Sermon for May 22, 2022
John 5:1-9
It’s no great insight to point this out,
but I’ll say it anyway: All around us,
nearby and far away, we see brokenness in need of healing. If we look overseas, we find war in Ukraine,
as well as in Myanmar, Yemen, Afghanistan, and other countries.1 In Buffalo, New York, the community is still
reeling from last weekend’s hate-based shooting. Here in Kansas City, we’ve prayed for 100
people killed in violent acts so far this year,2 and Kansas City is
now on a pace to surpass last year’s homicide total.3 The pandemic that’s claimed more than 1
million American lives has become more an issue of politics than public
health. Across the country, people are
dealing with rising prices for everything including rent, and houselessness
continues to grow as a social and public-health issue – including here in
Brookside and Waldo. Sometimes, at least
for me, healing society’s wounds feels like an impossible dream.
So, imagine the situation of the man in
today’s Gospel reading, who’s been seeking healing for his affliction for 38
years. The man’s story is
fascinating. After all this time, and
all his consistent failure to find healing, you might think he’d either try
something different or make peace with his illness. But even after four decades, the man is still
coming to the pool, hoping maybe this time someone will help him. Don’t you wonder whether he ever asked anyone
for help? Don’t you wonder whether anyone
ever offered? Or, after 38 years, has
the pattern simply become set: Although
this sick man keeps hoping healing will come, he keeps pursuing it in a ritual
of failure. And, just as sad, his
community apparently doesn’t even notice him anymore.
Why does this go on? He’s not finding healing, that’s for
sure. But is this broken present system
somehow working for him and his community?
Is he receiving the reward of righteous indignation at those who fail to
help him get better? Are those around
him receiving the reward of moral superiority as they watch him fail and figure
it’s his fault? If people weren’t
getting some need met by the dysfunction, the system wouldn’t still be
going on like this after 38 years.
Does this sound at all familiar? I can’t help but see parallels to the
dysfunction we see, day in and day out.
I think we create rituals of failure for the brokenness that afflicts
us. Every time there’s a mass shooting,
we move into a patterned response of outcry, prayer, vigil, and blame … with
nothing changing as a result. Every time
there’s a shooting on our own streets, we see the story in the news, lament
another lost child of God (usually black or brown), and pray for them on Sunday
… with nothing changing as a result. We
see houseless people on streetcorners or at storefronts, asking for cash to
meet their daily needs, and we struggle with whether we’re supposed to give
them cash or food or just acknowledge their presence … but nothing changes as a
result. Now, I’m no sociologist, but I
can see this much: These rituals of
failure have at least one thing in common, and that’s isolation. We approach them as individuals reacting to isolated
situations. It’s like every morning
seeing the man at the pool who’s been sick for 38 years but forgetting that you
saw him the day before and never mentioning him to anyone else there.
The powers that work against God’s
purposes thrive on our isolation. And
until we break free from seeing ourselves as independent agents facing unique
and unrelated problems, there’s a good chance our rituals of failure will
continue. As long as we look to
ourselves to solve our problems, rather than looking to our communities as
places to build bridges of healing, we will lament and cast blame … and stay
stuck in the brokenness we know so well.
I probably sound more judgey than I intend
because I know I’m guilty of the same thing.
I certainly follow patterns that really aren’t working for me. My guess is that you can think of a few of
your own. And as the Church, oh my
goodness are we talented at doing the same things over and over and expecting a
different outcome! Where we do see
resurrection in the Church, it comes from asking different questions about an
“unsolvable” problem or trying on new points of view. But, like gravity, “the way we’ve always done
it” keeps holding us down.
To turn away from our rituals of failure,
especially our patterns of isolation and individual response, and to turn
toward God’s healing instead … it takes practice. Patterns don’t change unless we do things
differently and build muscle memory for new ways we might seek and offer
healing. Let me share a couple of
examples from our experience here at St. Andrew’s.
As you probably know, we’ve offered an
Outreach ministry called the Free Store for several years. It’s been a great event, an opportunity for
scores of us to gather downtown and provide food and clothing for people at risk
in the cold. Unfortunately, this past
December, the number of guests was much lower than in the past. So, to help us think differently about this
ministry and how best to help heal the brokenness of people going cold and
hungry, parishioner Melissa Rock convened a gathering of other churches and
relief organizations that also address this need. Just in the space of 90 minutes, we began
asking really rich questions about the Free Store. Should it happen at a different time of
year? Should it take place in a
different location, or in multiple locations, or maybe as a mobile effort? Could we partner with other churches or
schools or service agencies to leverage their experience and their
networks? And at the heart of all these
questions is an even richer one: How can we disrupt the patterns we’ve created
so our healing can work better?
Here’s another example from our Outreach
ministries. Last year, led by
parishioner Janet Kelley, we began working with a church on the city’s East
Side, St. James United Methodist, to help heal the brokenness of people in our
city lacking the essentials of life. We
wanted to learn from St. James and then come alongside them to join in. So St. Andrew’s members worked with St. James
members at their Sharefest event in the fall, packing up literally tons of food
for distribution, as well as volunteering at St. James’ weekly food
pantry. So, a few weeks ago, Janet
Kelley, Melissa Rock, Jean Kiene, and I met with people from St. James to see
how we might come alongside them on another event – Connecting Community, which
will happen at St. James on Saturday, June 25.
They were planning to offer people food, toiletries, clothing, and
diapers, as well as a free community lunch.
We mentioned an idea some of us had been kicking around – Laundry Love,
where volunteers provide free use of the washers and dryers in a laundromat and
talk with people as they come in. It
turns out, the folks at St. James had wanted to do just that kind of thing …
and there’s a laundry directly across the street from their church. And the Holy Spirit grinned.
I think these examples point us to
something vital, something Jesus teaches across his ministry: that we are
stronger together than we are on our own.
Free Store will be stronger for us having shared our hopes and our
frustrations with potential partners also trying to help people secure housing,
food, and clothing. Working with St.
James on their Connecting Community project, we’ll bring added value to ministry
that’s already strong, and we’ll build our muscles of collaboration with other
Jesus followers who want to heal the same wounds we feel called to heal. After all, it’s right there in our parish’s
purpose and mission statement: “We
seek God’s healing love and share that love with all by growing in relationship
with God, each other, and our neighbors.”
So, here’s my tiny challenge to us today as we imagine what a community approach to healing might look and feel like. It might surprise you to hear this, but we have the opportunity every Sunday to live into that kind of healing right here, in this very room. Every Sunday, there are members of the Order of St. Luke standing in the chapel and in the columbarium, ready to pray with you for the healing of whatever might be broken. In fact, today, we’re commissioning five new members of OSL, anointing them with holy oil that they might be God’s instruments of healing in our church family. So, here’s my challenge: Consider stopping by the OSL station on your way back from receiving Communion. Consider asking someone for healing prayer. I know that makes many of us uncomfortable, the thought of sharing our needs or our brokenness with others. But “with others” is precisely how Jesus goes about working healing in us and through us. The fact that it pushes us a bit past our comfort zone might be evidence that seeking healing in community, rather than in isolation, is just what the heavenly Doctor ordered.
1.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_ongoing_armed_conflicts
2.
https://www.kansascity.com/news/local/crime/article257005492.html
3.
https://www.kansascity.com/news/local/crime/article261177247.html
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