"Cure the sick who are there, and say to
them,
'The kingdom of God has come near to you.' "
(Luke 10: 9)
Luke paints a picture of Jesus sending out seventy disciples
on a mission. Because they have known a measure of healing in
their own lives they can now offer healing to others. They will
accept hospitality wherever it offers. In return they will offer
companionship and healing. (The word "companion" comes from two
Latin words meaning "with bread:" Companions are those who eat
together, as we will sacramentally, later in the service.)
Jesus sends us out too, as healers and companions. The healing
of Naaman in the Jordan is an older example from a Bible full of
healings. Naaman's healing foreshadows what Jesus will do.
Naaman had to dip seven times into the river. Before it gets
to the spot, the Jordan must first fill the Sea of Galilee. One
morning I was on the lakeshore, where, according to tradition,
the risen Jesus appeared to the disciples. At his direction the
disciples take a large catch of fish, then come ashore to share
breakfast with their Lord--companionship.
It seemed a holy place. On that light blue winter's morning
the holy memories were strong. On the lake's slate-like surface a
small boat etched lazy circles. The figures were clearly catching
nothing. I spent an hour or two sitting on a rock, letting the
ambience soak in.
My companion that day was a journalist. Like most members of
his profession, Alan was sceptical about false religiosity. In
addition, an unpleasant tummy condition was making him grumpy.
Three weeks earlier he had picked something up in Southeast
Asia.
Alan asked a bystander, "Is this water safe to drink?" "Of
course," came the reply, It comes fresh from the snows of Mount
Hermon and it's reticulated throughout Israel." So he bent down
to drink.
Later, with a wry smile, he confided, "From that moment the
trouble was gone."
What could I say? That he was about to get better anyway? Or
that it was the placebo effect - the suggestive influence of the
place on a mind susceptible in spite of the cynical veneer? Or a
miracle? Or a parable? For me it was a parable. It pointed to the
continuing healing influence of Christ in our own world.
II
Like the seventy that Jesus sends out, he calls us too, and
sends us. He may send us to families, our own or others. The
sickness that we encounter may be physical or emotional or
mental. It may be spiritual or social. These elements always
interact.
He may call us to be healers in the work place. Here there are
other kinds of sickness. Much has been written about sexual abuse
within the church, and the complementary sickness of the
cover-up, rationalised as pastoral care. I think, too, of the
elder who told me of his pain, and the risk to his career, when
he had to confront corruption at a high level in big business.
And at the international level, we are all called to be
peacemakers and thereby to become children of God.
How may we do that? Someone drew to my attention during the
week that this would be Refugee Sunday. A symptom of the world's
sickness is the flood of frightened people seeking asylum, a
comparative few of whom come to Australia. I am continually
chuffed by the number of mature and wise church people involved
in Hotham Mission's Asylum Seeker Project, and the impressive
number of church-owned or rented properties that have provided
free accommodation for desperate people. I am also impressed by
the many people now in high positions who came as refugees
several decades ago.
That's an aside. Some of you may have been called as
professional healers, some to be social workers, some to the
ministry of caring through the church or some other agency. Some
have been called to the specialised ministry of prayer, while all
of us, whether specialists or not, must learn to pray.
Some have been called to another and particularly difficult
ministry, the ministry of sharing with Christ in his sufferings.
It is as the French resistance fighter, Simone Weil, who said
that of all the figures in the Gospels, the one whose place she
most coveted was that of the penitent thief crucified with
Christ.
III
Jesus gives his disciples no directions for their role as
healers. They know from his example that the main thing is
prayer. Medical science and the social sciences are, as we know
very well in our time, vitally important, but so is the role of
prayer.
Some men and women of faith, we know, have a healing touch,
and others not. That Jesus seems to command us to work miracles
can be a problem for the thoughtful.
Coincidences are to be expected. Random events may come
together fortuitously ... or come together disastrously. There
are times when things go right and times when things go wrong.
The stock market goes up and the stock market comes down.
Which is all to say that one person's miracle may be another
person's random event. For one person God is good and does
care and works miracles; for another the universe stumbles
blindly on its uncaring way.
IV
Elisha, the man of God, works miracles in the name of his God.
In these stories the prophet's power to heal and to work wonders
serves to prove that his is the true God. In the Gospels,
likewise, Jesus' power to heal serves as proof that God is with
him.
As for ourselves, isn't it true that we sometimes encounter
spontaneous healings that could perhaps count as miracles?
There is, of course, the placebo effect and the power of
suggestion. On the other hand it is clearly recognised that
excessive stress can aggravate or even bring on certain
conditions. By contrast, certain states of consciousness,
especially prayer, are said to be good for the immune system.
How can a state of consciousness influence the body? I think,
I will lift my hand," and it happens. Isn't it a miracle of sorts
that the human body can translate a mere thought into an action?
And if I can do that, why shouldn't electrical patterns in the
brain influence bodily health?
How do these damp grey sponges inside our skulls give rise to
conscious thoughts? And how do our thoughts activate certain
electrical signals inside our brains, which signals in turn cause
certain muscles to contract or relax, or the immune system to do
its duty?
Experts tell me that biology is on the way to understanding
the complex molecular pathways by which volition gives rise to
action, or the other way round, how touch gives rise to conscious
sensation. When you think about it, the interaction of the human
body, brain and mind must strike you as quite remarkable, if not
downright miraculous. And the interesting thing for our purposes
is that thoughts, such as prayer, can be healing.
But wait, there is more. How does your prayer, not for
yourself but for another work? It is helpful to think of
God as involved in the whole flux of life, in the ebb and flow of
biological processes and of human interaction.
I used to think that the whole of me as a person was contained
within my skin. Now I know that I am constituted by all my
relationships. My physical body is merely the more intimate part
of my environment.
God exists in the cosmic connectedness of all things. I can
pray for my family thousands of kilometres across the sea and
know that my prayer is good for them. Something is going on that science is hardly beginning to understand.
Although this "influence at a distance", and especially the
connection between one mind separated from another without
apparent means of communication, remains a scientific riddle, I believe it will be solved some day. And that will be to
understand more of God as intimately part of the web of life.
V
To be healers we must learn to pray. Jesus, and Elisha before
him, spurned the idea of healing as a side show to compel faith.
A few find prayer as natural as breathing; most of us have to
work at it over a lifetime, for "we do not know how to pray
as we ought." We must get in touch with the Spirit of God already
praying within us, below the level of words.
It helps to pray together, for there is a cumulative effect.
It also helps to have holy associations surrounding us, as on
that morning by the lake or here this morning in church. And it
helps to pray through the old, old stories in the Bible, for they
reinforcee our prayers.
Most of all, there is a healing influence when we celebrate
Christ's Eucharist, for he has promised to be present as our
invisible healer, visible in a strange way through the bread and
wine.
___________________________________________________
A sermon presented by the Rev Dr Stuart Murray at St Aidan's Uniting Church North Balwyn, on
4th July, 2004.
IT MAY BE REPRODUCED WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENT.
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