St. Gabriel’s Church, Marion,
Massachusetts
The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling
August 25, 2019 11 Pentecost
My husband Paul likes to fish, and
thanks to a collaborative purchase with his father many years ago, God rest his
soul, Paul has enjoyed fishing from a boat. A few years ago, Paul upgraded this
boat, not only because he wanted a bigger and safer boat but also because he
wanted more power. He loves his new boat. And so do I, because he can go out
fishing on the ocean more safely, and I can join him for picnics in the bay. We
anchor in a place where the bugs don’t bite, the sand doesn’t get in your
bathing suit, the waves don’t knock you over, and I can plunge into the waters
without wondering if a great white shark is lurking beneath the surface.
Paul’s
boat has a navigational system upon which he relies for safety. Every year,
with shifting sands and rising tides, the landscape of Cape Cod keeps changing.
Finding your way out of the boatyard into the ocean can be treacherous,
especially if you don’t know what you’re doing and where you’re going. Into
this navigation system, Paul marks the shallow and deep waters and the buoys
that will guide his path from the harbor out to the ocean and back. Without
warning, fog has rolled in quickly and Paul hasn’t been able to see 15 feet in
front of him. At times like these, he has relied heavily on his navigation
system.
Did
I mention his new motors? He replaced one engine of 150 horsepower with two
engines of 200 horsepower each. That’s a total of 400 horsepower for a boat
that doesn’t need that much! Jokes about Paul’s manhood notwithstanding, the
engines provide an added level of safety. If one motor fails, the other one can
work. If needed, Paul can accelerate quickly to get out of a bad situation. And
when everything is working in unity, that is when Paul, the weather, the boat,
and the engines are all in harmony, I think it’s a theological image worth
exploring.
When
we are sick, or injured, or hurt in any way, our human navigation system is out
of tune. Conflicts and diseases will scramble our brains and our mouths. Like
the walking wounded, we will limp along with only one engine working. When
things go wrong, it’s as if we’re lost in a fog, and we can become fearful of
what is below the surface, or coming at us without warning. Bent over with the
burdens of our lives, we may feel the weight of our worries. At times like
these, we feel powerless. And our souls, the very center of our lives, the
navigational system that can lead us from one buoy to the next is not working.
Our batteries are dead; and our fuel tanks are empty.
Knowing
the truth of what ails us can set us free. It is far more tempting, however, to
deny our problems or those of others. We ignore the crippled woman or the
elephant in the room. We make excuses like Jeremiah, who said, “I can’t speak
for you, O God. I am only a boy.” We put up barriers, like the leader of the
synagogue who criticized Jesus for healing this woman on the sabbath. “Indeed,”
retorted Jesus. “You’re willing to unbind your animals on this day, and not
unbind this woman?”
Teresa
Berger writes, “In a story that is unique to Luke, Jesus heals a nameless woman
by giving her the freedom to unbend and stand up straight. The woman did not
ask to be healed. She simply finds herself in Jesus’ presence. This beautiful
story, however, is not without conflict. Jesus is criticized for this breach of
the law. He insists that the synagogue and the Sabbath are not the only things
that are holy, however—so is this woman’s life.” And so Jesus calls her over,
and laying his hands upon her, he heals her, unbinds her, and gives her new
life. (Teresa Berger, Christian Century, August 10, 2004)
Luke
is frequently called the Beloved Physician because of the numerous healing
stories found in this gospel. Already, Jesus has healed a man with an unclean
spirit, a man with demons, and the boy who had a spirit that seized him. Jesus
also healed a woman with a fever, a leper, a man with a withered hand, and a
paralytic. When she merely touched Jesus’ robe in a crowd, a woman was healed
of her hemorrhages. Then in another transfer of power, Jesus raised three different
people with a mere word and a gentle touch. “Rise, take my hand, stand up, and
walk.”.
Luke’s
gospel tells us about the healing power of God that came through Jesus. It is
also a story about a person in the midst of religious, economic, and political conflicts
in his country. When Jesus challenges his religious leaders, it was like a
family feud, like a teenager calling out his parents, or young adults
questioning their faith. Jesus complained about their hypocrisy, their lack of
response to the needs of their people, and their rigidity in following the
letter of the law rather than the spirit in which the laws were written. David
Tiede writes that the gospel story is a “fascinating and dire depiction of how
conquered people are divided and or even pitted against each other.” (Harper
Collins Study Bible (p.1954)
Is this not true with the conflicts that we
are having throughout our world today? We are conquered by sin, and oppress and
pit ourselves against each other, dividing into political, economic, national,
and religious camps. There is a common saying in 12 step communities that
addiction is a disease where family members will circle the wagons and then
shoot inside. We are all members of the human family, and all beloved children of God. Praying to God
and asking for help are good first steps towards healing, recovery, and
reconciliation.
In
her book entitled Healing in the Landscape of Prayer, Avery Brooke wrote, “It
is easy to tell people that you are feeling tense. It is not easy to tell
(people) the great ache in your heart because a relationship with your husband
or wife, son, daughter, or friend has fallen apart at the seams. Nor is it easy
to talk of your fears - losing your job, the operation you face, the death of
your mother. But when you do so and turn with hope to God through prayer, a
slow inner transformation begins that never fails to surprise people.” And so
we pray for our health and salvation.
Healing
is a slow process that reveals itself over time, and sometimes even surprises
us. Recovery from our wounds, whatever kinds they are, is also a spiritual
process. Conscious contact with God is the way we acknowledge that God is with
us on the journey and as a destination. Whatever our posture in prayer, and
wherever we may be, and for whatever we ask, whether we are standing bravely,
sitting quietly, kneeling, or lying low, the presence of God can bring us
health. Prayer is our request for God to jump start our batteries, put fuel in
our tanks, add power to our motors, and help us navigate our way home.
I
have come to believe in miracles; indeed as my coffee mug proudly proclaims,
“Expect a miracle.” Sometimes, like the sun breaking through the fog, these
miracles will appear suddenly. When you’re on that very small boat, on a very
large ocean, and you’re praying for help, look for signs of God’s presence all
around you. Sometimes they will look like buoys floating in the water.
Othertimes, God’s light will beam across the dark waters. Or we’ll hear the
bells tolling, waves crashing, and the horns of other boats coming to our
rescue. God is with us in the boat, in the water, on the land, and waiting for
us in the harbor. Our navigation system is called prayer.
Think
about what binds you today, what ails you, and what is crippling your spirit.
Ask for the healing that is needed for your family, our church, our nation, and
the world. We can go it alone, or we can ask for help. We can rely on our own
navigation systems or tap into God’s power. Look through the fog of this world
to the promised land, and then praise God for what God has done, is doing, and
will do for us today. Have courage, fill up your tanks, and start your engines.
Pray for God’s healing power.
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17
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