Leaving Home

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Thessalonians 3: 6-13 and Isaiah 65: 17-25 Sermon Title: Leaving Home Preached on 11/13/22 Today is a special day for us. It’s a special day for our church. The Methodists, Episcopalians, Baptists, nor the non-denominational churches have anything like this. We are the church with roots in Scotland, so here we are with bag pipes and drums. I’m wearing a kilt, even though my family’s Welsh. A couple years ago after this service, we were out to lunch with Jim and Martha Goodlet. I was still in this kilt, and an actual Scottish immigrant (He had only been in this country for a few months.) asked me where I was from. “We came to Marietta from Virginia Highlands,” I told him. He wasn’t very impressed, but that’s the truth. We moved out here from that Atlanta neighborhood when I was a kid. We moved to Marietta right after our house was broken into, which happened just after my dad’s car was broken into. We left our home in the city to come here, which quickly became home, and today, wearing tartans from a land across the sea, we remember the long line of people who left their homeland in the hope of having a better life, many of them leaving home under much harsher circumstances than mine. For example, Peter Marshall, the great Presbyterian minister who brought this tradition of Kirkin’ o’ the Tartan to America, left a poverty-stricken coal-mining community called Coatbridge in North Lanarkshire. Though it was his home, there, his prospects were dismal. He spent his days working in the mines. At night, he took classes. In 1927, a cousin offered to pay his way to the United States. Upon arrival, he enrolled in Columbia Theological Seminary, just down the road. While in Atlanta, he met Catherine Wood, who was then a student at Agnes Scott. While they were students, the two of them made their way to our church. He preached in our sanctuary and sang with the seminary’s choir. After graduation, he was called to New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. to be their pastor. While there, he gained national notoriety as one of the great preachers and was appointed as chaplain to the Senate. His sermons were published and sent out across the country. He was a voice of hope during World War II. After his death, a movie was made about him, A Man Called Peter, staring Richard Todd. Last week, I asked our children who they thought would play me in a movie. Lily said, “the actor who played McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy,” and Cece said, “probably my basketball coach.” Why, Cece? “Because yesterday she ate a whole bag of chicken by herself, just like you would do.” Well, Google Richard Todd. That’s who played Peter Marshall. I’ll be played by Cece’s basketball coach. Not only was Peter Marshall played by a bright-eyed and square-jawed actor, but he could just plain preach. With his sermons, he encouraged this entire nation, yet he never forgot where he came from nor did he forget where we are going. From Scotland, he brought with him this tradition of raising tartans, honoring families, and celebrating heritage. He never lost hope during those war-torn years. As he preached sermon after sermon and prayed prayer after prayer, even while he watched the Nazi army march through nation after nation, he never lost hope. He stayed rooted in the Gospel, where God tells us where we are going. I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; For the former things shall not be remembered, says the Lord. Today, as we remember those who crossed the sea hoping for something better, as we turn to the Gospel, which promises that something better is on the way, I ask you: Do you ever feel like some are giving up on a brighter future? Do you ever feel like people are losing hope? Now, sometimes I feel discouraged, and I feel the shadows come. Yet when I do, I remember. I remember those who love me. I pray to the God who holds my future. I get up off the couch. I put down the remote. I recognize that sometimes the problem is not the world but my frame of mind. One afternoon, an old man was sitting at a gas station near the city limits of town. A moving truck pulled in. The driver got out to gas up the truck, and the old man asked him, “Where are you coming from?” The driver said, “We hated to leave. It was a wonderful place for our kids, full of friends that were so hard to say goodbye to.” The old man said, “Well, you’re going to love this place. It’s just like where you’re coming from.” The driver got back in his truck, waved to the man, and was hopeful about his new home. Then another moving truck pulled into the gas station. The driver got out to gas up the truck, and the old man asked him, “Where you coming from?” The driver said, “The worst place ever! I’m so glad to be shaking the dust of that one-horse town from our shoes. What’s this place like?” The old man said, “I’m sorry to tell you, but this town is just like where you’re coming from.” Sometimes, our problem is not with the world, but with our frame of mind. Just as it takes hope to sail across the Atlantic, just as it takes hope to leave home or march in the streets, so it takes hope for us to get up off the couch and out into the world to live our faith, or better yet, getting out into the world to live our faith is what reveals hope to us all over again. My friends, if you’re losing hope in a brighter future, but you’re stuck at home on the couch, maybe the problem is your state of mind. If you’ve forgotten what God has in store, then maybe you just need to get up and out of the house. If those incessant campaign ads are driving you crazy, then turn them off. Maybe the world is not the problem. Maybe the world is just waiting – waiting on you. Therefore, in our first Scripture lesson, the Apostle Paul wrote: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. Those living in idleness are mere busybodies. Such a person we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly. Brothers and sisters do not be weary in doing what is right. If you ever grow weary in doing what is right, remember the Scottish ancestors who fought to the death for something better, for they would rather die than surrender. That’s the significance of this sword to my left. It’s here to remind us of the many who wielded such great swords to protect their families. They had to protect their families, for Scotland was invaded again and again, probably by my people from Wales. For years if not generations, the Scottish highlanders had to defend their way of life and their homeland. They would not accept defeat. Regardless of the obstacles ahead, they remained hopeful. They held true to faith, and they fought for a better future. What future are you working towards? Last Friday, I read a wonderful article written by an army combat veteran, Garrett Cathcart. He spoke of how it means something to him on Veterans Day when someone takes the time to say, “Thank you for your service.” Over the years, he’s learned to say, “It was my honor [to serve], and you’re worth it.” However, while “Thank you for your service” is a meaningful recognition, his new mission is to inspire fellow citizen to serve in their communities, for When we serve in our communities, we make them stronger and more resilient. When we build stronger communities, we build a stronger country. When we volunteer to deliver meals, mentor a young person, clean up a park, or help a neighbor in need, we build stronger relationships. On the other hand, when we sit in our homes watching the world burn, when we complain about our neighbors without getting to know them, when we give up before we’ve gotten started, the social fabric tears, and the light of hope flickers within our hearts. My friends, when we are isolated, the evil one has us right where he wants us. When we give up on hope, we only make his job easier. Therefore, listen to the truth. Listen to the promise: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth. For the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. No more shall the sound of weeping be heard, or the cry of distress. When you call, I will answer, while you are yet speaking, I will hear. The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox. No one shall hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord. A new heaven and a new earth await. Do not settle for life here and now. Prepare your hearts for something better. Step out into the future with faith. Nurture hope within your spirit. Set your eyes on that land across the shore and let us walk towards it together. Amen.