Good morning!
I have a question. How many of you have
easily agree with other members of your family on movies?
Wow. Lucky, some of you. Some of you look more like my family… we will
literally sometimes plan forever to have a movie day and then end up in two or
even three theaters – it’s like toddlers engaging in parallel play. It’s great, we’re all enjoying ourselves… and
we’re vaguely togetherish…
But one movie that Lim
and I forced our kids to watch recently that everyone uniformly loved is
Forrest Gump. Because it’s completely
loveable, right? If you’ve seen it, I
bet you agree – and if you haven’t, it’s time – so here’s at least a clip for
you…
So what does Forrest Gump
have to do with Redemption?
When this clip starts, Forrest’s
story has been written. He’s not very
bright, and his legs don’t quite work right, so he has awkward braces that slow
him down and make him a target. It
doesn’t look like anything is going to change for him.
But then, when his best
friend Jenny yells, “run!” – well, he just does. And after this moment, he has a new story –
one defined instead by his ability to run.
That new story not only changes his life but the lives of countless
others.
Have you ever had your
narrative changed in a moment? Had an
experience where the story of your life was changed in a way that nothing would
ever be the same?
Dr. Megan Coffee had a
moment like that. She had a pretty great
life and a privileged upbringing.
Columbia High School, Harvard, Oxford – doctorate with projects in
mapping epidemics got her a fellowship in a joint venture between Harvard and
MIT in San Francisco. Brilliant, driven
woman with the world on her plate, right?
Then the earthquake in
Haiti happened in 2010. Dr. Coffee left
the lucrative and prestigious research position and went to treat the
inevitable diseases. She set up a
tuberculosis tent and began to work for free.
She writes, “my family and friends still think I’m a little crazy for
making this choice. But this is what my
life is supposed to be.”
No one Megan Coffee
treats would have been able to afford any health care at all, but because her
story was altered when she heard of the devastation in 2010, hundreds of people
have had world-class care. In fact, not
only is she doing this work now, but she has now trained a large group of local
volunteers, most of which survived tuberculosis because of her, who are
treating other people. The effects of
her choice are spreading out, affecting other people who in turn affect
others. The ripples are vast. 
Candice Lightner had a
different kind of life-changing moment.
On May 3rd, 1980, her 13 year old daughter was killed by a
repeat offender drunk driver. Later that
same year, she founded the organization Mothers Against Drunk Driving. This organization was instrumental in
raising awareness of impaired driving, raising the federal drinking age to 21,
and increasing DUI enforcement. If you
have ever been reminded that “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” or had a
designated driver, your life may have been impacted by Candice Lightner.
Candice responded to an
unthinkable tragedy by re-focusing her life.
Who knows how many others have been helped by that re-focus. How many other young girls did she save by
making the roads safer? How many of us have not experienced a tragedy that
otherwise we might have because of her dedication.
We have all kinds of
stories. Stories that we are born into,
stories that others tell us or that we tell ourselves – stories that are good
or bad, freeing or enslaving, filled with truth or filled with avoidance of it. Redemption means that our stories are
re-written by God’s version. Redemption
is having a plot-line that is obviously going one way, but then God makes a
change that transforms a life.
The plot of our lives is
often reshaped by a moment. Maybe a
beautiful moment for which we feel grateful, and maybe a tragic moment that
leaves us devastated. In either of those
options we can feel out of control and helpless.
Dr. Megan Coffee’s story
is heroic and beautiful, but just imagine the moment when she first confronted
the immensity of poverty and devastation in Haiti. Think of what she had given up in that moment
of choice. Think of how alone she could
have felt.
And think, as well, of
Candice Lightner and the extreme tragedy of the loss of her daughter. I cannot even imagine the pain of that loss, the
out-of-control waves of grief. But for
both of these women, these singular, lonely moments were transforming
moments. They were moments of
redemption.
I will never say that
tragedy is God’s plan. But our God is
not a God of puppet-string manipulation of events, our God is a God of
redemption. A God who is present in the
choices and in the tragic events and in the braces that fly off of our legs and
let us run. And later, when we look
back, we can see God. Not just in that
moment, but in the life that we led before.
Even in a fictional character like Forrest Gump, we can see that God is
working in his loyal heart that loves his best friend unconditionally, long
before she tells him to run.
But even more so, after
the transforming moment, things get really exciting. THAT’S when Forrest inspires football teams,
gives many a sense of hope when he runs across the country, and even saves many
in Vietnam because he can run!
Redemption isn’t a
moment. Redemption is ongoing.
We see in the short passage
we read from Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, that redemption is an ongoing
story. A story about us, and a story
about God. A new story, that Paul says
is apart from the law but an ongoing story that had been witnessed to by the
law and all the prophets – an ongoing story about God’s wild and insistent
desire to create restoration and relationship with all of God’s created humans,
with no exceptions which would continue throughout history.
We all have our own
version of events. Our own narrative. We carry ideas around in our head about who
we are – and aren’t; the things we’ve done and whether those things will lead
to positive or negative consequences; our worth, our value, our ability to
impact those around us or the world.
For some people, the
stories are painful but so much a part of their identity that to let go of them
would be to lose a sense of self. Maybe
it is a narrative of abuse, or betrayal, or infidelity, or addiction – stories
of shame and guilt. Maybe it is a
narrative of anger – a tool used to feel powerful and in control. Some stories we tell ourselves are of
failures and mis-steps and a belief that on some deep level we are not good
enough.
Others might have
narratives in which they don’t need anyone, including God. A narrative in which they have everything
figured out, and are leading a pretty good life, thank you very much.
All of our narratives are
subject to re-writes by God.
We tell ourselves all
kinds of stories. But the thing about
the Gospel is that it confronts us with God’s version of our story.
In God’s version, our
narrative of self-sufficiency is confronted by the message that we need
God.
In God’s version, our
desire for “fairness” is confronted by God’s free gift of grace and God’s
abundant generosity for all people at all times.
In God’s version, our
desires for power are confronted by God’s desire for self-sacrifice.
In God’s version, our
grudges and our anger against others are confronted by God’s overwhelming mercy
and forgiveness toward us.
In God’s version, our
insecurities, anxieties and fears are confronted by God’s sure and certain
truth that we are loved – in spite of everything. In spite of everything we have done and in
spite of everything that has been done to us; God’s version of our story is one
of love, and redemption is when God replaces our narratives with that
version.
See, when God re-tells
our stories, it might be earth-shaking and sudden – but it might be quiet and
progressive. Redemption is seen
throughout our lives.
Maybe we have an
experience that forces us to accept our vulnerability and turn to God because
we have nowhere else – and maybe we slowly find that our self-reliance is
changing into God-reliance. Maybe we are
suddenly released from an old pain – and maybe we look back after a long time
and see that beauty has come from it in ways we never would have expected.
But what I know to be
certain is that regardless of the plotline or the characters, whether it comes
as an action flick, a contemplative drama, or even a comedy – when we wake up
to the idea that our big story has been changed – redeemed – we are transformed.
We have life and hope and joy.
And that’s when
Redemption gets real. That’s when we are
inspired to participate in God’s ongoing redemption.
That’s when we get our fingernails dirty and enter the lives of those who need us to share in the joy of redemption. We have not been transformed in order to enjoy our own shininess. We have been transformed in order to re-write the stories of others. To bring good news to the poor, to show freedom to those who are imprisoned, to help people to see new joy, and proclaim God’s outrageous love and grace in every way we can. Every way. Not safe ways, not just the ways in which we won’t get dirty. The risky ways that can leave you in a tuberculosis tent in Haiti, ready to bring redemption to an entire generation.
You and I – we have a
story to tell. An epic in which God is
redeeming us and re-telling our story daily.
We haven’t done anything to deserve it, and we couldn’t no matter how
much we wanted to.
A story of a love so
great that it would travel unimaginable distance, suffer any humiliation and
undergo any pain in order to offer that love to you and me.
A story in which fear and
rejection and hopelessness are no longer part of the plot.
A story in which we get
to choose our own adventure and decide how we will play out our own redemptive
love in the world in response to the love that Christ has offered us.
Our redemption through
Jesus Christ changes everything. The
entire narrative of not only our lives, but everyone’s throughout history. And when we recognize redemptive moments in
our lives, we can look across the rest of our lives and see how God has been
working in us always, every moment. What
a privilege we have, then, to participate in God’s re-writing of the stories of
others? To create stories of incredible
love and acceptance and healing.
How many lives will we
touch as the braces fly off and we live our new story?
Run, Forrest. Run!
Amen.
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