Monday, February 06, 2012

Sermon: Epiphany 5, The Very Rev. Anthony Thurston

“And he came and took her by the hand a lifted her up and the fever left her; and she served them. That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick with various diseases and cast out many demons.”

No one I know—doctor, philosopher, member of the clergy, nor anyone else can explain the reality of suffering and disease in the way that it distorts human lives. People curse God, they blame the devil, or they may even refuse to accept any responsibility for the problems they face. Often God seems to take the brunt of any physical or mental problem by our suggesting that it is God’s way of teaching us a lesson.

However, there is, in suffering, sometimes a place where we grow and which compels in us respect and sometimes even silences as we experience the wholeness of God. And most of us here, at one time or another, have been brought to silent wisdom through some kind of knowledge of suffering and disease.


Our gospel lesson for today is one that deals with the subject of disease. Some people experience a lifelong struggle against chronic diseases, permanent handicaps and disabilities. Other people may have temporary or occasional problems with disease. And the question that I would like to raise today is, ‘what part does religion play in the battle against disease?’

The answer, I believe, is that there are two extremely different viewpoints. According to one view, religion plays the whole part in disease. Christian Scientists believe, as nearly as I can tell that God is good and that disease is evil. God, therefore, could not have made disease and that human beings make disease by their own imperfect and impure thinking. Disease can be destroyed by correcting our thinking and purifying our beliefs.

On the other side, there are many more people who believe that religion has no part in the issue of disease at all, and I think that even most Christians accept this point of view in practice. Prayers may be said when we are sick, but you and I mostly hold the view that religion doesn’t play any significant role when it comes to understanding disease.

This is why most doctors and most clergy do their profession independent of each other. The clergypersons sphere is the soul while the doctor’s sphere is the body. Often clergy and doctors work on friendly terms, but mostly their paths don’t cross and each assumes that the other person—priest or doctor—hasn’t much to do with each other.

I want to propose, however, a third point of view—a viewpoint that is expressed in the New Testament. Jesus talked about health and healing often as part of his ministry and his way was always expressed in action. We see this clearly in his healing of Peter’s mother in our gospel today.

Let me recall four areas which describe the action of Jesus and you decide what his point of view was on this subject of the healing of disease.

The first is that Jesus made sick people well: “And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in the synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every infirmity.”

Secondly, Jesus often made people well before he attempted to preach and teach them: “and whenever he entered a village or city or the country, they laid the sick in the streets and as many as were touched were made whole.” Keep in mind—this happened before he preached about the moral and loving demands of God.

Thirdly, when Jesus gave his credentials to those who came from John the Baptist to ask if he were the messiah or not, the order in which Jesus lists his accomplishments are these: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the poor have the gospel preached to them.”

Finally, when he sent our his disciples, Jesus says to them to do the same—heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, and cast out demons.

It’s difficult to get around these facts and if we put any confidence at all in the picture of Jesus as we see him in the gospels, it’s the picture of a man who made his first impression on people as a man who made people well. He didn’t say that disease was unreal, or that it was always even curable. He didn’t cure everyone. But he did accept disease as a reality of life and brought to bear all of the spiritual energy he had from God.

Now, what about our experiences?

A big difficulty for many of us is to know something in our head and feel it in our heart, so we can make it a part of ourselves and apply it to our needs.

In past years, it was the custom to functionally divide people into three parts—body, mind and spirit.

But over the last few decades we have begun to understand more fully that these three divisions—body, mind and spirit—have become unified.

It’s hard to believe we went off the track so far, for the simplest experience show us that all of the parts of our nature are tied together. For example: when we have a splitting headache—and your body is suffering—we’re also likely not able to think very well. And we know that when our minds are harassed by grave doubts, when you have to make a decision that is important, then our body often shows the strain. We know these simple facts. When we lose heart about life, we’re likely to lose our appetite. In other words, our bodies are more than once a sign of our suffering spirit.

But the greatest of these three things—body, mind and spirit—is that the spirit has the upper hand. Most of us doubt this when we come to a difficult place. We would like to believe that we are defined by our physical body—that we can go no further than our bodies will allow. But none of the facts of living confirm this—in the long run our spirit has the upper hand.

How many of us have been called on to do something that we believe is impossible and we have asked ourselves “can I do this”? And yet through stress and strain—like caring for someone you love through a long illness—somehow the reserves that come to us and replenish us come from the spirit.

What I am trying to say is that our spiritual lives are often the source of our energy. Like a river they must be open and flowing.

But sometimes we are—like the river—blocked at the source. We need to be able to trust in God. By trusting God I mean like this: God will keep us through everything—not protecting us against all disaster or pain, but God will keep us. We will never be let go. There is nothing that can happen to us that we need to be ultimately afraid of.

I don’t believe we are promised perfect health if we will just trust God. But openness toward God can eliminate a lot of fear and frenzy. It can break through barriers of doubt. It can set our lives forward and we can have at our disposal, an incredible and wonderful energy that comes to us from God.

There are some wonderful words in the Prayer Book written by a fine priest named Ted Ferris. And this prayer is right on top of where we should be: This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words be more than words and give me the spirit of Jesus.

Amen