Resting, Silence and Allowing God In

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Among the healing stories in the scriptures, the story we read today is well known. I did flinch, however, to discover that the story of a demented man plagued by demons, was assigned for Father’s Day! The good news, though, is that the man is healed and the demons were cast out. But before I spend more time on this story, let’s take a look at the first lesson.

Last week we read a story about the confrontation between the prophet Elijah, King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. The king and queen had conspired to kill a good man simply to take possession of his land. This week we have another story from the trove of stories which pit these ancient adversaries against each other.

The background for today’s story gives a context for why Elijah ran for his life. Jezebel was a foreigner, a Phoenician princess in a political marriage to Ahab, the King of Israel. She successfully converted Ahab from the worship of the Israelite God to the one called Baal. Elijah, as a prophet of the Israelite God with access to the throne room, locked horns with Jezebel on this issue. The two contrived a strange bet in which 450 of the priests of Baal would offer a sacrifice on one altar and Elijah by himself would offer a sacrifice on another. Whichever sacrifice God accepted would demonstrate the real religion. Not surprisingly a bolt of fire from heaven consumed the sacrifice prepared by Elijah and in a gruesome caveat to the bet, namely winners kill losers, Elijah cut the throats of all 450 priests of Baal. By now we also know enough about Jezebel to know that she would not be a gracious loser. She set out for revenge and Elijah ran out of town before she could make good on her threat.

It’s at this point that our lesson today begins. Ultimately Elijah is hiding in a cave where he is cold, hungry and really discouraged. Like many prophets before him, he did as God told him and he got deeper into trouble running for his life. It’s little wonder that the first word out of anyone called by God to serve as a prophet is "NO"!

It’s what happens at the cave that is of particular interest. God tells Elijah that he will come to him and presumably set things right. While waiting Elijah experience a great wind, an earthquake and a fire - each time running out of the cave thinking that each huge phenomenon must be God’s approach. But it’s not. Only when the silence envelopes him does he hear God’s voice clearly tell him what he must do.

Our point of entry into this story, and even how this connects to the Gospel story of Legion, is in how to find God in the midst of struggle. Whether we’re talking about Elijah or the man possessed by demons, each was beset by a cacophony of noise in the midst of crisis. Actual noise and the noise in the head. As an interesting aside, Baal is also the God of thunderous elements in what might be another comparison or competition between the God of Israel and the foreign god. In this second struggle, Elijah holds fast and meets God in silence. In the language of story and symbol, progress is made when the noise ceases and we allow silence to enter in. Quiet brings a sense of balance and the ability to hear God in a profound way.

One of the obstacles to meditation is the wandering mind. During attempts to meditate, the brain is sometimes compared to a dozen monkeys on caffeine. It’s difficult to clear the noise in our heads at times of crisis. Noise and frenetic activity generally accompany problems, accidents, arguments or any type of stress or struggle. Finding a calm moment is very difficult, and yet, until that is achieved, little progress can be made. Whatever crisis arose for the prophets of old or those of ours today, come in so many forms and from so many different corners of our lives. Physical, emotional, spiritual; individual, societal or ecological crisis come and in their wake a swirl of noise and confusion. Healing is the restoration of balance and the discovery of resolution. The first thing doctors tell us to do when recovering from an illness or procedure is rest. We don’t want to and we pay the price if we neglect their advice. The condition will get worse and continue to do so until we do as we are told.

As difficult as it is to rest when a doctor tells us, it’s even more so when we’re told that the solution to an emotional or spiritual crisis is in resting and silence and allowing God in. And yet we pay a larger price if we do not.

Sometimes I take my own advice and when I’m under stress or dealing with a problem, I will stop and pray and meditate, listening for the voice of God. It does come in the deep sense of knowing what needs to be done. My difficulty is often that I don’t’ like the answer. I get into deeper trouble when I do what I would prefer, rather than what I know deep inside to be God’s voice, and what is right.

Just as our illnesses take many different forms and the healing takes many different forms, the common denominator is God as the source of that healing. God is the essence of life and love and it is in this essence that we find healing for whatever troubles us. When Mary Davis was ordained Deacon a couple weeks ago, the preacher reminded us of an old acronym when telling us that our egos usually get in the way of doing God’s will. She said that ego stands for Edging God Out.

Elijah in the cave did a lot of that while he was feeling sorry for himself and the man possessed of demons was unable to be healed until he allowed God to touch him in that place of pain that kept him so tormented. The demons were self destructive as so many of our modern day demons are as well. We are plagued by so many of them, actual mental illness, addictions, guilt, shame, fear, anger, insecurity, and they are legion. But until we stop and allow God to come in through the door of silence we create in prayer the tormenting cycle will continue. Whatever solution or resolution will bring healing, it will arrive through the still, small voice that so caught Elijah’s attention.

This sermon has been a rather long appeal to use prayer as part of your daily life to cast out the demons which may plague you. Find prayers in books, even our own Prayer Book, online find one through St. Google - the new patron saint of seekers, or when all else fails, speak from your heart to the heart of God. It’s a direct line, and doesn’t need fancy words or prose, just honesty. We don’t always like the answer, I warn you now, but we don’t have to. God seems to be more interested in giving us what we need rather than what we want. Prayer works and it leads to healing. Perhaps not all at once, but gets it going.

From the psalm we read this morning, "As the deer longs for the water brooks, so longs my soul for you, O God." I believe God longs for us to drink of that brook too. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Death, Healing and New Life

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the first lesson from the first Book of the Kings we heard the widow say to Elijah, "Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth."

The Old Testament and Gospel lessons are linked today most certainly because of the similarity in them about the raising to life of the sons of these two widows. At first glimpse it seems that the miracles were for the sons. But, I believe, the miracles were really for the mothers.

In the first lesson it is Elijah, one of the great prophets of the Old Testament who performs the miracle. It's actually one of several miracles he performs for this poor family. At the urging of God he arrives at the house of the widow and her son as they are about to eat the last of their grain and brace themselves to starve to death. The first miracle is one of abundance. The grain and oil that never run out. They did not starve but had plenty. It is a statement of faith, and a beautiful story. It says so much about the importance of giving, even at the last. By itself, it would have been a wonderful and complete story full of lessons of hospitality and generosity - how giving provides a limitless well of love and spiritual nourishment.

But the wisdom of scriptures take this story the next step. Sometimes even after the giving tragedy strikes and anger arises. The widow is furious at Elijah. He had given them hope in the final moments of their despair and brought them back from the brink of death. When the widow's son dies, it seems too cruel for her to imagine that after what they had gone through, the boy would die and she would be left alone. She does not take this last bit quietly. She accosts Elijah and unleashes her anger, frustration and grief. Elijah prays and the boy is restored to life. Not only Elijah's credibility, but God's is restored.

The echo of this story in the Gospel is unmistakable. But in the Gospel it's a little clearer as to whom the gift of life is given. As Jesus sees the funeral procession go through the town, it's the widow, the mother of the dead boy, on whom he has compassion. We would assume that he had compassion on the boy and brought him to life. But that's not the case. Jesus, like Elijah, had compassion on the mothers and raised their sons. There is the natural grief of a parent for a child in the story, but the details provided about them being widows and their sons being their only child is important. The best hope for these women to be cared for in their old age was their sons. The burden of grief would be multiplied in both cases by falling into lives of destitution and further poverty. The sons were beyond any need in their deaths, but Elijah and Jesus after him had compassion on the mothers, and brought their sons back to life.

Healing stories are all throughout the Bible and each has a deeper meaning past the miracle it tells. Stories of death and life are the most profound since they plumb the depths of human emotion and need. Our point of contact with them is in our deepest moments of emotion and need. I recently spoke with a woman whose partner of many years died. She spoke of her anger at God. "How could he do this to her," she cried. I knew her pain and have felt it also. I too survived a partner's death and felt the anger aimed at God. In time I came to a different conclusion though. In time I came to realize that death is a release to the person who is ill. It is, in fact, the ultimate healing. The heaven I believe our loved ones are in far exceeds any pain or tragedy they endured here. In my case I finally had to admit to myself that my anger at God had more to do with the question, not how could you do this to him, but how could you do this to me? The ones who are left behind to grieve have horrible pain as well. We experience a death in our own right. Our lives are emptier and filled with many unresolved issues, and the dreams of the future fall into shards of stabbing pain. While the dead are born to new life in God's love, we who are left behind, are faced with searching for new life, and it's painful and lasts a long time.

This, I believe, is where the widows' felt their anger and grief, and it was in this pain that Elijah and Jesus offered them new life. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all our loved ones could be told to rise off their death beds. But in the wisdom of scripture, it is we who are still in this life that have to rise off ours. We can turn to God for healing and the new life that grows. It does not grow immediately, unfortunately, but it does over time. I shared my story with the woman and validated her pain and disorientation. I told her it was going to hurt for a long time and that she was not going to feel comfortable wherever she was. Moving wasn't going to help. Changing churches wasn't going to help. For a while, nothing was going to help. The pain lessens in time, though it never goes away fully. But out of that grief comes a new strength and a new life. She was a bit taken aback by my bluntness, but at the same time seemed grateful. Sometimes we pad difficult truths too much, and they need to be taken head on.

The deaths in the scripture lessons prompted my telling this story, but I think the same is true for any deep pain we feel that can go deep into our souls. Ultimately, it's not the son of the women who are told to rise, but the women themselves. Whatever has happened in our lives that threatens our spiritual, emotional, or even physical well being - we are in further danger of falling into despair. As the oil crises worsens in the Gulf of Mexico, the shadows of death lengthen there in the untold number of deaths in the ecological sense, the animal and fish life, and the ways of life for those dependent on the sea for their livelihood.

God's love, in the form of Jesus' command comes to us, "Do not weep... I say to you rise." Sometimes we need a stern command to snap us out of our pain. Healing is in the rising. Ironically, even those preparing to die, can rise to a healing place in their acceptance and preparation.

In his letter to the Galatians, St. Paul talks of his new life rising from the death of his old one. His conversion has become well known to us in the revelation of Jesus to him as he rode to Damascus. In this lesson he says again how far up in the Jewish hierarchy he had gotten and how all that changed when he encountered the risen Christ. A new life opened to him that he could never have imagined. He, who had persecuted the church, became one of its staunchest advocates and evangelists.

Yesterday, two women were ordained deacons in the Cathedral in Newark. One of them, Mary Davis, did her field work here for two years and was very much part of this congregation. It was a real pleasure for me to be one of those who presented her to the Bishop for ordination. I was proud to see so many from St. George's there to support her on behalf of our church. As the preacher told them, "Everything's changed!" And for them it has. They will grow into their new lives as ordained clergy, discovering what that means in the particular ways in which God has called them into service.

Themes of death and life constantly cross our paths. Actual deaths of loved ones, loss of jobs, leaving homes we love, disappointments in love or family. The temptation will be to die inwardly. But the love of God is and always will be on the side of life. We may weep a little bit, but after a while the voice of Jesus will find ways to come to us and say, "Do not weep, I say to you arise." When this story comes into our lives, we may find ourselves in the role of the widow, perhaps the son, or perhaps Elijah. There will be anger, there will be pain, there will be confrontation. But ultimately there will be the healing love of God bringing new life and giving new meaning to the words of the widow of Zaraphath, "Now I know that you are a person of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth." Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ