May
my words be in the name of the Living God, creating, redeeming and sustaining.
Amen.
I
have had a great morning with the lovely people at BBC Radio Kent. A talented
15 year old budding Jewish scholar helped me to see that God is an elephant! We
discussed growing up in multifaith Britain among other stories from this weeks
news including the Bishop's letter about the refugee crisis in Syria. The
Bishops are asking us all to do our bit, like the 70 being sent out from
today's gospel. If you were one of the 70 being sent out from this gospel
reading how would you have felt? Would you be full of doubt in your own
ability? Would you think “Oh my goodness I can’t travel with nothing I need my…
if I’m going to be effective” What I really like about this reading is that at
the heart of it is the message of healing and as we celebrate St Luke the
Evangelist and healer today it's very fitting. When heading out to do a
difficult task all you need is company and support. That's why they all went
out in two’s.
According to psychologists, at times of crisis, humour can provide a vital way of expressing frustration at a baffling situation.
Following the problems in the global economy uncertainty has now hit
Sorry for that little diversion. Laughter and humour is a really important healing tool.
What I’d really like for you all to hold onto this morning is that we are all called to be part of God’s healing process. Healing is not something that is left only to priests. It’s not just a specialism that hospital or hospice chaplains have. It's not just for the medical profession either. It’s actually an ability we all have if only we are brave enough to use it. When you put your arm around someone who is sad or give a comforting hug to someone who is stressed you are participating in that healing process. When you ring a friend who is having a tough time or invite a neighbour in for a chat over a cuppa you are part of that process. When someone dies and you see a member of the deceased family in the street and you manage to resist the urge to cross over the road and pretend you didn’t see them, you are participating in God’s healing. You don’t have to be a theologian or a scholar, or a medic, in fact you don’t have to be clever in any way. It’s good enough to say to someone “I’ve heard the awful news. I’m so sorry I don’t know what to say. How are you coping? That then gives them the opportunity to talk if they want. If you don't know what to say then just listen.
What
always helps me is that God, through Jesus became flesh and dwelt amongst us.
God intimately understands human suffering because Jesus suffered so much and
Jesus took that knowledge with him back to God. Jesus knows the pain of the
flesh as well as the anguish of the mind. That’s why I can talk to God about
suffering because I know God’s been there.
I
feel awful at the moment because of my raw grief at the loss of my beautiful
chosen mum. I can talk to God though because I know she understands how
wretched I feel.
One
of the stories that sticks with me from my time as a hospital chaplain was
around the family of a very sick premature baby. Despite being born 3 months
early this little one had got to be 4 months old and was doing quite well. I’d
been chatting to his Mum and Dad about “Big Brother”, the Football, the weather
all sorts of things that gradually built up a relationship with them. They were
not church goers. Unfortunately the little fella took a turn for the worst and
ended up back on a ventilator again. I was just leaving my office which is some
distance from the Unit when I bumped into them. They both burst into tears. I
took them inside and they told me that there was no hope for their son. As they
talked I gently spoke to them about a goodbye ritual. I couldn’t use a
Christian framework, because that was not their belief system, but I could help
them say goodbye. They decided they would go and get a drink and at my
suggestion compose a letter to their son, explaining all the things they had
hoped to do with him if he lived. They were waiting for grandparents to arrive
so they had some time. As Mum got up to go she started to weep again. I put my
arms around her and she sank to the floor. I went to the floor with her and
gently held on to her. She started to say “I can’t do this again, I can’t hold
another baby while he dies, I just can’t” I told her it was ok and she didn’t
have to do anything she didn’t want to. Dad was leaning against the wall also
weeping and he said that he couldn’t do it again either. The Mum turned to me
and said “You give such good cuddles. Will you hold my baby while he dies?”
Inwardly
I took a big gulp. Outwardly I reassured this tragically grieving couple, for
whom this would be the third baby of theirs to die, that I would do anything
they needed me to.
Later
that night once the baby’s big sister and grandparents arrived I carried out a
farewell ritual. The extended family left and I gave Mum and Dad a few minutes
on their own. Mum quickly left, Dad waited a while longer then the baby was
given to me and I hugged him and sang to him while he gently slipped away.
I
can still see the love of God in that tragic situation and I know that couple
will remember the vicar that wasn't afraid of their request. In that way I took
my role of being sent out by God to share the love with the world
One
of my hardest call outs was to the children’s ward. A child had suddenly and
unexpectedly died. The family were, understandably, distraught. Their culture
and tradition told them that if they prayed hard enough their daughter would be
raised from the dead. There was a lot of commotion and wailing. The ward staff
bleeped me because they didn’t know what to do. My dilemma was that this family
needed to work through their rituals but not in the middle of the children’s
ward. I was able to delicately move them to what I called “The Chapel of Rest” but
was normally just referred to as the mortuary. I was with them for several
hours as they prayed hard for demons to leave the child. They shouted and
raged, they threw themselves around the floor. The whole time I kept praying
psalm 139 and praying that God would give me words that although inadequate
might make a difference. At one point I was on the floor cradling the Mum who
had thrown herself at my feet. She was screaming. “It’s my fault, I don’t have
enough faith, I’m a bad mother” As I gently rocked her I said God knew that
feeling cause he watch helplessly as his son died on the cross and that just
before he died Jesus doubted himself and felt abandoned by God. I encouraged
her to keep telling God how awful she felt. She then sobbed in my arms for
around half an hour, then just sat in utter desolation. At that point when all
the raw emotion had calmed down I did an anointing and blessing ritual and
commended the child to God. They then all quietly left the hospital.
I
remember getting home that night in the early hours and just sitting in my
kitchen staring into space wondering whether anything I did helped at all.
Sometimes you never know what happens next and you just have to hand over situations
to God.
The
reason I can talk to God about all these situations is because I do believe
that the word became flesh and dwelt among us. I do believe that God suffered
and therefore is accessible to us in our suffering. I can’t relate to a
judgmental austere father but I can relate to a loving God who became flesh and
dwelt among us. Who is always with us in our suffering. The suffering that we
experience due to our humanity.
So
next time you’re feeling weak and fragile and your body or mind is hurting.
Next time you’re among the homeless and the smelly, remember it’s in those very
situations that God chose to reveal himself. In fact it’s in those very
situations that God continues to reveal herself. The stories from the hospital
illustrate this. The life of this parish illustrates this. Are you prepared to
be part of God’s healing for a broken world? All you need to bring is your
hands and feet and your eyes through which God looks out in compassion on the
world. We are at a turning point in the history of this church and its people.
Do we need a full time priest to continue the work? Do we need a part time
priest? Will a parish pastor help us to move on? One thing I am certain of is
that we all have a part to play. The 70 that were sent out I'm sure were of
differing abilities and interests. They all had to be willing to take on what
came up as they journeyed through God's Kingdom. All of us from the youngest to
the oldest, from the physically able to the most frail have their part to play
in deciding which direction this parish goes in. Please pray and meditate very
hard about the proposal. Try and work out what is the very essence of this
church? What is the bit that gives it life and must go on? Talk to the
Churchwardens, the PCC and Nick, David and myself about your thoughts and
questions and be ready to come with ideas to an away day about the future of
this/our/your parish.
I’d like to finish with this quote which you've heard
from me many times.
“I
have learned many times that suffering, when permeated by love, can have
creative power. When I light a candle at midnight, I say to the darkness: I beg
to differ”.
I
hope you all find love, wisdom and understanding in the inevitable suffering of
this world. I also hope you find the inner strength and resilience to say yes
to God and be part of those who are sent out to be God's healing hands and
heart to a hurting world.
Amen
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