06 June 2010

1 Kings 17:17-24
Psalm 30
Galatians 1:11-24
Luke 7:11-17

Our Gospel story for this morning begins with the words, “Soon afterwards.” A strange way to begin anything . . . unless it’s not the beginning of the story – which in this case happens to be true. What we just heard is the second part of a larger piece – a larger piece whose first section tells the story of a Roman centurion whose beloved male servant (and yes, you, the audience of this tale are supposed to raise an eyebrow) is near death. Having heard of Jesus, the extraordinary Jewish healer, this centurion sends messengers to Jesus begging Jesus to heal the centurion’s beloved one. Now the centurion knows that Jesus, as a Hebrew, is certain to be less than approving of a pagan soldier, part of the army of occupation who no doubt could easily be implicated in the deaths of the Hebrew people, and one who engages in that sexual practice that the religious of the land loathe and rail against. So the centurion directs his messengers to say to Jesus: “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and let my servant be healed.” And at that and just like that, the centurion’s beloved is healed. More raised eyebrows. How can this be? Next thing you know, Jesus is going to tell his followers to love all those one finds repugnant, even enemies of the people – even enemies of the earth, even British Petroleum executives. A bit much wouldn’t you say? How unseemly, how very, very unseemly.

And then it’s on the road again, and Jesus and his companions approach the town of Nain and there, outside the city gates, a funeral procession. Something to steer clear of – if Jesus and his followers go near the dead body, if they go near those who accompany the dead body, they will have defiled themselves. So says Scripture. To top it all off, this is no ordinary funeral, rather the funeral of the only son of a widow, and widows’ children being orphans – well – these are all folks at the margins – people without social standing, people who are a drain on the system. More than enough reason for avoidance. And then we hear in the English translation of Luke that “The Lord . . . had compassion” for the grieving widow. But the Greek word that’s translated as compassion – it’s far less refined – and so in English we miss something . . . significant. A better translation might be that “The Lord, when he saw her, his very bowels churned.” The Lord’s guts were in agony – the sight before him was like a sucker punch to the stomach. The sight of this poor widow about to bury her only and orphan son was so agonizing to him that Jesus felt like throwing up.

Oh really. Get a grip Jesus. First – for males to have such feelings – well, it’s just plain wrong. It’s – womanly. But if a male does have such feelings – well – he does all in his power to stuff them, and if he doesn’t have mastery over his emotions as he should have – well at least he needs to hide them. For Jesus to have and show such an emotional reaction – it marks Jesus as a sissy. And to display such emotion for this woman without any standing – an outcast – that just makes it all the worse. Nor does it end there – Jesus walks right up to the plank carrying the dead body and touches it. Well – there you go – Jesus isn’t going to be let into the city any time soon – much less is he going to be able to go into a house of prayer. Some leader he is. And then – still touching the plank upon which the dead body lies, Jesus says the word – and restores life to the orphan and gives him to his mother. Now, breaking the rules to help out someone upstanding and deserving is one thing – but to shame one’s self for a nobody? – well, it’s like weeping for an illegal immigrant, like breaking the law to provide sanctuary for an illegal immigrant and her family. Then Luke, the playwright of this Gospel, finishes this act with a bit of scene direction – the onlookers, the chorus in this production, are to be filled with fear as they exclaim: “Look! God has paid a visit of great concern on the people!”

You bet the people are filled with fear – God is supposed to stay neatly tucked away, trotted out once a week for the good people, the people who know how to follow rules, guidelines, procedures, constitutions, and by-laws. But now, how terrible and terrifying a thing it is: a God who won’t stick to the rules – you know, rules like ‘reward the good and punish the bad.’ OK – on occasion, it may be permissible, just maybe, that God would bend a bit and show favor to your garden variety sinner . . . but a God who has compassion for rank, blatant, rich, unrepentant, enemy sinners like the centurion . . . where is it all going to end? God loving management???? Clearly, God is just plain out of control. And you know that both the written and unwritten rules tell us that the widow is suffering because she did something she wasn’t supposed to, broke some law or another – and for God from God, true God from true God to show base, unseemly, sissified emotion over a nobody – for God to disregard the Bible and to be defiled by touching death . . . and to raise up, not someone who was an important leader, the offspring of an important leader, but a nobody . . . . this is no way for a mere mortal to live, let alone for God to live. This must be stopped and stamped out before it spreads.

Ah, but here and there, by some alien Spirit, some Spirit from outside ourselves, it has spread. And so two millennia later, rank, unrepentant sinners like me and you, and with me and you, continue to stand alongside the centurion and beg, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” And in an instant, in the twinkling of an eye, the Word, that is to say, the Christ who is God from God, comes into our midst in, with, and under homely bread and wine to enter into our very bodies to become one with us, that we, in the unseemly compassion of our God, be healed and raised from the deadly ways of this world to new life in Christ, as Christ. And raised with Christ, we ourselves now go out, our guts churning with sissified emotion, to love and to do good – not only for poor widows and orphans and rule-breaking immigrants, but also, to have compassion for those whom the rules say should not be looked upon with compassion. Yes, we, raised with Christ, go out – to pray for, to have compassion upon, and, defiling ourselves, to touch with love even the executives of British Petroleum.

God, but it’s an awful and awe-filling thing to be healed and raised with Christ, isn’t it?