Scripture: Matthew 8:1-17
Pastor's Note: This is my first sermon back after a month-long convalescence for some pretty serious medical issues. I'm better and back to work. I'm also immensely grateful for the prayers, support, and patience of my congregation. You guys are the best. God bless you all.
Almost 25 years ago now, I wandered into Luther Memorial Church in Blacksburg on a Sunday morning. This was typical of my college years; I attempted at least a somewhat regular schedule of church attendance, made easier by the fact that my dorm was only a block away from the church. But this Sunday was different. I wandered inside in a bit of a daze. Over the past week, I’d discovered I’d failed a midterm project in my computer science class and failed a calculus exam. My one true love, the one girl I thought I’d be spending my life with, wrote me a Dear John letter. Everything I thought I was going to be in life had come to an abrupt halt. I walked in that church that Sunday feeling like my whole world was ending.
Obviously, it wasn’t. But in the moment, my 19 year old self didn’t know whether he was coming or going. Completely in over my head with what life had thrown at me. It was October 18, 1992, the feast day of St. Luke and that day was the healing service. I sat there and just absorbed the whole experience. I heard the words of the Gospel, stories of how Jesus healed those in need. I listened to the sermon. I went forward for anointing and laying on of hands. And in all that I found a tiny measure of hope to help me carry on.
I’ve come to appreciate this day and this service immensely because of that experience. And in a lot of ways, as I stand before you today, I find myself in not so different a boat. I’m stronger now, more anchored, more mature, and not quite so prone to fits of despair. But I am here today after a month long convalescence for a whole host of life-altering and borderline life-threatening illnesses. And I’m having moments where I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. I may not feel that my whole world is ending, but I do feel like I’m completely in over my head with what life has thrown at me.
And yet, I still have hope. I have hope because of what this day means. I have hope because of what Jesus does. He’s the one that holds me together in the midst of this and every other daunting trial life throws at me.
And as I look out at all your faces, I suspect I’m not alone in this boat. I see here today others who are struggling with illness, with cancer, and all the uncertainty that brings. I see here today people wondering about the future. Worried about bills and income and jobs. I see folks who have among their friends and even family Latinos and blacks and gays who are wondering what sort of world are we creating when so many of the powers-that-be (or could be) are so openly and viciously hostile to them and anyone else who is “different.” And, of course, the elephant in the room here at Canadochly. I see the faces of people grieving. People who have lost friends, parents, spouses, and even children.
And yet, we still have hope.
Why?
Because we know that we have a God who puts things right. We have a God who restores. We have a God who heals, heals the body, the mind, and the heart. We have a God who enfolds us in his arms when our souls ache with fear and sorrow, who wraps us up and whispers in our ears, “I know. I feel it too. I get it. I understand. I’m here.”
We know we have this God because we have his stories. We have story after story of miraculous healing. We have strength restored to Samson. We have leprosy cured on Naaman. We have the son of the widow of Zarephath brought back to health, and that’s just the Old Testament. Let’s toss in Jesus who restores sight to the blind, makes the lame to walk, and even raises the dead. Let’s talk about the apostles at the portico of Solomon commanding a lame man to walk. Let’s talk about all these stories, because they’re our stories. They’re really about us and what God intends to do for us.
In fact, I would argue that nearly every story of the Scriptures is about some form of healing. Nearly every one is about some form of restoration or revitalization. Nearly every story is about going from what one is to what one is meant to be. Noah’s ark? Escaping from the death and destruction of the flood to a new life. Sodom and Gomorrah? Again, fleeing out of death to freedom and life. The Exodus? Liberation from bondage to freedom. David and Goliath? David goes from being a nobody to a hero lauded by his people.
In each case, God takes something broken or imperfect and makes something new of it. Are the stories we have in our Gospel so different? People taken from the brokenness of sickness and brought back to health. Brought from a form of death back to life.
My friends, is that not the resurrection? Is that not the empty tomb writ small? Time and time again, we find these stories and they point to something. They point to a greater truth that we have come to embrace. God is bringing us all from death to life, from sickness to health, from brokenness to wholeness, from what we are to what we are meant to be.
Your story is that story too. My story is that story too. God is doing the same thing with each of us. To those who have lost, do we not cling to the promise of resurrection, knowing that one day we will be reunited with those that we love? To those who suffer, do we not cling to the promise of restoration, knowing that even if what we have kills us, there is an empty tomb and the bliss of life eternal beyond? To those who worry about the world, do we not cling to the promise of the new heaven and new earth, knowing that God will put right all that has gone wrong in the world through life, death, and resurrection of his Son?
That, my friends, is our hope. That’s what this and every day really is about. God is still on the throne. He is still working in each of our lives to put right what has gone wrong. That’s his plan. It’s the plan of the Old Covenant, when he promised a blessing for all people. It’s the plan of the New Covenant, written in the flesh and blood of the Christ who revealed to us God’s heart, mind, and intentions. We are all a part of that, the recipients of those blessings. It is our hope and our promise. God has declared, “What is wrong will one day be put right. Life will be restored. Relationships healed. Death put asunder. And will be as it should be, as it was meant to be.” That is God’s kingdom. May it come quickly. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment