The Church of St.
Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
May 26, 2019
Acts 16:9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21:10,
22-22:5
John 14:23-29
The Gift of the Spirit for Troubled Hearts
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
I
recently read a book by Kate Bowler, who teaches at Duke Divinity School and is
a scholar of what’s known as the Prosperity Gospel.
The
Prosperity Gospel is a particularly American twist on Christianity that is
preached in many churches across our land as well as on our TV sets. And, yes, I
know that some of our own parishioners come here for real-life church but also
tune into some of the Prosperity Gospel preachers on TV.
Those
prosperity preachers teach that God is ready and willing to shower every
material blessing upon us, if only we believe the right things, live the right
way, pray hard enough, and, yes, give very generously to their church.
They
often hold themselves up as evidence that what they’re preaching really works –
and if they can do it then we too can have a mansion and a jet and gleaming
white teeth and remarkably tight and unlined skin.
Obviously,
I’m not a fan of this particular theology.
But,
as someone who leads a church that draws only about 100 or so people on a
typical Sunday while most of the prosperity preachers draw thousands and
thousands of people, some humility is probably a good idea, as usual.
Anyway,
Kate Bowler is a scholar who has studied and written about the Prosperity
Gospel, but the book of hers I read isn’t scholarly at all.
No,
it’s an incredibly powerful and moving memoir and reflection called, Everything Happens for a Reason and Other
Lies I’ve Loved.
A few years ago,
back in 2015, Kate Bowler’s life seemed to be going along just fine. She was
married to the man she had loved since they were teenagers.
They had just had
their first child, a healthy and happy little boy.
She had a good job
teaching at Duke.
But then, at the
age of 35, Kate Bowler began experiencing excruciating pain.
It took the doctors
some time to figure out what was going on with this seemingly healthy young
woman, but eventually they determined that she was suffering from Stage IV
cancer and the prognosis was very bleak indeed.
Suddenly
Kate’s whole life was upended and she had to face the likelihood that she had
very little time left – very little time with her husband and young son – very little
time for her career – very little time for all the simple yet profound
pleasures of life.
As
you’d guess, this scholar and teacher of religion has a lot of Christian
friends and acquaintances.
Some of the
Prosperity Gospel people said the kinds of things that people – maybe even some
of us – sometimes say in situations like this. They said her faith was being
tested. They said her suffering was part of God’s mysterious plan, and that,
yes, everything happens for a reason.
But, they also
kicked their praying into overdrive, absolutely convinced that the right amount
and the right kind of prayer would convince God to beat back the cancer threatening
Kate’s life.
Others among her
friends also prayed for her, of course, but they also offered the gifts of
presence – just being with her and holding her hand – and also the gift of
solidarity, saying out loud that what was happening to Kate was horrible,
unfair, and terrifying.
In her book, she
reports something surprising – that in the midst of all of this terror, all of
the meetings with doctors, all of the painful treatments, all of the difficult
conversations with family, in the midst of preparing for death, she somehow
felt an odd sense of peace – she felt God’s presence with her during the worst
days of her life.
She writes, “At a
time when I should have felt like I was abandoned by God, I was not reduced to
ashes. I felt like I was floating, floating on the love and prayers of all
those who hummed around me like worker bees, bringing notes and flowers and
warm socks and quilts embroidered with words of encouragement. They came in
like priests and mirrored back to me the face of Jesus.”
Four years later, Kate
Bowler still has her cancer, but thanks to experimental treatments and, I have
no doubt, the power of the prayers that continue to surround her, Kate Bowler
is still alive and working, living from one doctor’s appointment to the next.
Pretty amazing,
right?
But, it’s that
sense of peace for a troubled heart that I find most amazing of all – and it’s
what I keep thinking about.
And, I think that
peace is the gift of the Holy Spirit that Jesus speaks about in today’s lesson
from the Gospel of John.
The setting is the
Last Supper and the disciples are understandably upset that Jesus is leaving
them – their hearts are so very troubled that Jesus will die, seemingly
abandoning them to an uncertain and frightening fate.
But, Jesus
promises that God the Father will send the gift of the Holy Spirit – the Holy
Sprit who will teach, but maybe most of all, the Holy Spirit who reminds us of
God’s presence even when everything seems to be going wrong, even when our
world is turned upside-down.
Jesus says, “Peace
I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world
gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
In two weeks, on
the great feast of Pentecost, we’ll officially celebrate the gift of the Holy
Spirit with a big service and by wearing red and by enjoying a barbecue picnic,
but we don’t have to wait until June 9 for the Holy Spirit.
That gift of peace is available to us,
especially when our hearts are troubled.
When I was reading
Kate Bowler’s beautiful little book, I couldn’t help but think of the many
people I’ve encountered past and present who have faced sudden and terrible
events: a broken relationship, a lost job, a bad choice, a grim diagnosis, the
death of one we love.
Around here lately
we’ve had quite a few people going through those kinds of difficult times and
my hope is that we are the kind of community that doesn’t offer easy words but
is willing to really enter into the suffering others, to be there side by side,
lamenting the sadness and unfairness of it all but promising to hold on no
matter what.
That’s what I hope
we are and I am, but, honestly, it’s a lot.
Don’t get me wrong,
I’m certainly not complaining.
I knew what I
signed up for and feel very much blessed to be here and do this work.
But it does take a
toll.
So, lately, I’ve
been a little bit in the dumps, feeling sad about how much suffering is going
on right here in our own church, feeling disgusted and frightened about what’s
going on in Washington, feeling frustrated by the many buildings and grounds
issues we face on our aging property, increasingly aware of my own aging,
discouraged by the slow bureaucracy of the church, and on and on.
I’ve felt a little
bit like one of those cartoon characters that has a cloud following them
wherever I go.
Anyway, the other
afternoon I was driving home after yet another meeting, feeling grumpy and generally
dissatisfied.
I turned down a
side street and, sure enough, had to stop behind a school bus, with its lights
flashing and little stop sign extended.
Ugh.
I don’t remember
exactly, but I bet I was tapping my finger on the steering wheel, probably
mumbling something like, “Oh, come on, come on, come on already…”
But then, a little
boy came off the bus.
He was about eight
years old, I think.
He was obviously
disabled, just barely able to walk on his own, slowly and awkwardly.
He took those few
steps with determination, making his way from the bus to the curb where a woman
who seemed to be his grandmother was waiting for him.
When he finally reached
the curb, he broke into this huge smile and his grandmother broke into this
huge smile and he just about threw himself into her arms and they embraced and
they laughed and she bathed his head with loving kisses.
Their joy - it was
like he had just returned from a long, long journey rather than just a day at
school.
I have to tell you
that their love nearly knocked me back in my seat, nearly blinded me with its
brightness.
And now, instead
of impatiently tapping my steering wheel, I was wiping away tears, and I felt a
sense of love and peace like I hadn’t felt in weeks.
So, no, I don’t
think that everything happens for a reason, but I do know that, especially when
our hearts are troubled, God sends us the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Alleluia! Christ
is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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