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!

Sermon #3 @ St. Paris UMC (7.12.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Matthew 14:13-21

Title: “We Have Everything We Need”

Date: July 12, 2009 (6th Sunday after Pentecost)


Internet Link for primary scripture text used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2014:13-21&version=31


My name is Gabriel -- but I’m no angel.
In Hebrew my name means “man of God,” but the truth is I’m just an ordinary man.
I once met a godly man, however. In fact, I have come to believe He was the very Son of God.
I’ll tell you about him, but first let me tell you about me and my family. It all ties in together.
My wife, Esther, has given me four children.
First came three girls: Rachel, Phoebe and Tabitha. Then finally – at last, thank God! – a son was born, a boy named Eli.
We live in the town of Bethsaida on the north edge of the Sea of Galilee. I have lived here all of my life – some 33 years now. I am a potter, like my father before me. I am not a rich man by any means, but we get by and usually have enough to eat. We have, however, known great heartache in our family.
An imperial soldier raped my wife some years ago, and then killed her parents when they discovered him with her. That soldier never was punished – they simply sent him to another post in Syria. How my Esther suffered. For a long time, she cringed whenever seeing the swine in the Roman army – and we saw them all the time. How I hated them all.
But we also have lived with the sorrow of our daughter’s blindness. Tabitha has been blind since birth, and it’s not been easy for her – or us. Some people even said it was our fault – mine and Esther’s – for having committed some sin. I didn’t care what people thought. I just wanted my daughter to be able to see. And there was nothing anyone could do about it – or so I thought. That brings me to my story.
You probably have heard of Jesus the Nazarene. I had been hearing about him for months, before that day he finally came near Bethsaida.
They said Jesus was a rabbi from western Galilee, and a most amazing teacher at that. But the thing which really excited me was hearing the stories that were spreading like wildfire, stories about his miracles – miracles of healing. They said he seemed to have the power of God at his command – that with a word from Jesus, the lame could suddenly walk upright. Even lepers had been healed. And when I heard he healed a man who had been blind since birth, my heart started pounding. If there was any way possible, I knew I had to take my Tabitha to see him.
The opportunity came one morning when I heard Jesus had arrived by boat to a place just five miles from Bethsaida. Esther and the two older girls were working at my brother’s house, so I just closed the shop and took Tabitha and Eli with me. We weren’t going to miss out on seeing the famous rabbi. I didn’t know how long it might take, so I told Eli to bring plenty of bread and some fish for us to eat.
It was a hot afternoon and a long walk, but we were excited when we saw the crowd – we knew this must be where Jesus was. I guess we weren’t the only ones desperate to see him. There must have been thousands. People said he treated everyone he met with caring and kindness, like he had always known them. And once again, he had demonstrated the power to heal many of the sick ones.
When we got close, I was so excited I could hardly breathe. Finally we were there – in his presence. Jesus put his hands on Tabitha’s shoulders, and with the warmest smile I’d ever seen, he said, “Look at me child.” I swear -- from that very moment -- our beautiful daughter could see perfectly – as if there’d never been anything wrong. I fell down and kissed the Master’s feet, and I began to cry. He touched my head, then he leaned down and whispered in my ear: “You, too, are healed my son. You and your wife.” And then he turned, and walked away.
I noticed some of the men with Jesus talking in hushed tones as daylight began to fade. I could hear the one called Peter say something about the late hour, and needing to send everyone away because they would be hungry. My 9-year-old son, Eli, heard him, too. Before I could stop him, Eli approached the men and handed them the sack with our food.
Though I feared we would go hungry this night, I didn’t really mind Eli’s childish gesture. After all, this Jesus had just delivered my daughter from blindness. I would have given them anything they wanted!
Suddenly, Jesus spoke loudly, saying, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”
I couldn’t make out what was said next. But a few moments later, Jesus told everyone to sit down on the grass, and I was startled to see he was holding the same bread and fish that Eli had carried.
Jesus thanked the LORD for the food, and then he broke the loaves and gave them to Peter and the other men, who started passing out bread and fish to all the people on the ground. It seemed absurd – such a meager amount of food for such a huge crowd! But they just kept going, passing out the food – we even got some.
There was a sense of wonder in the air as we ate together. We knew we were in the presence of no ordinary man.
Within a short time, everyone had been taken care of – and there was a ton of leftovers, baskets full! I had never had a meal such as this before. It not only filled my belly – it seemed to satisfy my soul.
What a day it was – and what a man!
They said Jesus would be heading for Jerusalem in a short time.
Soon everyone would find out that Jesus was no ordinary man.

* * *

Now shifting back to the 21st century . . .
Many of you, I would guess, are at least somewhat familiar with the story of this miracle of Jesus, when he fed more than 5,000 people in the middle of nowhere with a few loaves of bread and a couple fish. In fact, this is the only miracle of Christ that appears in all four gospels.
On the other hand, I bet there’s not a soul here – with one possible exception – familiar with the story of the Lord’s healing of Tabitha, the girl who had been blind since birth.
There’s a reason for that. This story is a product of my imagination. However, that doesn’t mean it – or something very much like it – couldn’t have happened. You know why I say that?
Here’s why. Let me point you to the Gospel of John for a moment, to the 20th chapter, where John tells us: “Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” (John 20:30-31)
Of all the astonishing things that Jesus did, how awesome it is to consider there were many other “signs and wonders” Jesus performed that weren’t even recorded!
As John put it, “If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.” (John 21:25)
My friend “Gabriel” and his family may be fictional, but there is nothing fictional about the miracle of the loaves and fish, and the power that comes from Jesus Christ. This power flowed not only in the ancient world, but in our world today.
The power and presence of Jesus Christ can change people today, it can change situations and circumstances today, and yes, it most certainly can and does bring healing today.
And when we come to the Lord in faith – when we put our whole trust in his grace – Jesus will always give us what we need, if not always what we want.
We can’t force it though. We can’t treat Jesus like an object to satisfy our various wants and needs – like some genie in a bottle.
What we can do is come to Christ humbly, on our knees, and give him thanks and praise for that which he has already done for us through his suffering and death on a cross. We can come to him humbly, whatever our problems may be, and we can place them into his hands – his nail-scarred hands – and then we can let go. In other words, we surrender; or, like the song says, we surrender all. Then, in the fullness of God’s love, we can rise to our feet with the new life that Christ brings, and ask our King what we can do for Him.
Jesus will give us everything we need to respond in faith to his call upon our lives.
We may or may not be successful. Jesus doesn’t care if we’re successful. He cares that we are faithful. He cares that we love Him enough to spend time with him. He cares that we love him enough to feed his sheep.
And meanwhile He continues to feed us, each and every day, with bread. Like the manna that God provided for the Israelites as they wandered the wilderness in search of the Promised Land, Jesus surely will sustain us – day by day.
In a few moments the same Jesus who fed that hungry throng with five loaves of bread and a couple fish will feed us, too, as we come to his table.
As we eat this bread and drink this cup, we once again will receive this holy meal that satisfies as no other can.
For this meal is the very life of Christ, poured out for you and for me.
Thanks be to God.