Sermon #11@ St. Paris UMC (9.6.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Mark 7:24-37

Title: “Crumbs From the Table”

Date: Sept. 6, 2009 (14th Sunday after Pentecost)

Internet Link for primary scripture text used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%207:24-37&version=NIV

We’ve been hearing a lot about health care lately.
There are many strong opinions about the pros and cons of the proposals coming out of Washington. There have been and will be impassioned debates, and people of good faith can agree to disagree on these matters.
If I’m not mistaken, that’s the American way.
In fact, I’ll go a step further and say that even though there are many things that we as Christians may not agree about, there is much more that brings us together as one people. Above all, we are one in the Spirit, and we are one in the Lord – and that is something special, in a world that is given over to division and strife.
Even as the health care debate unfolds, we continue to see and hear reports about the H1N1 virus – or “swine flu” as it’s also known. We wait and watch nervously, especially as we send our children and grandchildren off to begin a new school year.
Meanwhile, the day-to-day challenges of maintaining health and wholeness touch all of our lives, and there is seldom any let-up.
Our church’s prayer chain has been busily attesting to this. In the past week alone, we have had prayer requests for at least four persons with cancer, including a 4-year-old boy. In his case, the request was for “healing this side of heaven,” which is always our hope – though it doesn’t always work out that way.
We also had a sad request Friday for a teen-ager named Josie, who remains hospitalized after a horrendous beating by an ex-boyfriend. She is experiencing paralysis. We are reminded again – we live in a broken world.
But friends, there is One who has all power.
He is the source of life – both in the here and now, and in the eternity that lies just beyond.
He is the source of all health – in body, mind and spirit.
He is the source of the boundless hope – and the endless love – that we can experience in our hearts through faith.
His name is Jesus Christ, and He is the Master Physician. And he calls us to be “physician’s assistants” – through our prayers, and our actions.
We see Jesus the healer at work in both parts of today’s gospel lesson.
In the first part, Jesus and his disciples have left their home base in Galilee, and headed north, going near the Phoenician city of Tyre on the Mediterranean coast. Jesus already had done a lot to attract attention back home – whether he wanted it or not. You may remember from last week some Pharisees and teachers of the law had even come from Jerusalem to check him out as word of his teaching and healing spread.
It could be Jesus wanted a chance for him and the disciples to get off by themselves for a while – get a break from the crowds, and recharge their batteries. Mark tells us in v. 24 he found a house to stay at, and he didn’t want anyone to know it. It sounds like he really needed that time apart. But it wasn’t to be. Soon the community was abuzz about the presence of the Jewish teacher from Galilee.
Keep in mind, Jesus and the disciples were on foreign turf. Tyre and the region around it are part of the modern-day nation of Lebanon, and for Jesus and his cohorts, this was definitely a place to be wary. This was pagan country – populated by Gentiles. In other words, these were people who were outsiders – they were not part of God’s covenant relationship with the children of Abraham. As a matter of fact, faithful Jews considered it a point of decency not to associate with Gentiles. (Sort of makes you wonder why Jesus chose Tyre for this getaway trip.)
Even Jesus appears uncomfortable or annoyed – at least at first – when he is approached by one of these Gentiles. To make matters worse, it’s a woman. She was breaking a lot of cultural taboos by approaching Jesus, but she didn’t care. Somehow she had a sense of who Jesus was – and what he could do – and her circumstances were dire.
I’m sure many of you who are mothers can relate. There was something desperately wrong with her little girl. We are told the child was possessed by an evil spirit, and whatever form it takes, evil always seeks to destroy. And in her great need, this mother came and fell at the feet of Jesus. She begged him to do something to drive the presence of evil out of her daughter.
And what a response she gets.
“First let the children eat all they want,” Jesus told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”
Now, this is not exactly the kind of thing we’re used to hearing from Jesus, because frankly the Lord seems to be insulting this woman – because of her Gentile background. When Jesus speaks of letting “the children” eat all they want, he is actually using children as a metaphor for the people of Israel – God’s chosen ones – the focal point of his mission.
Jesus himself is the bread – the sustainer of life – and guess what? He is saying the Canaanites and all the other pagans are no better than a bunch of dogs. Trust me when I say, this was not intended as a compliment.
But the woman is undaunted. If anything, her resolve is steeled because she absolutely believes this man can save her little girl. Humbled by her fears for her daughter, she takes no umbrage at the seemingly harsh words of Jesus. Rather, she further demonstrates her humility – and her faith – by countering: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
And though Jesus knew he was “sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24), there was something about this woman’s passion that touched him deeply.
In Matthew’s account of this same story, Jesus responds: “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed instantly.
The Canaanite woman returned home and found her child well, just as Jesus had said.
And you know what? Like salvation itself, this healing was a gift of pure grace, a beautiful byproduct of faith. The Son of God looked beyond the cultural and religious divides of his time to extend the touch of mercy.
Soon, Jesus and his band of brothers were on the move again – going back to the south and around the Sea of Galilee into another pagan territory – the region of the Decapolis (or the 10 cities).
Once again, health care was on the agenda. Some people brought a man who was deaf and could hardly talk to Jesus. They begged Jesus to place his hand on the man. They really believed “the touch of the Master’s hand” could make all the difference.
Jesus led the man away from the crowd, and attended to him in a way that seems strange to us – the fingers in the ears, the spitting, and touching of the man’s tongue. But it is that final part of the healing that gets my attention. Mark says Jesus looked up to heaven. In other words, he was looking to his Father.
And then he gave a deep sigh – which maybe, in some way, reflects the deep compassion and desire to heal that Jesus always feels for those who are suffering. Finally, he declares emphatically, “Ephphatha!” – an Aramaic word which means, “Be opened!” And with the power of Christ at work in his life, his ears were “opened,” and his tongue was loosened, and he began to speak plainly.
Poor fellow. Who knows how long he has been unable to speak? And yet the first thing Jesus says is don’t tell anyone. That hardly seems fair! In fact, Jesus told them all to keep quiet about what he had done – but it was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. “The more he did so, the more they kept talking about it.”
You see, that’s the way it is when Jesus touches our lives.
If we’ve been down and out.
If we’ve been in that place where there just doesn’t seem to be any hope.
If we’ve lost faith – or maybe we never had it in the first place.
If we’ve been hurt or disappointed time after time after time . . . by people, in general – or maybe by our own family – or maybe even by the church.
And then – in the midst of the darkness – Jesus touches our lives . . . and things begin to change. Sometimes quickly. Sometimes slowly. And what a relief it is when the healing touch of Christ comes into our hearts.
Just like that man who was rescued by Jesus, we’re going to want to tell others about it!
We’re going to want to let our light shine before others, so they may know, too, that our God of Love is right here, in our lives, today.
Jesus has come to our town, too. He’s come to Saint Paris, and to Urbana, and to Piqua, and to Tipp City, and all kinds of places.
And Jesus still comes to bring healing.
He comes to bring hope.
He comes to bring life – new life – abundant life – eternal life.
And you know what? I don’t think Jesus minds us talking about it.
I think on this side of the Resurrection, we’re supposed to share the good news.
We’re supposed to “share the love of Jesus Christ in the community” – and beyond.
What was it the Lord told his disciples in the first chapter of Acts – his final words before he ascended to Heaven?
He told them to get ready for a power surge.
It’s right there, in Acts 1:8 – Jesus says: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
But I digress. Forgive me – sometimes I get kind of excited about what the Lord’s done in my own life, and some of the healing I’ve experienced. There are many types of healing that are available to all of us yet today, through the power of the Living God.
So what are we to do with all this? What’s the “take-away” from these stories in Mark 7?
Maybe it’s as simple as – what was that word again? Ephphatha! Be opened!
On Friday I got something in the mail from Vectren Energy. As I was looking it over, I read a sentence at the bottom of the page where it said that Vectren – and here I’m quoting – “delivers not just power but possibilities” to their customers.
Now I don’t tell you this to put in a plug for the gas company.
But I think in there somewhere – along with good news of Mark’s gospel – is a message that God has for us today . . . a message that God wants our hearts and minds to be opened to – and that is this:
Jesus Christ delivers not just power but possibilities – to you, and to me, and to anyone who comes looking for him.
And you know what’s even better? Because God loves us so very much, we don’t even have to wait until we’re ready to go looking for Christ. Because the Son of God is already looking for us. He’s looking for the lost sheep of Israel. He wants to fill our lives with His power, and free us from ourselves. He wants us to experience the new possibilities that will be opened when we come seeking crumbs from the table.
We are called to receive these gifts – the gifts of:
More love . . .
More power.
More of Christ in our lives.
Let’s not let any false pride keep us from claiming these gifts right now.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon #8 @ St. Paris UMC (8.16.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Mark 5:1-20

Title: “Life in the Tombs”

Date: Aug. 16, 2009 (11th Sunday after Pentecost)

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer." -- Ps. 19:14 (adapted)

Internet Link for primary scripture texts used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/index.php?search=Mark%205:1-20&version=31&interface=print

For many years -- before I became a pastor -- I worked as a newspaper reporter and a columnist for the Dayton Daily News.
But please don’t hold that against me!
Back then, I found some of my best work came when I wrote about things I had a strong personal interest in -- something that came from the heart.
They say ‘write what you know’ . . . and for better or worse, I know myself pretty well.
In fact, when I stand up here each Sunday and preach to you, I am often -- if not always -- preaching to myself at the same time. Some of you probably have caught on to that. You see, we're all in this together.
This morning, in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I feel led to touch on something very close to my heart; something that has pressed on my family for many years -- and especially since April of 2001.
What I want to talk about is the subject of mental illness, in general, and of our son Scott's mental illness, in particular.
When Janet and I met with the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee for an introduction back in March, we were very open with the committee about some of the trials we have faced – and continue to cope with – as we care for our son. Today we wish to share that openness with all of you.
I realize that mental illness is a very difficult thing to understand. I want to help you, hopefully, to understand a little bit better, while considering all these things in the light of Jesus and His amazing grace.
Please know this is not intended as a “pity party” for the pastor and his family. It is, however, something God has placed on my heart – something I’ve been thinking about for weeks. In fact, I asked for Scott’s blessing to address this topic – and some of his story – from the pulpit, and he gave me the go-ahead.
There's a lot of ignorance surrounding the topic of mental illness, both in society in general, and certainly within the Church (which is to say, all churches). The level of understanding is much better than it used to be, but we still have a lot to learn. I know Janet and I have learned a lot since April 4, 2001.
That is the day that our son Scott -- frightened, confused -- at times almost catatonic -- was admitted to Miami Valley Hospital in the midst of a psychotic episode. At the time, he was 21 years old.
It wasn't that all this was entirely new to us. Scott had suffered with severe emotional problems since he was 11 years old, and we'd been through the wringer with psychiatrists and psychologists, multiple hospitalizations, substance abuse problems, legal problems, probation officers, special education and IEPs, and so on. But the extent of Scott's mental illness took a quantum leap on April 4, 2001 -- and our lives were changed forever that day.
He was later diagnosed as having paranoid schizophrenia, a disease of the mind – of the brain. There is no cure for schizophrenia, but its symptoms can be managed – to varying degrees -- with medication. Scott has now been fully disabled for many years. Two psychiatrists who have treated him say his is the worst case of schizophrenia they’ve personally dealt with.
So why the Gospel passage from Mark, about this poor man Jesus encounters in the land of the Gerasenes, this bizarre character who dwells among the tombs?
God led me to choose this lesson for today, for some reason. I'm not sure why. It's not like I believe that Scott is a victim of demonic possession, as the tomb-dweller so clearly seems to be. Of course, like all of us, Scott has his share of soul-sickness. But I've learned enough about mental illness to know that what's going on with Scott is not any type of demonic possession -- because mental illnesses have a physical cause.
Like heart disease and diabetes, mental illness is a legitimate medical illness, one that involves a disorder in the brain. Schizophrenia, for example, is a brain disorder that robs people of their ability to think clearly and logically. The symptoms range from social withdrawal to hallucinations and delusions.
So -- again -- what does Mark 5:1-20 have to do with all this?
I guess it comes down to this.
I'm still waiting for the miracle of healing to come.
I'm still waiting for the pigs to carry this awful thing away from my son, and take it over some cliff, where this great evil can be buried in the bottom of the sea. I'm waiting for that part of the story where the man who lived in the tombs is quietly sitting with Jesus, dressed, "and in his right mind."
And I know the miracle -- the one Janet and I and so many others have prayed for, for such a long time -- this miracle of healing may never come this side of heaven, just as the healing does not always come as we pray for those stricken with cancer, or those stricken with Alzheimer's Disease, or any number of other illnesses.

At our former church, someone once asked: "Who ministers to the minister? Who ministers to you? When something bad happens in our lives, we go to see you. Who do you go to?"
Good question! . . . . One thing I did for a while involved meeting with a ‘spiritual director’ -- that is, a Christian friend who helped me remain open to the movement of the Holy Spirit in my life.
On one occasion, I remember talking to this spiritual guide a short time after Scott had been hospitalized for the third time within a few months. My friend asked me a few questions, such as:
What do you do with all this?
How do you handle it?
Where is God in all this?

That last one is really the key question -- where is God in all this?
It’s something I have continued to ponder and reflect upon over the years.
And I have long-since concluded that God has been and is present in a number of ways, even in the midst of the madness.
God has been present to Janet and I, to all of us, through the love and support of other Christians. In being open with the folks at our former church -- in allowing them to minister to us -- we experienced God's tender mercies. My former parishioners allowed us to be "real," to be authentic, and that is a wonderful a gift. And because we are “all in this together,” that is something I trust we can do here as well.
Indeed, the people in Saint Paris have already begun to follow suit.
As a result of our introductory meeting with the PPRC, someone passed along word that Lawnwood Commons – right here in town – might have an open apartment for which Scott could qualify. That eventually worked out, and we are so thankful that he is living just a half-mile away from us, in a safe place where he is able to have a measure of independence, and we can get some “space,” too!
Now Scott’s appearance can be a little off-putting if you don’t know him – but he’s really a “gentle giant.” He’s a big, burly guy, with long hair and a bushy beard, and his clothing tends to be on the haggard side. But that hasn’t stopped people here from reaching out to him, in kindness and friendship. People like Helen Ann Bishop, who made a point of striking up conversations with Scott during our first days here in town. And people like Bill Slutz, who’s made a couple stops over at Lawnwood Commons to see Scott. Thank you so much.
Yes, God has been with us through this journey, and as usual, He has been working in mysterious ways.
It turns out there were other folks at our previous church who were coping – in one way or another – with mental illness -- either in their own lives, or in the lives of their loved ones. By talking about this difficult subject ourselves, it seemed to make it easier for them to speak openly and honestly about their own struggles.
One of those church members – whose adult daughter has a severe mental illness – has since become a volunteer leader with the “Family to Family” program of the National Alliance on Mental Illness. This is a significant ministry in and of itself.
God also has allowed us to take part in some workshops and meetings which aim to help the religious community – in other words, church people and their leaders – gain a better understanding of the issues and challenges that affect those with mental illness, and their loved ones. At one such session in Cincinnati, I had to chance to speak not only as a clergyman, but more importantly, as the parent of one who is mentally ill.
The Lord also has been present in helping me realize that no matter what happens or what we may go through, I continue to love Scott with all my heart. And I can see in that a sign of God's unconditional love for each of us. If I can yet feel this way about Scott who, frankly, has caused us much grief and sorrow over the years, then how much more dependable must be God's love for all of us, even though we surely have grieved Him beyond measure at times.
God also has used this to remind me that people with mental illness do not choose to have this disease. They are confused and frightened by the things they must contend with, and many have no support system such as Scott has. They and their families must deal not only with the illness itself, but with the feelings of shame and embarrassment that come with it, and the fear of being rejected by those around them.
Think about it. How often have you seen a mentally ill person on TV or in the movies portrayed as anything other than unmedicated, homeless, or violently criminal? In reality, it's a myth that people with a severe mental illness are as a group much more violent than people in general. More often, they are frightened, confused and despairing.
Nevertheless, in our culture, the mentally ill truly are among the outcasts of society, the "marginalized," living in the tombs.
In other words, they are among those whom Jesus Christ has given us a special call to love and care for. Remember? It's found in the 25th chapter of Matthew, where Jesus speaks of separating the sheep and the goats. You know the story:
"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' "

I've got one last story to share with you.
Back in 1996, I travelled to the Philippines and spent two weeks there, in the Far East, as part of a requirement my seminary had for a "transcultural experience." And while we were there, we spent one day going to a region that had been devastated by the eruption of a volcano -- Mount Pinatubo -- a few years before. Many people's loved ones had been killed when the volcano erupted. Entire villages were wiped out -- literally buried in soot and ash. People lost their livelihood, their schools, their churches -- everything was wiped out.
In the midst of this scene, the government had established refugee camps for those displaced by the volcano and its aftermath. We visited one of these camps -- really just a collection of wooden shacks all jammed together -- and right there in the midst of the camp was a United Methodist church. This church didn't have a roof or any windows -- but there was a blue tarp overhead to try to keep the rain out.
As we spoke to the pastor of that refugee congregation about all that the people there had endured, the words he said in reply hit home with all of us in a powerful way. As he considered the devastation and the suffering of his people, he said: "There is a blessing in this somewhere. It's up to us to find it."

Indeed, there is a blessing in this somewhere.
It is up to us to find it.

We are not without hope -- you and me, all of us together -- as we search for the blessing in the midst of whatever circumstances we may be facing in life.
Because of Jesus Christ, there is hope for those who live "in the tombs" -- and for their families.
Jesus said: "In this world you will have trouble -- but take heart! I have overcome the world."
Thanks be to God!