Sunday Sermon

Sunday, March 17, 2017

It was Saint Patrick’s Day, but I wasn’t paying much attention to that. It’s also our daughter Rebecca’s Homecoming Day, the day we brought her home from The Cradle in Evanston, IL. That was an incredible day, which changed our lives forever. Now, she is a mother herself with a young adult daughter of her own. I wish that we didn’t live so far apart, but we try to get together every year, either with them coming to Spokane or us flying down to Tampa. On March 17, Saint Patrick always takes second place to Homecoming.

Next on my mind was the fact that I was to speak in church this morning. Since ACC has no professional paid clergy or staff except a part-time church secretary, everyone has to pitch in to take care of everything from the flowers, music, ushering, leading the services, and serving communion, to giving the sermons. John and I are not formal members of ACC, but we come to Arusha every year, so I think the folks at ACC see us as “relief players.” John spoke last month, and today it was my turn.

I love the Sunday flower arrangements.

Before the service began, while the musicians for the morning were practicing, a tiny boy with a drum joined them and played along. John and I thought he was doing a pretty good job of staying in rhythm, but the musicians did not and had him taken away. I was disappointed.

Pre-service practice group

The tiny drummer boy

I had carefully chosen the text Luke 9:18-26, in which Jesus asks his disciples two questions: Who do people say I am? and Who do you say I am? Those are questions both non-Christians and Christians should ask. The more time I spent thinking about this text, the more interesting and textured it became to me. I had to think about all the people in my life who do not share my faith and wonder why I am so committed to following Jesus when so many others aren’t even curious about him. Also, why do I have an understanding of my faith that I it seems the majority of self-labeled Christians do not. I wasn’t at all certain how the audience would respond to what I said, and was very relieved when people came up to me after the service and told me that I had voiced what they also believed. Most surprising was a very elderly little woman who asked if I would print a copy for her. Of course I will.

With that assignment out of the way, I was ready to relax and enjoy a great Sunday dinner somewhere nice. Our friend Sharon asked where we would like to go, and I chose George’s, a favorite with us. MaryLou and Terry Morton also came along. As always, the setting at George’s was lovely, and there was enough of a breeze to make eating outside very pleasant. As he does often, John chose the day’s special, which this Sunday was braised, grilled beef ribs. I decided to go very rogue and ordered the Greek Grilled Red Snapper. Mary Lou ordered slow roasted lamb shanks, and both Terry and Sharon got George’s famous salad. It was all delicious, and we lingered to enjoy the setting and company until close to 4:00 p.m. It’s such a joy to have good friends waiting here for us each year.

Left to Right: Sharon, MaryLou, John, me, Terry

We were looking forward to speaking with Peri as we usually do on Sunday evening, but she was still with Luke and not available on Facechat or whatever it is that we use. Perhaps we can connect on Monday night. Only one more week and we’ll be flying back to see Peri in person again.