Joining the crowds in difficult teachings . . .

     No doubt our brothers and sisters who have been listening to sermons on the Eucharist are making all kinds of “stale” jokes today.  Can you imagine?  Five weeks of sermons specifically on the Eucharist.  For those of you who have been gone the last couple weeks, we have jumped from Mark to John for a five week sojourn on the nature of sacrament.  Jesus has fed the 5000 men, besides women and children.  Now, He and the disciples have returned to Capernaum.  In many ways, a parallel teaching has been happening here.  Jesus has been warning the crowd not to chase after the perishable, but imperishable.  More specifically, He has been warning the crowd to follow Him.  And His teaching is proving difficult for people to understand or to accept.

     Two weeks ago, Jesus declared His eminence above Moses by feeding the 5000 men plus women and children without intercession.  He blessed the bread; He broke the bread; He instructed His disciples to feed the crowd until all were satisfied.  There was no intercession with God because, as we all know this side of the Cross and Resurrection, He is God Incarnate.  The miracle should not have been lost on all who saw it, but it was.  Everyone ate from five loaves and two fish until they were satisfied.  Everyone.  And when the disciples collected the leftovers, there were twelve baskets.  The math doesn’t work, but I guess the saying is true that five out of four people are bad at math.

     Last week, Jesus pushed the understanding of the crowd.  Not only was Jesus greater than Moses, as demonstrated by the miraculous feeding and gathering of the leftovers, but He is the bread that has come down from heaven to give life to the world.  The people were hoping for bread in the sense of food.  The Temple leaders expected that the manna was wisdom of God.  Neither the crowd nor the leaders were willing to accept Jesus’ teaching on His own terms.  Neither were they willing to accept His teaching on the work of God.  The work of God, Jesus taught them, was to believe in the One upon whom He has set His seal.  Like many of us, the Jews wanted to earn their salvation.  They wanted to believe they were worthy of a special relationship with God.  They were.  Just not in the way they wanted to be.  They wanted their knowledge of and living in accordance to the teachings of God, the torah, to prove they were special in God’s eyes.  They missed that what made them special was the fact that, of all the peoples of the earth, God had chosen them!  Nothing inherent made them special.  What made them special was the covenant declared by God.

     Jesus’ teaching is difficult, to be sure.  But I wonder at the claims of some theologians and commentators and preachers that Jesus is trying to be obnoxious and cryptic in this section.  There seems to be a desire to claim that Jesus does not want the crowds to “get” His message.  We do such a good job of ignoring God’s message or assuming that it is not meant for us or for being jerks in His name that I truly doubt that Jesus ever tries to be confusing or a jerk enough to drive us or others away.  Part of the reason, I think, that we find this section so challenging is that we do not see the imagery Jesus is using in the way that the crowd did.

     All of Jesus’ teaching, as I shared two weeks ago, takes place in a Passover understanding.  The mountain, the meal, the leftovers all point to the overarching significance of Jesus’ activity and teaching.  Many in the crowd thought that Messiah would bring freedom from Roman oppression.  Jesus came to bring freedom, but not just from Roman oppression.  Jesus came to feed God’s people with God’s bread, but it was not manna or “knowledge” He brought, but rather Himself.  These are hard teachings.  How can this son of a carpenter claim to be the Son of God?  How can this itinerant teacher claim to be of more significance than Moses?  Put differently, their knowledge of Jesus prevents them from having a right understanding of and right relationship with Jesus.  In many ways they are not unlike the demons that Jesus encounters.  They know who Jesus is, but that knowledge does not drive them to accept Him as Lord.  And, if Jesus is to be believed in this teaching and in these encounters, a wrong relationship with Him has eternal consequences.  No wonder they grumble; no wonder they talk so much among themselves!

     Look at our passage today.  They grumble about their knowledge of His parentage.  Does Jesus launch into a discussion of the Incarnation?  No.  He reminds them that they do not necessarily know what they think they know.  Those who think they are special because they are descendants of Abraham or because they worship God are not given any credit for their work or their ancestry.  No one can come to Me unless drawn by the Father who sent me.  The verb in play is the same verb used to describe the haul of the nets of fisherman.  Such an illustration in a port city would be offensive to many.  What do you mean “God is dragging me into the boat”?  I chose to worship Him of my own free will.  Jesus is teaching them and us that they and we must trust Him, but even that initial bit of trust results from the Father hauling on us.  Do we understand this?  Does it make sense to us?

     Look at this crowd in our story.  All who are present were at the feeding of the 5000 men or heard about the feeding of the 5000 men.  I suppose it is possible that others are there because of curiosity regarding other signs, but all have heard of this particular sign.  In the presence of thousands, He fed and collected the leftovers.  The messianic sign of Moses has been given, and does anyone truly understand it?  To use the image of Isaiah, they have eyes and do not see.

     Jesus even goes so far as to meet them where they are, even though the crowds do not ask that kind of question.  They are so focused on what they think they know, we know His mom and dad; we know from whence He comes, that they miss His offer.  For those who are hungry, He offers a bread that will keep them from death; for those who seek the wisdom of God, He offers to teach, in fulfilment of God’s promises.  Yes, His teaching is shocking.  Yes, His teaching is radical.  But the shock and radical nature of His teaching do not obviate its truth.  The people of God want to be restored to an intimate relationship with God.  God wants His people restored.  To accomplish this, the Son of God will offer His flesh.  Now, it is upon those listening to His teaching to “eat” this bread.  Those who hear the Gospel must decide whether to believe and appropriate the gift of eternal life or to remain in the secure “knowledge” and die apart from God’s offered blessing.  For all the complexity of the passage, its message is rather simple.  Do you believe?

     We talk often of the mystery of meeting Jesus in the Sacraments.  Those outward signs of inward and spiritual grace remind us, instruct us, and challenge us in ways we can never truly theologize or explain.  In that, we should be reading John as we contemplate the Passover that Jesus has in mind.  Put in today’s language, if we are scandalized by the idea that eating the flesh of Christ Jesus saves us, how will we ever find ourselves, our sinful selves, ever truly crucified with Him even as our redeemed selves are resurrected in Him?  Admittedly, these passages are easier for those of who come after the Cross and after the Resurrection than they were for those to whom Jesus was speaking in Capernaum nearly 2000 years ago.  But easier does not always mean easy.  We have the focusing lens of the Cross which teaches us that this dying flesh of which Jesus speaks, given as an offering for the life of the world, is true.  But, like the crowds, how quickly are we to forget?  How quickly are we to misunderstand?  How quickly are we to deny?

     One of the reasons I have purposely avoided focusing upon the Eucharist the last three weeks is that Jesus’ and John’s teaching is not just about the Eucharist.  Yes, we see Eucharistic suggestions in the feeding of the 5000 men.  Yes, we understand that His flesh is the bread of life.  But Jesus is taking on imagery in this section of John, imagery and meaning from the Jewish culture, and reinterpreting it.  Jesus is reminding them and us that He is the focus of the Passover meal.  Jesus is the real bread that gives life.  Jesus is the means by which the world is saved.  You and I are reminded of that truth in the Eucharist, but in the other sacraments as well.

     My mind this week has been on two that, quite simply, are privileges in the life of a priest.  The first is Reconciliation.  As I was leading some lay women in the parish to serve as lay ministers for reconciliation this week, I tried to explain to them the thankfulness of those who will hear their words of forgiveness.  I did an ok job.  I also know they will not truly understand my words until they have seen the burden lift from the shoulders of the one confessing across from them.  It is every bit as visible as I am today.  But what causes that burden to lift?  What causes that heart to soar?  What causes one to dare to hope?  The very truth that Jesus explains here.  He gave His flesh so that we might live forever.  He died for our sins so that we could be taught by God, we could be indwelled by the Holy Spirit, so that we could truly glorify the Father.  He laid down His life that we might understand what true love is and share in that true love for ever!

     The other sacramental mystery where the truth revealed by Jesus in today’s passage is on full display is at the time of death.  I once had a professor explain to me that there was no greater privilege, no greater honor, than to be the one called when someone was near death.  At the time, I thought Gavin’s insistence was misplaced.  Surely adult baptisms were fantastic.  Are not conversions what we are all about?  A few weeks later, I had my first privileged encounter.  And then I grasped part of what Jesus is saying here and part of what Gavin was trying to teach us.  I cannot recall the number of “Ministrations at the Time of Death”of which I have been a part.  They blur, but in an amazing way.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, goes through those moments as they near that wall and begins to doubt.  Saints who have entered into glory ahead of me and who will be so close to the throne that I can, at best, hope to recognize the back of their head from where I will be standing go through this, as do those who would describe themselves more “ordinary.”  They begin to doubt that their life was not good enough, that they did not love Jesus enough, that their sins were of such a nature never to be forgiven.  A commentator, whose name slips my mind, I later read called it the “Garden of Gethsemane” temptation of humanity.  There is always that last ditch effort by God’s Enemy to try and steal a soul away.  I suppose, in a strange way, it is a temptation we share with our Lord, though His was of a messianic nature.  I do not care how much of a saint the person was in life, always there is that “prick” of conscience or building fear.  And it is in the midst of that particular effort that we are called to speak these words of Jesus one last time to the sheep of His redeeming.  He gave His life for you and promised you that He would be with you to the end of the ages.  Don’t you remember?  Those who have sat with me and a dying family member will tell you way more words are spoken, but this is the conversation at its most distilled moment.  You have eaten of that flesh and you will share in His promise.

     Much of what has been occurring these last couple weeks and in much of John for that matter, brothers and sisters, has been a re-focusing by Jesus.  Jesus has been teaching those whom He encounters how He is the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation.  Earlier, He told the woman at the well that He was the living water.  Here, He teaches us that He in the bread of life.  In between, He has worked amazing signs, each testifying to the crowd and those who hear the stories that He is who He says He is, the Messiah, the Anointed, God’s Son.  The Jews and Gentiles who hear His teachings are right to feel that their world is all jumbled.  If what Jesus teaches is true, their world will be turned topsy-turvy.  No longer is the focus of worship going to be a specific place.  No longer is the wisdom of God going to be reserved for a few professionals.  The focus of worship will be Jesus.  Where two or three are gathered, He will be in the midst of them.  What He offers is so much better than water to slake a thirst or bread to fill a tummy.  He offers the opportunity to share in God’s love.  Forever.  Like fish in a net we might be trying hard to escape the net He has set for us.  To paraphrase a popular movie, we might have given up on Him for a time, but never has He given up on us.  But to share in these sacramental mysteries, to share in the redeeming love, to drink from that life-giving fount, we must first acknowledge our need for Him and His offer to us.  Then, brothers and sisters, having eaten and having accepted, we become active participants in the redemption of the world by God.  In this sacramental mystery, we become signposts, we become ambassadors, point those whom we encounter to that same spring, that same bread, Jesus, that they might, too, have eternal life!

 

Peace,

Brian†

Healing for the healers and the world . . .

     We continue with week two in our foray into the sacraments.  Those here last week were a bit surprised I did not talk more specifically about the Eucharist.  I mentioned it, to be sure.  Jesus blesses, breaks, and distributes the five loaves and two fish, much as we distribute the bread and wine during the Eucharist.  Perhaps more significantly, John calls Jesus’ blessing a Eucharist, a joyful thanksgiving!  But, as I said last week, the Eucharist was not the focus of last week’s readings.  John was more interested in telling his audience that Jesus ranked higher than Moses.  Much of what went on last week was Jesus’ claim that He was the Son of Man, the Anointed.  He was the One to whom Moses was pointing; He was the One who had come into the world.  The Eucharist, as you and I understand it, is not formally command by our Lord until the night of the Last Supper.

     Seeing as how we have a small crowd and everyone is Episcopalian and we are introducing a new service today, though, we should spend a bit more time on our understanding of the Sacraments.  If I asked you to define the Sacraments, could you.  An outward sign of an inward and visible grace.  You thought you were done with such quizzes when you were confirmed, did you not?  I notice nearly everyone joined in as we said the definition.  Everybody seems to be able to say the line.  But do we know what it means?  Are we able to describe to people in our lives the nature of the Sacraments?  I suspect, were I to stop and quiz us, there would be some horrible panic.  Don’t worry, we would not be alone.  The idea of the Sacraments caused more than one skirmish in Europe and a number of fights within our own church.

     For example, how many sacraments are there in our church?  I heard a lot of “seven’s” and a lot of “two’s.”  Those of you who said another number can see me in the Parish Hall about scheduling a new confirmation class!  The sevens and twos drowned out all the other answers because that was where the fight was when our church came into being.  If we look at the 39 Articles, yes we have articles of our faith, we can see that our forebears settled on two dominical sacraments.  By that, our founders understood that Jesus only commissioned Baptism and the Eucharist.  The fact that our Lord gave them makes them dominical in nature.  But, more than a few of us have migrated to Advent from RC and Orthodox churches.  Those stated seven because Confirmation, Penance, Orders, Matrimony, and Unction are considered sacraments in other churches.  We will not be resolving which tradition is right today, or any day in the future, for that matter, but we will be exploring their role in the Church, as they speak to the truth declared by our Lord today in the Gospel reading.

     Our Gospel reading picks off right where we left off last week.  Jesus has crossed over to the Capernaum by walking on the water, scaring His disciples in the process.  Finding Jesus in Capernaum, they are surprised.  He went up the mountain while the disciples got into the boat.  How could He make it here ahead of them?  So they ask.  What follows is a conversation not unlike the one Jesus had with the woman at the well in chapter 4.  Jesus gives them an answer to a question they do not ask.  Jesus tells them they are looking for Him not because they understand who He is, but because they ate and were satisfied.  Then He gives a warning: Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.  Fair enough.  Who would not want bread that gives eternal life?  So they ask Jesus what they must do to perform the works of God, as if they are ignorant of the torah.  Jesus instructs them that the work of God is to believe in Him whom God has sent.  Naturally, the people are in the mind of the Passover.  Jesus has just blessed the bread and fish and distributed.  There was no prayer to God to feed the people.  Jesus has accomplished this work on His own, laying claim to the idea that He ranks higher than Moses.  But it is a remarkable claim!  The people are unwilling to let the claim go unchallenged.  Show us another sign, and we will believe You are the Messiah. 

     Jesus’ answer is effectively, I have already given you the sign.  But His answer is also far deeper than they realize.  God is the source of the heavenly bread, and Jesus is the One sent by God.  The true manna is God’s Anointed, Jesus!  The crowd’s response is nearly identical to the woman at the well a couple chapters earlier.  The crowd asks for this bread, just as she asked for this water.  Jesus takes on to Himself the role of the dispenser of God’s blessing.  Water and bread were considered life giving symbols of God’s blessing.  Jesus, in His instruction over these two chapters, is claiming to be The Distributor of God’s blessing on the people, both Jew and Gentile!  It is an amazing claim!  A claim that, without the power and testimony of the Resurrection, would be vapid!  We know the rest of the story.  We are not surprised.  We are simply awed by the depth and presentation of Jesus to the people.  Wow!  He really is the life-giving spring.  Wow!  He really is the Bread of Life.  The leaders, of course, will reject His teaching.  But so will the people.

     Why do I share this story in this way today and begin with the brief discussion of the sacraments?  I wonder how quick we are, as the Church that stands in the shadow of the Cross and the glory of the Empty Tomb, to forget His promise and power and desire to do only good for us?  Do we really believe He is the Anointed, sent by God, who wants nothing but the best for us?  Our outward and visible testimony as a parish is that we do not.  I am not a big fan of imposing my will on a parish.  In fact, I am not a big fan of imposing what I think is God’s will on a parish during the first year of a relationship.  There is too big a chance for hurt, for mistakes, for misunderstandings, and who knows what else.  But we are a parish who, I have learned, is slow to lay claim to the benefits of His Passion.  If we look back in Acts, we see the Church laying on hands and anointing, expecting God to work in their midst.  The result was that people came to the Church for healing.  Some chose to join; others chose to walk away.  For all our claim of modern superiority, we are really no different than the crowds about which we read.

     To be sure, at time we at Advent have tried a Healing service.  Always, I am told, it has been a behind the scenes effort.  Maybe it was done at a weekday service; maybe it was done at a weekday service for a season like Lent or Advent.  It does not seem to have been a primary focus of the parish.  Why?  If God is God, if God has taught us to lay on hands and anoint for healing, if there is a need in our parish community and the wider community, and if so many of us devote our lives to healthcare, why is this not a central part of our identity?  Why are we not a parish that expects God to move powerfully among us and heal us and heal our visitors?  Have we accepted the sign?  Have we accepted the Truth?

     After some discussing with the Search Committee, the Vestry, and Liturgy & Worship committee, I agreed to go ahead and launch this service early.  I won’t go into all the details, but the event that caused me to ignore best practices and plunge headlong into this was the Time & Talents work of the Vestry.  My small group all identified healing as a gift, a charism, that I should be claiming.  When I asked why, they had no real concrete answer.  All agreed; yet none could explain.  To me, it sounded much like a Holy Spirit moment.  You see, I have had that charism confirmed far too many times to ignore.  Here was another.  They knew I should be about healing for God, but they did not know the back story.  So, by way of sharing with you and lowering some anxieties, I now share with the parish.

     Some years ago I was called by a hospital to come and do last rites for a man suffering from a brain aneurism.  The nurse calling me said I needed to hurry.  It was after 2am, so this was her way of saying he would be gone by morning and that I could not wait.  I got dressed and headed to the hospital.  When I got there, I grabbed my prayer book and oil from the van.  I headed to the room to give last rites to a man from a neighboring parish (it turned out his priest was on vacation).  When I entered the room, the medical staff cleared out to give me, the wife, and the dying man some privacy.  His wife, as you might imagine, was pleading, crying, acting as one who could do nothing for the man she loved.  She was so sorry I had been woken up, but she had nowhere else to turn.  I opened that prayer book, turned to page 462, and got stuck.

     You have all only known me for seven months.  Have I struck you as someone whose tongue is often tied?  It’s ok to laugh.  I did afterwards as well.  I am a pretty good reader.  Before I was ordained, I was one of those readers that would step in last minute at my parish.  But I found myself unable to say the words, Almighty Father, look on this Your servant, lying in great weakness, and comfort him with the promise of everlasting life.  Three times I tried.  Three times I failed.  Then I recognized what was happening.  Still, even though I realized that my tongue was being bound, I was unwilling to give words to the prayer welling up inside of me.  I had a soon to be widow next to me, softly crying and sniffling.  If I prayed the prayer willing up, what kind of sick bastard was I?  I felt a . . . compulsion to pray a prayer of life-giving power in front of a soon-to-be-widow.  My words, I knew, would hurt her immeasurably in the days, weeks, and months to come.  I asked her to step out.  She refused.  I told her I was sorry, but I had to pray a different prayer.

     I wish I had written it down.  Brothers and sisters, to this day it is the most remarkable prayer ever to cross my lips.  I reminded our Lord that it was the season of Epiphany, that season when we celebrate the revelation of Jesus to the Gentiles.  I reminded the Lord that He was the Healer and that I stood in a place that claimed to be full of healers.  How cool would it be for Him to act yet again, reminding doctors and nurses where true healing was to be found and manifesting His glory to a world in desperate need!

     I had no sooner got the words out when the man sat up and said, “I’ve got to pee.”

     Brothers and sisters, as your new pastor, I would like to claim that I understood what had happened right at the outset.  I would be lying.  I think the first words right out of my mouth were “holy crap!” or something along those lines.  I had a dying man trying to get out of bed and go to the bathroom.  We needed help.  

     I don’t think the wife understood the significance either.  As I explained that I would get a nurse and he continued to struggle to get out of bed, she pig-piled him.  Between the sniffles and struggles, she was giving him the “you listen here” that only couples who have spent decades together can get away with.  He was giving her the “what is wrong with you” just as well.

     Now I had an elderly man and his elderly wife wrestling on a hospital bed.  I just knew there was a broken hip or concussion headed our way.  So I ran down the hall to find a nurse or doctor.  I found “Susan.”  Susan, I need your help.  He’s up trying to go to the bathroom and his wife is trying to pin him to the bed.  “Father, father, I know you want to believe that God does miracles.  I have worked as a nurse for 22 years.  I can tell you with certainty, God, if he exists, does not heal.”  Great, great, someone needs to tell the patient because he seems to think he needs to go pee.  “Father, he can’t be talking, he can’t be moving.  I’ve seen the scans.  He’s probably already gone.  We just called you because his wife asked for someone.”  Great.  You come tell him he’s dead and does not need to pee and should not be wrestling with his wife.

     Folks, I was literally tugging at her to come with him.  I knew it was a matter of time before we heard the crash of this older couple knocking over equipment.  The whole time down the hall she is giving me the “lecture” about never seeing a miracle, never seeing a sign that could point to a god.  I’m like can we please walk faster!  Finally, we make it to the room.  It takes her a second.  An eighty year old man and mid 70’s year old woman are wrestling on a hospital bed.  But, professional as always, Susan recovered her wits, entered the room, hit the emergency button, and started trying to disentangle the couple.  The cacophony of sounds will stay with me to my dying day.  Susan trying to get the couple to quit wrestling before someone got hurt, the wife telling the husband he will be staying there until a nurse or doctor gets there, the patient fighting mad about having to pee, and the voice at the other end of the button trying to get us to state what response team was needed.  God had acted marvelously, and humanity was confused!—much like our story these two weeks.

     In many ways, though, it is the after-effects of the sign that I want to point out.  After all, how many of us sitting here today tell ourselves that, had we eaten of the fish and loaves, we would have known who Jesus was and never demanded another sign?  Don’t raise your hand; just place yourself in the story.  In mine, there were a couple of interesting take-away’s.  For some months after this miracle, I would be grabbed by a nurse or doctor or someone who had heard about the priest in the green shirt.  The miracle had occurred in Epiphany (and I wore white), but somehow it came to be associated with the green shirt.  Father, would pray over this one.  Father, do you have a minute?  Any time I went to visit a parishioner in the hospital, someone was grabbing me to pray for the desperate, the ones for whom medicine had no answer.  What really disappointed me as a parish priest was the fact that so few doctors and nurses had come to my church in the aftermath.  I’m a parish priest.  One of our job descriptions, whether it is formally acknowledged or not is “grow the church.”  Surely, after such an incredible miracle, and make no mistake—doctors and nurses told me repeatedly for months that they had never seen anything like it--, people would be drawn to the church, right?  I think three doctors and their family units made it to Easter, but none, so far as I know, found their way into a church community.

     I would ask.  Where were you?  Where are you going?  Maybe the sign was for you, why are you not seeking Him?  Over and over I would ask, to no effect.  Then a strange blessing happened.  My parish got well.  Although we were an older parish, I went 26 months or so between hospital visits.  I was not shirking my duties.  No one was getting sick; no one was getting hurt.  We started to notice it.  I wondered aloud what was going on.  One of my intercessors, a lady who will be far closer to the throne than I, pointed out that God was not allowing Himself or His priest to be used.  The sign of healing had been given to healers, and they had rejected it.  Her guess or prophesy was that I would not return until those doctors and nurses had forgotten the sign.  She was right.  Once illness and emergencies return to my cure, most in the hospital had forgotten me.

     Why do I share a downer ending and focus on Jesus’ ignoring peoples’ questions today?  In a few moments, we are going to start a new service at Advent, one of Healing.  I will invite all those who would like prayer and anointing to come forward.  I will anoint with healing oil consecrated by our bishop, lay hands, and pray.  I do not yet know the prayers I will say; I do not yet know the need in this congregation.  But I will pray.  And you and I will expect God to act.

     Here’s the thing.  When we approach our Lord and ask questions, He does not always give us the answers we seek.  He gives us, instead, the answers we need.  In a few minutes, the brave will come forward, hopeful that our Lord will act in their lives.  Some will even come bartering, telling God if He does this they will do that.  Brothers and sisters, God is not manipulated.  God is not a quid-pro-quo kind of Lord.  He is our Father in heaven who wants only great things for us.  You will come and ask for pains to be eased, for disease to be cured, for relationships to be reconciled, for provision, and for any number of other perceived needs.  I will dutiful anoint and pray over you.  In the end, though, we must trust the One whom He has sent, the One upon whom He has placed His seal and His pledge.  We must trust, no matter the outcome, that our Lord wants only good for us and that He is always working to redeem evil in our lives.  But, and we must hear this but, we are not placing our faith in the cured backaches, the wiped away cancer, or even the stalling of death that I shared this morning.  Our trust is in the Lord!  He will act and do what is best for us, whether we know it or not, whether we agree with it or not, and whether the world will notice or not.

     Each week we gather around that altar and pray to God that we receive all the benefits of His passion.  Today, we will begin to claim those benefits, not as timid or frail, but as deeply loved firstborn sons and daughters.  We will approach that throne of grace asking Him once again to do what is best for us because it is in His nature so to do.  We will ask the Healer to heal, not because we deserve it, but because we have placed our faith in Jesus, His Anointed.  The Bread of life and the source of all life-giving water.  But we will do so, and I will remind you in prayers, cognizant of the fact that we have a share in His Son’s ministry.  Sometimes, how we handle suffering is the means by which God reaches into the lives of others.  You and I may desperately want another sign, as did our brothers and sisters in Capernaum 2000 years ago, but The Sign has already been given.  We will trust, as He shows up this morning in power, that the healing He gives us is the healing we need.  Then fortified, and maybe in light of yet another sign, we, many of whom who are healers, will return to the world ready to tell yet again of the wonders the Healer has done.

 

Peace,

Brian†