St George's Cathedral, Cape Town

Sermon by the Reverend Sarah Rowland-Jones, St George's Cathedral, Sunday 26 August 2007

Healing and Wholeness in All of Life

Jer 28:1-9, Ps 126, Rom 8:18-38, Lk 13:20-33
(21st Sunday, Yr 3, substituted Psalm and Epistle)

'I consider the suffering of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us!' says Paul with great confidence.

The words of today's collect acknowledge that the rest of us may need a little help to feel so positive in the fact of life's difficulties: 'For the sake of the joy that lay ahead of him, your Son endured the cross and accepted the shame: give us grace to bear our sufferings and bring us to the glory that shall be revealed...'

My task today is to bring together all we have heard in our series on Jesus, the Compassionate Healer, and to consider how it is that we find 'healing and wholeness in all of life'

Let us remind ourselves of what we have heard so far.

Revd Peter Fox spoke about the reality of dying and what it means to die well. He said 'you have to be healed before you die, or dying is messy.' Being healed, he said, is about living in the light of Christ, and finding his Spirit in us, so that we can be reconciled – to God, to others, and to our own selves and our mortality. He said we have to learn to love and to let go. To be healed is to be fully human – to know ourselves to be carriers of the radiant presence of Jesus, in that part of ourselves that lives beyond death, and like him, to allow ourselves to begin to be transfigured even as we live.

Deacon Terry Fleischer spoke about how, in today's world we want God to be a repair man on stand by, to fix our problems when needed. But this is not who God is, nor how he wants to deal with us. He wants to bring us healing, of sin, and of all that hurts our our deepest selves. He does this by coming alongside us in love, taking flesh, suffering and dying. He wants to be involved in the whole of our lives, so we may find ourselves transformed by that encounter, just as the lives of those Jesus encountered in the gospels were transformed.

Revd Bongani Finca addressed spoke of the moral malaise resulting from the way the undermining of the institution of the family, and of a government that claimed to be successful politically and economically, while people remained excluded, hungry, dying. Brokenness in local communities, brokenness in our national life, both require the same solution - to let the love of Christ be incarnate within us, lived out by us. It is the love of Christ crucified – there is no cheap grace without the cross – a love that not only embraces our own, but reaches out to the 'other'. We must learn to be a caring and compassionate community within our walls, and beyond our walls.

The theme that ran through all three sermons was encapsulated in the old chorus, which Bongani ended by quoting: 'Saviour, hear my humble cry, do not pass me by.'

The presence of Jesus with us – transfigured, crucified, risen – is what makes the difference in suffering and brokenness – indeed, in all of life.

Did you notice last Monday's prayer on our calendar for the month of compassion? 'Religion is what you do with suffering.'

What do we do, what do we really do, when we face suffering?

Terry spoke about a theologian and philosopher, who, when his son was killed in an accident, said that he did not want answers from God (though there are some elegant philosophical theories), he wanted to know that God was with him in his despair and sat beside him on the mourning bench.

Life is life, and tough things happen. It is right that we often feel helpless, especially in the face of suffering and mortality. There is nothing we can do to change the fact that we will one day die. Actually there is very little of life we can control.

So the choice we are faced with is this – will we deal with life with the companionship of the compassionate Christ, who does know how to face life and death – or will we turn our back on him and take responsibility for handling our life on our own?

Put like that, the choice seems obvious – I'd rather face the life, good times and bad, WITH God, than without him.

Yet this is tricky. As our gospel said, the choice is between a narrow and a wide gate. Our heads tell us the Bible is full of reassurances of God's love. Our guts are not always so certain. Perhaps we are afraid we will not get the answers we want?

The challenge is – do we dare to believe and trust the promises of God?

In the wonderful passage from Paul's letter to the Romans (which really deserves a whole sermon series all to itself) we read how suffering and turmoil are part of the condition of creation, but that nonetheless, nothing can separate us from the love of God that is ours in Jesus Christ. Absolutely nothing – nothing in this life can separate us. And death itself cannot separate us.

Do we dare to believe and trust that God really does love us this much?

Paul even asserts this: 'We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.' As another translation puts it 'in all things God works for the good of those who love him – who are called according to his purpose.'

This certainly does not mean that all things are good. By no means. The Bible is full of accounts of situations that make God angry or distressed. But there is no situation so awful that God cannot work in it for good.

So the question is, do we actually dare to believe this? Do we dare to live as if it were true?

Do we dare to put our hand in the hand of the living God, and ask him to bring his 'good' out of our situation? And are we prepared to let him define what that good might be, especially when our circumstances are difficult and we know what quick fix solution we would really like?

This is a big ask! It is to pray 'thy will be done' more radically than we had realised possible.

This is what the Psalmist is speaking of when he says 'those that sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy; those who goes our weeping bearing the seed shall come again in gladness, bringing their sheaves with them.'

The Psalmist does not say, those who weep shall have joy.

It is those who, even as they weep, carry on with life – carry on acting as though new life will come – who find joy. They do not do nothing until they get the answer they want. They do not give up hope. They sow for the future. They continue to act in ways that open up the possibilities of growth and development. If they refused to sow, how could there be harvest?

When we face suffering, we must continue to sow, in the life of faith – continue to do the things that bring life and growth – prayer, reading the Bible, coming to the Eucharist – being fed in word and sacrament.

This is the conscious decision of the will to 'act as if' we really do believe what we want to believe, what we half believe from the neck up. Life coaches are always telling people to envision who they'd like to become and then act as if they were already there. I think they stole the idea from Scripture!

What does it mean to act as if I believe? I want God to work for good not only 'in all things' – but in MY 'things', here, now!

When Justus was sick and dying, this was my prayer: OK God, I give EVERYTHING to you, so you can work in it for good TO THE MAX. I'm holding nothing back, so don't you, either!

It really made a difference – trusting God brought a shalom peace I'd not known and a strength to cope, and those last months were full of tender happiness.

I realised something more – giving God everything – Lord, the ball is entirely in your court – is a good strategy for all of life. indeed, it is the absolute best strategy!

We need to wrestle with Jesus, and pull him right into the heart of all our circumstances.

Tell him about everything: hopes, fears, joys, angers, plans, frustrations. If we haven't got the words, as Paul says, the Spirit will pray through our groanings. The more we share with him, the more we involve him! And the more he is there with us, the more we will experience his transforming presence.

As the first letter of Peter says, 'Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you' (1 Pet 5:7). Do not be worried about being polite boys and girls. God wants our honesty.

The Psalms are full of complaints about how tough life is.

God invites us to be like a small child, who, when life is not as he wants it, sits in his father's lap, his father's arms around him – and beats his father's chest 'Daddy, I hate you, I hate you!'

Or take Job – whose honesty is commended. He never knows God and Satan are having a bet as to how faithful he will be if he loses his family, wealth, health. He complains at how unfair God is, because God will not argue with him face to face.

Listen to these words '… I will give free utterance to my complaint, I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. I will say to God “Do not condemn me; let me know why you contend against me. Does it seem good to oppress, to despise the work of your hands? … Your hands fashioned and made me; and now you turn and destroy me.”' (10:1b,2,8)

He never gets an answer to his question of why all this is happening to him. Instead God gives him an experience of his power and might.

Realising God is God satisfies Job. He says 'I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you.' (42:5) He had gone from knowing about God to actually knowing God.

Some languages have two words for knowing, to know facts and to know personally. I am told that in Afrikaans this is weet and ken. Ek weet – facts. Ek ken van buite (I know, by heart).

In suffering we need to know, to ken, God's love, God's presence. We can only do that by opening ourselves up to him, with all our pain. And the more open we are, the more we can receive God's love and his transforming presence.

Job realises God is God, and he 'repents of his ash heap' – he gets up from the pile of ash in which he has been sitting complaining, poor old me – and he gets on with life, without waiting for God to bring healing.

God offers us the invitation to trust him, to trust his love, in good times and in tough times. It is just for us to take the first step, and dare to believe, and dare to act as if we believe.

Then we will find Jesus really is alongside us when we need him. Then we will find that in all things God does work for good, and brings the continuing healing and wholeness that our lives need.

'Religion is what you do with suffering' said Monday's little thought.

Actually 'Religion is what we do with life.'

Dare to believe!

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