; it is a natural phenomenon of the geological nature of the bay.  O.K., it still smells and it doesn’t wash off mooring chains or sailor’s hands very easily.

I love setting and pulling my mooring.  I ride a desk all week and, although I work out and hike and am somewhat athletic; I don’t often get to do hard manual work and I miss it.  I worked my way through college and seminary as both a laborer and a carpenter.  When I pull my mooring each fall, I get dirty and I love it. 

As I mentioned, Quincy Bay mud is odious and, whereas I was calling on a fellow sailor, I didn’t have a shower before visiting Norman.  Now, Norman was pretty much out of it when I saw him that day.  He was in the hallway, sitting in a geriatric chair, staring vacantly out the window.

It really bothered me seeing Norm fail, as we were close.  I pulled up a chair and tried to engage Norm in conversation.  There was no response.  No matter how much I talked, Norm just stared out the window.

What happened next was a gift of the Holy Spirit.  I suddenly stood up, walked over to Norm and put my hand over his face. 

Now, I have to say, I had washed my hands several times, but Quincy Bay mud is fierce.  Norm sat straight up in his chair, smiled and, looking right into my eyes, said, “What?  You pull your mooring today?  Remember, the longer the scope, the better.  What do you have for a mooring/”

“A 150 pound mushroom, thirty heavy to the swivel, thirty light to the float, 15’ pennant,” I replied.

     “How big is the boat?”

     “26’ full keel Pearson,” I said.

     “Kind of light on the mushroom, but you got pretty good scope, always better off with longer scope and lighter mooring than heavy mooring and short scope.”

     “Yeah, I know, Norm.  Hey, buddy, how are you doing?”

Thank God for Quincy Bay mud and a harried minister who squeezed pulling a mooring between pastoral calls.  The nurse at the desk was shocked that Norman responded to me.  For a brief visit, Norman was in total lucidity.  He was thirty five again, talking boats, not locked in dementia.  I had a great visit and it was the last visit  had with Norman before he went to be with Jesus. What comfort to me and to Norm’s family, with whom I immediately shared this story, was given to us by God via Quincy Bay mud.

Let me now tell you about moorings and I am going to tie it, moor it, to today’s Gospel passage.

     I use a 150-pound mushroom mooring with thirty feet of 3/8 inch chain shackled to a swivel, that’s an iron gizmo that spins around, which in turn is shackled to thirty feet of ¼ inch chain which runs through a 24 hollow fiberglass ball and is shackled to a 15’1/2 inch line, called a painter, which hooks on a cleat on the boat.  I don’t use a pick up buoy, which most sailors tie on the end of the painter for ease of picking up the painter, hence the name.  It drives my friend Bob Boussy and others crazy, but it’s a odd eccentricity; I like the difficulty of sailing straight for the mooring ball and picking up the line with the boat hook.  I like the challenge, though I did find a cool lobster buoy at Eastern Point during my December Retreat, so maybe I’ll use it as a pick up buoy this summer.  It looks cool.

My boat is a 1966 Pearson Ariel, with a full keel, 5800 pounds of fiberglass, aluminum and lead, 3000 pounds of it below the water in the keel. It draws 3’8” of water.  Her name is “Freebird” and I bought her the same year I got my oldest daughter, in 1989.

I have the wife of wives.  Martha encouraged me to buy the “Bird,” as I call her, when we first knew we were going to have a baby.  “Buy it now before the baby’s here,” Martha said, “because we’ll never be able to buy one afterwards.”  How true.  What a joy that old boat has been to me and what a blessing, pale of course to the joy my family brings me.

The “Bird” was built in 1965 when fiberglass was new and largely not trusted by boat builders.  So, she is over built.  This makes her a slower but better sailor, especially in any type of wind or sea. 

Now, my mooring of 150 pounds is light for a 26’ heavy boat, but I’ve never had a problem with holding, even in the face of severe weather.  Reason:  the scope.  That’s the trick.  An old bosons mate at Maine Maritime Academy once told me, “The anchor holds the chain, the chain holds the ship.”  What he meant by that was the anchor for a large ship is 12 tons (24 thousand pounds.)  That seems heavy, but the Sate of Maine, our ship at Maine Maritime Academy, is 16,800 tons.  The USS John F. Kennedy, an aircraft carrier, weighs 35,000 tons. Both ships take the same size anchor.  It’s the length of the chain that holds the ship, not the anchor.  It’s the length of the chain that holds a boat.  The anchor holds the chain, the chain holds the ship.  The mooring holds the chain, the chain holds the boat.

Hold that thought as we look at the Gospel.  But first, one more look at moorings, specifically the word mooring.

The word mooring shares the same Greek root as the word morass, from which we also get the word moral and morality.  Can you see the connection?  A mooring holds a boat in place and keeps it from drifting away.  A good mooring, properly set, with adequate scope (remember, that is the length of chain and rope), will hold a boat in place in both fair weather and foul, on placid days and in the teeth of a Nor’easter.

Morals will do the same for a person, won’t they?  Good morals will keep you out of trouble, will keep one steady and in place and will hold one in the storms of temptation and in the face of evil.  Poor morals will not.  a boat can be riding nice and secure on a good mooring, but if one casts off from the mooring in the cusp of a storm, or doesn’t check the mooring line to make sure it’s not frayed, the line can snap and the boat will be at the mercy of the storm, or will just drift around until it goes up on the beach, or even worse, up on the rocks.

Isn’t it the same for us?  If we turn away from our morals, or maybe, in this culture we never had them, can’t we end up adrift and on the beach or on the rocks?  Time and time again I have worked with very nice people who have really messed up their lives and are in very serious trouble because they have lost their moorings.

Our morals and our morality are what hold us firm, not only in the storms of life but they keep us from drifting away from the source of life, God, and they keep us from the treacherous shoals that can destroy us.

One of the devil’s greatest tricks is distraction, Temptation by inches.

“Come on,” he tells you, “you don’t need to go to church.”  “Everyone pads an insurance claim.”  “What’s a little lie for a greater good?  “You’ve earned it!” Whatever it is.  You, in other words, are the center of the universe!

The result?  Drift.  Slow but steady drift from the source of all goodness and truth, all love, all zest for life and living, God.  God as revealed to us in Jesus Christ.

A mooring is security. Our morals based on Jesus Christ are security.

     “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  You believe in God, believe also in Me.  In my Father’s house are many mansion, were it not so I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  That where I am you might also be.” Jon 14:1-3

Jesus’ words show that the way to eternal life, though unseen, is secure, as secure as your trust – your mooring – in Jesus.

Jesus has already prepared the way to eternal life – faith in Him, and repentance from sin.  And this is as secure as our trust in Him.

When I take people out in my boat who have never been sailing before, they often get nervous when the boat heels over in a strong gust.  I always tell them that “the boat can’t capsize.  The keel weighs 300 pounds and is almost 4 feet below the water.  Before we capsize, the sails will blow apart and the mast will blow down, at which point capsizing will be virtually impossible, sinking maybe, but capsizing, no.”  It usually calms them down.

Jesus is the mooring of moorings.  Faith in Him will see you through the storms of life.  The only issue that may still be unsettled is one’s willingness to believe.

John 14:1-4

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, trust also in Me.  In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you may also be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going.”

My Living Bible, the translation I used for today’s message, has this to say on these verses.  “There are few verses in Scripture that describe eternal life, but these few verses are rich with promises.  Here Jesus says, ‘I am going there to prepare a place for you,’ and ‘I will come back.’  We can look forward to eternal life because Jesus has promised it to all who believe in Him. Although the details of eternal life are unknown, we need not fear because Jesus is preparing for us and will spend eternity with us.”

He will wipe away every tear.  He will make all things new.  He is not only the source of morality, He is the mooring that will never let go.

I’m a fall sailor.  To me, the best four weeks of sailing are after Labor Day.  My favorite fall sailing day is a brisk dry but overcast day, when the sky is cobalt gray and the sea is dark gray blue.  Give me a fifteen to twenty knot breeze and my boat seemingly becomes alive when I cast off the painter and the big main fills the air and the “Bird” slips away from her mooring.  One turn of the jib sheet around the winch and one quick pull and the jib is out and quickly fills with air and the boat heels over and, like a knife through butter, the “Bird” cuts through the water of the Bay.  All is well.  The boat’s in her element, balanced and on a good heading.

Someday I will slip the mooring of life and I will sail to that distant shore with Jesus as my pilot and I will see Him face to face, and He will not be a stranger.  So says the Bible.

“He will not be a stranger.  I will see Him face to face; these eyes will behold Him.  for none of us has life in ourselves, and none becomes our own master when we die.  For if we are alive we are alive in the Lord and if we die, we die in the Lord.  So whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s possession. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.  So says the spirit.  They may now rest from their labors, for they take with them the record of their deeds.” 

The record of my deeds, both good and not so good, is sealed by the blood of my Savior, Jesus Christ.  Is yours?

Last thought.  Remember I mentioned that you don’t need a heavy mooring to adequately moor a boat, but you need a lot of chain.  Let’s say you mooring is faith, and the chain is Jesus.  How much faith does it take to be saved?  How much faith does it take to go to heaven?  Let’s see, do you have to be a Protestant or a Catholic?  No, that’s not mentioned in the Bible.  How about knowing the Apostles Creed?  No, that’s not in the Bible either.  I know, how about being a member of a church and giving a few bucks to it each year so you can go to the Annual Meeting?  No, that’s not in the Bible either.  How about being holier than thou, a real good two-shoes, no swearing, smoking, drinking, gossiping or otherwise sinning?  Yeah, maybe; there were a group of people like that in the Bible, they were called Pharisees.  Yeah, but the Bible doesn’t present them in too good of a light, does it?

How much faith does it take to be saved, now much faith does it take to go to heaven?  Well, look at the thief on the Cross with Jesus.  Could he say the Apostles Creed?  Was he a church member?  Was he a goody two-shoes?  No, he was a sinner, adrift from his moorings, on the rocks, his life destroyed by his own hand, facing a richly deserved death.  What did he say to Jesus?  “Jesus, I am a lifetime Congregationalist who served on several committees?”  Or, “Jesus, you know, I wasn’t perfect, but I did my best to live a good life!”  Or, “You know,

I didn’t stead as much as other thieves.”  No, he said, simply, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom.”  And what did Jesus say to him?  He said,

“I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Faith, to be effective, need not be pious, need not be worn on the sleeve, need not be never quaking.  Note, I said quaking, not doubting.  I never doubt my Savior, but sometimes, I do get nervous!  Faith, to be effective, must be real.  Is your faith real?

If it is, your mooring will hold, no matter the seas, until that day you see Him, Jesus, face to face.  And He will not only wipe away every tear, He will fill you with everlasting joy!  In His Name.  Amen.