"Equality in Brokenness"
This is a sermon I gave during chapel on Friday, October 5th, 2012.
We had a theme for that week during chapel, and that surrounded the text of Mark 5.
New Testament Scripture: Mark 5
Psalm: Psalm 73
This week we have been moving through the text of Mark 5. We began with the demon possessed man who lived among the tombs. Then moved to the hemorrhaging woman, and then finally to the dead child. These stories all represented people who have been separated from their communities. They are those who have suffered greatly and have gone to places that their communities could not follow. Who could blame them? The demoniac was dangerous. They had chained him many times, yet he broke through them and would harm himself. Perhaps he even would harm others, or already had harmed others. The hemorrhaging woman had been to many doctors, but they could not stop her bleeding. Her bleeding made her unclean. She could have had a contagious disease that could spread in the community. The girl was dead. Her illness had taken her life. The community could only grieve with the family. There was nothing they could do, why bother the teacher anymore.
So how do we get to Psalm 73 from Mark 5? Psalm 73 is a wisdom psalm. The psalmist is suffering, and struggling, and all the while seeing the appeared success of those wicked ones who surround him. Their success only makes his suffering more painful. Their lives are all put together, they appear to not suffer. “For they have no pain; their bodies are sound and sleek. They are not in trouble as others are; they are not plagued like other people.” All the while the psalmist raises to God a burning question that we are all familiar with. Why me? Why do I suffer, why do I, one of your people, suffer? “When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in the heart, I was stupid and ignorant; I was like a brute beast towards you” We become angry at God, and we compare our lot verses the lot of others. This is a question we can all understand.
Why does our suffering only amplify when we are surrounded by those who appear to be doing well? Why do we feel so exiled and alone in our suffering when we have to put on our “face” when we leave the house? Why does God let us suffer in silence?
I feel this psalmist gives a great snapshot into the mindset of the sufferer. How the world begins to look to us when we struggle. The faces of our friends and colleagues when our suffering has just gone on long enough. Why us God? Why us God? We want to keep it together. We want to accept the help from our communities, from our friends, but sometimes it is too much, or too little. Sometimes we don’t know what we need, or our need is too great. We are possessed by demons, have an incurable condition, or beyond any form of earthly help. How do we lay down the burdens that if we set down will only destroy us?
I’m not here to give you any answer on this. Instead I want to call attention to the predicament we face as future caregivers. The task we have been called to is not easy, and it is a position that can be used to harm.
Many of us were called to ministry after overcoming our brokenness. We ran to the feet of Jesus and met him at the boat. We ran to the feet of Jesus and grabbed the hem of his clothes. We ran to the feet of Jesus and begged him to save our child’s life. Or Jesus came to us, and told us to arise from our death beds. Many of us have gone past the brink, and know what it means to hit bottom and cry out to God. We know how it feels to be alone in the midst of a crowd, suffering in our own silence, envying the wicked ones who surround us.
Yet, we are all wicked. We are all sinful. We all don’t suffer at the same time. And we are being called into a ministry of community. We are all equally broken. And even at times we are being called to minister we don’t stop experiencing this world once we become ministers, and what happens to us when experience a crisis? Do we share our suffering with the community, or do we hid it from them to “protect them”?
When we begin our ministries we will have many people in our congregations who suffer. How do we be present for those whose pain is more than we could ever help? How do we hold fast to those, and not inflict ourselves upon our neighbor?
The problem is us, all of us. We have been taught that we take it alone. We tear apart our communities, and we push out the ones who can’t fit in. Those who can’t function in the community, we give them space. We give those who suffer a space in exile.
In the community we are guilty for exalting the arrogant ones and caring for those who might be suffering as we understand it. We are not giving them what they really need, but what we think they need. Like chains, or unhelpful medicines, or loud communal weeping. How do we as a community truly help those who suffer? How do we get out of the way, allowing ourselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit, and allow the healing of Jesus to come in? How do we as ministers move away from the time tested “knowledge” that we have gained as humans, and move into the mystery of God?
These people had Rabbi’s and Pharacee’s during the time of Mark 5, and those people and their communities still needed Christ to change their predicament. What makes us any different from them?
The title of Minister gets confused sometimes. Either we feel like we have to have all the answers, or our future congregations feel we should have all the answers. We become arrogant, and prescribe our proud treatments. We are the representative for God right? Doesn’t that come with the superior ability to solve everyone’s problems? How did we get from minister to genie?
The truth is we can’t solve everyone’s problems. We can’t heal severe mental illnesses with our healing and wholeness services. We can’t play doctor with people’s emotions. We can’t employ everyone who is out of work. We can’t pay everyone’s rent. We can’t protect everyone in the community from each other. We are not Jesus, but we need Jesus.
If you have taken Pastoral Care, the cardinal rule ingrained in our brains is to refer, to refer, to refer. When I did my CPE or Clinical Pastoral Education this summer the best lesson I learned was that sometimes, I am not the person to help. Sometimes the best help I can give, is to not be the person they need.
On one of my last on calls when I was at Atlanta Medical Center, a patient dropped dead in the Emergency Department during discharge. The patient’s daughter was inconsolable. She ran out of the ED screaming, and sat down in the Ambulance Bay. I didn’t want her to be hit by the incoming ambulances and become another patient. Yet, every time I came near her I intensified her pain. It was not going to be me to talk her down, and get her out of the bay. I was going to need to refer her to another to get her the help she truly needed. One of the officers helped me talk her down, and she was able to safely come back into the hospital.
Sometimes our job as ministers to help those who are beyond our help is to be mindful of them, and refer them to the help they truly need. We have to allow God to come in, we have to be able to know when to ask for help, and not just proudly declare some prepared answer.
We are not Jesus, but we need Jesus. For those who have experienced great suffering, think back on the treatments that were helpful, and the treatments that were hurtful. Suffering is not something we can give easy answers to, and sometimes it is so painful it can only drag others into it. Let us not be the wicked, or the arrogant. But instead let us be the humble, and allow the mystery of God be our wisdom to guide us. Proverbs 12:18, “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing”. Let us break our hearts of stone, and humble ourselves before the feet of Jesus. Amen.
We had a theme for that week during chapel, and that surrounded the text of Mark 5.
New Testament Scripture: Mark 5
Psalm: Psalm 73
This week we have been moving through the text of Mark 5. We began with the demon possessed man who lived among the tombs. Then moved to the hemorrhaging woman, and then finally to the dead child. These stories all represented people who have been separated from their communities. They are those who have suffered greatly and have gone to places that their communities could not follow. Who could blame them? The demoniac was dangerous. They had chained him many times, yet he broke through them and would harm himself. Perhaps he even would harm others, or already had harmed others. The hemorrhaging woman had been to many doctors, but they could not stop her bleeding. Her bleeding made her unclean. She could have had a contagious disease that could spread in the community. The girl was dead. Her illness had taken her life. The community could only grieve with the family. There was nothing they could do, why bother the teacher anymore.
So how do we get to Psalm 73 from Mark 5? Psalm 73 is a wisdom psalm. The psalmist is suffering, and struggling, and all the while seeing the appeared success of those wicked ones who surround him. Their success only makes his suffering more painful. Their lives are all put together, they appear to not suffer. “For they have no pain; their bodies are sound and sleek. They are not in trouble as others are; they are not plagued like other people.” All the while the psalmist raises to God a burning question that we are all familiar with. Why me? Why do I suffer, why do I, one of your people, suffer? “When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in the heart, I was stupid and ignorant; I was like a brute beast towards you” We become angry at God, and we compare our lot verses the lot of others. This is a question we can all understand.
Why does our suffering only amplify when we are surrounded by those who appear to be doing well? Why do we feel so exiled and alone in our suffering when we have to put on our “face” when we leave the house? Why does God let us suffer in silence?
I feel this psalmist gives a great snapshot into the mindset of the sufferer. How the world begins to look to us when we struggle. The faces of our friends and colleagues when our suffering has just gone on long enough. Why us God? Why us God? We want to keep it together. We want to accept the help from our communities, from our friends, but sometimes it is too much, or too little. Sometimes we don’t know what we need, or our need is too great. We are possessed by demons, have an incurable condition, or beyond any form of earthly help. How do we lay down the burdens that if we set down will only destroy us?
I’m not here to give you any answer on this. Instead I want to call attention to the predicament we face as future caregivers. The task we have been called to is not easy, and it is a position that can be used to harm.
Many of us were called to ministry after overcoming our brokenness. We ran to the feet of Jesus and met him at the boat. We ran to the feet of Jesus and grabbed the hem of his clothes. We ran to the feet of Jesus and begged him to save our child’s life. Or Jesus came to us, and told us to arise from our death beds. Many of us have gone past the brink, and know what it means to hit bottom and cry out to God. We know how it feels to be alone in the midst of a crowd, suffering in our own silence, envying the wicked ones who surround us.
Yet, we are all wicked. We are all sinful. We all don’t suffer at the same time. And we are being called into a ministry of community. We are all equally broken. And even at times we are being called to minister we don’t stop experiencing this world once we become ministers, and what happens to us when experience a crisis? Do we share our suffering with the community, or do we hid it from them to “protect them”?
When we begin our ministries we will have many people in our congregations who suffer. How do we be present for those whose pain is more than we could ever help? How do we hold fast to those, and not inflict ourselves upon our neighbor?
The problem is us, all of us. We have been taught that we take it alone. We tear apart our communities, and we push out the ones who can’t fit in. Those who can’t function in the community, we give them space. We give those who suffer a space in exile.
In the community we are guilty for exalting the arrogant ones and caring for those who might be suffering as we understand it. We are not giving them what they really need, but what we think they need. Like chains, or unhelpful medicines, or loud communal weeping. How do we as a community truly help those who suffer? How do we get out of the way, allowing ourselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit, and allow the healing of Jesus to come in? How do we as ministers move away from the time tested “knowledge” that we have gained as humans, and move into the mystery of God?
These people had Rabbi’s and Pharacee’s during the time of Mark 5, and those people and their communities still needed Christ to change their predicament. What makes us any different from them?
The title of Minister gets confused sometimes. Either we feel like we have to have all the answers, or our future congregations feel we should have all the answers. We become arrogant, and prescribe our proud treatments. We are the representative for God right? Doesn’t that come with the superior ability to solve everyone’s problems? How did we get from minister to genie?
The truth is we can’t solve everyone’s problems. We can’t heal severe mental illnesses with our healing and wholeness services. We can’t play doctor with people’s emotions. We can’t employ everyone who is out of work. We can’t pay everyone’s rent. We can’t protect everyone in the community from each other. We are not Jesus, but we need Jesus.
If you have taken Pastoral Care, the cardinal rule ingrained in our brains is to refer, to refer, to refer. When I did my CPE or Clinical Pastoral Education this summer the best lesson I learned was that sometimes, I am not the person to help. Sometimes the best help I can give, is to not be the person they need.
On one of my last on calls when I was at Atlanta Medical Center, a patient dropped dead in the Emergency Department during discharge. The patient’s daughter was inconsolable. She ran out of the ED screaming, and sat down in the Ambulance Bay. I didn’t want her to be hit by the incoming ambulances and become another patient. Yet, every time I came near her I intensified her pain. It was not going to be me to talk her down, and get her out of the bay. I was going to need to refer her to another to get her the help she truly needed. One of the officers helped me talk her down, and she was able to safely come back into the hospital.
Sometimes our job as ministers to help those who are beyond our help is to be mindful of them, and refer them to the help they truly need. We have to allow God to come in, we have to be able to know when to ask for help, and not just proudly declare some prepared answer.
We are not Jesus, but we need Jesus. For those who have experienced great suffering, think back on the treatments that were helpful, and the treatments that were hurtful. Suffering is not something we can give easy answers to, and sometimes it is so painful it can only drag others into it. Let us not be the wicked, or the arrogant. But instead let us be the humble, and allow the mystery of God be our wisdom to guide us. Proverbs 12:18, “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing”. Let us break our hearts of stone, and humble ourselves before the feet of Jesus. Amen.