A tragedy, and a mission

by Rev. Andrew R. Geib

The past two weeks have been some of the more difficult I’ve had in my nearly ten years of being a pastor.  A brief text from Shirley Sanders last Tuesday afternoon, turned phone call, broke the news that one of our long-time Boy Scouts here at St. James had died by suicide earlier that morning. 

A young man, a child who had just weeks before graduated from Gettysburg High School, where he was a four-year participant in the JROTC program, ran track and field, swam, and played soccer.  A black belt at Dubb’s Karate.  An Eagle Scout, as I’ve already said, here at St. James.  A grandson.  A brother.  A son.  And, of course, that which defines each of us above everything else, a beloved child of God. 

After talking with Shirley, I immediately called Adam, who was away at Work Camp with some of our high school youth, part of Troop 79.  From there, I spent the next several days on and off the phone with Scout leaders and family members, as well as people here at St. James – friends of the family – listening as they tried to make sense of what had taken place, and trying to make sense of it myself. Asking those questions we ask at such times…  How could this have possibly happened?  The countless whys and if onlys.  It wasn’t long before the phone call from Monahan’s came, asking if I would officiate over the graveside service.

As I sat with one of the grandmothers to talk about the service, with tears watering her eyes, she painted a picture of the child she had helped to raise from the time he was born.  Gentle and kind, with a desire to make the world a better place.  Hard working.  A lover of all things history.  An athlete and a natural leader.  A safe place for his brother.  A boy, as described in his obituary, who was the light of their lives.  Yet, one who struggled with anxiety and depression.  Who, in a moment of apparent hopelessness, unable to see any other way out, found his own… 

This weekend’s gospel is given the title, The Mission of the Seventy.  It is a text unique to Luke.  Both Matthew and Mark record the sending out of the Twelve.  While our lectionary skips verses 12-15 and ends at verse 20, leaving the final four verses for next week, the unit as a whole is divided into five subunits – the instruction of the seventy, woes upon those who reject them, the return of the seventy-two, a prayer of thanks, and a blessing.

So, the seventy are given their instruction, their mission – to go ahead in pairs gathering people from every town and place… from every nation under heaven… that all the world would come to know the message of peace Jesus came to bring.

With their mission clearly defined, Jesus goes on to speak of the woes that will come to those who reject them – the distress that awaits those who fail to respond genuinely to the message his disciples bring… who fail to respond appropriately to the gift of peace he has come to offer…   “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

In completing their mission – in proclaiming this message of peace in Jesus’ name and calling others to do the same – Luke records that the seventy returned with joy.  Though their joy is misplaced. It is rooted in their success, their achievement.  “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!”  So, Jesus reminds them what rejoicing should really be about.  Not their success, but God’s. “…do not rejoice at this… but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” 

With this, Jesus prays for and blesses them.

As I stood by the grave this past Tuesday morning, listening yet again to family and friends share memories of this 18-year-old boy gone way too soon, my mind raced about what I could possibly say to bring a glimpse of hope in a time of overwhelming hopelessness.  What do you say when there are no words to be said?   To parents and grandparents who just lost the one they held in their arms?  To siblings who just lost their brother?  To aunts and uncles, cousins, and friends?  What do you say?  The same struggle I found myself in as I met with our Scout Troop and their parents later that evening over pizza in our gathering space. 

Did you know that a quick Google search reports that suicide is one of the leading causes of death in the United States?  Did you know that?  Not health conditions.  Not car accidents.  Not one form of uncurable disease or another.  Not old age.  Suicide.

According to the CDC, it claimed the lives of over 49,000 Americans in 2023 alone, making it the second leading cause of death for individuals between the ages of 10-14, and the third among those 15-24.  Why? 

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration reported that over 33% of people between the ages of 18 and 25 experienced mental, behavioral, or emotional health issues in the same year.  40% of high school students, 40%, reporting the same – that they experience “persistent feelings of hopelessness” – with over 20% having seriously considered suicide.  Trends that continued in 2024 and don’t appear to be going away…

In reaching out to Gettysburg School District this past week, I learned that we’ve had at least six deaths by suicide within our Middle and High Schools since 2019.  One a year…  With even more throughout the county… 

So, my heart has been heavy the past couple of weeks.  And as if burying a young person isn’t difficult enough, who died, at least in part because of mental health struggles, as I stood by his grave, our elected officials voted to strip away $12.5 billion of funding directed towards mental health services across our country.  $1 billion of which is designated specifically for school-based mental health services.  And nearly $1 trillion from Medicaid – the single largest payer for mental health treatment in the U.S., deeming such support as a “misuse of funds”… as “inappropriate”… 

As Jesus speaks of peace in this weekend’s gospel, Luke records the Greek word εἰρήνη (eirēnē).  A significant word in the Bible, especially throughout the New Testament, it carries a far broader meaning than just the absence of conflict.  It encompasses perfect harmony with God and neighbor, with creation.  A perfected state of well-being – flawless and pure.  A state of wholeness.   A freedom from worry.  The fostering of unity rooted in love across divides.  The blessing that flows from God to the faithful… that is to flow from the faithful into others, that they too would come to experience it…  Peace…

So, we have been given our instruction – our mission.  Go ahead, side by side with one another, gathering people from every town and place… from every nation under heaven… that all the world would come to know the peace that Jesus came to bring.

Set judgment aside.  Stay humble.  Eat and drink with those you meet.  And share the Good News through word and deed.  When you are wronged, do as St. Paul writes and restore your transgressor in a spirit of gentleness.  Bear one another’s burdens.  And do not grow weary in doing what is right, whenever you have the opportunity, working for the good of all.  Be in harmony with God and with those you meet along the way – with all that God has created.  Set people free from worry as best you can.  Foster the things of unity and love.  And reflect those better qualities of our lost Scout – fostering a desire to make the world a better place. 

For God in Christ died and rose that all the world would experience the peace that surpasses all understanding.  Our hope and highest joy.  For this, we rejoice.  In peace, the kingdom of God has come near, and our names have been written in heaven.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Pastor Andrew is Lead Pastor at St. James Lutheran Church, Gettysburg.
This is the sermon he shared with the parish on Sunday. It is reprinted here with his permission.