Here is Fr. David's homily from Sunday, November 22nd, the Feast of Christ the King. Your comments, of course, are welcome.

To Have a King

What does it mean,
to have a king?

The very idea –
Isn’t it a bit of a reach too far,
into the mists of time, the long-ago ways
that saw people everywhere
ruled by solitary human beings,
exalted as though they were super human.
Good kings and queens, and bad ones?

Tyrants, and – rarely –
humble stewards of the good of the people.

Rich and regal,
proud and presumptuous,
all powerful in their dominions,
none dare challenge them.

Ordering nations into war,
approving plunder and pillage,
conquering wherever possible,

gathering new lands to expand their kingdoms,
to bring still more wealth, on which to fatten themselves.

What does it mean, to have a king?

Ah, the kings and queens of history . . .

When I say, “King,”
is the immediate association in your mind
a positive one, or negative, or neutral?

It seems, doesn’t it, that the images we retain of kings and queens,
whether from books and movies
or from an actual study of real history,
tend to be . . . negative.

Because we live in a democratic republic,
we Americans are wary of kings.
It’s in the very fibre of our being.
Our own revolution, in 1776,was a rebellion against
the tyrannical rule of King George of England.

Of course, we weren’t against all kings at the time,
as we eagerly accepted the aid of the King of France, for example.
And to this day, our nation’s leaders
routinely engage with and honor kings and queens,
some of whom are merely in ceremonial roles,
but some of whom are still absolute rulers -
the King of Saudi Arabia, the Sultan of Brunei,
the royal family of Bahrain, and many others.

President Obama got in a little hot water last week
for apparently bowing tothe emperor of Japan,
just as he had months ago to the Saudi king.

We have decidedly mixed feelings about kings and queens,
even in our democratic republic of America.

And then there is the church.

From medieval times onward,
Roman Catholic popes and other prelates of the church
were treated as royalty.

Sitting in thrones, wearing heavily jeweled robes and crowns,
ruling with absolute authority in their realms,
expecting, and receiving,
the humble, pious submission of their subjects.

Did you know that the installation of a pope is called
a papal coronation?
The pope is the Monarch of the Holy See,
and Sovereign of Vatican City.

The cardinals are called “Princes of the Church.”

What does it mean, to have a king?


In Jesus’ time,there were kings, of course,
and had been, for all of known history.

Jesus was targeted, as a newborn infant, by King Herod.
He was put to death by Pontius Pilate,
a regional governor appointed by the Emperor, Caesar.


Jesus knew about kings.
Listen to today’s Gospel. Pilate was absolutely fixated
on whether Jesus was claiming to be a king,
and if so, where was his kingdom, exactly?
Was it a rival kingdom,out to undermine,
perhaps to overthrow, the rule of Caesar?

Jesus said, “My kingdom does not belong to this world.”

Claiming his kingship,
but claiming it was a transcendent kingship that he held,
not of this world.

I’ll bet Pilate really understood that.

A transcendent kingship. A kingdom utterly . . . other.

If you try to think of Jesus Christ as a king,
do you have to squirm your way into the notion,

or does it spring freely, rightly, fittingly into your consciousness?

Are we so uncomfortable with the notions of regal rulers,
including rulers of the churches,
that it seems unnatural, even unholy maybe,
to include Jesus in their lot?

Well, but are we really including Jesus alongside Caesar,
and the Saudi kings, and the popes and their princes?

Or are we saying that this Jesus,
our Christ, our Messiah, our Savior,
truly is the king of all creation?

A king in a mold never fitted to any other.

Our music today sings to us the qualities of such a king:

Crown him with many crowns, the lamb upon his throne.
Awake my soul, and sing of him who died for thee,
Who triumph’d oer the grave,
Who on the third day did arise and hope to sinners gave.

This is not the sort of tribute music
that earthly kings and queens have commanded.

Who came eternal life to bring,
Who lives, no more to die.
Throughout the earth his praise resounds
for he is Lord of all.

No, these words speak to our spirits,
of the transcendent reality of Christ, our king.

There is no other,like him.
No place, like his kingdom.

The king of love my shepherd is,
whose goodness fails me never;
I nothing lack if I am his,
and he is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow
with gentle care he leads me;
and where the verdant pastures grow,
with heavnly food he feeds me.

What does it mean,to have a king?

We have to think . . . so far beyond our world of reckoning,
beyond our messy human history,
beyond the failed reigns of human kings and queens,
beyond the royal trappings of their rule
and the sometimes cruel brunt of their rulings.

We have to imagine, beyond this life, beyond this earth.

And yet at the same time,
at the very same instant,
we can perceive Christ our King
everso real in this life, on this earth,
with us here, and now,
his kingdom already present to us,
in the life of the Spirit,
in the holy reality of the Eucharist,
in what we do together, here,
in our realization of his continuing mission,
in our lives as his disciples.

Oh, yes -

We have a king,

and it means . . . everything.

Amen.

On October 11th, Mother Teri Harroun presided at our Eucharist. It was a wonderful thing to have her with us, so soon after her ordination to priesthood (which was on September 18th). She showed a warm heart, a real love for children - she initiated a "children's blessing," something we may make a very regular part of our liturgy - and she seemed very much at home in the role of priest and presider.

It kind of makes one want to pause. In thousands of Roman Catholic churches throughout the world, Teri could never do this. Attempting to do so would be a regarded as a grievous sin. Yet for us, it was the most natural and normal and right thing to do. Isn't it a curious and, yes, a very sad thing, that the churches which profess to follow Jesus could be so astoundingly divided on the participation of women alongside men?

We don't spend a lot of time in the Ecumenical Catholic Communion patting ourselves on the back for having opened all the sacraments to all God's people. We want the world to know we are open, but we are not prideful. At St. A's last week, we were much more focused on what Mother Teri had to share with us in her fine homily, and in her presence as presider, than in the fact of her gender. It was a wonderful occasion, because we were welcoming another new priest to the ministry founded by Christ. Won't it be all the more wonderful when, one day, the priest's gender wouldn't even be relevant?

Your thoughts?

Time Out for Fr. David

This past Sunday, I shared with our community that I'll be out of commission for a while, beginning Wednesday, September 9th. Some of you know that in recent months I've lost the good use of my right hand. At first we thought I'd had a stroke, but further studies showed the problem is in my cervical spine - a serious narrowing, impinging the spinal cord. So, I'm going to have a cervical spinal fusion. This will be at Boulder Community Hospital, where for years I served as Director of Pastoral Care. My docs are all good friends and former colleagues, and I trust them implicitly. More still, I'm trusting God in this one. I don't like it, and confess to a few worries and scares, but at the end of the proverbial day, it's pretty much in God's hands, isn't it?

So I'll be away for the better part of a month or so, and will be pretty limited when I return. No setting up the tables, for a while. No lifting, no vacuuming the church every Sunday morning. We'll kind of need everyone to pitch in for a while. You'll all do that, won't you? I know you will.

And I'll need your prayers, really will, and for that, in advance, thank you, and I love you all.

Choosing

Choice. What a loaded term in our day. I wonder what it first conjures for you?

Our readings yesterday, August 23rd, framed the notion of choice in the most fundamental way: whether we choose God, or another way. In my homily, I tried to illustrate how our alternative choices sometimes (frequently??) tend to go: for self will; for selfish intentions; for indulgence of anger, or greed, or vengeance; for self-flattery; for casting fate to the winds. Some of our human illusions make it easy to confuse the real choices we are making every day with a "sort of, kind of, faithful way of living." We rationalize that a loving God would never judge us for enjoying a moment of (fill in the blank). We justify ourselves in all sorts of contorted ways, rather than squarely reckon with the fact that we have actually, pretty neatly, chosen a way that goes against our God. We've made new, little gods, which make us feel - what? Better?

Oh, for sure, we often choose the Way, the Gospel path that Christ walked and invited us to walk with him. We choose honesty. We choose reconciliation rather than continued strife; we choose compassion; we are moved to acts of kindness. We listen to one another, and try for patience and understanding. These are choices for God, clear and powerful and full of grace.

The meditation I hope we'll all gravitate to is about the simple realization that in the ways we live out our ordinary lives on every average day, we are really making very powerful choices. And these have lasting effects on our outlook, our dispositions, and our readiness to choose for - or against - God, the next time.

Food for thought.

Sunday's Homily - Bread of Life

Yesterday was the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, and the readings were on the “Bread of Life” theme which follows on the previous week’s story of the miraculous feeding of the multitude with a few loaves and fishes. In my homily, I was trying to make connections to a few related thoughts: First, that what seemed true of Jesus’ followers is probably often true of us – that we don’t “get it,” that is, we probably don’t grasp the fullness of the gift, or its meaning or potential for our everyday lives. It’s not merely bread to allay physical hunger. It’s a gift of himself - direct, immediate, absolutely present in our lives. In that sense, it's the original "soul food," containing everything we need for the spiritual journey. Does that resonate with you? Do you get it, you think, or is it tough to get your mind around it?


Another point I tried for is that this gift of his own self comes to us not only in communion – in the consecrated bread and wine. It is surely present there, but also in the Word of God we receive in the Scriptures, the homily, the prayers. And it is present in all of us gathered together, Christ present in us. Each of these aspects is as important and integral as the others. Make sense? What do you think of this?


And finally, I hoped to say to us all: If you’re struggling with faith, with belief, with knowing Christ, it’s ok. We all struggle. Remember, your involvement, your very presence at the table says you are hoping to respond to God, and to hear God’s voice some more. You're in the conversation! Please don’t be hard on yourself, or think you’re just not trying hard enough. “I’m not spiritual enough,” someone said. Nonsense – you’re fine, you’re one of us, you came from God and God is with you. Ask your questions, and become as willing as you can. Belief, and its deeper cousin, faith, will come to us all, each in different ways and at different times. But doubt and struggle are not signs of weakness or failure. What do you think of this idea?


Please, share your comments. And blessings for the day!

The Appreciation of Priests

Here is a posting from parishioner and choir stalwart and all-around good person Sharon Friedman:


Some of you know that I attend an Evening Prayer group composed of people in Clare Choir http://mscchoir.pergamentum.com/. I do that because it is a green pasture for liturgical musicians (asks little but gives much) who like chant, Latin and such like. If you like the internet radio station “choral treasures” you’ll probably like it.

This group had been meeting at Calvary Episcopal in Golden and moved to Spirit of Christ in Arvada for the future. Tonight was our first night there- meets at 6:15 Sundays.. all are welcome!

Anyway, I find that the Director of Clare Choir, Carma’s homilies are often a counterpoint or blend with the homily from Dave or Stan. Tonight our homily was about the “Year of the Priest” and the feastday of St. John Vianney, patron saint of parish priests, on August 4. Now I had not heard of "the year of the priest", since it’s probably an RC thang. She mentioned how we need to let priests know that we appreciate them and give them support, ask them how they are doing, etc. I guess they have two priests there for 2500 families and one of them is ill. My reflections were that in our situation at St. A’s we have 2 for 20-50 individuals. What a blessing!

But I wondered if the fact that they are not full time paid staff of the parish may place them in a situation where we don’t think they need our appreciation and support. I also wonder if perhaps they don’t need it more.. one has another job and one we’re barely paying. I know how blessed I am but I think , well, if I tell Dave it might go to his head.. or I’m too busy… or by the time I want to give feedback on a homily (positive and negative) it is too late, and I figure someone else is doing it. Wow. We have two fantastic priests who don’t get paid very much..I wonder if they know how much they mean to us. We do have a chance to tell them, especially this week. St. John’s feastday is August 4. I think I'll send them a note.

- Sharon Friedman


Thanks to Sharon. Comments, anyone?

The Parish and the Real World

At our Parish Brunch-and-Meet last Sunday, the discussion of parish finances and stewardship stirred a pot of strong feelings and beliefs. At a time when, frankly, we are not able to meet all the financial goals we have set for ourselves (including our charitable giving, compensation for pastor, and other items), does it make any sense whatsoever to even think about taking on other financial commitments (like contributing to the Chapel's upkeep)?

Applying sound and prudent business principles, one would immediately say, "Good God, NO! - Don't take on additional obligations when you haven't figured out how to meet current ones." I suspect no one would disagree with this in consideration of normal family or business finances. Except that this instinctive response, on closer examination, proves faulty. Families and businesses, in fact, quite regularly take on additional obligations. Family examples might include spending for medical expenses, or for unforeseen home repairs, or for emergency travel, or for tithing to one's church. Business examples include costs of expanding the business in a down year ("You must spend money to make money"), capitalizing on unforeseen opportunities requiring up-front investment, or bolstering an underperforming subsidiary.

In all these cases, prudent management often condones deficit spending (and I haven't even mentioned the government!). But there is still a more subtle reason for considering such commitments by a parish community.

One of the tenets of stewardship has been the principle of "sacrificial giving." What this means is that I am called upon to offer support for my community from my substance, rather than from my excess. In other words, I don't wait to see what's left over for the church; I find some prudent way to give from my substance, and this may mean that I have to tighten the belt in other ways. That is, the church becomes a primary, rather than an optional, recipient of my giving.

In a similar way, without violating prudent budgeting and financial management, it is a calling for every church community to think outside the box (pardon the tired cliche) - to go beyond the normal bounds of family or business operations when we envision commitments that are suggested for our consideration. Does the suggested commitment really have a close bearing on our authentic Christian witness, on our sense of identity as a parish? Would its neglect do damage to that authenticity? In other words, if we never make contributions to the needs of our greater community, if we never do charitable giving, hasn't this affected our claim to authenticity as a Gospel community? Would it not be better to begin to actually make such a commitment, thereby forcing ourselves to come to terms with what it requires, rather than simply to say, "We can't afford it now; maybe sometime in the future"?

Making public commitments requires a parish to take a fundamental stance. If it results in interim deficit financing, then the leadership has an obligation to contend with this so as to avoid shortfalls. It is simply not sufficient to avoid the commitments arising out of authentic mission on the grounds of financial wherewithal. Making the commitment will tend to generate the wherewithal.

Some will dismiss this reasoning as irresponsible, and others will decry its lack of "real world" awareness. But some may find value in a sort of ongoing, forced reckoning with the implications of Christian witness. At a certain point, perhaps we become more conditioned to replace "either/or" thinking with a "both/and" stance. What do you think?

The Denver Interfaith Council Invites Us

I have been in communication with Rev. John Thompson, who chairs the Denver Interfaith Council at Stapleton, and who invites our membership in the Council. I’m not sure if any of our parishioners have ever taken part in such a group, but I believe this would be a wonderful experience for us.

Years ago, while pastoring in Colorado Springs, I was invited to join the Pikes Peak Interfaith Council. Over the next six years I was very much involved, including service as President and in other roles. It was a vibrant, focused group, and we spent a great deal of time learning about one another and trying to grow our own hospitality to difference – in beliefs and expression – before tackling the world.

We did tackle local issues where we felt it appropriate to do so. Peace and social justice issues were a substantial theme. Pooling our resources to invite prominent speakers to town was a great tool for our mutual learning and outreach. We tried to steer clear of politics per se, but on issues campaigns, we were a prominent voice (at least, a frequent and for some, an annoying voice).

Our method was interesting: each month we’d meet at a member’s place of worship. One month it was at a Mormon church, the next perhaps at the UCC, and then the Unitarian Universalists, then the Roman Catholic, next the Pagans (we met in a park!), and so on. The host would devote part of the program to a brief introduction/explanation of her/his faith tradition’s worship, with a helpful tour of the worship space. After this, and usually over a lunch, we’d break open our discussion on both agenda topics and new ideas. Usually we’d have 15-20 folks on hand. It developed into a great fellowship, and soon we were leaning on one another for mutual support, fellowship, and fun.

When I returned to Denver, I inquired but found the Denver Interfaith Council to be inactive. That was a great disappointment following the healthy experience in Colorado Springs. And that’s why this new invitation – and the prospect of a good, healthy group here – is so appealing to me.

These are NOT exclusively clergy groups. I am hoping that some folks in our parish might have an interest in attending to check it out. They meet once a month, on the second Wednesday, at Johnson and Wales University in the President's Boardroom in the student union building. Quebec Street just north of 17th Avenue. The meeting runs from 9:30 am-11:00 am.
Hope you’ll join me on August 12th.

Thinking Ecumenically

On our parish website, I was adding some elements emphasizing our ecumenical nature, when the light bulb went on: Not everyone knows what the word means! How many really have any sense of the history of the ecumenical movement, in this country or worldwide? It's a rich and inspiring history, but not widely known, even among "ecumenical" folks. Since we as a Communion have chosen to include "Ecumenical" in our name, it's a subject we should all be immersed in.

First, let's clarify: "ecumenical," technically, refers to openness to and dialogue among all Christian faiths, with a view to finding common ground. Beyond the Christian realm, openness and dialogue with other religions has been termed "Interreligious" or "Interfaith." In recent years, however, the first term, "ecumenical," has been more commonly used to refer to any and every sort of reaching out, hospitality, encounter and dialogue among religions, and this is the broader sense that our Ecumenical Catholic Communion wishes to champion.

I did write a piece on the meaning of the term, and linked it on the About Us page (please have a look). But I'm still reflecting, and remembering - when was the first time I heard of "ecumenical"? I believe it was in the early 70's, when the religious world was still brimming with the excitement of Vatican II. Churches had really begun to talk with one another, and to look for common ground. Now, to be sure, some churches were vigorously going the opposite way - refusing such discussions, insisting on their own primacy or authenticity while discounting the legitimacy of other bodies. But the World Council of Churches was by then about 25 years old, and it was moving steadfastly in the direction of cooperation, collaboration and dialogue. I have always felt the Holy Spirit was behind this, for the movement had overcome so many obstacles to that dialogue.

I had been a young Jesuit seminarian at the time of the Second Vatican Council. What a heady, exciting time for the church (not to mention a fledgling seminarian). The winds of change were transporting many of us toward new ways of thinking about "the other" - you know, those other people who belong to different churches, the ones we'd been raised to think were going to hell. Suddenly we were asked to consider what we might learn from them, to imagine that they were our sisters and brothers in faith. They spoke "a different language" of faith and theology, of belief and practice - but they were seeking God just as devoutly, as passionately, as we were.

Make no mistake - we have a long, long way to go. Some religionists still proclaim theirs is the only way, and some even chant "death to the infidels." But the worldwide ecumenical movement has made wonderful, important strides. The case has been made for respect, tolerance and cooperation. What remains is to see who really cares. Who will commit to advancing the cause in their own lives, in their own churches and communities? Will we?

At St. A's I hope we will begin to chart a course that involves us more concretely in the ecumenical movement. I'm suggesting a number of activities we might consider, and I would sure love to hear from one and all about your own feelings and opinions on the subject. Here are some initial suggestions for how we can become more ecumenical in our actions as well as our words:

Regularly inviting representatives of other faith groups – Christian, Jews, Muslim, Buddhists and others to offer prayers and presentations for our learning and the opening of our minds and hearts and spirits.

Recognizing the holy days of other religions by explicit mention within our celebrations of eucharist, and in our newsletters and other communications.

Exploring ecumenical topics in book groups or movie clubs.

Appointing delegates to local interfaith groups.

Seeking to partner with other faith groups in projects for social justice.

Creating special ecumenical prayers and distributing to our members.

Offering support – physical presence, labor, prayer, etc – whenever another faith group or congregation is the object of defamation, vandalism or violence.

Best and blessings to you.

The Parish and the Web

Today St. Augustine's launches its long-awaited Website. I hope you'll visit it, at: http://www.staugustine-ecc.org/

Many, many parish members were involved in brainstorming the website over several years. We were blessed with a handful of technical wizards as well as with the creative types, imagining layouts and colors and such. And yet, for all our enthusiasm, we lagged, and the project languished.

Then we received a robust kick in the pants, primarily from our Parish Council leaders, who said in one voice: "Get off the pot." And at that time, Bill Hanzel (Holy Family parish) appeared from the ether and offered his services to us. Bill is the ECC Webmaster and has created websites for a number of our sister parishes. In fairness, he'd been doggedly offering to help us for well over a year. But he reappeared and this time, we bit.

Please let us know what you think of the website. Suggestions are HEARTILY welcomed. Any offerings, grand or modest, are eagerly sought.

We are, after all, in the 21st century. Thus the website. Thus this blog. Thus all the marvelous contraptions and devices reputed to "simplify" our lives. But in the end, none of it matters a whit, if it doesn't truly, in a genuine and enduring way, help to draw us closer to one another.

Thanks to Bill Hanzel and all those in the parish who lent creative hands to this work.

Blessings, one and all.

Reflecting on The Retreat

I have had several days to reflect on the ECC Retreat in Estes Park. My impressions are many and varied, which is as it should be, given the wonderfully diverse and incredibly gifted bunch of people who attended. Eighty-some in all, from around the country. How good to see friends, and good to make new ones. The conversations, both in the formal sessions and around the tables at meal time, were in earnest, interesting, funny, serious, provoking - a very heady stew.

The prayer sessions (Morning and Evening Prayer each day, in addition to Eucharist) were a great mix of style and content. Each was warmly evocative of the Spirit, perfect beginnings and endings for our time together. St. Augustine's had the honor of presenting Morning Prayer for Thursday. Ours was a simple format, taken right out of the Liturgy of the Hours. In comparison to some of the other services, it was nearly austere, and yet I think each of the services provided a nice contrast with the others, and all of them together afforded a sweep of liturgical possibilities. We began and ended our prayer in song, with able assist from the guitar and voice of Fr. Len Shreiner.

Fr. Bjorn Marcussen, whom I first met 6 or 7 years ago, was a very inspiring presenter. He had lots of material, and the first session in particular was heavy with background info, but that was necessary. By the end of the second session, I think most could see that he was taking us on a journey, helping us to travel around all the many implications of this thing we call Independent Catholicism. He helped us with questions of identity, community, faith, and the call to love. He is truly a great person, and I'm delighted to be invited to share a continuing conversation with him.

Estes Park was, of course, beautiful and summer-delightful. The YMCA Camp proved itself once again as a perfect spot for such a gathering. We mingled with many other groups - the numbers became obvious at mealtime in the vast cafeteria (but the waits in chow line are never too long, thank God).

It took an incredible amount of work to put it all together, and our thanks and admiration are due to the members of the Regional Council, including Laura Strom and Fr. Stan, and our Vicar, Fr. Scott Jenkins. They've done good.

The ECC Goes on Retreat

It really is quite something, when a small but nationwide Communion such as ours deigns to "get together." The planning is like that of any large organization, with all the myriad details and logistical provisions to consider, except that ours is essentially an all-volunteer effort. A Program Committee assignment can become an additional, and increasingly preoccupying, vocation. Even once the most important elements of the program are settled (the major speakers, the themes, the setting), still there are so very many unsettling, unforeseen, unforgiving glitches that must be, somehow, anticipated, or at least, dealt with.

Our ECC Retreat, this year in Estes Park, begins tomorrow. We apparently have about 85 registrants from around the country. In one way, that number is heartening, especially amidst a grim economic crisis. Even with registration fees set at a minimum, who can afford travel and lodging? Still, it is a bit discouraging to note that, for example, only three people from California will be present (and one of them is Bishop Peter!). No one from Florida is attending, including the Chair of the House of Pastors, Fr. Steve. What is the old saying - everyone who's supposed to be here, is here? That may be a self-serving salve; it should not prevent us from looking into the question: Why, all things considered, are they not here? Not a criticism; a question.

St. Augustine's will present Morning Prayer on Thursday, June 25th. We are offering the text designated for the day straight out of the Liturgy of the Hours. Why not a "special text," with "specially selected psalms and musical settings arranged thematically for our Retreat"? Because, especially given that many of our members have never been exposed to the actual Liturgy of the Hours, in the elaborate, four-volume format, this may be a splendid opportunity for sharing another, more ancient and venerable, way of praying in community. We'll recite the psalms and canticles antiphonally. We'll indulge silence. We'll let the texts speak for themselves. That's the plan. It will be interesting to see how this "low" approach to Morning Prayer is received.

I'll post here during the Retreat. Looking forward to your comments, and wishing blessings on your day!

Healing Body, Mind, and Spirit

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Job, poor Job.
Wretched, grieving, despondent, and
very, very sick old Job.
You know the story.

Why did he have to suffer?
Why did his innocent family have to suffer, and die?

Why must anyone suffer and die?

In the Old Testament, there are
a number of stories of miraculous healing.
Remember Elijah bringing the widow’s dead son
back to life.

Elisha raises the Shunammite’s son from the dead.
Naaman and Uzziah and others are cured of leprosy.

The Old Testament has a lush,
rich lore of healing
miracle stories.

It is interesting for us to ask,
did the people of Israel, knowing these stories
from their Scriptures handed down,
did they believe in healing by the power of God?

Bear in mind
that the stories are often accompanied
by expressions of amazement, even disbelief,
among the onlookers.

It seems it wasn’t automatic
that people would believe in
healing miracles,
or miracles of any sort!

Even in that time of superstition and
mythic tales and
fantastical folk beliefs
it was so much, maybe too much
to believe that God would reach down
and heal a sick one,
and harder by far to believe that
a fellow tribesman, even an elder,
or a shaman,
could cure miraculously.

And hard it was to believe in Jesus’ day, too.
The New Testament stories of miracle healings
are SO numerous that it simply astonishes us
to consider the list:
 
The Gospel stories tell us that
Jesus had the power to heal, to cure,
to give sight to the blind,
to make the lame walk again,
to restore hearing,
to heal the worst, raging diseases
and yes, to beat death.

Like Elijah and Elisha,
so too, Jesus raised the dead.
And then he gave this power to
his disciples,
and in the Acts of the Apostles,
we see them performing
some of the same miracle cures.

All these miraculous healings.
And did the people around them
– most of the people? – believe?
That God was doing the healing?

Let’s just say the skepticism has
been very, very strong,
all the way down through the centuries.

For example:
Do YOU believe in healing miracles?

Enough to pray for them,
in your own life?

Enough to EXPECT them?

Or do you consider them a sort of
quaint, old, anachronistic belief,
a kind of make-believe?

Do you inwardly doubt –
not so much perhaps,
that God could,
but rather, that God would
reach out, reach down, enter into our world –

this world of physical imperfection,
and disease, and injury, and decay,
and decline –
that God would come here and fix . . . .
you?


Watch TV – the religion channels.
You’ll see faith healers working their “miracles”
one after the other,
people shuffling and limping onto the stage,
the preacher laying hands on them,
sometimes roughly,
and calling on God – shouting for God
to do what God has promised –
to heal the one with faith.

And maybe the person suddenly SPRINGS
to new life, proclaiming her faith,
and walking merrily away.

And you, and I, maybe
will roll our eyes, and shake our heads
at the spectacle of fraud
which seems to be taking in
all the tearful chanting rubes in the audience.

But, why shouldn’t they believe,
as those who witnessed Jesus’ miracles believed?
As the widow believed Elisha?
After all, the modern televangelist is doing
this ministry in the name of Jesus,
and claiming empowerment by him,
by his Gospel, by his own words.

How is Benny Hinn different from
Peter or Paul
or the other disciples of Christ
sent out to perform a healing ministry?

We really don’t know what to make of it, do we?
What’s real, what’s not?

IS God doing healings, ever?

Or is the universe God created
simply moving along at its own created pace,
including the decay and eventual death of
every living being?

Another way of asking this is simply:
Does God care?
Does God get involved?
Is God really listening to our prayers?

People suffer. People are in pain.
People die.

We wanted a miracle, and it didn’t happen.
IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.
WHERE IS OUR MIRACLE, GOD??!!

And we wonder – did we not have enough faith?
Is it like the TV Evangelists say,
that you have to have enough faith,
or it won’t work?

I wonder:
Why do we fail to notice
that there has been healing going on
all around us,
all along?

In Jesus’ day,
the practice of “medicine”
was barely worth the name.
 
Yet down through the ages,
steadily, bit by bit,
science and knowledge and skill,
and now, technology,

has advanced so far,
that we do not see the countless
miracles taking place
every day,
in every hospital in the world.

People who would have died,
don’t.

We all live longer than ever any civilization
could have dreamed.

People, many thousands of people,
are actually cured, really cured,
of diseases.

Doctors and nurses, pharmacists and therapists,
social workers and chaplains,
professionals dedicated to healing body and mind and spirit
go about their work every day.

Not on the televangelists’ stage,
but in the operating theatre,
at the bedside, in the clinics,
in the counselor’s safe office,
at the pharmacy counter.

There is such incredible healing
every day.

And we don’t see it.
Even while we ask God,
where have you been?
Still God is intervening, hearing our prayers
and answering them.

Have you ever thought to wonder,
why am I not dead yet?
Have you ever thought to answer,
miracle after miracle after miracle,
courtesy of almighty God.

Have you thought to reckon it this way:
that I don’t know why some people die the way they do,
why others seem to suffer so terribly,
why so live in such horrible poverty and filth and hunger,
why it must be so unbelievably hard for so many
of my sisters and brothers in humanity.
But I desire to be able to desire to desire to be willing to try to attempt
to believe that
God knows what God is doing,
and why the universe, all of it, goes and flows
the way it does.

I am willing to begin to take notice
of prayers answered,
of God’s decisive miracles done,
of the special healing disciples
that God has chosen and given such
remarkable powers to,
these health care professionals.

I am willing to begin seeing,
with eyes willing to see,
with ears willing to hear,
all that God has done
is doing
for us.

God has a plan for me,
and it’s apparently still a work in progress.

So I shall go on noticing
and giving thanks for,
the miracles which make it possible
for me to go about my day,
the best I can,
God willing.

Amen?