Originally posted on 2/15/09 under the title:
Faux-Pastor Jon's Sermon: Faith Healing.
It's a long post, so to shave off some space, I invite you to check out the original post to read the story of Shay:
I just got back from church. This was the worship service I had been assigned to lead as part of my church's shared ministry covenant. I always get nervous at these types of events. Not quite sure why. It's a small church filled with people that I know. Yet, I have to watch myself or my nerves get away from me and I'm stammering up a storm. Fortunately, I had a good day today, despite finding myself in a situation where I had five minutes to come up with a children's message (the person originally assigned to do that didn't realize that it was her week).
The biggest problem that I ran into during the sermon didn't have to do with jitters. It was tears. I kept breaking into tears throughout the sermon. I expected a bit of this during the final story, but not during the "Marsha" story. I had to take a couple breaks to collect myself. But my fellow parishioners responded well to my sermon and to my emotions.
Here is the text to this week's sermon:
Welcome to worship here at Faith United Church of Christ this fine snowy morning...
If you look in the announcements section of the bulletin, you will notice that today is our church's monthly shared ministry service. I am not the church's pastor, nor am I a minister outside of the context of me sharing the day's ministry. So I start today's message with a caveat to any visitors that if you really dislike today's sermon, I invite you to return next week to participate in worship with our regular worship leader, Pastor Bruce. And if you really like today's service, then come back next week where you can hear me lead the youth message.
Anyway, I'm not a minister. Instead, my career has been working with people with disabilities. I've gone from working part-time as a high school and college student in a rural group home to providing services for disabled folks in their own apartments in this county. For the past decade or so, I have worked as a case manager and now as an intake worker for the county. I still have some clients of my own these days, but mainly my job is to get people into the system so that they can get the supports that they need and sometimes to be a roadblock for those who don't qualify for services for one reason or another.
When thinking about shared ministry and what type of message I might share if I were to get into this position, one of the things that I've wanted to do is somehow address disability issues in the context of the church and our faith. Kind of a merging of my two worlds (three worlds, really, if you consider the disabilities that affect various people in my family).
Upon receiving the shared ministry assignment, I immediately went to the lectionary for some guidance and found some inspiration from those sources, particularly from Mark 1. Jesus healed the leper! Leper=modern-day disability community! Great!
Then I read the story and began asking myself what it meant. What, if anything, did Jesus ask of the leper before healing him? (Nothing. He felt pity, touched him, and healed him without precondition.) What did he ask of the leper after the healing? (He told him to tell nobody of the healing besides the local priests.) Why didn't Jesus want the leper to tell anyone about this healing? What does this communicate to us about Jesus and his mission? Why didn't Jesus want this message of physical healing broadly told? Why not take away the pain and stigma of leprosy -- as well as other ailments -- from the larger population? That was my stumbling point in this tale.
After some pondering and considering, I've come to the conclusion that God and Jesus weren't about the healing and the miracles. Sometimes the miraculous cures come, but it's not because of faith. Jesus didn't demand anything from the leper before healing him. In fact, he asked the lep to not tell people abou the miracle cure. (Not that the leper listened...)
I mentioned earlier that part of my job is being a roadblock. With my job, it can be easy to become cynical when visiting with potential new clients. You meet new folks, read medical reports, listen to their requests for money or services, and after a while you begin wondering what's holding them back. Why don't they realize that they don't have it that bad when compared to others? We only have so much money. Does this person's needs warrant the use of those limited funds? It's very easy some days to get trapped in negative judgments. And it will likely become more difficult to avoid such judgments as the federal, state, and county funds that we access continue to dry up and as increased demands for those funds rise.
I do my best to recognize when I'm in those moods and adjust my attitude so that I'm not so judgmental, but it's hard. Sometimes, it's all I can do to meet my clients, renew or adjust their funding, and then let others handle the day-to-day issues. The problem with my job is that I'm separated most of the time from the people that I serve. We do't have case loads small enough to spend much quality time with our clients. We pay private agencies to do that.
I recently met with a woman on my case load for her annual review. She was transferred to me last February, but I'd always been too busy to call her or introduce myself. I made sure that she had funding for her in-home services and trusted that the agency would call me if something came up. Turns out that she didn't like her in-home worker and had dropped out of services many months ago and was trying to make a go of things on her own, so I've been spending a lot of time with her recently getting her set back up with services and helping her follow up with some other resources. I'll call her "Jane".
Jane struck a chord with me, largely because she could be me in a few years. She had a good life for many years. She was a medical professional and very skills in her chosen field. She bought a nice house, where she lived many years with her son, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's mother. She made a good living for herself. She planned ahead. Maybe not as good as she could, but she had health insurance and savings.
And then life happened. Her boyfriend's mother died unexpectedly. Her son grew up and moved out. And then she found out that her beloved boyfriend had been cheating on her for years. All of this happened within a few months. and it shattered her. She fell into a period of severe depression and anxiety. It was very severe, leading to a few hospitalizations, to ongoing psychiatric care, even to electro-shock treatments. Her anxiety and depression is still something that she is trying to overcome years after the onset of her symptoms. Her mental healt symptoms led to the end of her career. Fortunately, she was able to access Social Security to support her. Unfortunately, she still has a mortgage and taxed for an empty house that she can barely afford with her new limited income. And because she earned a good living while in her prime, her disability payments are just high enough that she doesn't qualify for most other forms of assistance like food stamps or reduced energy assistance.
She barely scrapes by. She keeps her heat as low as she can without freezing the pipes. In that awful -20 degree weather that we just experienced, I learned that she turned up the heat to her house to 58 degrees in preparation for my visit. She lives off freebie food offerings at the local grocery stores. She bathes sparingly. She lives sparingly. she is grasping to do whatever she can do to keep her greatest asset and her greatest liability: her home.
The thing that struck me was a revelation that she has familiy members in the area. Family members with enough resources to help her out financially. They could buy her gift cards for Aldee's or Hy-Vee, but they choose not to. They could help her with some money given directly to her electric bill or her water bills, but they choose not to.
They choose not to because of religious disagreement. Jane is not right with God so Jane is reaping the rewards of her relationship with God. She is not praying enough to be healed. She is not doing enough to be healed by God. Healing is a gift of faith and she hasn't allowed herself the opportunity to accept this gift as evidenced by her current struggles.
These are her sisters -- her family -- who won't assist her in this time of great need. Because of her need.
This isn't the first time I've come across people like Jane. There was also "Joanne", who spent too many months with a local Pentecostal minister who promised to cure her of her manic-depression, but instead ended up pressuring her into marriage with a struggling ex-gay drug addict and in turn exacerbating her bipolar condition.
Sadly, I've also encountered this with young children -- children born with stuff like Down Syndrome, Fragile X, autism, or some other condition. Stuff that sets them apart from society either physically or mentally. Too many parents that I've worked with have been lectured by church members abou generational curses. More than a couple families have sought state funds from me to pay for plane tickets to far-away faith healers who will use God's blessings to fix the spiritual brokeness that obviously exists in these families and will in turn magically stitch these kids' chromosones into more typical patterns.
I've been watching the old 1980's "Friday the 13th" television series recently on DVD. The premise of the program is that two cousins spend each episode seeking out and securing cursed antiques that their uncle had disseminated into the community. Each antique offers a unique, Satanic gift to its owner: love, revenge, healing, money. But each gift comes with a price -- usually the life of some innocent.
There was one episode involving healing gloves. The faith healer would touch an afflicted person with the gloves and instantly cure that person of his illness. The gloves would then pass on a lethal dose of that recently-cured disease to the next person touched by the gloves. The faith healer would put on a huge production. Before curing the sick, he had them fall on their knees and yell out their unabashed belief in him and his power over disease. "I believe! I believe!" The sad joke was that belief had nothing to do with the cure.
And that is the literal curse that too many Christians find ourselves in when it comes to God's healing. the leper might be believed in God's salvation. He might not have. He asked for healing and it was offered to him. Not with preconditioned faith or demands. He was healed. Period.
This is a broken world with broken people. Many who are filled with great and pure faith. And yet, unless we're hit by a bus or struck by a bullet, we all succumb to illness, age, and death. Some find ourselves physically cured through faith -- through some sort of medical miracle, but it's alway just temporary. Most of the time, the biggest miracle that we experience is the fact that he live at all. Jesus had the power to do miracles, but he didn't always. He could have cured every leper, every diseased person, every disabled person, and every dead person he wanted if he chose to. He had the power to save himself when bloodied and broken on the cross, but he didn't. Because that wasn't his purpose.
His purpose whasn't and isn't to physically transform us into perfect health. His purpose was and is to transform us spiritually. To save us from our sins and our daily transgressions towards each other. To offer us hope and community within the church and after death.
By benefit of being God in physical form, Jesus Christ could perform miracles. That was his gift. Just like we all have gifts -- special skills. But focusing on His miracles and seekign them can become a crutch. Too often in the church, we lose sight of God's ultimate mission -- salvation -- and use the realities of life -- disease, poverty, natural disaster -- as signs of God's displeasure.
...
Please check out the original blog entry for Shay's story ...
A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats its least fortunate amongst them. Please keep that wisdom in mind as we close in prayer:
God, help us remain open to breaking free from our ruts. Help us recognize your gifts in all people. Help us to see every life as the miracle that you intended. Let us remeber that sometimes your greatest miracles are the loving interactions and comforts that we offer to each other in Your name. Amen.