Sermons

Sermon, The Rev. Brian C. Taylor, June 6

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June 6, 2010
The 2nd Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor

In the gospel we just heard, the story is a mirror image of today’s lesson from the Old Testament. Jesus is the new Elijah. Both prophets raise from the dead the only son of a grieving widow. In each case, the boy has died very recently. The mother is distraught; friends and relatives gather and prepare for the burial. God’s prophet enters the scene. He has compassion on the mother and child, and he prays for healing.

The prayer was a crazy thing, an impossible thing; the boy was already dead. But in moments, the signs of life miraculously come back, and the child is alive again. God has overcome the barrier between life and death.

Today I’d like to take a look at the wider context of both of these stories. My interest is not just in what happened between the individuals in these brief encounters, but what led up to these moments? And what happened afterwards? What was the effect of these miracles upon the ministry of the prophets, upon the public?

Elijah the prophet lived in corrupt times. Israel’s leaders had ignored the Torah’s teachings about humility, justice, and mercy, and turned instead to corrupt, unjust ways. Things had become so bad that God needed to give Israel an object lesson.

So God caused a drought to fall upon Israel, to illustrate how spiritually and morally parched they were. Israel was as dry and lifeless as their land had become. Could new life come out of this desert?

In Jesus’ days, Israel was corrupt again, its leaders compromised in their symbiotic relationship with their Roman overlords. Israel was about to be destroyed, the Temple torn down, the people scattered around the region. Could new life come to God’s people?

So God sent each of the prophets into widow’s homes to create a sign, to say something to the public about God’s love for Israel. Both women were poor, with only one son. As characters in the stories, they stood in for Israel, on the brink of catastrophe, seemingly dead. As God had compassion on their poverty and disaster, raising the child to new life, so God would have mercy and raise up his people.

The purpose of each of these healings was not just so that these two individual boys could go on living another few decades. After all, who ever talks about what these boys went on to do? Who cares? We’re not even told their names.

But we do know that because of these miracles, the movements that Elijah and Jesus led gained attention and energy, and went on to renew the people’s faith and hope in God. Many more came to them to hear their teachings, to know God’s presence, to live according to God’s ways. A spiritual renewal took place, and God’s Spirit affected thousands.

The ripple effect of these healings was enormous. Through them, God did renew Israel. In Elijah’s case, he and others now knew that God’s power was with him. From this point on he and his successor Elisha challenged and helped overthrow corrupt king after king. In Jesus’ case, millions are still drawing meaning, faith, and hope from this story and others like it.

And the funny thing is, the widows and their sons were completely unaware of the role their healing had played in God’s purposes in history.

So it is with us, I think. We’re like the widow and the son, sometimes near disaster, in our little house, unable to see how we shall be sustained beyond today. Something in our life - or in the life of someone we love - seems dead, beyond hope. We feel impoverished, parched.

And yet we open our humble door to God. We dare to hope, to pray, to ask for healing. We go to a doctor, we see a spiritual director or therapist, we pray. In our need, God visits us, and like the widows, we discover that there is yet some life in what we thought was dead. God gives us new life.

We think that this is all there is to it. We’re grateful for the help God has given us. We have more trust in God’s provision, so that next time a problem arises, we’re more likely to face it with faith. The effect of God’s mercy is immediate, just for us. Or so we think.

But like the widows and their sons in these stories, there is a bigger picture outside of our little home. The ripple effect of God’s grace touches lives in ways that we shall never know. Our healing becomes a sign for many others, a witness to God’s compassion and goodness.

In the persecutions of the early church, those who went willingly to their death were known as martyrs. The word martyr literally means witness. The martyrs witnessed to God’s power over even death, for they went to their deaths with confidence and hope. Their witness transformed the lives of thousands of others. Those who saw them realized that if God can free the martyrs from the fear of death, surely God can free me, too.

When I speak to clergy at CREDO conferences, I always say to them that they are witnesses to God. They are far more transparent to the people they serve than they realize. People see whether or not they are kind, patient under stress, confident in God’s grace, and prayerful.

But what people need to see, even more than evidence of these spiritual qualities, is that their clergy are on a spiritual journey of transformation toward these qualities. Their people need to see how their clergy struggle to live into Christ’s ways. People need to see this so that they might know that they, too, can make this transformative journey.

But this is not only true for clergy. We are all public personas. People see who we are. And every person who seeks and finds God’s grace in their lives becomes a witness to those around them. Our spiritual life is always transparent to others who are also seeking, to those who have eyes to see.

And so every time we inch forward in our faith journey, every time we learn a lesson about how God is real, how God is present and lovingly involved in our life, every time we learn to trust and to give more freely of ourselves, we are witnesses to God’s light and love. Every time we experience God’s healing in our life, it affects others.

Think for a moment of someone you know who has grown in grace, who reveals how God has worked in their life – perhaps someone who is in recovery from addiction. Think of how far they have come from their days of deception and self-destruction. Or think of any person who has journeyed with God through whatever problems they have, to a place where equanimity and wisdom now shine forth from them, where they radiate kindness and peace.

Do you know such a person? This didn’t happen by accident, or just because they were born that way. They’re like that because they sought and found God’s transformative grace in their lives.

What is the effect of that person’s light? Is it limited to themselves? Is it just that they are personally more happy and healthy? Of course not. They spread their light all around them; they affect you, their loved ones, their church, strangers in the store, those they work with, and, if they are a public figure, countless millions. They witness to God.

It matters for others that you, as a person of faith, grow in grace. For your spiritual journey is transparent; as a person of faith, you are a sign of God’s presence in this world. And as others see God work in your life, they begin to hope for that same transformative presence in theirs, too.

Your redemption contributes in immeasurable ways to the redemption of the world.
As Jesus said, You are the light of the world. Let your light shine before others, that they may see the good that you do, and give glory to God.