Service of Gratitude November 22, 2009 “Giving Thanks” Reverend Michael D. Powell Luke 17:11-16

I’ve only ridden in an ambulance one time in my life, but it’s a vivid memory. It was about twenty years ago, when I’d gone to a special workshop at the Alton L. Collins Retreat Center, out near Estacada. My New Testament professor, Walter Wink, was offering the retreat with his wife, Joan, who was a dancer. Our time was split pretty evenly between very heady and spiritually stimulating theological discussions with the professor, and very active, physically exhilarating creative movement exercises with the professor’s wife. I know that sounds like a bizarre combination, but let me give you an example. The one I remember most was when we studied the passage from Romans 8, about how “the spirit intercedes for us with groans (with sighs) too deep for words.” After we’d discussed it in detail, Joan had us get up, push back the chairs and spread out in the room, and then we began to move, to swing our arms and to sigh and groan as we called out our prayers. Someone would say, “For hungry people living under bridges,” and we’d groan and swoop with our bodies. Someone else would say, “For refugees and those caught up in the tragedy of war,” and we’d groan, sigh and swoop. It went on like that for about 15 minutes. None of us had ever prayed in so physical a fashion before.

It was, as you can well imagine, both physically and emotionally exhausting. Afterward we all sat down, cross legged, in a circle on the floor and talked a little more about what we’d experienced. And then we started to get up. That’s when it hit. Nobody in the group knew it, but I’d had an artificial hip put in just a year before, and when I started to get up I crossed my knee over the center meridian of my body, and threw it out of joint. A few of you here this morning have artificial joints. I don’t know if you’ve ever thrown one out before, but it’s definitely something to write home about. It is the most excruciating pain imaginable.

Now, of course, this being a very spiritual group of folks who had gathered for a retreat with a biblical scholar, several of them immediately suggested they lay hands on me and pray. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, or worse, unspiritual, but there’s only so much prayer you can take when you’ve got a dislocated hip. After about 15 seconds I said, “Thank you for the prayers but, dear God, could somebody please, just call an ambulance?” Someone ran to call 911. I tell this personal story for obvious reasons.

The ambulance had to come from Gresham, which was about a half hour away. I was loaded on a transport and taken to the hospital, where emergency room personnel were alerted and ready. I was put under by an anesthesiologist and the next thing I remember was waking up with my hip back in joint and Walter and June Wink standing over my bed. They offered to pray for me. I let them take all the time they wanted, and I was thankful!

But, here’s my confession, like the nine lepers in our gospel lesson this morning, I never thanked the ambulance drivers. Nor did I ever get to thank the doctors, nurses, anesthesiologist or other emergency room personnel. These people held my life in their hands during a painful ordeal, but they did it calmly, professionally, and with no expectation of thanks. They were just doing what they do so well, helping someone in crisis, responding to human need, and seldom if ever getting thanked for it. So now, twenty years later, I want to join ranks with that one poor Samaritan leper who returned to offer thanks for the healing he had received. And I am not alone. Nor is Lillis Larson alone in wanting to express her gratitude this morning to those who literally saved her life last July. Many of us here at Morningside have a tremendous debt of gratitude we owe to those of you who are First Responders. We all have stories we could tell, and during this season of Thanksgiving, we want to share our appreciation for all that you do for us, for our loved ones and for our community.

Like Lillis’, and like mine, many emergencies start with a call to 911. I received this email that I’d like to share from Communications Shift Supervisor, Brenda Faxon: “Hi, I'm Brenda Faxon with Willamette Valley 911.  I want to say THANK YOU for thinking about us.  We are often lost in the mix, mostly because we are heard but not seen.   I would personally love to attend the service but unfortunately have to work along with the primary call taker and the fire dispatcher on this call.  We just don't have the staffing to allow them to attend.  I am very glad to hear that the woman who was burned is doing well; I know it must be a long road to recovery.  I'm glad that we were able to assist in doing our part.” Those faceless, anonymous 911 operators, like Barbara Faxon, are the vital link that connects us with the Police, the Fire Department, the Ambulance and EMT’s.

I’m so thankful we have police officers here this morning. A lot of us may think that the police get their greatest satisfaction by catching the bad guys, and that’s definitely a part of it, but our own Fred Cooper, who worked as a policeman for many years, testifies that, at the end of the day, it’s often the successful search and rescue, offering critical assistance to someone in need, or bringing a crisis situation to a safe ending that makes it all worthwhile. The work of a police officer is often thankless, and yet it is no exaggeration to say that you literally put your lives on the line daily on our behalf. We owe you our deepest appreciation.

When tragedy struck at the Art Fair and Lillis Larson was badly burned, thankfully two off-duty First Responders, Bob Scheuble, from the Marion County Sherriff’s Department, and Scott Smith, an EMT with the Salem Fire Department, were at the adjoining booth and immediately leapt into action. Captain Ted Farr was also on the scene, as well as Rush Isham, from the Marion County Sheriff’s Department. As you have heard from Bob Renggli, Community Liaison for Rural/Metro Ambulance, EMT Ariel Doughman quickly arrived on the scene with her partner, Eric Augustus, a paramedic. They were responding to the 911 call and transported Lillis to the Salem Hospital ER. Rebekah Guenther, a paramedic, was already at the Art Fair on standby status at the First Aid Center when the accident occurred. She and her partner, Owen Kellis, another EMT, arrived on the scene following the off-duty personnel, Bob and Scott, who were first-on-scene.

There were so many wonderful and dedicated people involved in caring for Lillis in the Emergency Room, and if you’re here today I’m sorry we didn’t have your names in advance. As you know all too well, everything speeds up and becomes a little blurry in a crisis. We depend on you as professionals to remain calm and take care of us when we can’t take care of ourselves. Please know that you have our deepest gratitude. Chaplain David Watson, who worships at the United Church of Christ here in Salem, was on duty that day and has also helped get folks here for the service this morning. And, finally, there was the Life Flight team: Holly Love, an RN who is the Life Flight Oregon Outreach Manager, her flight partner, Val Beedell, an EMT, and Mark Clarke, the pilot. Even though Val’s here this morning, I want to read her response to our invitation: “Thank you for the invitation to attend this special Service of Gratitude. I am so happy to hear that Lillis Larson is doing well and I would love to attend your event . . . I will come wearing my flight suit, so I won’t be hard to miss. It is always a joy to be able to celebrate a positive outcome of something tragic, so thank you for organizing such a special event.”

We live in a dangerous, broken world, and a lot of people need emergency help, comfort and healing. We’re going to close our service this morning by singing Shalom. The word Shalom means peace, but it's more than that. Shalom is healing, and it is wholeness. Shalom is healing love in action, and it's not enough for us to celebrate a private shalom, we must share it with a world that is crying out for healing and for peace. There is so much suffering and brokenness in the world, and there are so many people who need the touch of shalom. Thanks be to God for these First Responders, these police officers and Emergency Service personnel who have answered the high and holy calling of being peacemakers, healers and care providers in a world that so desperately needs them.

Thursday is Thanksgiving. It’s only a one-day holiday, but what a difference a day makes. So much can happen, and there's so much to be thankful for. I want to close with this. It’s a reflection that made the rounds after September 11^th, and it is a reminder of just how precious life is, and how tragedy has the power to draw us together, realizing just how much we need one another, and especially those who are trained to respond during a crisis. Remember the time:

On Monday, we e-mailed jokes. On Tuesday, we did not.

On Monday, we were fussing about prayer in school. On Tuesday, we would have been hard pressed to find a school where someone

was not praying.

On Monday, our heroes were athletes. On Tuesday, we re-learned who the real heroes are.

On Monday, there were people trying to separate us by race, sex, color, and creed. On Tuesday, we were all holding hands.

On Monday, we were irritated that our rebate checks had not arrived. On Tuesday, we gave money away gladly to people we had

never met.

On Monday, we were upset that we had to wait 5 minutes in a fast food line. On Tuesday, we stood in line for 3 to 5 hours to give

blood for the dying.

On Monday, we argued with our kids to clean up their rooms. On Tuesday, we couldn't get home fast enough to hug our kids.

On Monday, we went to work as usual. On Tuesday, we went to work, but some of us didn't come home.

On Monday, we had families. On Tuesday, we had orphans.

On Monday, September 10th, life felt routine. On Tuesday, September 11th, it did not.

Life is a gift. Never take love for granted. Thanks be to God, and to these servants of God. Amen