Sermons for the Month

Our God is not Stingy in Lavishing Love
DATE: July 16th, 2006
SERVICE: Sixth Sunday After Pentecost
TEXT: Ephesians 1:3-14
“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN

Lavish is an interesting word. As an adjective it describes that which is extravagant, abundant or unrestrained. King Louie the 14th had a lavish bathroom, with a bathtub made of pure gold that he entered via a bronze and marble staircase. Now that's lavish.
As a verb it describes actions that are generous, liberal and beyond what one might expect. A person might lavish praise or gifts or affection upon another person.
Lavish is a word that is associated with riches, with goodness. It would never be used to describe something negative. One does not lavish a person with criticism or disdain. Lavish is never about frugality. So, when we read in Paul's letter to the Ephesians that God has lavished the richness of his grace upon us it means that something extravagantly good has happened.
But perhaps, for a number of reasons, it's difficult for us to grasp the full import of that statement. For example, lavish is one of those words with which I struggle to identify. I think it's became I was raised by depression era sad Danes on one side and perfectionist Germans on the other.
Please know that I'm really not being critical. Instead I'm describing the reality of people who either were too preoccupied with life's challenges or too convinced that nothing was good enough to accept lavishness into their lives - either in the form of that which could be enjoyed or as words or actions that would convey that which was positive.
So, I have few memories of experiencing lavishness, but one of them is related to a friend of my grandmother's named Margaret Fredericksen. I know virtually nothing about her, but I have vague little girl memories of what struck me as lavishness in her home, and in her.
She was a spinster lady who lived in a big, old white house not far from our church. There were tall trees surrounding it, a sure indication on the Nebraska plains that it had been there for a long time. (I heard that after her death the house and all its contents were donated to the county for its museum.) In any case, she would occasionally have a tea party for her women friends and I accompanied my Grandma Hansen to these events.
Of course Grandma did not drive, so we were chaufered by Grandpa in the 1950 Buick that had the look and feel of a peaceful tank. I was little, younger than 10-years-old, wearing dresses with bows in the back and crinoline underskirts and buckle patent leather shoes.
Walking into her house was like going back in time a century or two. Miss Fredericksen always wore filmy, dark dresses with tiny belts, pearl-like buttons and an antique broach at her throat. Her shoes were those high laced ones with chunky heels that I don't think anyone manufactures any longer. She smelled like sweet bath powder.
Oh how I wish I had more than fleeting memories of her house. What comes to mind are lacy curtains and glass doorknobs and velvety fringed pillows. I can catch just a glimpse in my mind's eye of dark woodwork, ornate sliding doors between rooms and high filigreed bed boards. The bathroom had a claw-footed tub and a toilet of questionable flushing ability. In truth, the house probably was old and dusty and in need of repair, but that's not what I saw.
I saw the delicate china on the tea table and a bowl of sugar cubes with tiny tongs that allowed you to gingerly place them in your tea. I saw crystal bowls of white mints with gooey green centers. I saw figurines of elegant women with gold-edged skirts and parasols watching over the tea party from a shelf above us. And, I saw a woman who in many ways was bereft of life's joys and yet she lavished me with attention that was unheard of in my life.

She complimented my attire, commented on the blondness of my hair, extolled my good manners, asked about books I was reading and how my doll family was fairing. She let me wander around her house and touch pretty things. Miss Fredericksen made me feel special. She lavished love on me.
I regret that I didn't realize it before her death many years ago, so that I could have done some lavishing in return. Remembering Miss Fredericksen helps me to understand that word "lavish". She helps me to grasp a God who, to quote today's reading from Ephesians has:

Blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing

Chose us to be holy and blameless before him in love

Destined us for adoption as his children

Freely bestowed grace on us in the Beloved

Made known to us the mystery of his will

Marked us with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit

AND - Lavished the riches of his grace upon us.

There's no doubt that it's difficult for us to imagine what all that implies for us; how do we measure the richness of God's grace? The Apostle Paul certainly had some sense of it as he writes about the great, all-encompassing blessings that belong to the community of faith, and how they are all God's doing.

Perhaps he's able to do so because of his personal encounter with the risen Jesus. Or maybe he is drawing on stories of abundance from Jesus' life, including the extravagance of creating 180 gallons of fine wine at a wedding, and using a few fish and loaves to feed more than 5000 people until they were full. And, 12 baskets of food were left over. He could be remembering the healings, the raising of people from death to life and our Lord's words of forgiveness to those who by others' standards were undeserving of such a display of grace.
For whatever reason, he grasps the lavishness of God's love and the riches of God's mercy, all excessively given to US. If we could just internalize this great gift, we would be changed.
And, we would give the word "lavish" a new definition in the world; it would be used more often as a verb than an adjective. Lavish would no longer be that which people seek to possess - like Louie's gold bathtub - so that they have a fleeting sense of being special.
Instead it would be what people do, lavishing love, acceptance, mercy on one another in the same way that God has lavished it on us. Can you imagine such a thing, really? Visualize walking into the bank, or Marcs, or Giant Eagle, or Faith Lutheran Church with the intention of lavishing anyone you meet with the love of God.
Wouldn't they then, as was true of me as a child in Miss Fredericksen's house, be unable to see that which is imperfect and instead feel only goodness? And then, by the power of the Holy Spirit, the richness of God's love and mercy would become more accessible to them. Our God is not stingy or frugal, so since we have more grace, love and mercy than we need, since an extravagant amount has been showered upon us. That means we can be Miss Fredericksen for those who struggle with the idea that the word "lavish" applies to them.
AMEN