"Freed for..."

Mark 1:29-30

Sunday, February 8, 2015

First Congregational United Church of Christ – Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Last week, Jesus was casting out unclean spirits. This week, he’s healing Simon’s mother-in-law from a mysterious illness and then curing folks who were sick from all kinds of illness and casting out more demons.

I kind of stopped praying for miracle cures a long time ago. I’ve known too many people who have died from all kinds of awful diseases. Especially cancer – which, truly, if cancer were a person I might walk up to it and punch it in the face. I’m a pretty nonviolent person, but I’ve been known to curse and scream and cry a lot in the face of watching beloved children of God die from that wretched disease.

Where’s Jesus when we need him? Why can’t he just show up with his magic touch, say a few words, and cure those we love? 

When I think of those who I’ve watched march that steady journey from healthy, vibrant, seemingly unstoppable people to those who have lost the light in their eyes and are clearly ready to leave this world, I will always think of Lauri. Lauri died almost a year ago on a cold, sunny Saturday in early March. It was at the end of a long, hard winter and as I sat with her in hospice, I told her stories of spring. I told her about how the birds were starting to sing and the days were getting longer. I thanked her for all she had taught me and I whispered to her the hope of Resurrection.

I have no idea if Lauri heard me. But one of the things I thanked her for was how she had opened up my understanding of the word healing. When Lauri first came to our congregation she had already survived two rounds of cancer. She told me that figured it was only a matter of time until it came for her again. I preferred to live in denial, but she, of course, knew her body better than I did.

Shortly after she was diagnosed for the third time, I saw her in church one Sunday. By the way, the story I’m telling you is one I told at her funeral. I asked her ahead of time if it would be okay if I shared it with other people. Anyway, I knew Lauri had recently made the decision not to pursue any of the medical treatments available to her. I came up to her after worship and asked her how she was doing. I really wanted to know. Lauri was one of those people that always really wanted to know how you were when she asked you how you were doing, too. Lauri told me that she felt good. She felt peaceful. And then she said something I’ll never forget. She said, “I’m ready to begin working on my healing.”

I guess I looked surprised. She saw my surprise and gave me a gentle smile and said, “You know, Caela, healing isn’t always physical.”

As I watched Lauri walk towards death, it was clear to me that she would not be physically healed. Not by the doctors, not by the alternative treatments she tried, not by praying, not by sheer force of will. And yet – I would be lying to you unless I told you the truth: I believe she was healed. She was not cured, no. But I saw her spirit transformed. I saw her freed up to be the mother, sister, friend, teacher, human being she was called to be. Even at the end, her spirit was just so vibrant. You couldn’t help but look in her eyes and know that she was being healed in some very serious ways.

So when I read in Mark’s Gospel about Jesus miraculously healing people, I try to keep my mind’s eye on Lauri. I try to remember what she taught me: that healing isn’t always physical. It doesn’t have to be the same thing as a cure.

When Jesus went to his friend’s house to heal his mother-in-law he wasted no time. He healed her. And then she wasted no time. She jumped up and started to serve the others who were gathered in her home.

Some people are frustrated with this part of the story. I mean, as a feminist living in the 21^st century, I get it – it’s annoying that her first act upon being healed is to start taking care of all the men around her. Bringing them food, waiting on them hand and foot. Come on. Why’s it gotta be that way?

But then, on the other hand, it doesn’t do us a ton of good to try and impose our social norms and expectations on Jesus’s world. Simon’s mother-in-law was about as likely to take on a male task like teaching in the synagogue as she was to become an astronaut. It just wasn’t likely to happen.

The fact was, her job as a woman in the ancient near east was to take care of people around her. To offer hospitality. The actual word that is used is diakonos – which is where we get the word deacon. It means to minister to another person.  And I have to think -  getting the chance to minister to Jesus? That’s not a bad gig regardless of one’s gender.

Since serving was what was expected of her, it was really how she found her worth as a woman. And so, if she was sick, she was not able to do her job. It can be frustrating chen physical limitations keep us from being able to do our job, right? Maybe one or two sick days can be a nice break, but then I start wishing I could get back at it again – become a contributing member of society. Go back to doing  our regular stuff and doing it well -  whether that’s at the university or a shop or in your own home caring for children or volunteering out there in the community.  Most of us enjoy feeling useful.

I’m assuming Simon’s mother-in-law was no different. And when Jesus came, she was not only healed but restored. It’s not just that her fever went away, it’s that she was restored to her place in the community. Freed from the fever in order to serve others. Back to her regular work. I bet it felt really good.

David Lose, upon examining this passage from Mark, notes, “Jesus frees us not only from things that seek to oppress us, but also for a life of purpose and meaning.”[i]

When Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law she didn’t just sit around. She jumped up and lived more fully into her life. She was freed from the fever and freed for ministry.

When we focus on what we need to be freed from we are looking backwards. When we also consider what we might be freed for, we are oriented towards the future. I

f we were able to truly confront those things which possess us and, with Christ’s help, find a way to loose their power over us….what might we do next? What might we be freed up to do? Would we, like Simon’s mother-in-law, jump up and begin offering hospitality to everyone around us? Or perhaps our ministry would look completely different. Maybe we would advocate for justice or creatively confront systems of poverty. Maybe your call is to visit the sick or the imprisoned. Maybe your call is to proclaim the good news. Maybe your call is to bless others and remind them that they are loved more fully than they can every comprehend by the one who loved us all into being.

The possibilities are endless.

And then I think of Lauri. Her healing wasn’t physical. And so she was never freed up to lobby Congress or feed the hungry or any of those things. But she was freed from fear. Lauri walked as steadily and surely towards death as any I’ve ever seen. She did so with grace and assurance. She had no idea what was coming next, but she was not anxious. She was assured that the same God who had loved her completely in this world would somehow care for her in the next. She trusted that Holy Spirit of Love to parent her grown children when she was no longer able to do so. As I watched Lauri die I was reminded of the words we heard today from Isaiah, “God gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for God shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

Lauri died with grace and dignity, fully assured that she was a beloved child of God.  I don’t know about you, but, truly, when I think of my big life goals, dying well is right up there at the top of the list. Lauri died well. She was free.

As I pondered this concept of being freed for ministry this past week, I found myself wondering what we might be freed for as a congregation. What are we being called to do together?

I talked to Pastor Kent earlier this week on the phone. For those of you who are newer to the congregation, Kent was the pastor here from 2000 to 2011. I told Kent how thankful I was for his competent ministry here and that so many of you speak of him often and fondly. I told him how much I admire his strength. When Kent was called here, there was controversy because Kent is openly gay. We lost some members over that decision and I am sure it was a painful experience for everyone involved. It was a brave decision that the church made. I’m fairly certain Kent was the first openly-gay pastor of any Christian church in Kansas. I can’t imagine that there would have been another before us, right?

So when Kent was called there was a healing that had to take place afterwards. The congregation had to find a way to pick back up, find restoration, and re-orient ourselves towards the ministry we were called to offer the world. And one of the things we discovered in the midst of that was that we are called to be an open and affirming church. We are freed from fear and anxiety about being a little bit “out there” and different than other churches in town. And we are freed for proclaiming a gospel of radical inclusiveness….that God’s love is bigger than we could fathom.

One of the things that happens to those of us who have been in Open and Affirming churches for a while is that we forget just how radical this is. I have the privilege of being reminded because I all-too-frequently have the opportunity to sit with people who have been deeply wounded by other churches. I listen to people tearfully tell me about outright abuse they have faced as gay, lesbian, or bisexual people in the church. I hear stories of how parents and siblings and grandparents have disowned one of their own family members because that person is transgender….and all in the name of Jesus, of course.

It makes me feel really sad and angry and disgusted and horrified. And then I get to do what I always do when I meet with one of these people. I look them right in the eyes and I say, “I want you to hear me say this. I am saying it in the name of Jesus Christ. There is nothing wrong with your sexuality or gender identity. You are God’s beloved child and God is well-pleased with you. And there are churches like ours that will love you just as you are. You don’t have to change a thing.”

It doesn’t undo every hurt that’s ever been done to them in the name of Jesus. Not at all. But I want you to know how very important it is that we are offering these words of love together. They are words of healing. They are a balm. And they are offered from our church to the world around us because we have been freed for this work together. It is one of the many things we are called to do as a congregation.

So when I read this passage, I find myself dreaming about what else we might be freed for.  I wonder….where are the other people and places that need to be transformed? How else can we participate in healing ourselves and the world around us? If Jesus were here today and healed us, what might we jump up and do?

After the service today, you are invited to stay for a brief service of healing. I’ve recruited several people from our congregation to be present and pray with you. Bob wil lstay and bless us with some quiet music. You can talk to one of our healers and tell them what ails you. You can be assured it will be held in confidence...they may tell me about it, but no one else will need to know. Remember, healing is not the same as a cure. But these healers from our own congregation come to you in the name of Jesus, prepared to offer you prayer and a healing touch. It is our deepest hope that you will leave this place knowing that Christ walks with you, transforming you into the person you were made to be. Freeing you from whatever ails you and freeing you for the life you are called to live.

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[i] http://www.davidlose.net/2015/02/epiphany-5-b-freedom-for/