Texts: Isaiah 58:9b-14; Hebrews 12:18-29; Luke 13:10-17
It's perhaps worth reminding ourselves again that this is the period of the year in which we are invited to read the Scriptures to deepen our understanding of Christian discipleship. What is involved in following Christ? What do the Scriptures say about that?
Sometimes, of course, it's spelt out pretty clearly for us. When Jesus tells us the Parable of the Good Samaritan, he ends with the words, "Now go and do likewise". We may not always like the idea of doing likewise in particular circumstances, but at least we're not left wondering what Jesus meant. There is a clear lesson on discipleship there for us, whether or not we want to learn it.
But what are we to take from today's gospel reading? What does it tell us we should do as disciples of Christ? Well, here's one possibility. When we come to church we should look around carefully in the hope that there is a terribly crippled person present, someone who has been bent double for many years. Then we will know what we are to do, won't we? We are to lay hands on her and heal her. That's what Jesus would do, so that's what we should do as his disciples!
Now, let's just suppose for a moment that something like that actually happened here in St Barnabas. Then what? How would we respond to such a happening? Would we do the Oprah Winfrey thing – scream and yell as loud as we could, give each other high fives, hugs and back-thumps? Or would we take a more businesslike, pragmatic approach? Would we see the marketing potential in such an event? Find ourselves a good web-page designer and have this healing featured on our website? Or ring the news hotline at the ODT or TVNZ? It could mean the end of our financial woes for a while, after all.
Or would we ask ourselves the question we should be asking ourselves: what does this mean for our lives as disciples? And if we did remember to ask ourselves that correct question, what would the correct answer be?
Before we try to grapple with that, let's try another basic approach to the gospel story. Instead of focussing on the human element – the person healed and our own response to such a healing – what happens if we focus on God? For surely such an event as this miraculous healing could only mean one thing – God is present. Only God can heal such a person in such a way. So if such a thing happened in St Barnabas – here among us and in our sight – it could only mean that God was present here among us though not in our sight. How then would we respond?
Would the Oprah Winfrey approach still seem appropriate – wild, loud praise and celebration? Or would we be more likely to heed the words of our reading from Hebrews this morning and "worship God acceptably with reverence and awe"? Would we be more likely to fall silent, or even fall prostrate, than to leap about cheering, or, perhaps, cover our embarrassment with flippant remarks? And while we think about these questions for a moment, here's a bigger question. Why are we assuming these questions are hypothetical?
We are talking as if that ain't ever going to happen here. But what isn't? A miracle healing, or the same miracle of God's presence here among us in St Barnabas without a miracle healing? And if the latter, then we have forgotten something – in fact, we have forgotten rather a lot. But one thing in particular stands out – the first words spoken in our Great Thanksgiving. In a few minutes I will be standing behind our Holy Table and I will say to you "The Lord is here." And without looking too astonished or overwhelmed you will respond, "God's Spirit is with us."
Are they just words, or do they mean what they say? I could change them without change the sense of it: I could say something like this: The Living God who manifested his presence in Jesus Christ that day in the synagogue by healing the crippled woman is now here among us in St Barnabas manifested in this bread and this wine. And I would be right, wouldn't I?
So perhaps one important thing we can learn from this gospel story this morning, and from our reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, to strengthen our discipleship is to remember that whenever we come to this holy place, we have come to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. We have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly – to the church of the firstborn whose names are written in heaven. We have come to God, the judge of all people, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant. All those are present here among us in St Barnabas this morning and whenever we gather here to worship God acceptably with reverence and awe.
That's a pretty important lesson for us as disciples of Christ, but there's more. It seems to me that there is a third way of reading this story, and this may even be the one Jesus meant us to use. It seems to me that this story is not really about the woman who was miraculous healed –at least, not primarily about her. What Jesus wants us to look at, perhaps, is the attitude of the religious elders. This is their synagogue – they are the stalwarts who have set it up – put their time, money and other resources into it. They come week after week after week, they clean the brass and mow the grass (well, their wives do!). The last thing they want is some passing visitor coming in and turning the heads of the faithful with some healing stunt! They run it. They know how things should be done.
So hung up are they on prerogatives and protocol that they are completely blind to the irony of their position. They are trying to enforce God's law, as they believe it to be, against God himself. They don't realise it because they don't recognise God in their presence. They have never witnessed God do anything like this before, so it doesn't occur to them that this miracle in their synagogue is the work of God.
So here's another lesson about discipleship. Notice what is happening and look for God's hand in it. When we notice what God is doing we may discover a new call to get involved. At the very least we will discover new grounds for thanksgiving and praise. No one had to tell the woman what to do next: as soon as she could, "she straightened up and praised God". And she wasn't the only one, was she? St Luke ends the story, "the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing".
And there, perhaps, is the most important lesson for us as disciples this morning. Whether it is the Sabbath or any other day of the week, we are called to delight in what God is doing. It is all too easy and all too human for us to be bent over with the cares of the world. We are bombarded with bad news from all parts of the globe, and it's right that we should care and suffer with the victims. Isaiah calls upon God's people to "spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed". But in the same passage this morning he calls upon us to "call the Sabbath a delight and the Lord's holy day honourable". And against the bad news of the world, we have the good news of Jesus Christ.
We have the presence of the living God here among us in St Barnabas. In him is our delight. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment