Wounded Healers
2 Corinthians 1:1-11February 16, 2014 - Stephen Ministry Sunday
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John Ortberg, a Presbyterian pastor tells this story about Ignacy Jan Paderewski, an acclaimed concert pianist during the first half of the twentieth century. One night he was delayed and late for a concert. The crowd grew restless and a nine-year old boy who was dragged to the concert by his mother became especially bored, so he slipped away and before anyone knew what he was doing he climbed up the stairs and onto the stage, sat down at the piano and started to play the only song he knew – chopsticks. (*Randy – begin to lightly play.)
All of a sudden the people in the auditorium were
buzzing. “Get that kid out of there. What is he doing?” Any mother could
imagine what went through the mind and heart of the boy’s mom as she realized
that the child at the piano was her son.
From the
wings of the stage Paderewski who had just arrived heard what was happening.
Instead of calling for an usher to remove the boy he simply put on his tuxedo
jacket, walked over to the piano, reached his two big arms on either side of
this little boy, and began to play an improvised accompaniment. (*Randy –
embellish chopsticks) Paderewski leaned toward the boy and whispered, “Don’t
quit. Just keep playing. You are doing great. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
[1] (*Randy – stop playing.)
What started out as
ordinary became a masterpiece when the two played together. I believe God wants every one of his children
to know there is a deeper music to their life.
I believe God puts his arms around us and cheers us on and says, “Don’t
quit. Just keep playing. You’re doing
great. Don’t stop. Don’t stop”.Before we turn to scripture let us pray:
Preaching is a unique form of communication in that it attempts to convey divine and eternal truth through very human vessels. It is supposed to be more than someone standing up front sharing their thoughts and feelings and experience. It is supposed to bring a word from the Lord, but no preacher can remove him or herself from the process. Our thoughts and feelings and experience will come through. The question every preacher wrestles with is how much of my own thoughts or feelings or experience should be shared? When does preaching become venting on a psychiatrist’s couch and when do you these very human thoughts and feelings and experiences help to comfort and heal?
When the Apostle Paul begins his second letter to the church he Corinth he has decided he needs to do the latter, because he has heard the criticism from the pews. Some had been grumbling about his first letter to them which was pretty direct about their particular sins and shortcomings. Their lax sexual morality and their divisions over personality and money was a poor witness to the gospel and to the community.
Their response was not confession and repentance? When Paul asked, “Do you want to know what’s wrong with you?” they did not say, “Oh, yes please tell us!” Instead they said, “Who do you think you are to be telling us what to do or how to live?”
Well, Paul told them, “I am an apostle of Jesus Christ, by the will of God.”[2] He has authority to speak to these matters not because he claimed it for himself, but because God called him, which is what the literal meaning of the word apostle. That is the divine part of his mission and his message.
He then moves onto the human part, because sometimes people forget that pastors are people too with the same feelings and vulnerabilities and wounds. He wrote, “We do not want you to be uniform, brothers and sisters about the troubles we experienced in Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.”[3]
Now, we don’t know what exactly happened in Asia because Paul says no more about it, and I’m thinking he says no more about it because the people of Corinth already knew and he is just reminding them.
Now, why is he reminding them? Is he looking for sympathy? Is he inviting them all to a pity party where they can give him a group hug and say “forgive us Paul we didn’t know?”
I don’t think so because Paul tells us why he is sharing this personal experience. “This happened that we might not rely on ourselves, but on God.”[4] He wants them to do the same and that’s why he earlier wrote:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.”[5]
In these 11 verses the word “comfort” appears 10 times. The Greek word behind this is parakakletos. Para meaning, “along side” and kaleo meaning to call. Comfort is given by someone who is called along side to help – like a nurse who answers the patients call button in a hospital room.
This is more than a hallmark card with a sweet sentiment. Comfort is provided here by someone who is willing to show and by someone who understands. That is how suffering can redeemed. It is how wounds can heal.
I saw this first hand in my first church.
Judy and Tom, her live-in boyfriend, moved into
town and next door to my house no less, the town was soon buzzing. Judy and Tom
were a hard-living, hard-drinking couple who didn't seem to care a whit about
the sensibilities of this small, quiet, rural town.
Down at the local diner Judy and Tom were
always a topic of conversation. "Did you hear their party last night? It
went on to all hours. I heard the police
showed up." "Don't they have any shame?" "Did you know they
have a wild raccoon and they keep it in the house?" Down at the local
diner you either talked about Judy and Tom or you talked about the weather.
They were always more interesting.
Then one day it happened. Judy got pregnant.
Over the strong objections of her live-in boyfriend she decided she was going
to carry the child to term. She would have the baby. This was all too much for
Tom who wanted only to get drunk and have a good time. He split and was never
seen again. Judy remained in Hadley.
There was something about that new life growing
within her that prompted new feelings.
She began to think about life in a deeper and more eternal way. Children always make you think long term. She
knew she would be responsible for this little child – a little girl as it
turned out. Whether she would eat or not would be up to her. Whether this child
would grow healthy and strong was up to her...and she was all alone.
But, she was not alone. Her next door neighbor
was the Presbyterian pastor. Her other neighbor was also a member of the
church. She never had a chance. A kind word here, a favor there and an
invitation to come to church were all she really needed.
One Sunday morning she stood before God and me
and the congregation and declared her faith in Jesus Christ. I poured water over her head and said the
words, “I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy
Spirit.” That day she became a disciple
and a member of our congregation. The next morning down at the diner the word
went out, "Judy was Born Again". Now, the Bible tells us that
"all the angels in heaven rejoice whenever there's a soul saved."
But, back on earth it was more of a mixed bag.
On the subject of Judy's baptism, the community
and the Church were pretty much divided. Some were rejoicing at the
"Amazing Grace that saved a wretch" like Judy. Some were rejoicing
that "one who was lost now was found, one who was blind now could
see". They greeted Judy after the service and offered to help her with the
baby and such. They organized a baby shower. They made her one of their own.
Others were not so warm. In fact, some were
downright cold to the idea that Judy should be so welcomed into the church.
They were frosty to the idea that they were expected to just forgive her
“hard-living” and “hard-drinking” days.
They could not forget the past.
Chief among the critics was a young mother
named Karen. Karen was young and attractive and had lived in Hadley from the day
she was born. She had come from a respectable family. She was married to a
respectable, hard-working man. They had two beautiful little girls, and they
lived in a nice house. She had been baptized in the church, had grown up in the
church, and she and her husband were married in the church.
She just couldn't go along with the idea that
she should be expected to forget about all the things that Judy had done just
because she had asked Jesus to forgive her. It just didn't seem fair. What it
meant to her was that Judy was now seen as being just as good as she was even
though she had lived such a respectable life and Judy's life had been no good.
Karen thought there should be a better accounting for what Judy had done.
This question of proper accounting for sins was
one that was often brought to Jesus’ attention. For most had understood life in
a kind of zero-sum fashion. "You get what you deserve, you reap what you
sow. You will be rewarded for good deeds
and punished for bad."
Suddenly and without explanation, Karen's
husband— Karen's hard-working respectable husband quit his job and ran off with
a woman who hustled drinks at the local bar. He just left and moved in with
her. No warning was given that anything was even wrong with their marriage;
much less that he might take such desperate action.
Karen's world collapsed. There were financial
difficulties and emotional dives. Everything she had counted on was pulled from
beneath her feet. Everything she believed in was challenged. She had lived by
the rules and expectations of others and they, or I should say, he, had let her
down.
And what was worse, Karen, knowing how small
Hadley was, understood that she, not Judy, was now the topic of conversation
down at the local diner. "Did you hear what happened...yeah, he ran off
with another woman....I wonder why....I wonder what she did to drive him away…I
wonder what was really going on?" And since she was always so concerned
about what other people thought of her, that small-town gossip tore her apart.
She withdrew into a shell. She left the house only for groceries. She built a wall around herself that neither
family nor friends nor I, as her pastor, could penetrate. Her face became
granite that held back the tears. Like the living dead she moved about, unfeeling.
No one could touch her, could reach her again.
Family and friends and pastor were worried.
Would she do something crazy? Would she do something desperate? Who could reach
her?
Someone finally did. Someone reached Karen.
Someone chiseled a crack in the granite so the tears could flow—someone, who
understood what it felt like to have a man run out on her, someone who
understood the pressures of taking care of a child all alone.
One day Judy summoned up the courage to knock
on the door of her harshest critic and offered a shoulder to cry on. Amazingly,
Karen opened the door and let Judy in. I have no idea what they talked about,
but, they talked a lot. They cried a lot. They hugged a lot. After the granite
had been chiseled away and all the tears had been released, when Karen was
ready to rejoin the land of the living, she did so because Judy was at her
side.
Judy and
Karen became fast friends. They were from different sides of the tracks. Their
lives were as different as night from day. They had nothing in common except
pain. Both had experienced the desperate lonely feeling that follows when you
have been abandoned.
This hard-living, hard-drinking unwed mother
had shown Karen mercy and so revealed to her the grace of God. Now, Karen knew
that she needed God and that she needed God desperately. Karen knew that Judy,
for all of her mistakes, was just as good as she. Karen understood for the
first time that we all need a little grace.
Judy was a minister of Jesus Christ, every bit
as much as I, her pastor because she could share the pain and extend the grace.
She was every bit as much a minister as I because she, more than any other
member of that church, knew we all need a little grace.
There is a happy ending to this story. Karen's
husband did come to his senses and did come back. I don't know if Karen would
have taken him back, would have shown him mercy, if it hadn't been for
Judy. Karen had learned, “Blessed are
the merciful for they shall obtain mercy.”
As for Judy, I lost track of her. I moved away.
She moved away. Then one day, about ten years later, she called me up, out of
the blue. She had tracked me down somehow. She said she just wanted me to know
that everything was alright. A wonderful Christian man had asked her to marry
him. Her baby was growing up and she had two more. She was teaching Sunday
school and was part of a small group Bible Study.
She just wanted to thank me for the grace. She
had not forgotten the hard-drinking, hard- living days. She had not forgotten
the desperate feelings of being left alone with a child. But, she was alright
now, and every day thanked God for his amazing grace in her life. She was
trying to live a life of grace, because she said, "We all need a little
grace."
Today is Stephen Ministry Sunday and the sum
total of this ministry is to comfort, “to walk along side” someone who needs to
know that someone else will be there and someone else will care. Stephen
Ministers say, “Don’t
quit. Just keep playing. You are doing great. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
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