Proper 16C: Jeremiah 1:4-10, Luke 13:10-17 “The Laying on of Hands”
I’d like to thank everyone who endured last week’s difficult topics during worship time. We heard about the faith of the early martyrs, we heard some hard sayings from Jesus about how his message would bring division to the earth and how he had more flames of purification to endure before he would leave his body.
We wondered during our time for meditation what the early Christians might have known that we may not yet know or believe. We wondered how they could endure captivity and gruesome deaths with love and courage. What gave these people the courage to face an ugly end and not flinch? They knew that we are not just bodies. They knew that we came from God and will return from God. They had been taught the love of Christ and had found the Christ in themselves. Markers like time and location faded away. They were part of a grander scheme, the whole tapestry of human history. They called this new consciousness “the kingdom of God.” They were able to heal others and work miracles by holding on to their new identities in God.
Today’s scripture lessons illuminate the power that they held through that new identity. We see Jeremiah accepting God’s call to become a prophet. The Old Testament writers show us how God’s Spirit functions not only as God’s agent in creation, but in special ways in the lives of persons. “The Spirit was God’s supernatural power coming on specific individuals for specific tasks. (The Spirit’s) coming might simply enhance the potential that a person already had. The Spirit’s endowment mediated creativity in the use of personal skills, such as the practice of crafts and the making of artistic designs. Or (the Spirit’s) presence might facilitate the exercise of leadership abilities…the Spirit’s presence meant that a prophet sensed the compulsion to speak on behalf of God.” (Grenz, p.473).
Certainly we are all aware of how the Spirit empowered Jesus to work many miracles. One of them takes place in today’s scripture lesson. Yes, we might use the passage from Luke to look once again at how Jesus was at odds with religious leaders about such matters as healing on the Sabbath. But I would rather lead us in another direction, similar to what we pondered last week. How were the disciples and others able to take hold of the ever-available power of the Holy Spirit and use it to heal as Jesus did? And might we be capable of such activity?
In today’s lesson, Jesus healed a woman by laying his hands upon her. To the early Christians, the laying on of hands was, for one thing, a part of the conversion experience. After believers were baptized in water, the outward declaration of inward faith, the believers had hands laid upon them. This was the sign of the reception of the Holy Spirit and of the oneness of God’s people. This was one symbolic expression of the mystery of conversion. (Grenz p. 561)
We well educated and often highly literate folks are often very suspicious of receiving charisms, or the gifts of the Spirit. We’re a lot more at home in our heads. The very thought of laying hands on someone seems strangely Pentecostal to us. And Pentecostal seems emotional and out of control. We don’t like to let ourselves go there.
Many years ago I had a client who was an accountant for a large publicly owned firm. He had various and sundry issues with himself and his marriage. He was a nominal Lutheran, a Lutheran in name. His primary issue seemed to be that he lived in daily fear that the officers of his organization would turn their sites on him and he would lose his job. He hated his job, because it used not one iota of his creativity, but he loved the money and the security. After all, he had two small children and a wife to support. He seemed to be in danger of becoming what I call “dry wood,” that is, those people who allow the life blood to drain out of them for reasons of safety, security, fear or just lack of imagination. We did some exploring of his creative side. He was delightfully verbal and skilled with the use of words. His days were numbers, but his sessions were words, and explorations and possibilities.
I don’t know how it happened, but one Sunday night he decided to go to a Pentecostal church service in the town where he lived. He was stunned to discover that it touched him to the very core of his being. He was well educated, wore a suit to work every day and drove a nice car, but somehow none of that mattered in the presence of these folks and the power of the Holy Spirit.
Kathleen Norris, in her book Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith, tells a similar story of a doctoral student she knew at Princeton University. “Along with other seminary students, he would sometimes attend Pentecostal revival meetings, partly out of curiosity, partly to analyze the revivalist preaching style, partly to research a brand of American Christianity that differed greatly from anything he had experienced. Shouting, screaming, openly weeping, and collapsing on the floor are not typically a feature of Presbyterian worship,” noted Norris.
“One night, to his great surprise, he found himself speaking a tongues, a form of rapid, ecstatic speech that can sound like nonsense…He was embarrassed, his friends were embarrassed: and they all knew better than to discuss this back at Princeton.” This man went on to get his degree and to become ordained. But he kept his Pentecostal experience in the closet, though he valued it highly.
Norris goes on to say that “religious prejudice does so much damage in the world, and is so pervasive…It was an unexpected friendship with an Assembly of God pastor that finally caused my stereotypes of Pentecostal Christians to crumble…” She had expected the man to be moralistic and judgmental, but he was not. He valued Norris and her husband, who are poets, for their ability to be spontaneous and put things into words. He valued experience over credentials. The Holy Spirit is, of course, the great equalizer, just as that Spirit was the equalizer for my well-dressed accountant when he entered into ecstatic worship. Norris felt a special blessing from this minister as she had always been self conscious about the lack of a higher degree. His praise of her “native intelligence” was a balm for her soul.
After reflecting on the seeming differences she noted between Pentecostal worshippers, those who did not rely on texts to experience God, and the folks in her own Presbyterian congregation, she had a kind of vision of all of them coming together, bearing each other’s wounds, offering differing gifts. She saw those who could describe the faith and those who could only live it. She saw those who could speak in tongues, and those who interpret. “Those who write, and those who sing. Those who have knowledge, and those who are only wise in the sight of God. Each of us poor and in need of love, yet rich in spirit. Each of us speaking the language we know, and being understood.” Indeed, she envisioned a present Pentecost.
Perhaps you know someone who could receive a blessing from you, who could benefit greatly from your own belief that you can be a conduit for the Holy Spirit. All we have to do is get out of the Spirit’s way and see that we are all one.
Here are some words that I came across last week that I have rewritten for our use today. May we hear them for our own healing. “I am God’s Child, complete and healed and whole, shining in the reflection of God’s Love for me. In me is God’s creation sanctified and guaranteed eternal life. In me is love perfected, fear impossible, and joy established without opposite. I am the holy home of God. I am the Heaven where God’s Love resides. God teaches me that what I forgive becomes a part of me, enabling me to work miracles as a mirror to God’s eternal Love. To offer miracles is to remember God, and through God’s memory to save the world. Today I let Christ’s vision look upon all things and judge them not, but give each one a miracle of love instead.” Amen
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