Epiphany 5 (A) Is There a Believer in the House?
Epiphany 5 (A) Is There a Believer in the House?
Have you ever been at a public gathering and heard this announcement: “Is there a doctor in the house?” Usually, hearing that means that someone is experiencing some kind of physical difficulty. We all hope that someone with medical training (a doctor) will emerge out of the crowd and do the necessary and right thing! Perhaps the most important role of the doctor or paramedic is to assume leadership. I am always impressed to see how much influence someone trained and confident in their field commands the respect of any bystanders. Good directions can prevent uninformed “helpful” suggestions, that are not actually helpful.
Example: While I was serving at St. Mark’s in Evanston, a lady fainted while on her knees in prayer. Her limp body ended up under three pews. In the process of trying to get help to her, one usher suggested that we slide her body up to the front of the church. And no….no, we didn’t do that…. but only because we discovered that the pews were movable.
I think if we called out, “Is there a doctor in the house?!” we would find it difficult to believe (or accept) that he/or she, would not step forward to help. We would be shocked if they chose to stand around with the other bystanders, tossing out suggestions, but not really helping. If a doctor with years of training and experience refused to make some effort to help, it might be fair to say that their medical degree had lost its meaning.
Using the imagery from today’s Gospel, we might say that the reluctant doctor was like salt that had lost its flavor, or was like a lamp hidden under a basket: whatever his or her positive influence might have accomplished…. remained inert, static, passive, lifeless.
Now, what if instead of hearing, “Is there a doctor in the house,” we hear, “Is there a believer in the house? [Calling out voice] …Is there anyone here who has training and experience, and really believes that we have a loving, caring God who wants to help us?”
In the very first year of my ministry, I really heard that question. I was making my hospital rounds, visiting all Episcopalians in two large Evanston Hospitals. There was a “Mr. Smith” on my list. When I walked into his room it sounded, and looked like, Mr. Smith was breathing his last breath. (I can not imitate the panic in that sound). My first inclination was to stay out of the way, and let the doctors do their thing. Then one of the two doctors attending him looked up and saw my clerical collar and said, “This guy needs you more than he needs us.”
I think that up until that moment, in my hospital calling, I had seen my roll as a friendly, positive visitor from the church, charged with making as many patient-parish connections as possible. This man’s crisis was not going to give my cheerful personality a chance. Whether he lived or died, he was beyond the help of his doctors, or a friendly visitor from the church. In that instant everyone in the room realized that Mr. Smith needed help from almighty God.
So… Mr. Pastor…. “Is there anyone in the room who believes that God cares?”
It felt as if I was frozen in my tracks… under arrest…. hey pastor…. do something! I walked over and laid my hands on his head and said a prayer that (thank God) I had memorized.
“I lay my hands upon you, beseeching the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that all pain and sickness being banished from you, the blessing of health may be yours.”
As I lifted my hands and stepped back there was a visible change. Mr. Smith relaxed, his breathing changed, and the medicine that the doctors were trying to get into his veins began to drip.
I dropped by the next day and Mr. Smith was sitting up in bed looking good. He said he had a confession to make. He said that he had not been in church for five years, and that he would never have to make that confession again. I followed up on that a year later by calling his parish priest. Mr. Smith, I was told, was now a regular, active member of the parish.
We are body, mind, and spirit. Remember that this was my first year as a priest. What happened, I believe, was as much for my sake as it was for Mr. Smith. If you are wondering who the “believer” was in that hospital room…. it was the doctor. If you are wondering if God will acknowledge your prayers even if you are feeling totally inadequate…. I believe the answer is yes! Maybe even more so.
Is there a believer in the house? What should we expect from someone who believes that God cares… and helps in our moments of crisis. In today’s Gospel Jesus tells his disciples, you are the salt of the earth, and the light of the world. Notice that he does not say… you should be, or that someday you are going to be the salt and light of the earth. He says, “You are salt and light!”
What would being “salt” and “light” have meant to Jesus’ followers? Salt was a precious commodity in the ancient world. it was, and still is, necessary for life. At one time salt was given out as wages. Our word salary is derived from a Latin term “salarium” or salt. Salt was used to both season food and to preserve it. It is not only necessary for life; it gives life a little zest. But, adds Jesus, if it fails to do these things, it has lost its value. Here’s the point – Discipleship, like salt, is valued by what it does. When we see an opportunity to serve with our gifts, we (with God’s help) respond.
We need light to live and move and interact. In the culture in which Jesus lived when the oil lamps were extinguished, day to day life ceased. It’s hard to “see” in the dark. In our own culture, when the power goes off, the meetings are canceled. Light facilitates movement and relationships. Light helps us see where we are going with perspective. And it helps us build honest relationships. As believers we measure our lives in relation to the light of God’s love and model the difference our having faith in God will make in this rough and confusing world.
As disciples of Christ, we are meant to keep life moving in a positive, healthy, loving, and caring direction. We know from experience that a kind word or a warm smile can make a real difference. Every time we enter a room, we either make it nobler or more degraded, freer, or more enslaved, loving or more indifferent and…. here is the stinger…. No one can be immunized against us.
You and I are called to be “The salt of the earth, and the light of the world.” how do you like that as an assignment for mission? Is there anyone here with enough education, experience, wisdom, and smarts to fearlessly embrace that godlike and holy way of life?
In today’s Epistle, Paul says, “I was unsure of how to go about this and felt totally inadequate – I was honestly scared to death.” [Translation from The Message].
I think we all know that feeling especially when the question is, “Is there a believer in the house?”
Here’s all I know, when we draw near to God, God draws near to us.
Isaiah asked, “Is there anyone around who knows God’s Sprit, anyone who knows what God is doing?” The answer is yes; Jesus Christ knows. And, as we draw near to Christ through His word, and through the sacraments, and in His fellowship, we discover that indeed there are believers here.
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