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| “And Now for Something Completely Different” Jeremiah 29:11-13 & 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 May 6, 2007 All preachers like a challenge from time to time. This time I may have bit off too much. How can you hope to preach a sermon on a serious subject under a title from Monty Python’s Flying Circus? But, I couldn’t help it because it is something completely different, especially for this season of Easter. Easter is all about the triumph of life over death, resurrection, victory, new beginnings, new possibility, and the bright hope of a new dawn. But I keep wondering about the people whose dawn is overcast and polluted, whose lives seem more defined by the shadow of death than new life, the ones whom the Easter miracle seems to have passed by. Don’t our shouts of “Hallelujah, He is risen!” make their plight all the worse? One of my all time favorite movies is one called “Little Big Man” staring Dustin Hoffman. In it a boy whose parents are killed while heading West in a wagon train, is adopted by a tribe of Indians. The Dustin Hoffman character becomes the adoptive grandson of the chief, Old Lodgeskin. At the end of the movie, Old Logeskins, now blind, asks his grandson to lead him to the top of the mountain where he can die a proper Indian death. He gets hi buffalo skin burial robe and off they go. At the top of the hill, the old chief dances to the four winds, he thanks the Great Spirit for all his victories and all his defeats, then he lies down on his buffalo skin to die. He lies very still for a long time while his grandson sits beside him surveying the valley below and contemplating his grandfather’s long life and perfect death. Then it begins to rain: a few drops at first than harder. There is a close-up shot of the old man’s rugged face with the rain washing over it --- marvelous symbolism. Then, one of the rain drops land in the chief’s eye and he flinches and his grandson is startled; he thought he was dead. The old chief raises his head and asks, “Am I still in this world?” “Yes, grandfather,” is the grandson’s reply. “Oh, I was afraid of that,” and he gets up and they head down the mountain together. As they descend the old chief mutters, “Well, sometimes the magic works and sometimes it doesn’t.” The Bible is full of stories of miraculous healings, (the blind receive their sight, the lame walk). There are life extensions like in the case of Hezekiah; he prayed and God gave him 15 more years. There are miraculous victories over enormous odds, even resurrections from the dead. And we preachers talk about these stories every Sunday; it’s our job, it’s part of the good news we are called to proclaim. But, sometimes the magic works and sometimes it doesn’t. I wonder sometimes about the people in the congregation who pray the prayer of faith and don’t get the miracles; the loved one dies, the pain continues, things continue to get worse. In the Bible, David the little shepherd boy defeats the giant Goliath with nothing but a slingshot; but I wonder if it works that way in your experience. “Goliath and David” poem by Robert Graves in honor of a friend killed in WWI. That’s how it works in the real world; the David’s don’t always defeat the Goliath’s. Right doesn’t always make might. The puny stone strikes the shield like a bug hits the window of a speeding Mac truck, and inflicting just as much damage. Game over - only question left – will you die with dignity. So, I wonder what you think about all those marvelous miracles stories. I wonder about the people who are too sick or served to be here. I wonder if you wonder if the magic doesn’t work for you because your faith isn’t good enough. I knew a young man who was a champion baseball player in high school: Might have made it to the pros. But he got bone cancer in his arm and they amputated it at the elbow. But the cancer came back so they took his arm at the shoulder – but the cancer came back. The family was Catholic Christians, but the mother saw an ad for a faith healer coming to town and in desperation, she took her son. And, in the midst of all that showmanship so unfamiliar and uncomfortable for people used to Catholic worship, she took her son down to the stage for healing. Then she took him home and a few months later he died. And, she remembered that the preacher had told her that the only thing that could keep her son from being healed was her lack of faith. Apparently the preacher’s Bible omitted those stories of people who suffered for generations without there prayers being answered. Even the great saint, Paul, who prayed three times to have an infirmity removed from him, was met by the rather harsh retort, “My grace is sufficient for you.” It’s like my high school coach used to say, “Play with pain, it builds character.” Some of you have character than anyone needs; now you need a little relief. I worry about those churches that suggest if your life isn’t wonderful there is something wrong with your faith. People have to go to church with a painted-on smile to hide the turmoil and heartache inside lest someone question the validity of their salvation. In the midst of all of those miracle stories and gospel promises, isn’t there a word of hope for the hurting in our midst? Yes, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” Love is the greatest thing there is, on earth or in heaven; even greater than faith or hope. Those whose lives require them to bear all things and endure all things while hanging on to hope and faith; they have the chance to touch that kind of love which is at the very heart of God: divine and eternal. That’s why Paul said we should rejoice in suffering; it doesn’t make it easier but it lifts you to a special category of sainthood. The worship celebration of the church should not exclude you but honor you. And while I’m at it I have a word for those preachers who add to the burden of the suffering by making it their fault that the healing they sought did not come. The proof of faith is not in whether you got your prayer answered, it’s in whether your faith remains strong and steadfast even when the prayer doesn’t get answered. The closest synonym for faith is “trust.” Is your trust in God’s love and benevolence any less because your suffering continues after the prayer of faith has been said? Of course there is such a thing as faith healing. There is also such a thing as faith that is made stronger in the absence of healing. So, we say our prayers and trust, not that God will certainly grant our request, but that God will hear it and in his absolute wisdom and love respond in a way that is best for us. The piece we read from Jeremiah is the most often quoted passage from that book. It’s even more powerful when you put it in context. Jeremiah is a profit of doom; his writing is full of predictions of terrible times to come; famine and hardship and domination of outside invaders. Then in the middle of that come these verses, “I know the plans I have for you, plans for your welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Trust me the Lord says, I know the suffering seems endless and the future hopeless, but it’s not. You can see where it’s all going but God can and it’s going someplace good. At the heart of all righteous suffering is a reservoir of divine love. It is both your deliverance and your reward. Trust that. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. So faith, hope, and love remain, but the greatest of these is love. So, those of you who are still in the valley of the shadow of death while to church celebrates the resurrection victory; we honor you and bless you. The last supper was not the night before Jesus resurrection but the night before his death. As always you can get a DVD of this sermon. Contact the church office.
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