This sermon was heard at The Federated Church on Sunday August 21, 2016, the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time.
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Reading Paul’s epistles to the churches is a lot like reading a Jeopardy board. The board is filled with answers and the contestants come up with the right questions. His first letter to the church at Corinth contains the answers to questions from that congregation which are still used. The latter part of Chapter 14 deals with answers about worship.
Starting at verse 26, Paul gives instructions about psalms, doctrines, tongues, revelations, and interpretations and their use in worship. The verse ends saying that the purpose of these things is to edify, to build up the Church. Through verse 39, Paul goes into who can, who must, and who mustn’t participate in worship. He also speaks to propriety in worship. He sums up his talk in verse 40 which I share with you from the King James because it cuts to the chase, “Let all things be done decently and in order.”
There is a joke among Presbyterians that this verse is tattooed on us before leaving seminary. Actually Presbyteries quit mandating the tattoo in the early 80’s. (Small joke, very small.) But I say this because pastors, especially freshly minted pastors, often get wound a little tight. Everything has to be just so… I was a basket case on my first Easter Sunday in the pulpit. If I knew then what I know now. A couple of years later, I was so comfortable in worship that on a Sunday when preaching on “good gifts” my children’s sermon included me taking a bite out of a Milk Bone brand dog biscuit.
Just so you know, you will never find a Milk Bone in the Communion tray replacing our traditional wafer, and that is not a joke.
I imagine all denominations have their own stories about “decently and in order” and today we hear one where Jesus is the star of the story.
We begin with a woman. There isn’t much we know about this woman. There is much we assume, but not much we know. We know she has what the King James calls “a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift up herself.” While the NIV’s language may be more accurate, “she was bent over,” there is a poetic quality to being “bowed together” which captures her plight better than “bent over.”
We really know nothing else about her. She could be in her late 20’s, her back bowed because of an accident. She could be in her 30’s and bowed from childbirth and work. She could be older and with these same conditions and have a disease like arthritis. We know so little about her, she could have a birth defect and this eighteen year “spirit of infirmity” may be visited upon an eighteen-year-old.
There is no talk of other family. Is she a teen? Are there children? Are they young or adult? Is she a respected woman, a real “Proverbs 31” gal whose body has paid the price? Is she a widow? We know nothing. What do we know?
We know this. Jesus was teaching on the Sabbath in one of the synagogues. The crippled woman was there. Jesus saw her. Jesus called her forward. Jesus said, “Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” Then he laid hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God. This we know. Then we get an earful from a synagogue leader who seems to have been a fan of Paul from his “decently and in order” Pharisee days.
Back to the King James, “And the ruler of the synagogue answered with indignation, because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath day, and said unto the people,” Notice his indignation is toward the people, not Jesus, “‘‘There are six days in which men ought to work: in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.’” The synagogue leader is doing what he’s supposed to be doing, keeping order in the assembly. If he doesn’t, worship doesn’t glorify God. Right?
Jesus made a rookie mistake, he’ll get a talking to in the coach’s office in the clubhouse after the game, but not in front of the press or the other players.
But Jesus isn’t going into the clubhouse. This is the second time in two weeks of readings Jesus has called people “hypocrites.” Last week he dropped “the H-Bomb” on the crowd who couldn’t tell what direction the wind was blowing. This week he drops it on religious leaders who think order is more important than relationship. Hypocrite is a word that’s bandied about often, especially these days, so what does it mean?
Random House tells us a hypocrite is somebody who pretends to have virtues, morals, religious beliefs, or principles that they don’t actually possess. Especially a person whose actions go against those stated beliefs. Another slightly different nuance is someone whose public persona doesn’t match their private attitudes.
In biblical Greek it literally means to judge or to decide from under. Not very helpful, is it. It’s because it’s an idiom, an expression, one that came from the theater. It means “to act from under a mask” like the Greeks did in the theater, using masks so you could see what character they were portraying. Another way to approach that, two-faced. That’s what Jesus was calling the people when he was calling them hypocrites. He was calling them two-faced.
Jesus is saying that it’s time for the church to take the lead and make a difference in the lives of the people who need the Church to make a difference. It’s time for the church to take the lead and make a difference in the lives of the people who need the Church to make a difference.
There’s more flooding in South Louisiana. The Disciples of Christ and Presbyterian Disaster Assistance are already on the ground in South Louisiana, and do you know why? It’s because they’re still down there because of Hurricane Katrina. There is still so much to do post-Katrina that the people of God are still on the Gulf taking care of God’s business. They are there ready to meet the challenges of this new crisis. What they need is reloading.
Our denominations are working with disaster assistance in Syria and throughout the Middle East. They are in Nepal after the latest round of earthquakes. They are working in Hungary, Austria, Germany, Sweden, and other nations to help settle refugees. Here in Oklahoma they have helped provide emergency relief and helped rebuild after tornadoes and ice storms. They do this seven days a week, even on the Sabbath.
Last week our Gospel reading talked about how Jesus would separate families. Jesus wields a most unlikely sword, a sword of love, separating the people of faith. Today he separates those who only serve in robes from those who serve with their heads, hearts, and hands. Jesus shames the leaders, all powerful, affluent men. They untie their livestock so they can get water on the Sabbath, but they disgrace a sister, a daughter of Abraham who has been bowed under crippling pain for eighteen years. They will free their animals, but not their own people.
Eighteen years of crippling pain, Jesus sees her and “Plan A” takes a back seat to grace and mercy. “Decently and in order” get put on the back burner and a relationship is kindled instead. Jesus could have gone along with the liturgy, but his spirit is grieved by the condition of one of his lambs. She is lifted to a place she never imagined being, a place known only to those who know Jesus.
We end hearing, “When he said this, all his opponents were humiliated, but the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing.” We have to be careful with this though. Forgive my foray into the political, but there’s a problem with people who delight in gaffes, when someone powerful is disgraced. There are people who wait for the humiliation and find elation. They find joy in others’ embarrassment. They delight in shame. They don’t find relief or relationship.
What our reading says is “the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing.” They were not delighted in the humiliation of the powerful, but in the lifting of the infirm. They found joy in the building of the synagogue through the new work of Jesus Christ, the work of relationship and service. Joy was found edifying the body as Paul would tell the church in 1Corinthians. As tempting as it may be to delight in the shame of others, it never glorifies God.
You know, there’s a funny thing about Jeopardy. The questions the contestants give aren’t always the ones that go with the answer Alex Trebek reads. We read Paul’s answers, but we really don’t know the Corinthians’ questions, just like we don’t know exactly who the bowed together woman is. What we know is Jesus, the fully human and fully divine Lord of all chose that moment, stopping all that was seemingly holy, to make a holy moment of gracious connection.
It was out of everybody’s comfort zone, I imagine the leader, the woman, and the crowd wondered what Jesus was doing. I imagine the woman was both physically and emotionally uneasy coming forward too. But she did, and she received the blessing of encountering God. Let us rejoice! It is good to worship decently and in order, but we can’t let decency and order become a straightjacket that prevents us from encountering God and being healed.
Well they say time loves a hero,
but only time will tell,
If he's real, he's a legend from heaven,
If he ain't he was sent here from hell.
Written by Bill Payne & Paul Barrere and recorded by Little Feat.
I know of one hero, since people have considered him a hero for almost 2,000 years he could be considered a legend, or rather, He could be considered a legend.
Welcome to my sermon blog.
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Sunday, October 25, 2009
What Do You Want Me to Do for You?
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Lakin, Kansas on Sunday October 25, 2009, the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
Job 42:1-6, 10-17
Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
“Job then answered the Lord.” Now there’s a statement that takes some guts; Job answered the Lord. Of course, Job asked quite a question himself. Job asked “Why?” Why did he lose all of his earthly possessions? Why did he lose his family, his seven sons and his three daughters? Why, why, why?
Now, Job didn’t start off asking these questions. In the beginning, after losing everything, Job’s wife offers this advice: “Curse God and die.” “Get it over with,” she says. “Just do it” the good folks at Nike tell us.
Job curses too, Job curses creation, specifically his creation. “Let the day perish in which I was born.” He curses the day of his conception, “Let that day be darkness.” But curse God, no.
Job had led a blameless life, fearing God and turning away from evil. He made offerings not only for himself and his wife; he made them on behalf of his children just in case they slipped. There is no one like him. When the accuser comes before the Lord after “going to and fro on the earth” the Lord asks, “Have you considered my servant Job?”
Job was blameless. Not without sin, but he was blameless; and he knew this. What we call “the gospel of prosperity” is nothing new. Do good, get rewarded. When it gets taken away, it’s obviously because of something you’ve done. This is the argument Job’s friends are making through the text. The pity is that Job gets suckered into this argument.
Job begins to argue with his friends with the wisdom of Proverb 26:4-5:
Do not answer fools according to their folly,
or you will be a fool yourself.
Answer fools according to their folly,
or they will be wise in their own eyes.
Job begins to argue back with his friends, answering them according to their folly. It is then that Job asks “Why, why, why?”
Finally, nearing the end of the book of Job, the Lord asks Job a question. The Lord demands and the Lord asks:
“Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you declare to me.
Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
Job asks “Why?” He wants to hear the Lord God explain what's going on. He wants to know, “Why me?” And the Lord tells Job to “Cowboy up.” Understanding the work and the will of God are outside of Job's pay grade, and he had better get used to it. “Why?” The answer to that one's just not in the cards.
Job comes to the conclusion that what God says is true:
I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Job knows that some things are too wonderful for him to know.
Job had lost everything in his life, everything which the culture tells him is important. He had lost his wealth and his children. These things were returned to him, and returned in abundance. He is so grateful that he even gives his daughters a full share of inheritance along with their brothers, something unheard of in that day and time.
The Christian singer Michael Card discerns one thing more that Job receives, or rather, one more thing that Job never lost. In all things, in all times, and in all trials, Job is never outside of the presence of the loving God. Job is never outside of the protection of the grace and peace of the Lord.[1] Even when his life is the bleakest, even when all Job has is sackcloth, ash, and friends like these; Job is in the presence of God.
Bartimaeus was a blind beggar. We know so very little about Blind Bartimaeus that we don't even know his name! As Mark points out, Bartimaeus is the Son of Timaeus. In Aramaic, Bartimaeus means Son of Timaeus. We know so little about him that we don't even know his name; we know his father's name, but not his.
Bartimaeus is not a terribly popular man. He sits on the road outside of Jericho on the way to Jerusalem. Jericho was a sort of a resort town and the road to Jerusalem was a busy place. This is where he begged. When you drive in a big city and see people at a stop light using a squeegee to clean windshields for money, on the first century road between Jericho and Jerusalem, that would be Bartimaeus.
Bartimaeus hears the commotion and finds out who is coming, Jesus of Nazareth. This is the last healing miracle found in Mark's gospel, so we can take it for granted that by this time in his earthly ministry the word had been passed up and down the road. Jesus of Nazareth is coming and he heals the sick.
“Jesus, Son of David,” Bartimaeus cries, “have mercy on me!” And the people rebuke him; they demand he shut up. The obvious reason the people tell Bartimaeus to be quiet is that they don't want to disturb the Rabbi while he is on the road. But there is another possible reason too. While at this point in Mark's gospel there is no question, no doubt about Jesus’ messianic identity, this is the first time anyone uses the royal title, “Son of David.”
To the religious elite, this is like calling a First Lieutenant fresh out of ROTC “General,” but with eternal overtones. The people were on their way to Jerusalem for the Passover, there were bound to be religious leaders along the way with the group. We know all to well that not everyone considered Jesus to be God with us, so suddenly a blind man sees more than the Scribes and Pharisees hope or imagine. I expect that there are a lot of people trying to tell the blind man to close his mouth along with his eyes.
Can you imagine the looks when Jesus told him to come down? Jesus stops the crowd in their tracks and says, “Call him here.” The good people along the route tell Bartimaeus “Take heart, get up, he's calling you.”
I like this translation, “take heart.” The New American Standard Bible renders it a little differently. It says, “Take courage.” These two together go a long way toward what the original language intended. The New International Version and the New Living Translation rendering of “Cheer up” in this passage doesn't do it for me. Bartimaeus sits on the road all day begging from strangers and travelers. He learns Jesus is coming and invokes the royal name of God to address him. He will not be quiet when the crowd demands it. It seems of Bartimaeus’ needs, he doesn’t need cheering up.
I guess another way to translate this is “Cowboy up.”
Bartimaeus throws off his cloak, sprang to his feet and comes to Jesus.
I grew up in the Kansas City area. One of the places I would frequent during the more misspent parts of my youth was Westport. While running around there, I met a man named Curtis. Curtis was a homeless man, burned over half of his body. His face was scared; he had just one arm, and a pronounced limp.
Whenever I would see Curtis, regardless of the season, I would see him wearing a parka. That parka had all of his worldly possessions. One night, a kind of a chilly night, particularly late in the night, or early in the morning if you will, I saw him sleeping in a doorway, using his parka for cover.
Bartimaeus' cloak served the same purpose as Curtis' parka. It kept the sun off of him during the days and kept him warm at night. It held his worldly possessions. Living on the road in ancient times is not so different from living in the streets in midtown Kansas City, both of them could be dangerous places, even for those familiar with the ins and outs of living there. To lose his cloak would have been a huge loss in the life of a man with out vision or even his own name.
Bartimaeus throws off his cloak and comes to Jesus. The odds of it being there when he got back to it were poor; very, very poor. Yet Bartimaeus is willing to throw away all he has for the hope of seeing Jesus.
Jesus asks “What do you want me to do for you?”
The first request from Bartimaeus had all ready been asked, “Have mercy on me!” This request is granted. Jesus shows him mercy. In a world where we see just a blind beggar, in a world where we don't even know the man's name, in a world where we hope the crazy screaming man will just be quiet; Jesus shows him mercy. Jesus calls Bartimaeus to him. The Lord our God calls the dirty, smelly, poverty stricken, blind man to his side.
Jesus gives Bartimaeus the most important thing anyone can give someone, dignity. Jesus welcomes this man who society shuns into his holy presence with out condition. Unconditional love, love he cannot earn. Bartimaeus receives grace and mercy.
Then Bartimaeus asks for the gift of sight. “Rabbi, My teacher, let me see again.” No frills, no spitting in the mud, it is the faith of Bartimaeus that makes him well, faith that in Jesus Christ all things are possible. By grace through faith Bartimaeus receives the gift of sight. Faith that in Jesus Christ, even when the people around us say we have nothing, not even a name, we have a place in the arms of God.
Job had everything taken from him, Bartimaeus left it behind voluntarily. The results for both of these men was the same, they had their vision restored. They were both able to see the light of God at work in the world, and in their own lives. Job had to learn what this truly meant through the loss of everything. Bartimaeus left everything in his cloak on the side of the road just to follow the vocation laid before him on a dusty road to Jerusalem.
The Lilly Foundation funded a project to study evangelism in the seven mainline American churches using denominational records and followed up with over 1,200 interviews. One of the things they discerned is that the people who have never heard the gospel can be split into different populations.
One of the nine groups who need the Good News of Jesus Christ is those who are “far from the church” and are “hurting.”[2] These are people who are burned out by congregational conflict. These are people who find the theology of their youth to be oppressive. These are people who have experienced tragedy and for whom the church has provided no comfort or support. These are the people who have been judged and shunned by the church.
Job is one of these people. Job was met by his friends and received the holy counsel, “So, what did you do to deserve this fate from the Lord?” Bartimaeus is one of these people. Because of his blindness, he is so shunned by his people that we don’t even have his name. What we have in these stories, what we have to share with the world is that when the world is at its worst the Lord God does not forsake us. The Lord God never abandons us. The Lord God never deserts us. The Lord asks “What do you want me to do for you?”
When the world turns its back on us, the Lord is at our side. The Lord calls us. The Lord lets us see in a world blind to the work of God. This is our call, this is our vocation; we must again learn to speak so that those who will hear us will understand we have something to say. And what a thing we have to say. What a thing we have to share. We believe that faith makes a difference in our lives. We believe that we are saved by faith through grace.
As the body of Christ, we are called to be the presence of God in the world. In this truth, we must recall the teaching of Aquinas, “Share the gospel, use words when necessary.”
When the world is at its worst, the Creator is at our side; Emmanuel, God with us. And by this, we are called to take God’s word of grace and peace into the world, using words when we must.
[1] Card, Michael, “A Sacred Sorrow.” Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2005, pages 41-45
[2] Reese, Martha Grace, “Unbinding the Gospel, Real Life Evangelism.” St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2008, page 90.
Job 42:1-6, 10-17
Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
“Job then answered the Lord.” Now there’s a statement that takes some guts; Job answered the Lord. Of course, Job asked quite a question himself. Job asked “Why?” Why did he lose all of his earthly possessions? Why did he lose his family, his seven sons and his three daughters? Why, why, why?
Now, Job didn’t start off asking these questions. In the beginning, after losing everything, Job’s wife offers this advice: “Curse God and die.” “Get it over with,” she says. “Just do it” the good folks at Nike tell us.
Job curses too, Job curses creation, specifically his creation. “Let the day perish in which I was born.” He curses the day of his conception, “Let that day be darkness.” But curse God, no.
Job had led a blameless life, fearing God and turning away from evil. He made offerings not only for himself and his wife; he made them on behalf of his children just in case they slipped. There is no one like him. When the accuser comes before the Lord after “going to and fro on the earth” the Lord asks, “Have you considered my servant Job?”
Job was blameless. Not without sin, but he was blameless; and he knew this. What we call “the gospel of prosperity” is nothing new. Do good, get rewarded. When it gets taken away, it’s obviously because of something you’ve done. This is the argument Job’s friends are making through the text. The pity is that Job gets suckered into this argument.
Job begins to argue with his friends with the wisdom of Proverb 26:4-5:
Do not answer fools according to their folly,
or you will be a fool yourself.
Answer fools according to their folly,
or they will be wise in their own eyes.
Job begins to argue back with his friends, answering them according to their folly. It is then that Job asks “Why, why, why?”
Finally, nearing the end of the book of Job, the Lord asks Job a question. The Lord demands and the Lord asks:
“Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you declare to me.
Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
Job asks “Why?” He wants to hear the Lord God explain what's going on. He wants to know, “Why me?” And the Lord tells Job to “Cowboy up.” Understanding the work and the will of God are outside of Job's pay grade, and he had better get used to it. “Why?” The answer to that one's just not in the cards.
Job comes to the conclusion that what God says is true:
I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Job knows that some things are too wonderful for him to know.
Job had lost everything in his life, everything which the culture tells him is important. He had lost his wealth and his children. These things were returned to him, and returned in abundance. He is so grateful that he even gives his daughters a full share of inheritance along with their brothers, something unheard of in that day and time.
The Christian singer Michael Card discerns one thing more that Job receives, or rather, one more thing that Job never lost. In all things, in all times, and in all trials, Job is never outside of the presence of the loving God. Job is never outside of the protection of the grace and peace of the Lord.[1] Even when his life is the bleakest, even when all Job has is sackcloth, ash, and friends like these; Job is in the presence of God.
Bartimaeus was a blind beggar. We know so very little about Blind Bartimaeus that we don't even know his name! As Mark points out, Bartimaeus is the Son of Timaeus. In Aramaic, Bartimaeus means Son of Timaeus. We know so little about him that we don't even know his name; we know his father's name, but not his.
Bartimaeus is not a terribly popular man. He sits on the road outside of Jericho on the way to Jerusalem. Jericho was a sort of a resort town and the road to Jerusalem was a busy place. This is where he begged. When you drive in a big city and see people at a stop light using a squeegee to clean windshields for money, on the first century road between Jericho and Jerusalem, that would be Bartimaeus.
Bartimaeus hears the commotion and finds out who is coming, Jesus of Nazareth. This is the last healing miracle found in Mark's gospel, so we can take it for granted that by this time in his earthly ministry the word had been passed up and down the road. Jesus of Nazareth is coming and he heals the sick.
“Jesus, Son of David,” Bartimaeus cries, “have mercy on me!” And the people rebuke him; they demand he shut up. The obvious reason the people tell Bartimaeus to be quiet is that they don't want to disturb the Rabbi while he is on the road. But there is another possible reason too. While at this point in Mark's gospel there is no question, no doubt about Jesus’ messianic identity, this is the first time anyone uses the royal title, “Son of David.”
To the religious elite, this is like calling a First Lieutenant fresh out of ROTC “General,” but with eternal overtones. The people were on their way to Jerusalem for the Passover, there were bound to be religious leaders along the way with the group. We know all to well that not everyone considered Jesus to be God with us, so suddenly a blind man sees more than the Scribes and Pharisees hope or imagine. I expect that there are a lot of people trying to tell the blind man to close his mouth along with his eyes.
Can you imagine the looks when Jesus told him to come down? Jesus stops the crowd in their tracks and says, “Call him here.” The good people along the route tell Bartimaeus “Take heart, get up, he's calling you.”
I like this translation, “take heart.” The New American Standard Bible renders it a little differently. It says, “Take courage.” These two together go a long way toward what the original language intended. The New International Version and the New Living Translation rendering of “Cheer up” in this passage doesn't do it for me. Bartimaeus sits on the road all day begging from strangers and travelers. He learns Jesus is coming and invokes the royal name of God to address him. He will not be quiet when the crowd demands it. It seems of Bartimaeus’ needs, he doesn’t need cheering up.
I guess another way to translate this is “Cowboy up.”
Bartimaeus throws off his cloak, sprang to his feet and comes to Jesus.
I grew up in the Kansas City area. One of the places I would frequent during the more misspent parts of my youth was Westport. While running around there, I met a man named Curtis. Curtis was a homeless man, burned over half of his body. His face was scared; he had just one arm, and a pronounced limp.
Whenever I would see Curtis, regardless of the season, I would see him wearing a parka. That parka had all of his worldly possessions. One night, a kind of a chilly night, particularly late in the night, or early in the morning if you will, I saw him sleeping in a doorway, using his parka for cover.
Bartimaeus' cloak served the same purpose as Curtis' parka. It kept the sun off of him during the days and kept him warm at night. It held his worldly possessions. Living on the road in ancient times is not so different from living in the streets in midtown Kansas City, both of them could be dangerous places, even for those familiar with the ins and outs of living there. To lose his cloak would have been a huge loss in the life of a man with out vision or even his own name.
Bartimaeus throws off his cloak and comes to Jesus. The odds of it being there when he got back to it were poor; very, very poor. Yet Bartimaeus is willing to throw away all he has for the hope of seeing Jesus.
Jesus asks “What do you want me to do for you?”
The first request from Bartimaeus had all ready been asked, “Have mercy on me!” This request is granted. Jesus shows him mercy. In a world where we see just a blind beggar, in a world where we don't even know the man's name, in a world where we hope the crazy screaming man will just be quiet; Jesus shows him mercy. Jesus calls Bartimaeus to him. The Lord our God calls the dirty, smelly, poverty stricken, blind man to his side.
Jesus gives Bartimaeus the most important thing anyone can give someone, dignity. Jesus welcomes this man who society shuns into his holy presence with out condition. Unconditional love, love he cannot earn. Bartimaeus receives grace and mercy.
Then Bartimaeus asks for the gift of sight. “Rabbi, My teacher, let me see again.” No frills, no spitting in the mud, it is the faith of Bartimaeus that makes him well, faith that in Jesus Christ all things are possible. By grace through faith Bartimaeus receives the gift of sight. Faith that in Jesus Christ, even when the people around us say we have nothing, not even a name, we have a place in the arms of God.
Job had everything taken from him, Bartimaeus left it behind voluntarily. The results for both of these men was the same, they had their vision restored. They were both able to see the light of God at work in the world, and in their own lives. Job had to learn what this truly meant through the loss of everything. Bartimaeus left everything in his cloak on the side of the road just to follow the vocation laid before him on a dusty road to Jerusalem.
The Lilly Foundation funded a project to study evangelism in the seven mainline American churches using denominational records and followed up with over 1,200 interviews. One of the things they discerned is that the people who have never heard the gospel can be split into different populations.
One of the nine groups who need the Good News of Jesus Christ is those who are “far from the church” and are “hurting.”[2] These are people who are burned out by congregational conflict. These are people who find the theology of their youth to be oppressive. These are people who have experienced tragedy and for whom the church has provided no comfort or support. These are the people who have been judged and shunned by the church.
Job is one of these people. Job was met by his friends and received the holy counsel, “So, what did you do to deserve this fate from the Lord?” Bartimaeus is one of these people. Because of his blindness, he is so shunned by his people that we don’t even have his name. What we have in these stories, what we have to share with the world is that when the world is at its worst the Lord God does not forsake us. The Lord God never abandons us. The Lord God never deserts us. The Lord asks “What do you want me to do for you?”
When the world turns its back on us, the Lord is at our side. The Lord calls us. The Lord lets us see in a world blind to the work of God. This is our call, this is our vocation; we must again learn to speak so that those who will hear us will understand we have something to say. And what a thing we have to say. What a thing we have to share. We believe that faith makes a difference in our lives. We believe that we are saved by faith through grace.
As the body of Christ, we are called to be the presence of God in the world. In this truth, we must recall the teaching of Aquinas, “Share the gospel, use words when necessary.”
When the world is at its worst, the Creator is at our side; Emmanuel, God with us. And by this, we are called to take God’s word of grace and peace into the world, using words when we must.
[1] Card, Michael, “A Sacred Sorrow.” Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2005, pages 41-45
[2] Reese, Martha Grace, “Unbinding the Gospel, Real Life Evangelism.” St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2008, page 90.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday June 28, 2009, the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
2Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 30
2Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Jesus had again crossed in the boat to the other side. This crossing represents Jesus coming back from the gentile side of the sea back to the Hebrew towns. While on the other side of the world, Jesus exorcised the demons from the Gerasene man known as Legion. He was called that because the demons that dwelt within him were as many as a Roman Legion. Jesus sent the demons into a herd of swine who promptly rushed down a steep bank into the sea where they were drowned.
The no longer demon possessed man wanted to join Jesus and his disciples across the way. Jesus told the man instead to “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” The man almost follows Jesus instructions, but instead of telling the people how much the Lord has done and the great mercy God has shown, he “began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him.”
So between the wise teachings on the Jewish side, the miraculous journey across the sea, and the loosing of a legion of demons into 2,000 head of swine in gentile territory, Jesus had established a name. Of course a great crowd had gathered around him as he came ashore.
Jesus is met by Jairus, a leader of the synagogue, who came and when he saw Jesus he fell at his feet and begged and cried for the life of his daughter. It makes me wonder why Mark’s gospel chose to focus on this man. Let’s face it, the multitude came to Jesus as he made landfall. There must have been dozens who fell at his feet begging dozens of supplications, crying in agony for their personal harsh circumstance. Yet, Jesus chose to go with this one man and his one request.
I wonder why scripture focused on this one man and this one request, but this is an answer we will never truly know. This is a question on the order of the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. Still, we do know this much. The angels dance on the head of a pin for the glory of God. So too, Jesus chose to go with this synagogue leader for the glory of God; and that’s enough of a reason.
Along the way, we have this second story, the story of the hemorrhaging woman.
According to ancient tradition, this bleeding was menstrual, making her as unclean as the demon possessed swine who just took a header. Her access to conventional society could have been denied. Whether this still applied in first century Palestine is debated by scholars,[1] but for the reader, it was a sign that she was on her own in the wilderness of her own blood.
She is without social standing, she has no one on earth, but she believes; no, she knows that if she can even touch his clothes she will be healed. And she is. “Daughter,” Jesus says, “your faith has made you well.” Dozens were pressing in on Jesus. The crowd was crushing in on him as he walked. Still, the only one who was touched by the power of Jesus was the one who believed something would happen when she touched him, even if it was just his cloak.
Again, I always wondered a couple of things about this healing. Assuming the purity law still applied to menstruating women, how in the world she could be out in polite society, much less in a crowd where she would be pressed to scores of others? Add the intentional touch of a man’s cloak and she is violating enough taboo to shame a Hollywood celebutant.[2] So why this story, why this outcome? Why of all the people who were in contact with the Lord was she the one touched by the power of Jesus? The only proper answer is the answer given for why this man and his daughter. The answer to “why?” is for the glory of God. To God goes the glory for her faith in the healing power of Jesus has made her well.
The troupe continues to the home of Jairus the synagogue leader. While Jesus is still speaking to the woman the people came and said “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” For Jesus, there is no trouble. “Do not fear, only believe.”
It was faith that healed the woman; it was her faith in the power of Jesus that made her well. The crowd knows what happened. Jairus knows what happened. Now Jesus calls on the temple leader not to fear, but to believe.
When Jesus and Jairus along with Peter, James and John arrive, the wailing has begun. The cries of sorrow at the death of the child are ringing like a claxon. In a shocking turn; they laugh when Jesus tells them to stop making a commotion; “The girl sleeps, she is not dead.” He then shoos the people from the room, he takes the girl by the hand and says “Talitha cum.” Get up little girl; and she does.
The thread common to these two miraculous healing stories is faith; faith that Jesus our Lord is able to do all things. We are called to share that faith. We are called to trust the Lord our God. But as we do, as we have faith and as we trust; we are constantly reminded that there is pain in our world.
I am not going to regale you with stories of pain and strife, neither from ancient times nor from ours. By detailing one, we leave behind hundreds of others. On the news we see the strife and discord in Iran only to diminish the spotlight on the happenings in Iraq and Afghanistan. The brutality taking place in Darfur only ends up reducing attention to Tibetan independence from China, the plight of ethnic Albanians in the Czech Republic, and ethnic Turks in northern Iraq.
It is enough to know the simple fact that pain is real, strife is real; death and injustice are real. Yet we are called to know that Christ is victorious over pain, strife, death, and injustice. He experienced these very feelings, these very pains; unto death, death upon the cross. Still, we can take solace that in this horror, there is one place for us to rest. One of the places we see this in scripture is from our psalm reading, today’s Call to Worship.
Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD;
LORD, hear my voice;
let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
I wait for you, O LORD; my soul waits for you;
in your word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD,
more than sentries for the morning,
more than sentries for the morning.
The psalm reminds us that the depths of human brutality know not only no physical bounds, but are as old as time itself. In the grasp of human brutality, there is one alone to whom we can turn, so we are to call to the Lord who will hear the voices of our supplication. As David laments the death of Jonathan, as Jesus hears the cries of Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman, as Jesus hears our cries of desperation, as we wait on the Lord more than sentries for the morning; in times of pain, in times of suffering; there is no other place for us to rest than in the arms of the ever-loving Lord of life. It is in God alone that we wait. This is where we wait because in God alone, in Christ alone, is victory.
There is blood and there are tears in our gospel reading. It has toil and sweat too. It reminds me of a famous line in a speech made by Winston Churchill in his first address to the British House of Commons on May 13, 1940 after his election as Prime Minister. I want to share with you the end of this speech:
I would say to the House, as I said to those who've joined this government: “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.”
We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory. Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival. Let that be realised; no survival for the British Empire, no survival for all that the British Empire has stood for, no survival for the urge and impulse of the ages, that mankind will move forward towards its goal.[3]
Churchill asks, “What is our aim?” “What is our goal?” Victory, that is our aim. And in Christ alone is victory. In Christ, through the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our Lord; in Christ alone is victory. The war Churchill waged was fought by sea, land, and air with ships, planes, and men. The war we wage is fought with love, grace, and the Cross of Christ.
The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming of Jesus Christ have set the pattern for the church and its mission. His life connects him to creation, and creation to him. His service commits the church to work for every form of well-being. His suffering makes the church sensitive to all sufferings so that it sees the face of Christ in our faces in every kind of need. His crucifixion discloses to the church God's judgment on our inhumanity and the awful consequences of its own complicity in injustice. In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming the church sees the promise of God's renewal of man's life in society and of God's victory over all wrong.[4]
We are called to faith. We are called to trust in the Lord our God. In the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our lives we are called to remember the blood, toil, tears, and sweat Jesus knew in his. We should remember that as God incarnate he could have risen above it all. Being fully divine, he could have dashed away any hint of suffering and pain. But being fully human, there is no avoiding the suffering of humanity, suffering unto death. Through this death and resurrection, his victory, and ours, is assured.
Churchill’s speech ended with this coda:
But I take up my task with buoyancy and hope. I feel sure that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, and I say, “Come then, let us go forward together with our united strength.”[5]
We claim the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit as we are called to go forward together with our united strength, united for the glory of God Almighty by God’s grace, peace, and justice.
When Jesus called on Jairus to believe, the words were meant for him alone. Yet this message of “believe” is one that needed to be known to the apostles, the disciples, and all of the followers of Jesus in every time and place. Believe in Christ. Believe in Christ’s victory. Believe in the power of God to reconcile all of creation to God’s own self.
[1] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, page 1817
[2] A portmanteau of celebrity and debutant
[3] Churchill, Winston, Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat. http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Blood,_Toil,_Tears_and_Sweat, delivered May 13, 1940, retrieved June 21, 2009.
[4] Paraphrase from the Confession of 1967
[5] Ibid, Churchill
2Samuel 1:1, 17-27
Psalm 30
2Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
Jesus had again crossed in the boat to the other side. This crossing represents Jesus coming back from the gentile side of the sea back to the Hebrew towns. While on the other side of the world, Jesus exorcised the demons from the Gerasene man known as Legion. He was called that because the demons that dwelt within him were as many as a Roman Legion. Jesus sent the demons into a herd of swine who promptly rushed down a steep bank into the sea where they were drowned.
The no longer demon possessed man wanted to join Jesus and his disciples across the way. Jesus told the man instead to “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” The man almost follows Jesus instructions, but instead of telling the people how much the Lord has done and the great mercy God has shown, he “began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him.”
So between the wise teachings on the Jewish side, the miraculous journey across the sea, and the loosing of a legion of demons into 2,000 head of swine in gentile territory, Jesus had established a name. Of course a great crowd had gathered around him as he came ashore.
Jesus is met by Jairus, a leader of the synagogue, who came and when he saw Jesus he fell at his feet and begged and cried for the life of his daughter. It makes me wonder why Mark’s gospel chose to focus on this man. Let’s face it, the multitude came to Jesus as he made landfall. There must have been dozens who fell at his feet begging dozens of supplications, crying in agony for their personal harsh circumstance. Yet, Jesus chose to go with this one man and his one request.
I wonder why scripture focused on this one man and this one request, but this is an answer we will never truly know. This is a question on the order of the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. Still, we do know this much. The angels dance on the head of a pin for the glory of God. So too, Jesus chose to go with this synagogue leader for the glory of God; and that’s enough of a reason.
Along the way, we have this second story, the story of the hemorrhaging woman.
According to ancient tradition, this bleeding was menstrual, making her as unclean as the demon possessed swine who just took a header. Her access to conventional society could have been denied. Whether this still applied in first century Palestine is debated by scholars,[1] but for the reader, it was a sign that she was on her own in the wilderness of her own blood.
She is without social standing, she has no one on earth, but she believes; no, she knows that if she can even touch his clothes she will be healed. And she is. “Daughter,” Jesus says, “your faith has made you well.” Dozens were pressing in on Jesus. The crowd was crushing in on him as he walked. Still, the only one who was touched by the power of Jesus was the one who believed something would happen when she touched him, even if it was just his cloak.
Again, I always wondered a couple of things about this healing. Assuming the purity law still applied to menstruating women, how in the world she could be out in polite society, much less in a crowd where she would be pressed to scores of others? Add the intentional touch of a man’s cloak and she is violating enough taboo to shame a Hollywood celebutant.[2] So why this story, why this outcome? Why of all the people who were in contact with the Lord was she the one touched by the power of Jesus? The only proper answer is the answer given for why this man and his daughter. The answer to “why?” is for the glory of God. To God goes the glory for her faith in the healing power of Jesus has made her well.
The troupe continues to the home of Jairus the synagogue leader. While Jesus is still speaking to the woman the people came and said “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” For Jesus, there is no trouble. “Do not fear, only believe.”
It was faith that healed the woman; it was her faith in the power of Jesus that made her well. The crowd knows what happened. Jairus knows what happened. Now Jesus calls on the temple leader not to fear, but to believe.
When Jesus and Jairus along with Peter, James and John arrive, the wailing has begun. The cries of sorrow at the death of the child are ringing like a claxon. In a shocking turn; they laugh when Jesus tells them to stop making a commotion; “The girl sleeps, she is not dead.” He then shoos the people from the room, he takes the girl by the hand and says “Talitha cum.” Get up little girl; and she does.
The thread common to these two miraculous healing stories is faith; faith that Jesus our Lord is able to do all things. We are called to share that faith. We are called to trust the Lord our God. But as we do, as we have faith and as we trust; we are constantly reminded that there is pain in our world.
I am not going to regale you with stories of pain and strife, neither from ancient times nor from ours. By detailing one, we leave behind hundreds of others. On the news we see the strife and discord in Iran only to diminish the spotlight on the happenings in Iraq and Afghanistan. The brutality taking place in Darfur only ends up reducing attention to Tibetan independence from China, the plight of ethnic Albanians in the Czech Republic, and ethnic Turks in northern Iraq.
It is enough to know the simple fact that pain is real, strife is real; death and injustice are real. Yet we are called to know that Christ is victorious over pain, strife, death, and injustice. He experienced these very feelings, these very pains; unto death, death upon the cross. Still, we can take solace that in this horror, there is one place for us to rest. One of the places we see this in scripture is from our psalm reading, today’s Call to Worship.
Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD;
LORD, hear my voice;
let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
I wait for you, O LORD; my soul waits for you;
in your word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD,
more than sentries for the morning,
more than sentries for the morning.
The psalm reminds us that the depths of human brutality know not only no physical bounds, but are as old as time itself. In the grasp of human brutality, there is one alone to whom we can turn, so we are to call to the Lord who will hear the voices of our supplication. As David laments the death of Jonathan, as Jesus hears the cries of Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman, as Jesus hears our cries of desperation, as we wait on the Lord more than sentries for the morning; in times of pain, in times of suffering; there is no other place for us to rest than in the arms of the ever-loving Lord of life. It is in God alone that we wait. This is where we wait because in God alone, in Christ alone, is victory.
There is blood and there are tears in our gospel reading. It has toil and sweat too. It reminds me of a famous line in a speech made by Winston Churchill in his first address to the British House of Commons on May 13, 1940 after his election as Prime Minister. I want to share with you the end of this speech:
I would say to the House, as I said to those who've joined this government: “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.”
We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: victory. Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival. Let that be realised; no survival for the British Empire, no survival for all that the British Empire has stood for, no survival for the urge and impulse of the ages, that mankind will move forward towards its goal.[3]
Churchill asks, “What is our aim?” “What is our goal?” Victory, that is our aim. And in Christ alone is victory. In Christ, through the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our Lord; in Christ alone is victory. The war Churchill waged was fought by sea, land, and air with ships, planes, and men. The war we wage is fought with love, grace, and the Cross of Christ.
The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming of Jesus Christ have set the pattern for the church and its mission. His life connects him to creation, and creation to him. His service commits the church to work for every form of well-being. His suffering makes the church sensitive to all sufferings so that it sees the face of Christ in our faces in every kind of need. His crucifixion discloses to the church God's judgment on our inhumanity and the awful consequences of its own complicity in injustice. In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming the church sees the promise of God's renewal of man's life in society and of God's victory over all wrong.[4]
We are called to faith. We are called to trust in the Lord our God. In the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of our lives we are called to remember the blood, toil, tears, and sweat Jesus knew in his. We should remember that as God incarnate he could have risen above it all. Being fully divine, he could have dashed away any hint of suffering and pain. But being fully human, there is no avoiding the suffering of humanity, suffering unto death. Through this death and resurrection, his victory, and ours, is assured.
Churchill’s speech ended with this coda:
But I take up my task with buoyancy and hope. I feel sure that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, and I say, “Come then, let us go forward together with our united strength.”[5]
We claim the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit as we are called to go forward together with our united strength, united for the glory of God Almighty by God’s grace, peace, and justice.
When Jesus called on Jairus to believe, the words were meant for him alone. Yet this message of “believe” is one that needed to be known to the apostles, the disciples, and all of the followers of Jesus in every time and place. Believe in Christ. Believe in Christ’s victory. Believe in the power of God to reconcile all of creation to God’s own self.
[1] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, page 1817
[2] A portmanteau of celebrity and debutant
[3] Churchill, Winston, Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat. http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Blood,_Toil,_Tears_and_Sweat, delivered May 13, 1940, retrieved June 21, 2009.
[4] Paraphrase from the Confession of 1967
[5] Ibid, Churchill
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wishing, Willing, Choosing
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday February 15, 2009, the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
2 Kings 5:1-14
Psalm 30
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Mark 1:40-45
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
The Adventures of Pinocchio was written by Carlo Collodi and published in 1883. I think it is safe to say that we all know at least a little about the mischievous adventures of this animated marionette and his poor father, the woodcarver Geppetto.
The 1940 Disney version involves the wooden puppet being brought to life by a blue fairy, who tells him he can become a real boy if he proves himself “brave, truthful, and unselfish.” Thus begins Pinocchio’s adventures to become a real boy involving many encounters with a host of unsavory characters.
While in Collodi’s original story, the talking cricket is accidently killed by Pinocchio, in the film he fares better. In the Disney version he is translated into a comical and wise partner who accompanies Pinocchio on his adventures, having been appointed by the Blue Fairy to serve as the official conscience for Pinocchio.[1]
And of course, we are all familiar with Jiminy Cricket’s signature song, “When You Wish upon a Star.”
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
The reason I mention this is that as I have said before, all translation is interpretation, and this passage has one of the best examples.
Our reading this morning from the New Revised Standard Version began: “A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’”
The New International Version’s rendition of this verse is different. Instead of saying “If you choose” and “I do choose,” it says “If you are willing” and “I am willing.” So, what’s the difference? What’s at stake?
The English teacher would say that one of these verbs is active and the other is passive. This is what the teacher calls “grammatical voice.” An easy way to tell the difference is that in the active voice, action happens. Sending, doing, even seeing and smelling are in the active voice. The passive voice means that action is being done to something. In fact, in the passive voice the verb is prefaced by a form of “to be.” So passive voice examples are being sent, been done, being seen and were smelled. The active voice is preferred in speech and creative writing because it denotes action. Action moves stories along. Something happens; which is far better than when something is happening.
To show how important the differences between active and passive voice is in writing, when Microsoft Word runs its “readability statistics,” one of the statistics is the percentage of passive sentences, and the fewer the better.
So for the English teacher in all of us, the answer to the question “what’s at stake?” is that the man with leprosy and Jesus are both better doing than being. It is better “to choose” than “to be willing.”
Another difference between these two interpretations is that, frankly for my money, “to be willing” seems more wishy-washy than “to choose.” I don’t know if there is a difference in reality, but willingness is one thing, and it doesn’t necessarily lead to action. To choose is to do something. Of course, in a way, this is just another look at the active/passive discussion without using technical jargon like “grammatical voice.”
We’ve been together for three-and-a-half years, so by now I am sure that you who know me best anticipate a discussion on the Greek word used in this gospel. This is where we enter even more interesting vocabulary territory. You see, the word used here is not often rendered as either “is willing” or “choosing.” Usually it is translated as to have a desire for something; to wish, to want, to desire.
We have suddenly opened a brand new can of worms with this. Yes, the Greek word used here can mean to have a desire for something, to wish, to want; and to choose or to be willing.
One of my professors from Austin who was something of a “boy wonder” could not wait to get to seminary so that he could learn the scriptures in their original languages. He figured that this way he would be able to have all of his textual questions answered. He was surprised to discover that when studying scripture in their original languages he actually developed more questions than he had answered.
That’s frustrating if you let it be, but if you let the questions open you further to the mystery and the glory of God good things begin to happen.
The committees that translate the scriptures and publish bibles have to make decisions about the words they put in print. They have to choose specific words to use and not to use. Every word in our bibles can’t have two or three different choices of definitions and interpretations. If it did, then one bible as we know it would be the size of an Encyclopedia Britannica so decisions have to be made. In this case, the editors of the New International Version chose to go with “are willing” and the editors of the New Revised Standard selected “to choose.” Neither picked wish or desire.
Here’s the good news, the choices that the editorial committees have to make do not have to be made by you and me. We have the power, we have the authority to seek the Holy Spirit and make a choice of how we want to interpret this. We can pick one, or the other, or another still, but there’s one more choice we can make. We can choose all of the above.
What if we choose to allow all of the nuances of this Greek word to flow into our translation, our interpretation of this passage? What would happen if we did use all three translation choices; wishing, willing, and choosing? What would happen is that we would get a fuller idea of the richness of what the man with leprosy asked and what Jesus did, a fullness that no single translation can give us.
Jesus wants to cleanse us—and Jesus wants us to be cleansed. The Lord has a desire for a loving relationship with each and every one of us, with all humanity, with all creation. God’s wish, God’s desire is the restoration of all creation. When the leper says “you can cleanse me if you wish” he is absolutely correct. Jesus answers with “I wish, be cleansed.” Translating the passage this way points out the greatest wish, the greatest desire of the Lord; it is a good translation.
Jesus is willing to heal us. I believe willingness is similar to desire, with one additional element, power. Jesus not only wants to cleanse us, but he has the power to cleanse us and is willing to use that power to restore our relationship with the Almighty. The man with leprosy knew Jesus had the power, he knew Jesus could make him clean if only the Lord was willing. Jesus is able and Jesus is willing to use his power and authority to cleanse us.
Finally, Jesus chooses to cleanse us, heal us, make us whole. With all action there is choice. Not only must there be the want and the power, there should also be conscious choice in the matter. Please note that I did say “should” here. People leave things up to chance all the time, but making the conscious choice to do something, choosing to make a difference, is the hallmark between intent and accident. God intends action.
In our Call to Worship from Psalm 30, David cries to the Lord “you restored me to health, you brought me up from the dead, you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.”
In our gospel reading the Lord Jesus Christ cleansed this unnamed leper because it is what the Lord wished to do, was willing to do, and chose to do. In our Old Testament reading Naaman was cleansed by the Lord God because it is what the Lord wished to do, was willing to do, and chose to do. The Lord seeks every opportunity to make connections, to develop relationships with God’s people.
Notice one more thing; the people God chooses as examples of this relationship are not the perfect people, far from it. It’s not the people without problems that are noticed in scripture, it is people who have flaws.
People with leprosy were considered unclean. To be unclean means being contaminated by a physical, ritual, or moral impurity; the absence of such impurities constitutes cleanness. These concepts have very ancient roots in tribal life, and in advanced religions evolve into a system of ritual laws, administered by the priests. At this stage uncleanness is thought of as what is displeasing to the deities or as what belongs to the sphere of the demonic.[2]
Those who were contaminated by a physical, ritual, or moral impurity were required to separate themselves from the community. When others were within earshot they were required to cry out “unclean” so that the unsuspecting traveler would not be accidently made unclean as well. The unclean were separated from their families, friends, and homes.
The procedures to bring about ritual cleansing involve a waiting period of one, seven, or more days; ritual employing water, fire, or some other cleansing agent; and often a sacrifice of the nature of a sin offering.[3]
At the risk of becoming a social leper himself, Jesus reaches out to the man. Jesus restores him to his family, friends, and home. In our readings today, the cleansing power of Christ, the healing power of God put an end to the need for ritual purification. In Christ we are restored not only to health, but to our people, ourselves, and our Lord.
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
It is little known that there are actually two endings to Pinocchio. The original ending of the story is what today we call the end of the first act. The talking cricket is still dead, the blue fairy is not yet in the story, and Pinocchio himself is not redeemed, he does not become a real boy. This ending is no children’s story. It is a frightening tale bordering on horrific.
But the second act was created. In the end, all is restored and made well in the world. The marionette becomes flesh and bone, the cricket lives, and Geppetto, who was quite ill, is healed. The request for all to be restored, no matter how absurd, how extreme it may be, is granted.
Through Christ, we are cleansed. We are restored to right relationship with the Lord. In the Call to Worship we prayed, “I cried out to you and you restored me to health.” This because God wished, was willing, and chose to make it so.
When joy comes in the morning, we too must wish, be willing, and choose to join the Lord in the work of restoration. Is it scary? Sure it is. Imagine being Elisha’s messenger at the door telling a war ready General Naaman to take a bath. But let us do just that. Let us join the Lord Jesus in his restoring work.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiminy_Cricket
[2] “Clean and Unclean,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible
[3] Ibid.
2 Kings 5:1-14
Psalm 30
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Mark 1:40-45
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
The Adventures of Pinocchio was written by Carlo Collodi and published in 1883. I think it is safe to say that we all know at least a little about the mischievous adventures of this animated marionette and his poor father, the woodcarver Geppetto.
The 1940 Disney version involves the wooden puppet being brought to life by a blue fairy, who tells him he can become a real boy if he proves himself “brave, truthful, and unselfish.” Thus begins Pinocchio’s adventures to become a real boy involving many encounters with a host of unsavory characters.
While in Collodi’s original story, the talking cricket is accidently killed by Pinocchio, in the film he fares better. In the Disney version he is translated into a comical and wise partner who accompanies Pinocchio on his adventures, having been appointed by the Blue Fairy to serve as the official conscience for Pinocchio.[1]
And of course, we are all familiar with Jiminy Cricket’s signature song, “When You Wish upon a Star.”
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
The reason I mention this is that as I have said before, all translation is interpretation, and this passage has one of the best examples.
Our reading this morning from the New Revised Standard Version began: “A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’”
The New International Version’s rendition of this verse is different. Instead of saying “If you choose” and “I do choose,” it says “If you are willing” and “I am willing.” So, what’s the difference? What’s at stake?
The English teacher would say that one of these verbs is active and the other is passive. This is what the teacher calls “grammatical voice.” An easy way to tell the difference is that in the active voice, action happens. Sending, doing, even seeing and smelling are in the active voice. The passive voice means that action is being done to something. In fact, in the passive voice the verb is prefaced by a form of “to be.” So passive voice examples are being sent, been done, being seen and were smelled. The active voice is preferred in speech and creative writing because it denotes action. Action moves stories along. Something happens; which is far better than when something is happening.
To show how important the differences between active and passive voice is in writing, when Microsoft Word runs its “readability statistics,” one of the statistics is the percentage of passive sentences, and the fewer the better.
So for the English teacher in all of us, the answer to the question “what’s at stake?” is that the man with leprosy and Jesus are both better doing than being. It is better “to choose” than “to be willing.”
Another difference between these two interpretations is that, frankly for my money, “to be willing” seems more wishy-washy than “to choose.” I don’t know if there is a difference in reality, but willingness is one thing, and it doesn’t necessarily lead to action. To choose is to do something. Of course, in a way, this is just another look at the active/passive discussion without using technical jargon like “grammatical voice.”
We’ve been together for three-and-a-half years, so by now I am sure that you who know me best anticipate a discussion on the Greek word used in this gospel. This is where we enter even more interesting vocabulary territory. You see, the word used here is not often rendered as either “is willing” or “choosing.” Usually it is translated as to have a desire for something; to wish, to want, to desire.
We have suddenly opened a brand new can of worms with this. Yes, the Greek word used here can mean to have a desire for something, to wish, to want; and to choose or to be willing.
One of my professors from Austin who was something of a “boy wonder” could not wait to get to seminary so that he could learn the scriptures in their original languages. He figured that this way he would be able to have all of his textual questions answered. He was surprised to discover that when studying scripture in their original languages he actually developed more questions than he had answered.
That’s frustrating if you let it be, but if you let the questions open you further to the mystery and the glory of God good things begin to happen.
The committees that translate the scriptures and publish bibles have to make decisions about the words they put in print. They have to choose specific words to use and not to use. Every word in our bibles can’t have two or three different choices of definitions and interpretations. If it did, then one bible as we know it would be the size of an Encyclopedia Britannica so decisions have to be made. In this case, the editors of the New International Version chose to go with “are willing” and the editors of the New Revised Standard selected “to choose.” Neither picked wish or desire.
Here’s the good news, the choices that the editorial committees have to make do not have to be made by you and me. We have the power, we have the authority to seek the Holy Spirit and make a choice of how we want to interpret this. We can pick one, or the other, or another still, but there’s one more choice we can make. We can choose all of the above.
What if we choose to allow all of the nuances of this Greek word to flow into our translation, our interpretation of this passage? What would happen if we did use all three translation choices; wishing, willing, and choosing? What would happen is that we would get a fuller idea of the richness of what the man with leprosy asked and what Jesus did, a fullness that no single translation can give us.
Jesus wants to cleanse us—and Jesus wants us to be cleansed. The Lord has a desire for a loving relationship with each and every one of us, with all humanity, with all creation. God’s wish, God’s desire is the restoration of all creation. When the leper says “you can cleanse me if you wish” he is absolutely correct. Jesus answers with “I wish, be cleansed.” Translating the passage this way points out the greatest wish, the greatest desire of the Lord; it is a good translation.
Jesus is willing to heal us. I believe willingness is similar to desire, with one additional element, power. Jesus not only wants to cleanse us, but he has the power to cleanse us and is willing to use that power to restore our relationship with the Almighty. The man with leprosy knew Jesus had the power, he knew Jesus could make him clean if only the Lord was willing. Jesus is able and Jesus is willing to use his power and authority to cleanse us.
Finally, Jesus chooses to cleanse us, heal us, make us whole. With all action there is choice. Not only must there be the want and the power, there should also be conscious choice in the matter. Please note that I did say “should” here. People leave things up to chance all the time, but making the conscious choice to do something, choosing to make a difference, is the hallmark between intent and accident. God intends action.
In our Call to Worship from Psalm 30, David cries to the Lord “you restored me to health, you brought me up from the dead, you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.”
In our gospel reading the Lord Jesus Christ cleansed this unnamed leper because it is what the Lord wished to do, was willing to do, and chose to do. In our Old Testament reading Naaman was cleansed by the Lord God because it is what the Lord wished to do, was willing to do, and chose to do. The Lord seeks every opportunity to make connections, to develop relationships with God’s people.
Notice one more thing; the people God chooses as examples of this relationship are not the perfect people, far from it. It’s not the people without problems that are noticed in scripture, it is people who have flaws.
People with leprosy were considered unclean. To be unclean means being contaminated by a physical, ritual, or moral impurity; the absence of such impurities constitutes cleanness. These concepts have very ancient roots in tribal life, and in advanced religions evolve into a system of ritual laws, administered by the priests. At this stage uncleanness is thought of as what is displeasing to the deities or as what belongs to the sphere of the demonic.[2]
Those who were contaminated by a physical, ritual, or moral impurity were required to separate themselves from the community. When others were within earshot they were required to cry out “unclean” so that the unsuspecting traveler would not be accidently made unclean as well. The unclean were separated from their families, friends, and homes.
The procedures to bring about ritual cleansing involve a waiting period of one, seven, or more days; ritual employing water, fire, or some other cleansing agent; and often a sacrifice of the nature of a sin offering.[3]
At the risk of becoming a social leper himself, Jesus reaches out to the man. Jesus restores him to his family, friends, and home. In our readings today, the cleansing power of Christ, the healing power of God put an end to the need for ritual purification. In Christ we are restored not only to health, but to our people, ourselves, and our Lord.
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
It is little known that there are actually two endings to Pinocchio. The original ending of the story is what today we call the end of the first act. The talking cricket is still dead, the blue fairy is not yet in the story, and Pinocchio himself is not redeemed, he does not become a real boy. This ending is no children’s story. It is a frightening tale bordering on horrific.
But the second act was created. In the end, all is restored and made well in the world. The marionette becomes flesh and bone, the cricket lives, and Geppetto, who was quite ill, is healed. The request for all to be restored, no matter how absurd, how extreme it may be, is granted.
Through Christ, we are cleansed. We are restored to right relationship with the Lord. In the Call to Worship we prayed, “I cried out to you and you restored me to health.” This because God wished, was willing, and chose to make it so.
When joy comes in the morning, we too must wish, be willing, and choose to join the Lord in the work of restoration. Is it scary? Sure it is. Imagine being Elisha’s messenger at the door telling a war ready General Naaman to take a bath. But let us do just that. Let us join the Lord Jesus in his restoring work.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiminy_Cricket
[2] “Clean and Unclean,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible
[3] Ibid.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Trading Places
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday March 2, 2008, the Fourth Sunday in Lent.
1Samuel 16:1-13
Psalm 23
Ephesians 58-14
John 9:1-41
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
The concept of trading places has an honored place in literature and the movies. In “The Prince and the Pauper” Mark Twain explored how two young boys; a commoner named Tom Canty and the son of Henry VIII, Prince Edward; function in a world native to the other when they trade places. While there is some fish-out-of-water humor, it also served as a scathing social satire of class inequality in Tudor England.
Another example is the Disney movie “The Parent Trap.” Whether you prefer the original with Hayley Mills or the 1998 remake with Lindsay Lohan, this story gives us twin girls separated at birth by their divorcing parents who unexpectedly meet again at summer camp. They hatch a plot to reunite their parents by trading places.
This reading of chapter nine of John’s gospel, the story of the man born blind, is loaded with trading places.
The first transformation comes to the disciples when they discuss the situation of the man born blind. The reading begins with the apostles asking Jesus “who sinned; this man or his parents that he was born blind.” This question is couched in traditional Jewish speculation about the relationship between illness and sin[1] because in this time and place, being born blind was considered more than a physical malady; it was seen as a spiritual malady too. But Jesus’ response tells the disciples that their question, shrouded in rabbinic tradition and Jewish history, isn’t the question.
Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” John’s gospel sees sin differently from Jewish tradition. Sin is not a moral category; it is a theological category about how we respond to the revelation of God in Jesus.[2]
Nobody sinned so that this man may be blind. How this man and the people around him respond to this miraculous healing, this will become the answer to the question “who has sinned?” So the first example of trading places in our reading is ancient Jewish theology transformed into new questions about how we are to respond to Jesus.
With the healing of the man who was born blind, he is trading places in several ways. First, he is miraculously given the gift of sight. Then he trades places in society. With his new found sense, he is no longer the sin stained pariah his ailment made him. The gospel tells us this when the neighbors ask “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” Some don’t even believe it is him, but some sort of look alike; twins separated at birth. With his sight, his status has changed in the community. He is no longer a pitiful soul; he is now a man of full standing in the community.
That new status, trading places from misfit to regular guy, causes the next round of exchanges. He is called into the synagogue where he is examined by the Pharisees not once but twice. The power elite want to know where Jesus is. They want to know how he did what he did; and the man doesn’t have the answers to their questions. Honestly, the man doesn’t know where Jesus is or how he did what he did.
Jesus throws the Pharisees into a tizzy. Some want to know how a sinner who heals on the Sabbath can do such miraculous things. Others aren’t sure if he is a sinner or not; because if he is a sinner, how could he do the things he has done? Since they are divided, they ask the man with new vision what he sees. He has seen a prophet.
When the newly sighted man is recalled before the Pharisees they declare Jesus a sinner and demand that he give glory to God. But at this point, the man still doesn’t completely know who Jesus is. He doesn’t. He does know the gift he has received and from whom he received it. He knows what Jesus has done for him and is thankful.
He answers the Pharisees, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
Unsatisfied with these impertinent words, they ask him again what Jesus did to him, how he opened his eyes. He has nothing new to add, but figures if they want to know they could ask the source. “Do you want to become his disciples too?”
This is the wrong question to ask these keepers of the faith, these disciples of Moses. They know what they know, they do not know of a new thing being done in Jesus. Seeing the irony, the man revels in the truth that Jesus opened his eyes, yet the Pharisees’ eyes have been closed, trading places again.
With this, the man with new sight is driven from worship. He is driven from the synagogue. He is driven from the faith of his Fathers. Trading places again, he is now a man seemingly without God. So now, for the first time since verse seven from our reading, Jesus reappears and asks “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” Oh, how he wants to believe, but in whom can he believe? “Tell me,” he begs, “tell me so that I may believe in him.”
Jesus tells him he is speaking with the Son of Man. The man believes and worships Jesus. He has traded places for the last time. He is now a disciple of the Lord, the Lord who heals, the Lord who comes, the Lord who saves.
John’s gospel tells us that sin is a theological category about how we respond to the revelation of God in Jesus. The Pharisees, the keepers of the faith become the ones soaked in sin when they fail to see the light of the world. Their place in the world is changed by the sin they commit. The man who receives the gift of God, the gift of sight, sees; and sees the one who is worthy of worship.
Our prayer for illumination today ended:
Banish in us the blindness
that prevents us from recognizing truth,
so we may see the world through your eyes
and with the compassion of Jesus Christ who redeems us.[3]
We have received the greatest gift of all, the compassion of Jesus Christ who redeems us. From the blindness that prevents us from recognizing truth, we are given the gift to see through the eyes of Jesus. Not because we deserve it but because he freely gives the gift of grace which we receive by faith, just like the man who was blind.
We receive this because like the blind man we were born entirely in sin, Jesus becomes sin for us and bears it to the cross. So like the man with new vision, in Jesus Christ our sin is taken from us and lifted upon the cross with him. This is trading places. Jesus takes our sin so that we may have his life. Jesus takes our sin to the cross so that we don’t have to perish by the hands of our own sin. We then are called to respond to this gift of salvation so freely given.
There is a lot of talk today about the way to salvation. And this needs to be said, I wholeheartedly believe that the mystery of God is more than we will ever know or imagine. But the immenseness of this mystery cannot cause us to waver from sharing what we do know. Like the blind man before the Pharisees, we cannot speak to the mysteries we do not know, but we must share what we do. We say that Jesus is the Son of Man and the light of the world. We say he is a prophet. We say this because we were once blind, but now we see.
And with certainty we say that we believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord; and in the Holy Ghost, the holy catholic[4] church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.[5] Amen
[1] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IX, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, p 653.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Reprinted from Revised Common Lectionary Prayers, Lent 4, Year A Prayer of Illumination, copyright 2002.
[4] In this case, “catholic” means “universal.” When we recite the Apostles’ Creed this note is found in the worship bulletin.
[5] Edited from “The Apostles’ Creed”
1Samuel 16:1-13
Psalm 23
Ephesians 58-14
John 9:1-41
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
The concept of trading places has an honored place in literature and the movies. In “The Prince and the Pauper” Mark Twain explored how two young boys; a commoner named Tom Canty and the son of Henry VIII, Prince Edward; function in a world native to the other when they trade places. While there is some fish-out-of-water humor, it also served as a scathing social satire of class inequality in Tudor England.
Another example is the Disney movie “The Parent Trap.” Whether you prefer the original with Hayley Mills or the 1998 remake with Lindsay Lohan, this story gives us twin girls separated at birth by their divorcing parents who unexpectedly meet again at summer camp. They hatch a plot to reunite their parents by trading places.
This reading of chapter nine of John’s gospel, the story of the man born blind, is loaded with trading places.
The first transformation comes to the disciples when they discuss the situation of the man born blind. The reading begins with the apostles asking Jesus “who sinned; this man or his parents that he was born blind.” This question is couched in traditional Jewish speculation about the relationship between illness and sin[1] because in this time and place, being born blind was considered more than a physical malady; it was seen as a spiritual malady too. But Jesus’ response tells the disciples that their question, shrouded in rabbinic tradition and Jewish history, isn’t the question.
Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” John’s gospel sees sin differently from Jewish tradition. Sin is not a moral category; it is a theological category about how we respond to the revelation of God in Jesus.[2]
Nobody sinned so that this man may be blind. How this man and the people around him respond to this miraculous healing, this will become the answer to the question “who has sinned?” So the first example of trading places in our reading is ancient Jewish theology transformed into new questions about how we are to respond to Jesus.
With the healing of the man who was born blind, he is trading places in several ways. First, he is miraculously given the gift of sight. Then he trades places in society. With his new found sense, he is no longer the sin stained pariah his ailment made him. The gospel tells us this when the neighbors ask “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” Some don’t even believe it is him, but some sort of look alike; twins separated at birth. With his sight, his status has changed in the community. He is no longer a pitiful soul; he is now a man of full standing in the community.
That new status, trading places from misfit to regular guy, causes the next round of exchanges. He is called into the synagogue where he is examined by the Pharisees not once but twice. The power elite want to know where Jesus is. They want to know how he did what he did; and the man doesn’t have the answers to their questions. Honestly, the man doesn’t know where Jesus is or how he did what he did.
Jesus throws the Pharisees into a tizzy. Some want to know how a sinner who heals on the Sabbath can do such miraculous things. Others aren’t sure if he is a sinner or not; because if he is a sinner, how could he do the things he has done? Since they are divided, they ask the man with new vision what he sees. He has seen a prophet.
When the newly sighted man is recalled before the Pharisees they declare Jesus a sinner and demand that he give glory to God. But at this point, the man still doesn’t completely know who Jesus is. He doesn’t. He does know the gift he has received and from whom he received it. He knows what Jesus has done for him and is thankful.
He answers the Pharisees, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
Unsatisfied with these impertinent words, they ask him again what Jesus did to him, how he opened his eyes. He has nothing new to add, but figures if they want to know they could ask the source. “Do you want to become his disciples too?”
This is the wrong question to ask these keepers of the faith, these disciples of Moses. They know what they know, they do not know of a new thing being done in Jesus. Seeing the irony, the man revels in the truth that Jesus opened his eyes, yet the Pharisees’ eyes have been closed, trading places again.
With this, the man with new sight is driven from worship. He is driven from the synagogue. He is driven from the faith of his Fathers. Trading places again, he is now a man seemingly without God. So now, for the first time since verse seven from our reading, Jesus reappears and asks “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” Oh, how he wants to believe, but in whom can he believe? “Tell me,” he begs, “tell me so that I may believe in him.”
Jesus tells him he is speaking with the Son of Man. The man believes and worships Jesus. He has traded places for the last time. He is now a disciple of the Lord, the Lord who heals, the Lord who comes, the Lord who saves.
John’s gospel tells us that sin is a theological category about how we respond to the revelation of God in Jesus. The Pharisees, the keepers of the faith become the ones soaked in sin when they fail to see the light of the world. Their place in the world is changed by the sin they commit. The man who receives the gift of God, the gift of sight, sees; and sees the one who is worthy of worship.
Our prayer for illumination today ended:
Banish in us the blindness
that prevents us from recognizing truth,
so we may see the world through your eyes
and with the compassion of Jesus Christ who redeems us.[3]
We have received the greatest gift of all, the compassion of Jesus Christ who redeems us. From the blindness that prevents us from recognizing truth, we are given the gift to see through the eyes of Jesus. Not because we deserve it but because he freely gives the gift of grace which we receive by faith, just like the man who was blind.
We receive this because like the blind man we were born entirely in sin, Jesus becomes sin for us and bears it to the cross. So like the man with new vision, in Jesus Christ our sin is taken from us and lifted upon the cross with him. This is trading places. Jesus takes our sin so that we may have his life. Jesus takes our sin to the cross so that we don’t have to perish by the hands of our own sin. We then are called to respond to this gift of salvation so freely given.
There is a lot of talk today about the way to salvation. And this needs to be said, I wholeheartedly believe that the mystery of God is more than we will ever know or imagine. But the immenseness of this mystery cannot cause us to waver from sharing what we do know. Like the blind man before the Pharisees, we cannot speak to the mysteries we do not know, but we must share what we do. We say that Jesus is the Son of Man and the light of the world. We say he is a prophet. We say this because we were once blind, but now we see.
And with certainty we say that we believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord; and in the Holy Ghost, the holy catholic[4] church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.[5] Amen
[1] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IX, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, p 653.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Reprinted from Revised Common Lectionary Prayers, Lent 4, Year A Prayer of Illumination, copyright 2002.
[4] In this case, “catholic” means “universal.” When we recite the Apostles’ Creed this note is found in the worship bulletin.
[5] Edited from “The Apostles’ Creed”
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Give Thanks
This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 14, 2007.
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7
Psalm 66:1-12
2Timothy 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
In English and creative writing classes, teachers encourage students to learn and use synonyms. By using a word that means the same thing as another word, a writer can add a little spice to an essay or a story. Some words add a little nuance that others lack. So using synonyms adds color, texture to a piece that is missing if you use the same word over and over again.
For example a word that I have used six times so far, is word. Make that seven. If I had used the word (and that makes eight) expression it would have meant the same thing, but would have added a little flair. If I had used utterance it would have changed the meaning because an utterance is a spoken word. Speech is another synonym that I could have used, but that would throw even more of a curve ball into the mix because speech can mean either the ability to speak or a speech can be a whole bunch of words connected together by a theme or a concept.[1] When using synonyms, great care has to be taken because the wrong word can change the meaning of a sentence entirely. Meanings can be added or lost.
On the other hand, some words that seem synonymous aren’t. This is what happened to me with this gospel reading. This passage, the healing of the ten lepers, is well known. Ten are healed, one returns to give thanks, Jesus asks questions he doesn’t expect anyone to answer, and the one who returned is told to go. But this “Reader’s Digest Condensed Version” lacks the full expression of the language. When I first looked at this reading, I thought the phrases “were made clean,” “was healed,” and “made you well” pretty much meant the same thing. But they don’t, not in this story. In this narrative, these phrases that seem to be synonymous aren’t at all.
Let’s pick up the story from the fourteenth verse: “When Jesus saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean.” Luke very specifically uses the phrase “were made clean.” There’s a lot going on in this little phrase. The first thing it says is that they did not make themselves clean. They did not hop in the shower with soap and shampoo. The verb here is passive, they were made clean. They did not make themselves clean, they were made clean by something else, or more correctly someone else.
There is an even deeper meaning to this “being made clean.” This cleaning includes the ritual cleansing necessary so that the lepers could present themselves to the priests.[2] And since the approval of the priest was necessary before a leper could rejoin polite society, this was an important step. This cleaning is what makes them right with the community and allows them to resume their lives.
Continuing at verse 15, “Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed turned back.” In the church setting, when we think of being made clean, we think of being healed, but Luke was careful to use two different verbs in these two verses. The word used in this verse speaks to the physical aspects of the healing.[3] The leper noticed that the skin rash that had made him unclean and exiled him from society had vanished. Physical healing had been accomplished. Of course, this physical healing would have had to precede going to the priest who would declare that the leper had been made clean physically and ritually.
Let’s skip to the last verse of our reading, after the single leper turns back to Jesus praising God with a loud voice. “Then Jesus said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’” This seems pretty straight forward in English, made well is like physically healed and even like being made ritually clean. But the people who heard this story in the first century would have heard even more. Because of the word Jesus used, they would have heard that the man was free of disease, and more that he had been saved from death. Even more than physical death, the word Jesus used here meant that the man had been saved from spiritual death.[4] The word used here is the one used for saves, as in Jesus saves. Jesus told this man, this former leper, this Samaritan, his faith has saved him.
Jesus heals us; Jesus takes from us the unclean things that we absorb into our bodies and our lives and makes us clean, holy, and presentable. Still there is more to our healing.
Something theologians say over and over again is that we are saved by grace through faith. What this means to me is that God freely gives us the gift of grace. We are the recipients of a gift that we could never purchase. We cannot earn the gift of grace; we can never seize the gift of grace. We can’t even guilt the Lord into giving this wonderful gift; it can only be given freely and lovingly. But by our faithful response to this glorious generous gift of God’s grace, we accept the relationship Jesus offers and become partners with the Lord in his ministry.
The ten lepers all received Jesus’ freely given gift. By this gift, their bodies were healed and they were allowed to return to their lives. But one of them, just one of them, the dreaded Samaritan, turned and gave thanks to Jesus for the healing he received. And by his response, his faith, he alone was saved. This one Samaritan leper was saved by grace through his faith, a faith shown in the act of turning from his new life and returning to Jesus and loudly giving thanks to God.
We are called to do as this man has done. We are called to turn from our daily lives and give thanks for the grace and the peace and the bounty that is ours through the gifts of our Lord Jesus Christ. This doesn’t mean that life will always be easy or pleasant; there are times of trial. There will be times when we will be like the lepers, needing the word of the Lord to heal us, to restore us. There will be times when we are shunned like a leper, or even worse, like a Samaritan leper, the outsider among outsiders. But the word of the Lord is always present with us. The grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ is always with us and calls us to respond faithfully.
Faithful response comes in many ways. Today we come together and share the joy of welcoming two new faces to this part of the body of Christ. Today Leah[5] faithfully responds to the call of the Lord joining this congregation, this part of the body of Christ. Today we as the congregation will faithfully respond by welcoming Leah.
Today we will celebrate one of the most joyful events in the life of the church; today through the grace of God we celebrate the baptism of Leah’s daughter Tasha. In baptism, we, the entire church of God throughout creation, welcome Tasha into the family of God. Today we as the people of God will also respond by telling Leah and Tasha that God and God’s people are present in their lives too.
There is joy and celebration in these glorious events. And by the grace of God freely given, and our faithful response to this grace, we are made well. We are saved. We are called to faithfully respond in many ways. We are called to respond with our time. We are called to respond with our talents. And yes, we are called to respond with our tithes. But right now, let us joyfully turn back to Jesus and offer God the sacrifice of praise with a loud voice. Alleluia! Amen!
[1] The MicrosoftWord 2003 Thesaurus lists the words expression, utterance, and speech as synonyms for word.
[2] Translation to “katharitzow,” A Greek English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Earlly Christian Literature, Third Edition. Revised and edited by Frederick William Danker based on Walter Bauer's Griechisch-deutsches Wörterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen Testaments und der frühchristlichen Literatur, sixth edition, ed. Kurt Aland and Barbara Aland, with Viktor Reichmann and on previous English editions by W.F.Arndt, F.W.Gingrich, and F.W.Danker. Chicago, The University of Chicago Press, 2000, electronic version in BibleWorks, version 7.0.019b.4, 2007.
[3] Translation to “iaomai,” Ibid.
[4] Translation to “sosow,” Ibid..
[5] The names have been changed
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7
Psalm 66:1-12
2Timothy 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
In English and creative writing classes, teachers encourage students to learn and use synonyms. By using a word that means the same thing as another word, a writer can add a little spice to an essay or a story. Some words add a little nuance that others lack. So using synonyms adds color, texture to a piece that is missing if you use the same word over and over again.
For example a word that I have used six times so far, is word. Make that seven. If I had used the word (and that makes eight) expression it would have meant the same thing, but would have added a little flair. If I had used utterance it would have changed the meaning because an utterance is a spoken word. Speech is another synonym that I could have used, but that would throw even more of a curve ball into the mix because speech can mean either the ability to speak or a speech can be a whole bunch of words connected together by a theme or a concept.[1] When using synonyms, great care has to be taken because the wrong word can change the meaning of a sentence entirely. Meanings can be added or lost.
On the other hand, some words that seem synonymous aren’t. This is what happened to me with this gospel reading. This passage, the healing of the ten lepers, is well known. Ten are healed, one returns to give thanks, Jesus asks questions he doesn’t expect anyone to answer, and the one who returned is told to go. But this “Reader’s Digest Condensed Version” lacks the full expression of the language. When I first looked at this reading, I thought the phrases “were made clean,” “was healed,” and “made you well” pretty much meant the same thing. But they don’t, not in this story. In this narrative, these phrases that seem to be synonymous aren’t at all.
Let’s pick up the story from the fourteenth verse: “When Jesus saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean.” Luke very specifically uses the phrase “were made clean.” There’s a lot going on in this little phrase. The first thing it says is that they did not make themselves clean. They did not hop in the shower with soap and shampoo. The verb here is passive, they were made clean. They did not make themselves clean, they were made clean by something else, or more correctly someone else.
There is an even deeper meaning to this “being made clean.” This cleaning includes the ritual cleansing necessary so that the lepers could present themselves to the priests.[2] And since the approval of the priest was necessary before a leper could rejoin polite society, this was an important step. This cleaning is what makes them right with the community and allows them to resume their lives.
Continuing at verse 15, “Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed turned back.” In the church setting, when we think of being made clean, we think of being healed, but Luke was careful to use two different verbs in these two verses. The word used in this verse speaks to the physical aspects of the healing.[3] The leper noticed that the skin rash that had made him unclean and exiled him from society had vanished. Physical healing had been accomplished. Of course, this physical healing would have had to precede going to the priest who would declare that the leper had been made clean physically and ritually.
Let’s skip to the last verse of our reading, after the single leper turns back to Jesus praising God with a loud voice. “Then Jesus said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’” This seems pretty straight forward in English, made well is like physically healed and even like being made ritually clean. But the people who heard this story in the first century would have heard even more. Because of the word Jesus used, they would have heard that the man was free of disease, and more that he had been saved from death. Even more than physical death, the word Jesus used here meant that the man had been saved from spiritual death.[4] The word used here is the one used for saves, as in Jesus saves. Jesus told this man, this former leper, this Samaritan, his faith has saved him.
Jesus heals us; Jesus takes from us the unclean things that we absorb into our bodies and our lives and makes us clean, holy, and presentable. Still there is more to our healing.
Something theologians say over and over again is that we are saved by grace through faith. What this means to me is that God freely gives us the gift of grace. We are the recipients of a gift that we could never purchase. We cannot earn the gift of grace; we can never seize the gift of grace. We can’t even guilt the Lord into giving this wonderful gift; it can only be given freely and lovingly. But by our faithful response to this glorious generous gift of God’s grace, we accept the relationship Jesus offers and become partners with the Lord in his ministry.
The ten lepers all received Jesus’ freely given gift. By this gift, their bodies were healed and they were allowed to return to their lives. But one of them, just one of them, the dreaded Samaritan, turned and gave thanks to Jesus for the healing he received. And by his response, his faith, he alone was saved. This one Samaritan leper was saved by grace through his faith, a faith shown in the act of turning from his new life and returning to Jesus and loudly giving thanks to God.
We are called to do as this man has done. We are called to turn from our daily lives and give thanks for the grace and the peace and the bounty that is ours through the gifts of our Lord Jesus Christ. This doesn’t mean that life will always be easy or pleasant; there are times of trial. There will be times when we will be like the lepers, needing the word of the Lord to heal us, to restore us. There will be times when we are shunned like a leper, or even worse, like a Samaritan leper, the outsider among outsiders. But the word of the Lord is always present with us. The grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ is always with us and calls us to respond faithfully.
Faithful response comes in many ways. Today we come together and share the joy of welcoming two new faces to this part of the body of Christ. Today Leah[5] faithfully responds to the call of the Lord joining this congregation, this part of the body of Christ. Today we as the congregation will faithfully respond by welcoming Leah.
Today we will celebrate one of the most joyful events in the life of the church; today through the grace of God we celebrate the baptism of Leah’s daughter Tasha. In baptism, we, the entire church of God throughout creation, welcome Tasha into the family of God. Today we as the people of God will also respond by telling Leah and Tasha that God and God’s people are present in their lives too.
There is joy and celebration in these glorious events. And by the grace of God freely given, and our faithful response to this grace, we are made well. We are saved. We are called to faithfully respond in many ways. We are called to respond with our time. We are called to respond with our talents. And yes, we are called to respond with our tithes. But right now, let us joyfully turn back to Jesus and offer God the sacrifice of praise with a loud voice. Alleluia! Amen!
[1] The MicrosoftWord 2003 Thesaurus lists the words expression, utterance, and speech as synonyms for word.
[2] Translation to “katharitzow,” A Greek English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Earlly Christian Literature, Third Edition. Revised and edited by Frederick William Danker based on Walter Bauer's Griechisch-deutsches Wörterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen Testaments und der frühchristlichen Literatur, sixth edition, ed. Kurt Aland and Barbara Aland, with Viktor Reichmann and on previous English editions by W.F.Arndt, F.W.Gingrich, and F.W.Danker. Chicago, The University of Chicago Press, 2000, electronic version in BibleWorks, version 7.0.019b.4, 2007.
[3] Translation to “iaomai,” Ibid.
[4] Translation to “sosow,” Ibid..
[5] The names have been changed
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Right Place-Wrong Time
This sermon was delivered on the Twenty-First Sunday of Ordinary Time, August 26, 2007 at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas.
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
As you know, I love music and the movies, and one of my favorite movies is “Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.” “Dr. Strangelove” begins as the story of a U.S. Army General who decides that it is better to start a nuclear war than it is to wait for a nuclear war to start because he fears fluoridation of water is a Communist conspiracy causing him to loose the purity of his essence. As the threat of nuclear war reaches its zenith, Russian Ambassador Alexi de Sadesky is summoned to a meeting deep in the darkest bowels of the Pentagon where the Generals and Admirals are assembled with the President. Suddenly the ambassador is caught taking pictures with a camera hidden in a fake pack of cigarettes by Army General ‘Buck’ Turgidson. General Turgidson fights to get the camera from Ambassador Sadesky who fights back. The voice of reason, President Merkin Muffley, brings the donnybrook to a close saying, “Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room.”[1]
Now tell me, if you can’t fight in the war room where can you fight?
You know, I can just hear the leader of the synagogue saying, “Lady, you can’t get healed in the synagogue! It’s the Sabbath!”
Now tell me, if you can’t get healed…never mind, you get my point.
Folks who have studied these things longer than I have say that healing stories fall into three types, miracle stories, controversy stories, and teaching stories. This account falls into two, if not all three of these categories.[2] It’s a miracle story, as much as every one of Jesus’ healings is miraculous. It is a controversy story, as I just pointed out from the reaction of the head of the temple. And it’s a teaching story, as Jesus makes clear in the end of the reading.
But now I ask which deserves our attention today? As for the miraculous aspects of the story, I could spend the next twenty minutes or the next twenty weeks talking about the miracles of Jesus and their effects on our lives. It’s a wonderful sermon series with one overriding message, the miracles point to Jesus’ father. Jesus says on more than one occasion what he does he does for the glory of the Father. I could focus on the miraculous aspects of the healings, but this is a well traveled road.
The controversy is pretty obvious, but it deserves attention. Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. So far, so good, in fact, there would have been more controversy if Jesus had not been in the synagogue on the Sabbath. Just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up.
Jesus was sympathetic. Being fully divine does not prevent Jesus from feeling pain. As a fully human carpenter, he knew what it was like to have a sore back. TV ads for pain relievers tell me carpenters get sore, I figure it’s the same two thousand years ago. He saw this woman crippled up and bent over and knew what she needed. She needed healing…and more.
So when Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” Set free, pardoned, released, the woman is separated from her pain and her shame by the most wonderful of Rabbis with the most wonderful of phrases, “you are set free.” How we all long to hear those words. We are all crippled by one thing or another. And while we may not be bent physically for all to see, we are bent. We all long to hear those wonderful words, “you are set free.”
This act is not without controversy though, Jesus heals her on the Sabbath and the head of the synagogue is indignant. “There are six days on which work ought to be done.” This begins sounding like the head of the synagogue is about to tear into Jesus for healing, but then he doesn’t. He finishes his diatribe on work with, “come on those days to be cured, and not on the Sabbath.” The head of the synagogue doesn’t say he’s upset with Jesus for healing the bent woman; instead he shows he is ticked off at the woman for coming on the Sabbath. Honey, you were in the right place, but it’s the wrong time. The controversy is ripe, and focused on someone who is weakened by years of oppression, someone who is separated from the community of her birth.
The woman is reprimanded by the head of the synagogue, but it’s Jesus who comes to rescue her from this controversy. He answers her critics with words that ring out, “if you’re going to take on this injured soul, this Satan-bound woman, this daughter of Abraham, you’d better be ready to take me on too.” “You hypocrites!” he cries. You posers! You fakers! Jesus calls the head of the synagogue and all who agree with him frauds. Jesus reminds these fine upstanding keepers of the faith that they too work on the Sabbath; they feed and water their livestock. So Jesus asks them if they will care for their own flocks on the Sabbath, isn’t it better to bring a daughter of Abraham back into the flock of the great shepherd anytime, including on the Sabbath? Jesus reminds them that Satan had bound this woman for eighteen long years, so this woman ought to be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day.
This story’s controversy takes us into its teaching. This is the teaching we find in this story can be summed up saying that it is always good to do what is right, regardless of the time and place. Making this point, scripture tells us his opponents were put to shame and the entire crowd rejoiced at the things he was doing.
For Jesus, there’s no such thing as “right place—wrong time.” It’s always the right place and it’s always the right time to do the right thing.
Mac Rebennack, Jr. is a blues rock and boogie-woogie piano player from New Orleans. Calling himself Dr. John, he had a hit in 1973 with “Right Place, Wrong Time.”[3] I think the second chorus is fitting with today’s reading.
I was in the wrong place, but it must have been the right time
I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong song
I was in the right thing, but it seemed like a wrong wrong
'Cause I was in the right world, but it seemed like a wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong
I believe the head of the synagogue is telling the woman she was in the right place, but needing to be healed, she was singing the wrong song. And I also believe that the head of the synagogue was telling her that she was in the right place to come for healing, but it was the wrong time. As long as you are orthodox, you’re fine. Keep with the program and you’ll be fine, but if you don’t then to paraphrase Dr. John, it’s like being in the right world, but it seems like a wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
The head of the synagogue knows his rules and his regulations. He knows “work” is not to be done on the Sabbath. He knows healing is work. He surely knows healing is a work of God, whether miraculous healing or not. He knows his purity laws. He knows an ailing woman should not be in the holy place on the holy day. And he surely knew Jesus should not have laid hands on her.
Touching a woman…on the Sabbath…in the synagogue…to heal her…Jesus just racked up a four-bagger of sins in one fell swoop. Controversy is thick in this little tale of ours. But I ask, in the head of the synagogue’s indignity in this story, isn’t he trying to maintain the right and proper worship in the synagogue? I believe he is. He isn’t a bad guy; he’s just doing his job.
This isn’t the first time we’ve talked about people just doing their jobs. Another example comes from a few weeks ago with the story of the Good Samaritan.[4] The priest and the Levite weren’t merciful toward the injured and bleeding man of Luke 10:30, but they weren’t evil either. They were just doing their jobs. The ritual purity aspects of the man’s injury and the woman’s ailment even have the same ring to holy men in these pieces. And as in that story, in this story Jesus wants more from his followers. Jesus harkens to open our minds to new activities and our souls to new neighbors. This is where the real controversy comes into the story.
This reminds us that Jesus is willing to go out on a limb compared to what others are willing to do. The head of the synagogue wanted to keep the orthodoxy orthodox. He wanted to do the right things the right way, the way they have been done for thousands of years. The way they are done in the scriptures as given to Moses. But Jesus wants more. Jesus demands more.
A few weeks ago I said that the story of the Good Samaritan doesn’t ask us “Who is my neighbor?” as much as it asks, “Am I a neighbor?”[5] Here Jesus asks us about work. If the question is “when is it right to do the reconciling work of God?” The answer can only be “Always.”
Jesus demonstrates the word when he brings her back into the community. Jesus does this by healing, this is for sure. He also does it by returning her to the community. Jesus restores the woman and Jesus restores us. Jesus will have us in the assembly on the Sabbath to share and participate in the worship of Almighty God for the restoration of ourselves, our community, and the world just as he did with this daughter of Abraham. Jesus will have us accept all who come bent and broken because none of us are pure and flawless.
Jesus is doing what a prophet should be doing on the Sabbath, he is teaching. Yet for Jesus teaching is more than an academic enterprise. Without response, without doing something with the teaching, it’s just words, gone like smoke in the breeze. The word becomes truth when we take it and use it to point to God and help bring in the Kingdom of Heaven. He is doing what a prophet does. He doesn’t just preach the word, he demonstrates it.
Who do you know that suffers from separation from Christ and the body of Christ? In our own bent and broken ways, we are all separated from the Love of God. Yet we give thanks and praise to the Messiah who calls us while we are bent and broken into the family of God. We give thanks and praise to the Messiah who has calls us into the family of God while we are still bent and broken.
This is the miracle, new life in Jesus Christ. This is the controversy; his new life is for everyone, especially the bent and broken. This it the teaching, we are always in the right place and it is always the right time to do the right thing. This is a variation of the teaching that comes from the end of the Good Samaritan, go and do likewise.
[1] George, Peter, “Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.” Hawk Films, Ltd, 1964.
[2] Cousar, Charles B., Gaventa, Beverly R., McCann, Jr., J. Clinton, Newsome, James D., Texts for Preaching, A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV, YEAR C. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, page 484.
[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mac_Rebennack, accessed August 25, 2007.
[4] Luke 10:25-37 in “Visions and Revisions,” http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2007/07/visions-and-revisions.html, preached on July 15, 2007, accessed August 25, 2007.
[5] Halverson, Richard C., Animating Illustrations section from “Adlet and Blink,” Commentary section, from Homiletics Online, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=930000347, accessed June 10, 2007. as presented in “Visions and Revisions,” http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2007/07/visions-and-revisions.html, accessed August 25, 2007.
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
As you know, I love music and the movies, and one of my favorite movies is “Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.” “Dr. Strangelove” begins as the story of a U.S. Army General who decides that it is better to start a nuclear war than it is to wait for a nuclear war to start because he fears fluoridation of water is a Communist conspiracy causing him to loose the purity of his essence. As the threat of nuclear war reaches its zenith, Russian Ambassador Alexi de Sadesky is summoned to a meeting deep in the darkest bowels of the Pentagon where the Generals and Admirals are assembled with the President. Suddenly the ambassador is caught taking pictures with a camera hidden in a fake pack of cigarettes by Army General ‘Buck’ Turgidson. General Turgidson fights to get the camera from Ambassador Sadesky who fights back. The voice of reason, President Merkin Muffley, brings the donnybrook to a close saying, “Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room.”[1]
Now tell me, if you can’t fight in the war room where can you fight?
You know, I can just hear the leader of the synagogue saying, “Lady, you can’t get healed in the synagogue! It’s the Sabbath!”
Now tell me, if you can’t get healed…never mind, you get my point.
Folks who have studied these things longer than I have say that healing stories fall into three types, miracle stories, controversy stories, and teaching stories. This account falls into two, if not all three of these categories.[2] It’s a miracle story, as much as every one of Jesus’ healings is miraculous. It is a controversy story, as I just pointed out from the reaction of the head of the temple. And it’s a teaching story, as Jesus makes clear in the end of the reading.
But now I ask which deserves our attention today? As for the miraculous aspects of the story, I could spend the next twenty minutes or the next twenty weeks talking about the miracles of Jesus and their effects on our lives. It’s a wonderful sermon series with one overriding message, the miracles point to Jesus’ father. Jesus says on more than one occasion what he does he does for the glory of the Father. I could focus on the miraculous aspects of the healings, but this is a well traveled road.
The controversy is pretty obvious, but it deserves attention. Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. So far, so good, in fact, there would have been more controversy if Jesus had not been in the synagogue on the Sabbath. Just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up.
Jesus was sympathetic. Being fully divine does not prevent Jesus from feeling pain. As a fully human carpenter, he knew what it was like to have a sore back. TV ads for pain relievers tell me carpenters get sore, I figure it’s the same two thousand years ago. He saw this woman crippled up and bent over and knew what she needed. She needed healing…and more.
So when Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” Set free, pardoned, released, the woman is separated from her pain and her shame by the most wonderful of Rabbis with the most wonderful of phrases, “you are set free.” How we all long to hear those words. We are all crippled by one thing or another. And while we may not be bent physically for all to see, we are bent. We all long to hear those wonderful words, “you are set free.”
This act is not without controversy though, Jesus heals her on the Sabbath and the head of the synagogue is indignant. “There are six days on which work ought to be done.” This begins sounding like the head of the synagogue is about to tear into Jesus for healing, but then he doesn’t. He finishes his diatribe on work with, “come on those days to be cured, and not on the Sabbath.” The head of the synagogue doesn’t say he’s upset with Jesus for healing the bent woman; instead he shows he is ticked off at the woman for coming on the Sabbath. Honey, you were in the right place, but it’s the wrong time. The controversy is ripe, and focused on someone who is weakened by years of oppression, someone who is separated from the community of her birth.
The woman is reprimanded by the head of the synagogue, but it’s Jesus who comes to rescue her from this controversy. He answers her critics with words that ring out, “if you’re going to take on this injured soul, this Satan-bound woman, this daughter of Abraham, you’d better be ready to take me on too.” “You hypocrites!” he cries. You posers! You fakers! Jesus calls the head of the synagogue and all who agree with him frauds. Jesus reminds these fine upstanding keepers of the faith that they too work on the Sabbath; they feed and water their livestock. So Jesus asks them if they will care for their own flocks on the Sabbath, isn’t it better to bring a daughter of Abraham back into the flock of the great shepherd anytime, including on the Sabbath? Jesus reminds them that Satan had bound this woman for eighteen long years, so this woman ought to be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day.
This story’s controversy takes us into its teaching. This is the teaching we find in this story can be summed up saying that it is always good to do what is right, regardless of the time and place. Making this point, scripture tells us his opponents were put to shame and the entire crowd rejoiced at the things he was doing.
For Jesus, there’s no such thing as “right place—wrong time.” It’s always the right place and it’s always the right time to do the right thing.
Mac Rebennack, Jr. is a blues rock and boogie-woogie piano player from New Orleans. Calling himself Dr. John, he had a hit in 1973 with “Right Place, Wrong Time.”[3] I think the second chorus is fitting with today’s reading.
I was in the wrong place, but it must have been the right time
I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong song
I was in the right thing, but it seemed like a wrong wrong
'Cause I was in the right world, but it seemed like a wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong
I believe the head of the synagogue is telling the woman she was in the right place, but needing to be healed, she was singing the wrong song. And I also believe that the head of the synagogue was telling her that she was in the right place to come for healing, but it was the wrong time. As long as you are orthodox, you’re fine. Keep with the program and you’ll be fine, but if you don’t then to paraphrase Dr. John, it’s like being in the right world, but it seems like a wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
The head of the synagogue knows his rules and his regulations. He knows “work” is not to be done on the Sabbath. He knows healing is work. He surely knows healing is a work of God, whether miraculous healing or not. He knows his purity laws. He knows an ailing woman should not be in the holy place on the holy day. And he surely knew Jesus should not have laid hands on her.
Touching a woman…on the Sabbath…in the synagogue…to heal her…Jesus just racked up a four-bagger of sins in one fell swoop. Controversy is thick in this little tale of ours. But I ask, in the head of the synagogue’s indignity in this story, isn’t he trying to maintain the right and proper worship in the synagogue? I believe he is. He isn’t a bad guy; he’s just doing his job.
This isn’t the first time we’ve talked about people just doing their jobs. Another example comes from a few weeks ago with the story of the Good Samaritan.[4] The priest and the Levite weren’t merciful toward the injured and bleeding man of Luke 10:30, but they weren’t evil either. They were just doing their jobs. The ritual purity aspects of the man’s injury and the woman’s ailment even have the same ring to holy men in these pieces. And as in that story, in this story Jesus wants more from his followers. Jesus harkens to open our minds to new activities and our souls to new neighbors. This is where the real controversy comes into the story.
This reminds us that Jesus is willing to go out on a limb compared to what others are willing to do. The head of the synagogue wanted to keep the orthodoxy orthodox. He wanted to do the right things the right way, the way they have been done for thousands of years. The way they are done in the scriptures as given to Moses. But Jesus wants more. Jesus demands more.
A few weeks ago I said that the story of the Good Samaritan doesn’t ask us “Who is my neighbor?” as much as it asks, “Am I a neighbor?”[5] Here Jesus asks us about work. If the question is “when is it right to do the reconciling work of God?” The answer can only be “Always.”
Jesus demonstrates the word when he brings her back into the community. Jesus does this by healing, this is for sure. He also does it by returning her to the community. Jesus restores the woman and Jesus restores us. Jesus will have us in the assembly on the Sabbath to share and participate in the worship of Almighty God for the restoration of ourselves, our community, and the world just as he did with this daughter of Abraham. Jesus will have us accept all who come bent and broken because none of us are pure and flawless.
Jesus is doing what a prophet should be doing on the Sabbath, he is teaching. Yet for Jesus teaching is more than an academic enterprise. Without response, without doing something with the teaching, it’s just words, gone like smoke in the breeze. The word becomes truth when we take it and use it to point to God and help bring in the Kingdom of Heaven. He is doing what a prophet does. He doesn’t just preach the word, he demonstrates it.
Who do you know that suffers from separation from Christ and the body of Christ? In our own bent and broken ways, we are all separated from the Love of God. Yet we give thanks and praise to the Messiah who calls us while we are bent and broken into the family of God. We give thanks and praise to the Messiah who has calls us into the family of God while we are still bent and broken.
This is the miracle, new life in Jesus Christ. This is the controversy; his new life is for everyone, especially the bent and broken. This it the teaching, we are always in the right place and it is always the right time to do the right thing. This is a variation of the teaching that comes from the end of the Good Samaritan, go and do likewise.
[1] George, Peter, “Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.” Hawk Films, Ltd, 1964.
[2] Cousar, Charles B., Gaventa, Beverly R., McCann, Jr., J. Clinton, Newsome, James D., Texts for Preaching, A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV, YEAR C. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, page 484.
[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mac_Rebennack, accessed August 25, 2007.
[4] Luke 10:25-37 in “Visions and Revisions,” http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2007/07/visions-and-revisions.html, preached on July 15, 2007, accessed August 25, 2007.
[5] Halverson, Richard C., Animating Illustrations section from “Adlet and Blink,” Commentary section, from Homiletics Online, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=930000347, accessed June 10, 2007. as presented in “Visions and Revisions,” http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2007/07/visions-and-revisions.html, accessed August 25, 2007.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Special Treatment
This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 6th Sunday of Easter, May 13, 2007.
Acts 16:9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21:10, 21:22-22:5
John 5:1-9
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, or rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Last year, I made a donation to KSMU radio, the National Public Radio station at Missouri State University in Springfield. This isn’t unusual for me. I have enjoyed listening to NPR for over twenty years. I started listening to KCUR (Kansas City University Radio) after graduating from college. I still listen sometimes while in the office or on the road; though I don’t listen as much since KTHS has begun playing our radio spots.[1]
Anyway, when I made the donation to KSMU, I received a couple of premiums, gifts for donating. One of them was a spa day at the Basin Park Hotel in Eureka Springs. I knew that Marie would love that little bonus. She loves that sort of pampering. And who wouldn’t? I have never had a spa day, but she tells me being pampered for a couple of hours is great. Getting a massage, a facial, maybe a steam, I am told you come out of these spa days feeling refreshed. Just the other day one of Marie’s coworkers mentioned that for Mother’s Day one of her kids got her a haircut, manicure and pedicure at a local salon. She said it made her feel special, wonderful, like a movie star.
So her daughter and I have something in common, we figured it would be wonderful to give someone we love same special treatment, make them feel good. After all, who doesn’t like special treatment?
Today’s gospel passage is about receiving special treatment. And it is not as if the recipient is asking any. He’s dropping hints, but he’s not actually asking for it. Yet he receives special treatment, treatment he hasn’t earned and doesn’t deserve.
We begin during one of the Jewish festivals and Jesus is walking by the Sheep Gate by a pool called Beth-zatha. In some translations this pool is called Bethesda. The Sheep Gate separated the North Eastern part of Jerusalem from the Temple Mount. The pools at the Sheep Gate were used to wash the sheep prior to their sacrifice in the Temple. This use of the pools gave the water a halo of sanctity.[2]
Many invalids came to the pools to be healed I wonder the waters curative properties have anything to do with the lanolin from the sheep’s coats left in the waters after they are bathed. Local legend said that when the pool was stirred, its healing power was activated, and the first person in the waters would be made well. Legends from the third century said the ripples in the pool were caused by angels bathing in the waters. Since the pool was surrounded on all sides by the city walls or the surrounding slope of the hills, breezes in the pool would be infrequent, so the invalid waiting game had to be played with great patience.
The name of this spot means “House of Grace.” It is an appropriate name for a place where the sheep would receive their final bath and inspection before being certified free of blemish and suitable for sacrifice. The name of this spot would also be appropriate for a group of invalids who seek the unmerited favor of healing by the restorative, nearly mystical powers of the waters. Is it any wonder that a Presbyterian Church was founded near the sight of a bubbling spring in rural Maryland in 1820 and then one hundred and twenty years later a Naval Medical Center built nearby would both come to be called Bethesda?[3] A place named for the House of Grace would be the place to receive special treatment, both medical and spiritual.
So Jesus arrives at the pool seeing the sick: the blind, lame, and withered. There, Jesus spotted a man he wanted to know more about. He was probably one of the oldest men at the pool. He learned that this man had been lying there for a long time, thirty eight years to be exact. So Jesus asks him, “Do you want to be made well?”
Oh what a wonderful question! “Do you want to be made well?” Imagine how you would answer this question. “Oh my Lord, yes, I do want to be made well!” I can imagine people being asked this question all over the world and just as easily imagine people crying from the roof tops, “Oh my Lord, yes, I do want to be made well!” But you know, this isn’t the answer Jesus gets from the man.
The man tells Jesus, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.”
So, is that a yes or a no?
No, I really mean it.
Is this a yes or a no?
It really isn’t an answer at all. It is an explanation. The man explains to Jesus that he is unable to reach the waters. He tries. He really tries to make it on his own, even though there is no one at the pool to help him. But alas, woe is he; he is unable to make it to the waters first.
Anyway, whether it is a yes or a no or an answer to Jesus’ question at all, Jesus tells the man, “Stand up, take your mat, and walk.” At once, he took up his mat and began to walk.
So, what do you think was going through his mind? “Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord?” If it is, scripture doesn’t say so. He is obedient, he does as he is told, but that’s all. After thirty eight years at the pool he doesn’t seem to be a “go-the-extra-mile” kind of guy. Looking at the whole story, we can’t be sure the man even knew he was talking to Jesus. He may have known he was taking to someone named Jesus, but then again that’s like us saying we were talking to Bob. Back in the day, guys named Jesus were a dime a dozen. He may have known he was talking to “a” Jesus, but if he knew he was talking to “the” Jesus, we don’t know it from our reading.
So he doesn’t know it was “the” Jesus of Nazareth. He doesn’t give thanks to him for the healing. There is not even any indication that this sick man believed this Jesus was the Messiah. The man does nothing to deserve the healing; he makes no motion to Jesus at all. Even when he is asked if he wants to be made well; he doesn’t give Jesus a straight answer. Instead he tells Jesus how hard it is for him to get healed.
Yeah, how hard is it? Jesus of Nazareth makes it so and it is done. What the man can’t do in thirty eight years, Jesus accomplishes without a word. He doesn’t even say “You are healed.” No speech, no proclamation about faith, his or anyone else’s. Jesus just tells the guy stand up, take your mat and walk; and it is done.
If grace is the unmerited, undeserved favor of the Lord, this House of Grace is the place and this guy is its recipient. Jesus moves to him, not the other way around. Jesus responds to the man even when the man doesn’t even know to respond to Jesus.
Again, I ask if he is thankful. No, he isn’t.
You know, it seems to me that in thirty eight years he would have been able to hit the pool first once. If he had been at the pool for thirty eight years, surely the gang would have let him in first once so he could be healed. I know it’s a dog eat dog world out there, but at the House of Grace surely one time he would have been able to make it to the waters first.
Logically, if he couldn’t get into the pool, he wouldn’t have been able to get to the pool. Someone had to get him there daily; couldn’t they stay one day to help him get healed?
Let us ask, what if he didn’t want to be healed? After thirty eight years he would have been the pool boy with the most seniority. His thirty eight years at the pool would have accorded him some power or prestige with the poolside crew. While I have no evidence to back this up, this was probably a popular place for the invalids to beg, and as the sorriest most senior of the group, the begging was probably pretty good for him. He may have even been the Michael Corleone of the pool, assigning spots, taking kickbacks on everyone else’s begging.
If he was healed, if he was able to walk, he would have lost a lucrative income and a lot of prestige. He had standing in the community. Admittedly it was an unhealthy status in an unhealthy community, but he had what he had and he was comfortable enough to live in this unhealthy community for thirty eight years. What was in it for him to be cured?
Thankful? As this story continues, the man squeals on Jesus as soon as the Scribes and Pharisees press him on the matter of his Sabbath day stroll with his mat. That’s thanks for you.
This man is unhealthy in more ways than one and has made a life out of it. It may not be a good life, but it was his life. After thirty eight years, it was all he knew. By cultural standards he has lived a long life and is probably the most senior of the sick. It’s not much of a life, but it’s his. Losing all that he knew, losing his place in the poolside community, a community he had status in, would have been frightening.
Maybe it’s not so difficult to see that he might not have been thankful for receiving the healing grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, after all, he had a life, a life he could have no longer, a life that changed dramatically.
We think of grace as a wonderful and glorious gift, which it is. Yet receiving grace can be frightening. We want to be made well, but are we willing to pay the price, the price of losing our old sick identity for a new identity in Christ? Of course we do, but receiving the grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ requires making changes. It required the sick man to get up and walk on his own two feet literally and figuratively. He was no longer able to benefit from others carrying him. He would not be able to benefit from his status in the community of the blind, lame, and withered. He was no longer a member of that group. He was now a part of a new community, a community called by Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ. What changes do we make to gratefully receive God’s special treatment of grace, unmerited favor we have neither earned nor deserved? Are we willing to make hard changes?
We receive this wonderful and free gift, but we are required to do something with it. Being a part of the House of Grace requires us to change. Like the man at the pool, being made well requires us to change. Like the man at the pool, we need God’s grace because we can’t make it on our own. We need God’s grace to survive. It requires us to change how we respond to others. Jesus makes us the recipients of special treatment. We receive gifts we do not deserve, treatment we haven’t earned. That’s what grace is, unmerited favor. We have a choice, we can be unthankful like the man at the pool or we can be thankful for the new life we receive in Jesus Christ, sharing it with the world around us, in God’s good creation, a world made on in Jesus Christ.
[1] KTHS is the local 24 Hour Stereo Country station in Berryville, Arkansas. The church has begun putting promotional/devotional spots on the station.
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pool_of_Bethesda, accessed May 12, 2007
[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bethesda%2C_Maryland and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Naval_Medical_Center accessed on May 12, 2007
Acts 16:9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21:10, 21:22-22:5
John 5:1-9
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, or rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Last year, I made a donation to KSMU radio, the National Public Radio station at Missouri State University in Springfield. This isn’t unusual for me. I have enjoyed listening to NPR for over twenty years. I started listening to KCUR (Kansas City University Radio) after graduating from college. I still listen sometimes while in the office or on the road; though I don’t listen as much since KTHS has begun playing our radio spots.[1]
Anyway, when I made the donation to KSMU, I received a couple of premiums, gifts for donating. One of them was a spa day at the Basin Park Hotel in Eureka Springs. I knew that Marie would love that little bonus. She loves that sort of pampering. And who wouldn’t? I have never had a spa day, but she tells me being pampered for a couple of hours is great. Getting a massage, a facial, maybe a steam, I am told you come out of these spa days feeling refreshed. Just the other day one of Marie’s coworkers mentioned that for Mother’s Day one of her kids got her a haircut, manicure and pedicure at a local salon. She said it made her feel special, wonderful, like a movie star.
So her daughter and I have something in common, we figured it would be wonderful to give someone we love same special treatment, make them feel good. After all, who doesn’t like special treatment?
Today’s gospel passage is about receiving special treatment. And it is not as if the recipient is asking any. He’s dropping hints, but he’s not actually asking for it. Yet he receives special treatment, treatment he hasn’t earned and doesn’t deserve.
We begin during one of the Jewish festivals and Jesus is walking by the Sheep Gate by a pool called Beth-zatha. In some translations this pool is called Bethesda. The Sheep Gate separated the North Eastern part of Jerusalem from the Temple Mount. The pools at the Sheep Gate were used to wash the sheep prior to their sacrifice in the Temple. This use of the pools gave the water a halo of sanctity.[2]
Many invalids came to the pools to be healed I wonder the waters curative properties have anything to do with the lanolin from the sheep’s coats left in the waters after they are bathed. Local legend said that when the pool was stirred, its healing power was activated, and the first person in the waters would be made well. Legends from the third century said the ripples in the pool were caused by angels bathing in the waters. Since the pool was surrounded on all sides by the city walls or the surrounding slope of the hills, breezes in the pool would be infrequent, so the invalid waiting game had to be played with great patience.
The name of this spot means “House of Grace.” It is an appropriate name for a place where the sheep would receive their final bath and inspection before being certified free of blemish and suitable for sacrifice. The name of this spot would also be appropriate for a group of invalids who seek the unmerited favor of healing by the restorative, nearly mystical powers of the waters. Is it any wonder that a Presbyterian Church was founded near the sight of a bubbling spring in rural Maryland in 1820 and then one hundred and twenty years later a Naval Medical Center built nearby would both come to be called Bethesda?[3] A place named for the House of Grace would be the place to receive special treatment, both medical and spiritual.
So Jesus arrives at the pool seeing the sick: the blind, lame, and withered. There, Jesus spotted a man he wanted to know more about. He was probably one of the oldest men at the pool. He learned that this man had been lying there for a long time, thirty eight years to be exact. So Jesus asks him, “Do you want to be made well?”
Oh what a wonderful question! “Do you want to be made well?” Imagine how you would answer this question. “Oh my Lord, yes, I do want to be made well!” I can imagine people being asked this question all over the world and just as easily imagine people crying from the roof tops, “Oh my Lord, yes, I do want to be made well!” But you know, this isn’t the answer Jesus gets from the man.
The man tells Jesus, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.”
So, is that a yes or a no?
No, I really mean it.
Is this a yes or a no?
It really isn’t an answer at all. It is an explanation. The man explains to Jesus that he is unable to reach the waters. He tries. He really tries to make it on his own, even though there is no one at the pool to help him. But alas, woe is he; he is unable to make it to the waters first.
Anyway, whether it is a yes or a no or an answer to Jesus’ question at all, Jesus tells the man, “Stand up, take your mat, and walk.” At once, he took up his mat and began to walk.
So, what do you think was going through his mind? “Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord?” If it is, scripture doesn’t say so. He is obedient, he does as he is told, but that’s all. After thirty eight years at the pool he doesn’t seem to be a “go-the-extra-mile” kind of guy. Looking at the whole story, we can’t be sure the man even knew he was talking to Jesus. He may have known he was taking to someone named Jesus, but then again that’s like us saying we were talking to Bob. Back in the day, guys named Jesus were a dime a dozen. He may have known he was talking to “a” Jesus, but if he knew he was talking to “the” Jesus, we don’t know it from our reading.
So he doesn’t know it was “the” Jesus of Nazareth. He doesn’t give thanks to him for the healing. There is not even any indication that this sick man believed this Jesus was the Messiah. The man does nothing to deserve the healing; he makes no motion to Jesus at all. Even when he is asked if he wants to be made well; he doesn’t give Jesus a straight answer. Instead he tells Jesus how hard it is for him to get healed.
Yeah, how hard is it? Jesus of Nazareth makes it so and it is done. What the man can’t do in thirty eight years, Jesus accomplishes without a word. He doesn’t even say “You are healed.” No speech, no proclamation about faith, his or anyone else’s. Jesus just tells the guy stand up, take your mat and walk; and it is done.
If grace is the unmerited, undeserved favor of the Lord, this House of Grace is the place and this guy is its recipient. Jesus moves to him, not the other way around. Jesus responds to the man even when the man doesn’t even know to respond to Jesus.
Again, I ask if he is thankful. No, he isn’t.
You know, it seems to me that in thirty eight years he would have been able to hit the pool first once. If he had been at the pool for thirty eight years, surely the gang would have let him in first once so he could be healed. I know it’s a dog eat dog world out there, but at the House of Grace surely one time he would have been able to make it to the waters first.
Logically, if he couldn’t get into the pool, he wouldn’t have been able to get to the pool. Someone had to get him there daily; couldn’t they stay one day to help him get healed?
Let us ask, what if he didn’t want to be healed? After thirty eight years he would have been the pool boy with the most seniority. His thirty eight years at the pool would have accorded him some power or prestige with the poolside crew. While I have no evidence to back this up, this was probably a popular place for the invalids to beg, and as the sorriest most senior of the group, the begging was probably pretty good for him. He may have even been the Michael Corleone of the pool, assigning spots, taking kickbacks on everyone else’s begging.
If he was healed, if he was able to walk, he would have lost a lucrative income and a lot of prestige. He had standing in the community. Admittedly it was an unhealthy status in an unhealthy community, but he had what he had and he was comfortable enough to live in this unhealthy community for thirty eight years. What was in it for him to be cured?
Thankful? As this story continues, the man squeals on Jesus as soon as the Scribes and Pharisees press him on the matter of his Sabbath day stroll with his mat. That’s thanks for you.
This man is unhealthy in more ways than one and has made a life out of it. It may not be a good life, but it was his life. After thirty eight years, it was all he knew. By cultural standards he has lived a long life and is probably the most senior of the sick. It’s not much of a life, but it’s his. Losing all that he knew, losing his place in the poolside community, a community he had status in, would have been frightening.
Maybe it’s not so difficult to see that he might not have been thankful for receiving the healing grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, after all, he had a life, a life he could have no longer, a life that changed dramatically.
We think of grace as a wonderful and glorious gift, which it is. Yet receiving grace can be frightening. We want to be made well, but are we willing to pay the price, the price of losing our old sick identity for a new identity in Christ? Of course we do, but receiving the grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ requires making changes. It required the sick man to get up and walk on his own two feet literally and figuratively. He was no longer able to benefit from others carrying him. He would not be able to benefit from his status in the community of the blind, lame, and withered. He was no longer a member of that group. He was now a part of a new community, a community called by Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ. What changes do we make to gratefully receive God’s special treatment of grace, unmerited favor we have neither earned nor deserved? Are we willing to make hard changes?
We receive this wonderful and free gift, but we are required to do something with it. Being a part of the House of Grace requires us to change. Like the man at the pool, being made well requires us to change. Like the man at the pool, we need God’s grace because we can’t make it on our own. We need God’s grace to survive. It requires us to change how we respond to others. Jesus makes us the recipients of special treatment. We receive gifts we do not deserve, treatment we haven’t earned. That’s what grace is, unmerited favor. We have a choice, we can be unthankful like the man at the pool or we can be thankful for the new life we receive in Jesus Christ, sharing it with the world around us, in God’s good creation, a world made on in Jesus Christ.
[1] KTHS is the local 24 Hour Stereo Country station in Berryville, Arkansas. The church has begun putting promotional/devotional spots on the station.
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pool_of_Bethesda, accessed May 12, 2007
[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bethesda%2C_Maryland and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Naval_Medical_Center accessed on May 12, 2007
Monday, December 25, 2006
Witnesses of the Light
This homily was delivered in the chapel of St. John's Hospital Berryville, Arkansas on Christmas Day, 2006
John 1:1-14
Today as I was doing my rounds, I went into a room where the shades were drawn and the lights were turned off. It was pretty dark. The next room I went into didn’t have the lights on either, but the shades were open. And the open shades allowed the light to pour into the room. Have you ever noticed that? Of course you have! But note that the darkness doesn’t spill into the room—the light goes to the dark. Our gospel reading deals with the true light in a dark place.
In this gospel reading, there are two principles in this passage. The first is God; God in Word, as God the Father, in the light, and in the flesh. The second is the witness.
On this Christmas Day we come and we testify as the witness to the birth of the Lord in the flesh. God has chosen to come among us and walk as we walk, hope as we hope, and pray as we pray. Fully human and fully divine, Jesus came as a babe, swaddled by his mother and laid in an animal’s pen.
Yes, God could have come in honor and triumph, but instead he came as we come into the world in the stench of a sty to experience life, joy, and pain just like we do.
Just as we do, Jesus lives and works with his people. The hospital is a place where the healing ministry of Jesus extends through your hands. Regardless of your responsibilities, you extend the healing ministry of Jesus in this place. Our Savior came as a child, and experienced a painful and humiliating death. Our patients come the same way, and in every way in between.
And we are the witnesses. We are the witnesses that as our Lord came to heal, he heals as one who experienced the same ailments and afflictions we do. He shares our joys and our sorrows as God and as a man, a man born of a woman in a barn in Bethlehem. Let us witness the ministry of God as we participate in his healing ministry. Let us bear witness to the Light of the world. Shine, reflecting his light in this world and in this hospital.
Jesus is the light of the world and we are the witnesses. Let us bear witness to the joy of the light that the darkest corners may be lit.
John 1:1-14
Today as I was doing my rounds, I went into a room where the shades were drawn and the lights were turned off. It was pretty dark. The next room I went into didn’t have the lights on either, but the shades were open. And the open shades allowed the light to pour into the room. Have you ever noticed that? Of course you have! But note that the darkness doesn’t spill into the room—the light goes to the dark. Our gospel reading deals with the true light in a dark place.
In this gospel reading, there are two principles in this passage. The first is God; God in Word, as God the Father, in the light, and in the flesh. The second is the witness.
On this Christmas Day we come and we testify as the witness to the birth of the Lord in the flesh. God has chosen to come among us and walk as we walk, hope as we hope, and pray as we pray. Fully human and fully divine, Jesus came as a babe, swaddled by his mother and laid in an animal’s pen.
Yes, God could have come in honor and triumph, but instead he came as we come into the world in the stench of a sty to experience life, joy, and pain just like we do.
Just as we do, Jesus lives and works with his people. The hospital is a place where the healing ministry of Jesus extends through your hands. Regardless of your responsibilities, you extend the healing ministry of Jesus in this place. Our Savior came as a child, and experienced a painful and humiliating death. Our patients come the same way, and in every way in between.
And we are the witnesses. We are the witnesses that as our Lord came to heal, he heals as one who experienced the same ailments and afflictions we do. He shares our joys and our sorrows as God and as a man, a man born of a woman in a barn in Bethlehem. Let us witness the ministry of God as we participate in his healing ministry. Let us bear witness to the Light of the world. Shine, reflecting his light in this world and in this hospital.
Jesus is the light of the world and we are the witnesses. Let us bear witness to the joy of the light that the darkest corners may be lit.
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