Please Release Me 2

A sermon preached at Old South Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Hallowell, Maine, August 26, 2007.

Text:  Luke 13:10-17             The Rev. Susan Maxwell Reisert,  Minister

Sermon prayer:

            When we gather for worship, we usually hear or are reminded, in some form or another, of things that we can do and ought to do better.  We ought to follow the lessons taught in the Bible more closely.  We ought to be more faithful.  We could be more compassionate.  We could be more forgiving.  We ought to be more vigilant in pursuing God’s justice.  We could be more hopeful.  We could be more joyful.  We ought to be more trusting.  We could be nicer, gentler and kinder.  We ought to pray more often.  We ought to share the Good News more freely.  We could do better at helping each other and ourselves in following God’s call and meeting God’s expectations.  We ought to serve on more church committees, teach Sunday School, participate in Adult Education and give more to the annual stewardship campaign.

            We could and ought to do better at being good Christians;  that is for sure.  Regular reminders of what we could do better are certainly a vital key to our faith development.  But, today, we focus on a passage that offers something a little different.  Certainly, there is the angle of the story  that encourages us to consider carefully the rules we have for how we treat people.  Jesus indicates to the leader of the synagogue that he is actually wrong to think that God frowns on healing people on the Sabbath.  Focusing on such an angle would surely be instructive and significant, but for right now, I would like us to consider this story from the perspective of the woman, the bent over, unnamed woman.

            Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath.  While he was teaching, a woman appeared.  She was bent over and unable to stand up straight.  She had been afflicted by a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen long years.  It is uncertain what kind of spirit had crippled her, had warped her frame in such a way that she could no longer even stand up straight.  But it is not so difficult to imagine what kind of spirit, what kind of experience, what kind of illness or string of illnesses, what kind of care or worry, could have done that to her.  Perhaps the demands of her life had weighed her down, had taken their toll on her-- inside and out.  Perhaps the burdens which she carried had clung to her for so very long that she could no longer carry them without struggling physically, spiritually, and emotionally to such an extent that her frame could no longer bear them without bending over in compliance.  Perhaps one thing led to another and the more bent over she became, the more difficult it was for her to fight against the forces which weighed her down and took hold of her entire being.

            I suspect that most of us have at least some inkling of what it is like to be in this woman’s shoes.  Most of us have lived through times, either personally or through our relationships with others, when the burdens put upon us seem too heavy to bear.  Most of us know what it is like to begin to feel as though our spirits are so broken that our physical bodies will begin to bend as well.  Most of us have some idea of what it is like to be so overwhelmed that we cannot see what’s ahead of us because all we can see is the ground beneath our feet.

            Most of us, I suspect, have some clue that would help us to understand the plight of this woman in the story that we read this morning from the Gospel of Luke.  As bent over as she was, however, she still went to the synagogue.  For what reason, it is not made clear.  Maybe she went simply because she knew she ought to or maybe she thought that she would continue to try to find some way out of her predicament, some way through which she would see the light that would lead her out of the darkness.  Maybe it is where she always went, by force of habit or in the rhythm of her life.

            And in that synagogue, she encountered Jesus who was teaching there.  What is most interesting about this story is that Jesus sees her first.   The woman does not approach him and ask for anything, she does not demand or plead for Jesus to heal her.  She has simply gone to the synagogue and finds herself in the presence of Jesus, whom she may or may not have known or heard of.

            Jesus sees her, calls over to her, and says to her, “Woman you are set free from your ailment.”  He lays his hands on her, and immediately she stands up straight and begins praising God.  Maybe this was a true miracle that only Jesus could have performed or maybe all this woman needed was to be recognized and to be touched, to make some deep, indescribable connection with another.  Maybe all this woman needed was to experience that release that comes when you are approached and another recognizes the burdens that are weighing you down.  Maybe all this woman needed was to be in the loving presence of the One, the only One who could set her free.  This woman encountered Jesus and he set her free from her ailment.  Instead of pushing him away or being skeptical of his dramatic statement concerning the possibility of her freedom, the woman accepted what Jesus had to offer and she was set free from her ailment, she was released from the bondage which had wreaked complete havoc on her life and on her spirit.

            All she did was to put herself in his presence and accepted the opportunity for transformation that he offered.  She didn’t ask for anything, but she received so much out of the abundant generosity of the One who came to share in our flesh and to show us the way.  Part of the message is certainly about the abundant and steadfast love and generosity of Jesus Christ. 

            Another part of the story is about the power of the laying on of hands.  The healing that this woman needed was not something that could be done completely if it had been done at a distance.  Touching her was a vital element in Jesus’ attempt to heal her.  As someone who values my space, this is perhaps the most uncomfortable aspect of this story.  When  someone whom I do not know tries to touch me I am more apt to scream.  The way in which the story is told, however, underscores the significance of touch, of physical connection.  This is not to say that all touching should be welcomed.  But, whether we are on the giving or receiving end, touching is a basic element of healing.  Touching is a vital key to our lives in this community of faith.

            In addition, we must not ignore the part of the story where the woman responds, in turn,  by praising God.  We must not ignore the part of the story where the transformation is brought forth because I think that there is a clue here about what God receives out of the abundant love that is offered and accepted.

            When we are burdened so heavily by the world around us that we begin to bend and twist under the demands, we cannot participate in the building of God’s kingdom in this place.  When we are so overwhelmed that we cannot see in front of us because all we can do is see the ground underneath our feet, we cannot pursue God’s justice as fully and joyfully as God intends.  We cannot be as compassionate or forgiving or generous or faithful as God expects for us when we are weighed down.  We cannot spread the Good News as freely or as joyfully, when we are continually bound by forces beyond our control.

            So, in the infinite love of God shown so dramatically time and time again through Jesus Christ, we discover the offering of the opportunity for transformation, for our burdens to be lifted and for our perspectives to be altered.  All of our difficulties may not vanish.  All of our illnesses, all of our frustrations, all of our  tragedies, may not disappear.  But, we have the opportunity to be set free, to be released from those things that ail us.  We have the opportunity to see these difficulties from a different vantage point-- a vantage point which casts them in a light which diminishes their damaging influence and hold on us. 

            I cannot imagine that the woman in the story left the synagogue and found the rest of her life to be trouble-free.  That kind of promise is never made.  The promise that is made is one which allows us the opportunity to be set free from those burdens, to be released from our troubles in such a way that they don’t really trouble us like they used to.  The opportunity is one which offers us a new way of understanding how we live in this troubled world-- a way through which we know that we are not alone, that we do not have to carry our burdens by ourselves.  This is an opportunity and an offering which we do not even have to ask for.  It is a gift freely and graciously given.  It is offered whenever we bring ourselves into God’s presence.

            As we gather together as individuals and as a community, and bring ourselves into the presence of Christ, may we be mindful of the gift that is so freely offered.  Touch me, O Christ, so that I may be healed and so that I may participate in the healing of others.  Please release me, O God, and may we be so bold, or perhaps so naive, to allow ourselves to be released, to lift up our eyes and to see the realities of wholeness and life.  May we be released and set free, set free to offer our praise as we never have before.  Praise be to God.  Amen.