Elvis is Dead

​Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 16, Year B
August 22, 2021
 
The late columnist, humorist and author, Lewis Grizzard, once wrote a book entitled Elvis Is Dead, and I Don’t Feel So Good Myself.  While it was not great piece of literature, it was a funny take on nostalgia which, I would like to remind us is not what it used to be. 
 
I was reminded of his book as I read about the annual observation of Death Week at Elvis Presley’s Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee.  While I have made the pilgrimage to Graceland, and taken the Platinum Tour, Death Week goes to a whole different level.  Elvis fans show up in large numbers, bearing the August Memphis heat.  They dress up, hold candle light vigils, and on the fated day, make a somber walk to the eternal flame at the King’s gravesite to pay their respects.
 
For his eighth birthday, Elvis wanted a bicycle.  Coming from a poor family in Tupelo, Mississippi, there was no money for a bike.   Nevertheless, Elvis’s mother, Gladys splurged, spending $6.95 on a small guitar.  That changed everything.  Thank Gladys!
 
I am an Elvis fan because he was a fascinating blend of talent, opportunity, and a case study in how fame ravages all naiveté.   Elvis was a connector, a bridge builder, and an unexpected phenomenon.  He crossed rigid boundaries of class, race, musical genre, fame, and family.  His favorite place at Graceland was the kitchen, where he and his friends ate peanut butter and banana sandwiches.  Don’t knock ‘em til you have tried ‘em!  For sure, young Elvis had a rhythm all his own, moving those hips like nobody had done before.  His style was both ecstatic and scandalous, like most big changes.
 
Now, I do not want to go into a psychosocial or theological analysis of fandom, but most of us have time bound touchstones in our life such as music.  Whether that music is Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan, Beyonce, or Taylor Swift, we connect certain soundtracks to important times in our lives.  The Texas folk singer, Nanci Griffith, died this week, and as I listened to her catalogue of music, I remembered many good times in my life.  I remembered some hard times in life too.  Most of all, I heard the poetry and rhythm of seeing and feeling deeply.  Of course, Nanci was no Elvis.  She did not have the flash, but her art is a touchstone all the same.
 
When Lewis Grizzard wrote about Elvis Death, he was both philosophical and wickedly funny.  Yet, even among the laughter, there was a well-articulated grief about love always including some loss along with it.  Time does not stand still.  People age.  All things fade. Then world presses in on us, and it is hard to make sense of it.
 
This has been a hard week.  As the virus resurges, people are frightened, suffering, and angry.  As disaster after disaster strikes Haiti, people are frightened, suffering, and angry.  As Afghanistan implodes and, people are frightened, suffering, and angry.  Fires continue to burn.  Tempers are hot all around.  Human fragility is on full display.  It doesn’t help that much of the public energy in response is to focus on blame, on self-interest, and rage.  None of that will be helpful.
 
To be a Christ follower is helpful, but it is difficult too.  It is hard to shake of the fight or flight instincts embedded in our DNA.  It is hard to shake a sort of globalized anxiety that leaves us suspicious, accusatory, and just plain mad.  Jesus’ Way asks that we shake off the dust of the world, and follow a new path where unity overcomes estrangement, forgiveness heals guilt, and joy conquers despair.   While all that sounds good, it is really hard to do.  Our hearts and minds are full.
 
We come to a serious inflection point in John’s Gospel today.  Speaking through the metaphors of body and blood, Jesus tells his followers that it is the “Spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.”  Wait, what.  John started this whole thing out saying the “Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.”  Now the flesh is useless?  Hardly.  The flesh he refers to is the earthy kind: the finite and shot lived mercy of humanity versus the infinite mercy of the Creator.  Jesus own physical body is a container for God’s Spirit.  His fleshy, time bound, earthy body will not permanent.  It is the Spirit’s ongoing life that animates a new and eternal body that goes way beyond skin and bones.
 
“This teaching is difficult,” his disciples respond, “who can accept it?”  It is difficult for us too, requiring as complete reframing of our well-worn assumptions and instincts.  Sadly, many strike camp and take off.  They do not want to go the Way of love and peace.  They close the door on this Son of God business, but Jesus leaves it open.
 
He asks Peter, “do you want to leave too?”  And good ole Peter, the one who always addresses the elephant in the room, says “where would I go?  You have the words of life beyond just this life and we have come to believe that you are the Holy One of God.”  Of all of Peter’s great proclamations, this ranks highly and pushes us deeper into faith.
 
If not with Jesus and God’s Word of life, where will we go?  To the altar of self-help?  To the comfortable echo chambers of tribe or party?  To the competing gods of exclusion, self-righteousness, and material idolatry?  That might be easier and more comforting, but in the end, those are empty calories of spiritual nourishment over against the Bread of Life. 
 
All week some lyrics from my musical touchstone, Nanci Griffith, have rung in my soul.  “It’s a hard life, it’s a hard life, it’s a very hard life.  It’s a hard life wherever you go.  But if we poison our children with hatred, then the hard life is all they’ll know.”
 
We may not feel so good right now, and with good reason.  It is ok to be full, overwhelmed, and upset.  God does not call us to permanent positivity, or to wall off suffering.  God calls us to keep love alive, even in the face of loss.  There may not be enough water in our bucket to put out the fires, or quench all the massive thirst for justice.  But we can use our bucket to cool things off, to help somehow or some way no matter how small or simple.  Then, where will we go?  Not off alone and empty, but back to the deep well of the Word of Life --  that is God -- to refill, to refresh, and renew… the steadfast and ever-present Spirit within us.  Amen.