Sermons

Apr 22 - The Rev. Brian C. Taylor - Healed and nourished for service

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Healed and nourished for service
April 22, 2007, The Third Sunday of Easter
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor
Acts 9:1-20, John 21:1-19

From the gospel: Peter and the other disciples had recently lost their friend Jesus in a horrific end to their glorious 3 years together. They picked up the pieces of their broken lives and dragged themselves out of that dark city, Jerusalem, back to what they hoped would be the comforting light of Galilee: back home, where it all began. They were numb, completely emptied out.

And so they set about doing the only thing they knew how to do, something that would occupy their bodies and wouldn’t require them to think too much. They went out at night into the deep waters, and in the silence out there they fished and they grieved. And to add insult to injury, after toiling all night, they caught nothing. No food for their hungry families, no income for the day. Their hearts and their nets were both empty.

From the first reading: Paul was doing important work on behalf of the chief priest of the temple in Jerusalem. He was rounding up heretics, troublemakers who had been disturbing the peace in synagogues all over. They called themselves followers of the Way, and Paul’s job was to arrest them and bring them to Jerusalem to face charges. Sometimes he took matters into his own hands and them stoned to death.

And then, one day on his way to investigate some trouble in Damascus, a bright light flashed, he fell to the ground, and was struck blind. Everything stopped for Paul that day. He didn’t know what hit him.

So far, in these stories, can you relate? Do you know what it is like to be emotionally drained, feeling empty, working hard, with nothing to show for it? Do you know what it is like to be going about your business, then one day something comes out of nowhere and whacks you upside the head, stopping everything, rendering you blind and helpless?
What do you do when you’re in these places?

Well, Peter and Paul reached out to God in their need. Peter dove into the water and swam 100 yards to meet his Lord on the beach. Paul cried out Who are you, Lord? and then allowed himself to be led by the hand to stay at the home of a stranger.

Do you reach out to God when you’re in need? It seems like such an obvious question, but it is surprising how often when we’re in crisis we don’t immediately reach out to God. Sometimes it has to do with a lifelong habit of always having to be strong and take care of ourselves all on our own. Maybe we’re okay about praying for others, but feel it would be presumptuous to pray for ourselves. We forget that we say Give us this day our daily bread all the time, that Jesus taught us to do so. Perhaps we think that God should just not allow difficult things to happen to us, and when they do, we’re surprised and feel forsaken. Whatever it is, it is amazing how often I hear a person of faith say Why no, I haven’t prayed yet about this crisis I’m in…

Our stories today tell us that when we’re in crisis or need, sometimes it isn’t enough to try to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. It isn’t enough to wish that things were different, to wonder why God doesn’t magically rescue us. We have to reach out in faith. We have to dive into the deep water and swim towards God. We have to cry out Who are you, Lord? Where are you? and then trust ourselves to be led by the hand to a stranger’s house. Faith asks us to do something in a Godward direction when we’re in need. Faith asks us to risk ourselves, to make ourselves vulnerable to God, to express our need in no uncertain terms. Help me! I’m empty, blind, lost, and don’t know what to do!

What happens when we trust God enough to lay ourselves before him like this?

Let’s see what our stories today tell us. After having filled his nets to overflowing with fish, Jesus then sits Peter down and serves him up a fish barbeque, and talks to him about love. Ananias lays hands on Paul so that he regains his sight, he feeds him, and talks to him so convincingly about Jesus that Paul is baptized. God responds when they reach out in faith.

So it is with us. When we reach out in faith, God responds. Jesus said seek and you will find; knock and the door will open; ask, and you will receive. We find, we receive, and doors open. Or sometimes, we just perceive a divine presence in our lives that can never be shaken, a presence that has nothing to do with how well or how badly things are going in our lives.

Some think that this is where our spiritual journey is completed, with God’s healing and nourishment. All they want is enlightenment, comfort, and peace. But our stories today both take a surprising turn at this point, leaving behind personal need and God’s loving response.

After having been fed by Jesus, Peter was sent to feed others. If you love me, Jesus said three times, feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep. After Paul’s sight was restored, he was sent to bring spiritual sight to countless others. As the Lord told Ananias, Go [and heal Paul], for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.

The conclusion of our spiritual journey is not healing and nourishment. We are healed and nourished by God for one purpose: to be sent out to serve, to spend ourselves for the greater good. When our nets come up full again, when we are given the blessing of abundance, when we regain our spiritual sight, when God feeds and heals us, this is not just for our own enjoyment alone.

Every blessing is meant to be shared. Whatever abundance or strength we have is temporarily on loan to us in order that we can go out and do some good with it in this world. We are healed and nourished so that we can then go out again and give it all away again.

Such giving will cost us something. Jesus told Peter, you will be taken where you do not wish to go; you will suffer for my sake, saying this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God. Paul too would bear the cost of discipleship. The Lord said to Ananias I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.

It may not be so dramatic for us; we probably won’t be martyred. But there will be a cost. When we serve, when we stand up for the marginalized, when we give away a portion of our income, when we take the time to be with people who are in pain - even when we just open ourselves in prayer to the horror of mass murder on a Virginia campus or the seemingly intractable savagery of what we have wrought in Iraq - there is a cost. Caring and serving takes something out of us. Self-emptying, we find ourselves vulnerable once again.

But then the cycle begins all over, doesn’t it? Emptiness and need…reaching out...God’s loving response…feeding, nourishment, healing…then costly, self-emptying service once more. This is the endless cycle of the life of faith. It is what we call the way of the cross. Our Lord went this way first, and showed us that the way of the cross is the way of life, the path of renewal and resurrection. It brings new life in God every time, for us and for others whom we serve.

At the end of the meal on the beach that day, Jesus called his disciples to walk the same life-giving way he had just trod. He said to his friends Follow me. And so we do.