Sermon on June 6, 2010
Sermon for the Episcopal Church of St John the Baptist, Capitola,
given by Rev. Steve Ellis
The Episcopal Church of Saint John the Baptist welcomes all to worship God and to share Christ's love in the world. We are a parish family committed to provide liturgy, Bible study, music, counseling, and Christian education for children, youth, and adults, and to equip all our members for life and for service to others.
O God, from whom all good proceeds: Grant that by your inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by your merciful guiding may do them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Old Testament Lesson
The word of the LORD came to Elijah, saying, "Go now to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you." So he set out and went to Zarephath. When he came to the gate of the town, a widow was there gathering sticks; he called to her and said, "Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink." As she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, "Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand." But she said, "As the LORD your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die." Elijah said to her, "Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the LORD the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the LORD sends rain on the earth." She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD that he spoke by Elijah.
[After this, the son of the woman, the mistress of the house at Zarephath, became ill; his illness was so severe that there was no breath left in him. She then said to Elijah, "What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son!" But he said to her, "Give me your son." He took him from her bosom, carried him up into the upper chamber where he was lodging, and laid him on his own bed. He cried out to the LORD, "O LORD my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I am staying, by killing her son?" Then he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried out to the LORD, "O LORD my God, let this child's life come into him again." The LORD listened to the voice of Elijah; the life of the child came into him again, and he revived. Elijah took the child, brought him down from the upper chamber into the house, and gave him to his mother; then Elijah said, "See, your son is alive." So the woman said to Elijah, "Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is truth."]1 Kings 17:8-16 (17-24)
Psalm
1 Hallelujah!
Praise the LORD, O my soul! *
I will praise the LORD as long as I live;
I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.
2 Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, *
for there is no help in them.
3 When they breathe their last, they return to earth, *
and in that day their thoughts perish.
4 Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help!*
whose hope is in the LORD their God;
5 Who made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them; *
who keeps his promise for ever;
6 Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, *
and food to those who hunger.
7 The LORD sets the prisoners free;
the LORD opens the eyes of the blind; *
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down;
8 The LORD loves the righteous;
the LORD cares for the stranger; *
he sustains the orphan and widow,
but frustrates the way of the wicked.
9 The LORD shall reign for ever, *
your God, O Zion, throughout all generations.
Hallelujah!
Psalm 146 Page 803, BCP
New Testament Lesson
I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.
You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.
Then after three years I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and stayed with him fifteen days; but I did not see any other apostle except James the Lord's brother. In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie! Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, and I was still unknown by sight to the churches of Judea that are in Christ; they only heard it said, "The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy." And they glorified God because of me.
Galatians 1:11-24
Gospel
Soon after healing the centurion's slave, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother's only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, "Do not weep." Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, "Young man, I say to you, rise!" The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, "A great prophet has risen among us!" and "God has looked favorably on his people!" This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.
Luke 7:11-17
Sermon
Stories like these just make me miserable. I mean, I love this bit of St. Paul’s history, and it tells us a lot about his work. But these miracle stories, some of the most spectacular in the Hebrew Scriptures or the Gospels, they bother me today. I could respond, I suppose, in so many ways: these people had faith, a good example, these are moments that made them know God was with them, I could rejoice with them. Or I could question the way they observed and understood the world, and whether these things happened as they are told. But that is not what is bothering me.
God gives the widow of Zarephath meal and oil to outlast the famine. God allows Elijah to raise the widow’s son from death or the appearance of death. God allows Jesus to raise from the dead the only son of a widow in Nain even as he’s about to be buried. I struggle when we tell these stories, because I don’t want to doubt God, and I don’t want to have false hope, and I don’t want to give false hope, and I do want wonderful things to happen.
I fight my limits. There are things in my family and in my world that I want to be able to fund. Things in our children’s lives I’d like to participate in. There are needs that need to be met, all around us. I hate the limitations we have to live with. Don’t we all? Every one of us can tell that story, whatever our circumstances.
Does this mean I’m ungrateful for all my blessings? I don’t think so. It means I’m having trouble with trust.
When one of us gets sick, I wish I had the prayer-power that Elijah had on this occasion, that Jesus had during the funeral procession in this morning’s story. I wish we could cure all diseases. And reading these stories together is painful when the need is acute, when people are in pain, or sick, when we have loved ones whose lives are in danger.
I am deeply grateful that I’ve learned to live in the providence of God a little through the years. That I’ve learned the courage to pray for healing, and watch all the things that God does, sometimes in body, sometimes in growth and faith, sometimes in healing relationships and the inner life. Prayer does heal, or God does. But it doesn’t heal everything, and I hate the limitations.
And I’m grateful that I’m learning to live in-between. I get angry at God a lot. I’m grateful for the Psalms, for their language of being so honest with God, full-throated anger, heart-felt praise, its all in there, and I need it, because I need to be honest with God, and I need to learn to live in God’s world, not mine. I pray for what I hope for – boldly – and then I surrender and report for duty.
I don’t try to get the prayer pared down to what my little mind can get itself around. I don’t try to protect myself from disappointment by only asking for what I’m sure God will give. Who would I be kidding? I’d still know what I wanted, and know I was trying to kid God, and God would know what I wanted and what I was afraid to ask for. So I ask. I ask with all my heart. And I remember that I’m not God. Is this the time for a miracle? Which kind of miracle?
I know God loves us, each one. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt that love for myself and I’ve felt the power of God’s love for others. I know God loves us, and part of me knows that God knows how to be God, so I ask and I trust. When I can’t do that, I yell at God for a while. And then I ask and I trust as best I can. And God works.
I am convinced of this, that God works. I’m convinced that our prayers are heard and that God works. Not always in the way I want, but always works in hearts and minds and bodies and spirits and families and communities as we ask and make ourselves available. So when my resources are not adequate to the task as I see it, or when my prayers are not adequate to the situation, I trust that God is at work and that providence will surprise me. So I won’t pretend that I don’t want what I want, but I also won’t cling to the outcome I have in mind as the only right answer. I cling to God, not what I want.
It isn’t an easy thing to do, to have faith in God’s goodness, what we used to call Providence, and I’m a slow learner. But I do the best I can. I want to sing you a song of faith. I’ve sung it before. It is a song that breaks my heart – not because I can say, “YES! THAT IS THE ANSWER!” but because it calls up the best in me. It doesn’t solve anything but it helps me re-enter a state of faith.
It tells the story of Israel, in the wilderness, afraid that God won’t provide for them. See if it speaks to you.