Stepping Out: A Love Letter

Justin Thornburgh

North Shore Baptist Church

Luke 2: 41-52, Christmas 1C

December 30, 2012

 Stepping Out: A Love Letter

In today’s scripture we are confronted with a phrase that has captured my imagination. We are told that Mary treasured the events that have transpired in her heart. A similar phrase is used earlier after the shepherd has told the new parents of their miraculous encounter with God’s Army declaring Shalom, God’s true peace. “She held these thing in her heart.” This phrase literally from the Greek means that she held on to them, that she wanted to keep them in her heart so she could keep Jesus as hers. To remind her that he was her son. It was difficult for her to let him go. To let him about his True Parent’s work.

So, come into my imagination as we hear a letter a mother has written to her … to God’s son. 

*** 

My dear sweet boy,

We are waiting as you told us. I am with the others, in the upper room. We have just seen you taken in to the heavens. We watched you ascend into the clouds, and were brought back down to earth by two strangers reminding us that you will come back — you promise. You, my beloved baby boy. You who have caused me to worry, cry, fret, and yes, laugh. It took many years, but I have finally understood what you meant when all those years ago when you told me to let you go about your Heavenly Father’s work. And why, now, we wait.

That day when your father…your earthly father, Joseph and I found you, I was so angry. 

We had come to Jerusalem in a spirit of joy and celebration. We came with all of the others from Nazareth to celebrate passover at the temple. It was such a holy and communal celebration that we would let you run off to play with your friends and your goofy cousin, John, whom you only would get to see at festivals. The two of you would play synagogue with him as the screaming prophet (pretending to be the prophet Jeremiah using a broomstick across his shoulders instead of a yolk) and you as the wise rabbi. You both would make all of us adults laugh at your earnestness. Little did we know. You always had such a good time in the past and we knew that others would watch over you as we watched over theirs. We had a wonderful time, and then we began to head home, after the Sabbath.

But as night fell on that first day and we began to settle down for our meal, you were no where to be found. We asked Elizabeth and Zechariah if they had seen you. John said he hadn’t seen you at all this trip. “Yeshua, Yeshua bar Yoseph.” We ran though the smoke filled  encampment. Searching tents of family and strangers. “Yeshua, Jesus…come out now. It is time to eat.” Nothing. Our hearts began racing…tearing through my chest like a razor through stretched cotton. I thought about the words that the old priest Simeon said to me on the day you were circumcised, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Though I would learn much later what he really meant by this prophecy, I feared you had been taken from me. You my beautiful baby boy. I feared you wandered into the Roman quarter of the city, and they saw you – an unaccompanied boy – and they would take advantage of you, take you captive, make you a slave. You were big and strong for your age, you had the hands of a carpenters apprentice. You knew how to work, and you were always so obedient to elders that I was afraid you would be easily kidnapped. 

My breaths were so rapid that I began to see spots and my head began to throb. The pain in my throat trapped my sobs. Tears were pouring down my cheeks. “Yeshua. Come to your mother!” All I could do was scream your name. Joseph and I started making our way back to Jerusalem. When we arrived at the gate of the city we thought we would find you, but we had to search for three days before we heard about a boy who had been speaking with the elders on the steps of the temple all that time. “O, Elohim, let it be our boy,” I prayed. Thinking I was praying on behalf of Joseph and myself, but only later realizing the true meaning of my words.

There you were. “Jesus! Come here right now. Why have you done this?Why did you not leave with us? Why have you caused your father and I such grief?” 

I remember the look you gave me. You stared at me with a confused expression on your face. Pure innocence. “Why are you searching for me? Did you not know I would be in my father’s house?” When you said that the rage within me boiled. “Your father’s house is in Naze”…And then I realized what you were saying and at that moment I saw a tear in your eye as you came to us. When you wrapped your arms around me I felt a peace that only you could give me. I could tell you wanted to stay, but came with us so as not to disobey the commandment: honor your father and mother.

I held on to this for such a long time. I spent years trying to understand what it meant. What you meant. I struggled to keep a hold of you when all you wanted to do was God’s work. 

From the day of your birth when those thugs and rogues, the shepherds, came and told us that God’s very army had come to them to declare God’s peace being born in the person of my son…God’s son thorough me, to the day when you got angry at me for telling you to turn the water to wine. I have always struggled to remember that you are not just my son. You are not Joseph’s son. You are God come to live with us. You are God the Son. 

Jesus, light of my life, many things I have held on to.

I  held on to the way the gentile men came and offered you gifts. Gifts that I would take to your tomb to anoint you with. I held on to the way that God revealed God’s purpose through them, the stranger, the outsider.

I held on the the old Simeon told me, The words of hope “…my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for the glory to your people Israel.” And I held on to the words of terror, “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul, too.”

I  held on to how you, always the obedient child, changed the water into wine in Cana so that my family would not be embarrassed. You, though, the time wasn’t right thought first about the role of hospitality and wanted to make sure that the host was not embarrassed.

I held on to the fear that shook my body as the elders chased you to the cliff’s edge after you spoke our God’s word in the synagogue. I never understood why you chose to do that in your own home town.You were their child, too…only you claimed to be God’s child in front of them. They were not ready to hear that. I was not ready.

I held on to the utter despair and grief I felt as you seem to have rejected your brothers and me as your family. We came to see you. To ask you to stop because you were making many enemies, and you said “my mother and brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.” What did this mean? I loved you with my whole being. With my whole heart. Why could you not say the same thing? 

I spent that night crying and steeling myself against my pierce soul. As I did, I recalled the words I sang when I learned of your impending birth, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my sprit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty ONe has done great things for me and holy is his name. God’s mercy is for those who fear him.” These words reminded me of the promise of the Saviour, to bring the mighty low, and lift the lowly; to fill the hungry and send the rich away empty. I began to join in those who followed you. I began to understand what it was you meant when you said your mother and brothers were those who hear the word of God and do it. You were freeing me to truly know what God was doing through you. I saw what happened when you send out the seventy . I saw God’s work being done. I saw you feed the thousands. I saw you heal and cure. Raise that woman’s son in Nain. I saw lives changed and transformed. I saw my life changed and transformed. And yet, as your mother, I still struggled to let go of you.

Jesus, I finally was able to let go when I saw that you let go of all that could make you the earthly ruler over us all. You had the followers and the power and the charisma to create a rebellion, but instead you let your self be handed over to be executed. My heart ripped open when Pilate announced the verdict. I melted to my knees, the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could no longer hold on to you, you were being executed for doing the work of God. This was my soul being pierced, and yet even in the horror and utter grief a lightness was filling me, the opening in my soul was filled with peace for I knew that God’s work could not be do finished. When you let out that scream and gasped your final words, I knew it was the powers of darkness that were finished. My holding on to you was finished.

Those days  after your death watching your friends, holding on to you, I saw all that I had been carrying. My hopes and dreams for you, my desire for little ones of yours running around, the need to be cared for now that you were gone; I saw these kinds of desires in the mournful faces of your friends. The sat, scared, terrified, that they would be taken. The women sang Kaddish for you. I sat, letting go of all the things I held in my heart.

As the women and I made our way to the cave where you were buried, I knew something was different. I had a feeling that the frankincense and myrrh that were gifted to you would not be used to anoint your body. When we saw the men and they told us the news of you abandoning the grave, I could do nothing but fall on my knees with my hands lifted in the air blessing Adonai for the great thing that was done. I ignited the perfumes as an offering pleasing to the Lord. You had let go the shackles of death. I had let go of all my fear and trepidation. You are the beloved Son of God, not mine but the worlds!

And now we wait, wait for your Holy Spirit to anoint us and send us out to do your work, o God the Son; for God is ever with us. God is taking the things we hold on to and transforming them for God’s plan, so we can do God’s work. We will step out and go where you send us. 

I love you, son of humanity. Son of God.

Mary, Child of God.

*** 

My dear North Shore Baptist Church,

I, too, have held much in my heart because of you. 

This sermon has been a difficult one to write because of it being the last time I might be in this pulpit. Two weeks before we leave on a sojourn to Indianapolis, were God has led us. Thinking about, praying about, this sermon, I have realized all that I have held in my heart.

I have held in my heart the gracious welcome I received in July of 2001. A welcome that made me feel at home amongst strangers. A welcome that, I learned, was rooted in the biblical understanding of hospitality – that we may be entertaining angels unaware.

I have held in my heart the deep and abiding friendships. The walks talking about theology and music with Tripp Hudgins. The times gathered around a meal table with friends, eating great food and drinking good wine. 

I have held in my heart the welcome you showed a Lutheran girl from Minnesota, and how you nurtured our relationship and prayed for us as we got married, struggled to have a child, and were blessed with our beautiful longed for child.

I have held in my heart the mentorship of pastors, teachers, colleagues who have unselfishly shared their wisdom with me. Who have allowed me to ask dumb questions. Who have opened their hearts to me.

I have held in my heart a church who is doing the work of God. A church powered by the Holy Sprit promised to those in the upper room by the risen Christ. I have held in my heart a church who marches when a school is on the verge of becoming a military academy; a church who welcomes, daily, those the world rejects; a church who cares from friends and stranger as beloved children of God; a church who opens its doors when a neighbor suffered a tragedy; a church who understands what it means to stand for justice and not just charity; a church who unhesitatingly opens its arms to refugees with the hope of being transformed by the blessing they bring.

All these things I have held in my heart, and now I let go; I give them to God. I remember and am fueled by them, but I, also, give them back to you so that you continue to do the work of God as you have for these last 107 years. I let go of them so that I may be opened to the moving of God’s Holy Spirit in my new ministry. 

Beloved friends, God has great things in store for you. You are the recipients of that promised Holy Spirit.  Just as Mary had to let go and I have had to let go; it is my prayer that you let go of any fear or uncertainty that may hinder you from doing God’s work. It is my prayer that you let go of those things from the past that may be laid as stumbling blocks for the future, but remember and cherish those that help tell the story of God’s work through you. It is my prayer that the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirt fill you and bless you all your days. God will be with you. God will take what you hold on to and transform it. God has never abandoned you and never will. Step out and do God’s work.

Thanks be to God.

A Love Supreme

This is an old sermon I found from Epiphany 2010. I was reminded of it when a friend was talking about John Coletrane and Theology.

 

Justin Thornburgh

North Shore Baptist Church

Isaiah 60: 1-6

2 January, 2010 – Epiphany Observed

A Love Supreme

When Pastor Doug emailed me to ask if I would be able to preach today he told me I needed to get my sermon title and text to David before December 22 in order for it to get into the bulletin for today’s service. Knowing that you were planning on observing Epiphany today – the text was easy. But it was hard providing a title for a sermon I had not even begun really preparing – so…let’s change the title of the sermon. As we explore this text from the prophet Isaiah, and as we observe the Epiphany of God the Son revealed to us in Jesus Christ I wish to call this sermon – A Love Supreme…A Love Supreme.

***

It was 1957. A man from Hamlet, NC had gained some notoriety as a jazz musician. He had played with the likes of Miles Davis and Thelonius Monk, Dizzy Gillespie and Johnny Hodges. He had begun to make a name for himself as one of the best side-men in the business. The way he could blow that sax was like nothing people had heard since the hey-day of Bird – Charlie Parker. Smooth and elegant – tight and crisp. When he would blow – be it bee-bop or cool – the melodies coming from his horn would transport you to new places.

He had been a side-man since the mid-40’s and was just beginning to make it on his own. He was trapped, though. Trapped in heroin addiction and alcoholism that were spiraling him out of control. I don’t know all of his experiences with the box he was in, but I do know people who have been in that same hell. When you need a fix – you can’t breath. You break out into cold sweats. The quietest noises sound like explosions in your head. You bowels tightens – your bladder loosens. You can only call out like a baby crying out for mother’s milk.  Everything disappears but your own pain and all you can hear is your heart beat. dum-dum. dum-dum. dum-dum.

He was trapped in hell. dum-dum. dum-dum.

Nothing. dum-dum. Mattered. dum-dum.

The sound of the beat. The sound of the beat.

dum-dum. dum-dum.

A light. dum-dum. A sight. dum-dum.

Spirit. dum-dum. Overflowing. dum-dum.

A voice. dum-dum. Of God. dum-dum.

A love supreme. A love supreme. A love supreme.  

Light entered into John Coltrane’s life in 1957 and helped him to fight his demons. Light broke into his life and changed the world of Jazz music forever – as he, in 1964 composed A Love Supreme as a “humble offering” to the Grace of God.

***

Today we are observing the feast day of Epiphany. Often it is associated with the arrival of the wise men from their far off distant lands; however, it is about much more than the arrival of the magi. The meaning of the word epiphany is an appearance or manifestation. In this case it is the appearance of God the Son revealed in person of Jesus Christ. We are celebrating today – the Light come into the world. We are celebrating the fact that God – the sovereign of all – came to this world to dwell among us as fully human. Immanuel. God with us. With US!

“Arise, Shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.

For darkness shall cover the earth,

and thick darkness the peoples;

but the LORD will arise upon you, 

and his glory will appear over you.”

The words from Isaiah were written to a people who had just been released from captivity. They were a people retuning home, and these words were about their beloved Jerusalem. The center of their lives had been destroyed – the temple. The dwelling place of the LORD. It had been destroyed by the Babylonians – and they were returning to a land which was covered in darkness.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come.”

The Christ child was born into a land resting in the glory of Pax Romana. The great Roman peace. A peace maintained through the systematic persecution of any little whiff of rebellion. A peace maintained through the systematic slaughter of the weak. Thousands of crucified lined the roadsides as a visible deterrent to any planning of rabble rousing.  The Roman installed “prefect” of Galilee was so paranoid that he ordered the massacre of any child under the age of two. The land was covered in darkness.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come.” Words so difficult to say.

Darkness is covering our land. As we enter this new year we are bold to remember the nearly 450 people murdered this past year – many of whom were children – our future. We remember the empty chairs at the holiday tables. We remember the nameless 14 year old boy shot Friday night. We remember that violence covers our city.

As some here are struggling with how to pay their rent or mortgage because of being laid off – we remember all of those for whom the new year is beginning with fear and trepidation instead of happiness and good cheer. We stand in solidarity with those for whom the day to day struggle is more than can be imagined.

We remember our sisters and brother who are not here because of sickness. Our beloved sisters and brothers confined to their beds and unable to step out because of the ravages of disease. There are those present today who may be suffering from depression as the holidays remind them of those no longer with them. Darkness shall cover the earth and thick darkness the peoples.

When we have to say good-bye to one of our beloved – as his journey on this earth has come to an end – the darkness surrounds us.

We cry in the words of the psalmist:

“Surely darkness shall cover me,

and the light around me become night.”

Sometimes, sisters and brothers, we are caught in spiral of endless nights – times when we make our beds in Sheol – the valley of the shadow of death. It is hard sometimes to even drag ourselves out of our homes – if we are blessed enough to have them. The weight of the world, at times, is too much to bear. And it is in these times – when all we can do is curl up into a fetal position and hear the beating of our hearts – dum-dum. dum-dum. It is in these times, though when we are most open to the voice of God. dum-dum. dum-dum. A love supreme. A love supreme.

It is in these dark times when we hear the voice of God though the psalmist:

“Surely darkness shall cover me,

and the light around me become night.

[but] Even the darkness is not dark to you:

the night is as bright as the day,

for darkness is as light to you.”

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, 

and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you!”

Sisters and Brothers – when the darkness of night seems to be all we can bear – and all we can do is sit and cry -it is in these moments we listen for the voice of God. When grief clouds our minds and tears blur our vision – the voice of God is calling out to us – “Arise, shine; for your light has come.” Your light is here. “The true light which enlightens everyone” has come into the world.

God the son entered into this world. Our God – the true light – pierced the darkness of the world in the body of a baby boy born in an a stable. Our God entered this world and lived as a fully human man – suffering the grief and pain we suffer. Laughing and playing as we laugh and play. Our God came and dwelt among us – Our God suffered death as we all will – and our God conquered death. 

Our God through Jesus Christ has come to give us hope when all hope seems gone. Our God is the God who healed a woman bleeding for 12 years. Our God is the God who sent the legion of demons into the sea – freeing a man tortured by the world. Our God is the God who gave the water of Life to a woman at a well. And our God is the God came to earth and promises all who believe will have eternal life – we have been saved by a God who has conquered all the trials and tribulations we may face. Though we – at times – may feel that God is the farthest thing from us – there is always a light shining in our darkness. We, friends, are the recipients of a love supreme.

In this new year – when the darkness feels like it is covering us – remember our God has shone through the darkness.  

Remember Our God came to earth fully human – yet fully divine. Obliterating the darkness in this world. 

Our God – in the words of the Apostles Creed – descended into Hell. Bringing the light of heaven into the darkest of places.

Our God is with us in every breath we take. In every beat of our hearts. God is shinning in us. 

We lift our hands an give thanks our God loved us so much – A love supreme. 

We say To God be the glory, to God be the glory

To God be the glory for the things he has done.

And when we are caught in the dark – and the beating of our hearts is all we can hear – remember the light that came in to the world and the words calling out to us in the darkness – a love supreme…a love supreme…a love supreme.

Stormy Weather Video

Stormy Weather

Justin Thornburgh

Pentecost 4B

North Shore Baptist Church

24 June, 2012

Mark 4: 35-41

Stormy Weather

(Prologue: The Big One)

April 19, 1996. The day had been rainy on and off. It was one of those typical stormy spring days. The overcast skies had kept most of us inside for most of the day. At about 6 o’clock that evening though, I had to head out. I was leaving my dorm room and walking to the auditorium where I was to be an usher of that evening’s performance of our annual dance concert. As I walked up the hill that went from my dorm to Shilling Hall, the humidity was making me sweat even though the temperature was not all that warm. There was a stillness in the air. The birds were quite. The trees were still. Just the clouds, way up there were moving. The were coming from the south west. I stood and watched them for a few moments, and I began to see the clouds in the layer above moving in the opposite direction. Having spent my entire life in Central Illinois, I knew we were in store for a pretty big storm. I had seen this dozens of times.

8 p.m. The house lights go down and the dance concert begins. It is a sold out house. 220 people had gathered to watch the student choreographed and performed pieces. The concert was moving along, and people seemed to be having a good time. We were just about to begin the last piece before intermission, and the house lights came on. The stage manager came out and said that building security would like us all to move down stairs into the foyer under the main stair case. A tornado had been spotted just north of town. As an usher I had to make sure the people made it to the safe zone quickly and calmly. People grabbed their belongings and headed to the foyer quite calmly. It was a very easy exercise. However, when we got down to the foyer, we could see out some windows. This is when people began to panic.

For those of you who have never experienced a tornado, there are certain things that happen outside and things that happen to the air. It is really a whole body experience. There are sights, sounds, feelings, and smells. Many of the people there, dancers and audience were from the Chicago area and had never experienced this before. Looking out the window the sky had turned green, and it isn’t a pretty green. Think the color of Lake Michigan after a stormy day, or the color of split pea soup. People’s ears began to pop as the barometric air pressure suddenly and significantly drops. Even inside we could smell the almost metallic smell of the impending storm. And the air that hits your skin, even in the safety of a foyer that has withstood storms for nearly a century immediately causes your clothes to stick to you. I could see a family huddled in the corner, holding each other. I saw students, praying. I watched as a mother held on to her daughter, still in full costume and makeup. As we waited, someone spotted the familiar funnel cloud. The clouds I had seen earlier moving in opposite directions were now entwined in a dance. A pas de deux that would touch down about a mile north of Millikin University. A dance of destruction that would destroy over 200 homes and cause over 9 million dollars in damage. A danse macabre that did not deal death in Decatur, but was part of a twisting ballet of tornadoes that day that decimated several small towns in Central Illinois.

April 19, 1996 is the most scared I had ever been during a storm. Yet, I had a peace that I could not understand. Not at the time.

(Scene 1: The Waves of Destruction)

Reflecting on that evening as I was preparing these words, I began to finally understand the fear the disciples had. Here was a bunch of guys who had been running ragged. They had been going non-stop since this teacher had, somehow, convinced them to join his journey. Though Mark doesn’t give a time frame, in these four short chapters leading up to this point Jesus had called the disciples, healed a man with an unclean spirit, healed Simon’s mother in law, gone on a preaching tour, cleansed lepers, healed a paralytic, eaten with tax collectors and sinners, gotten into debates with the pharisees, healed a man with a withered hand, cured the multitudes at the seaside, appointed his twelve main disciples, been called crazy by his family, been accused of being the devil, and gave a major sermon by the sea shore. And now he was wanting them to go to the other side of the sea. To the side of the Gentiles. This could not be good. The clouds were gathering.

Exhausted the disciples and Jesus loaded the boat. Hoping for some time of quiet. Praying that they would not have to go to the other side. Maybe Jesus was saying that so they could go out alone and just float in peace. After all, why would he want to go over there, where the heathen are. Sadly, though, as they shove out they see there are other boats following them. They hoist the sails and head to the middle of the sea. Jesus bunks down in the rear of the boat. He covers his head  for darkness and falls asleep. The others, too, begin to doze off enjoying the brief respite. But then the clouds that were gathering began to turn and twist in the dance of destruction. The swirling of the clouds. The moving of ions. The charge of static. Boom. A lightening bolt hits the sea barely a mile in front of them. They are all away. All except Jesus. The waves begin to churn. The rain begins to fall. Stinging the skin of the arms as it pelts them with pieces of hail. The waves now begin to swell causing the boat to list back and forth. The fishermen on the boat immediately begin to lower the sail. They start yelling at each other to batten down the cargo. Matthew, only been on a boat a few times, lurches of the side of the boat and lets go of his lunch. The remaining disciples being using whatever they can to throw the constantly incoming water overboard. Everyone is in panic. All except Jesus. Jesus who is sound asleep. Jesus who told them to go to the other side. Jesus who caused this by making them head to the unclean ones. This is like when God was angry with Jonah and caused a storm, sending him to Nineveh. This is God causing a storm to sent them back to the right side of the sea. The were all beginning to get angry. All except Jesus. Jesus who was sound asleep. Someone wake him up.

These storms on the Sea of Galilee are not small things. They  can cause waves that will crash in parking lots a quarter mile off the shore line. They are huge and fierce.  They disciples were only reacting like any of us would in such a situation. These were waves of destruction. These were waves that would bury them at sea, and not allow them to where their journey with this teacher might end. These were waves caused, so they may have though, by a God who was angry at them. These were waves of destruction.

(Scene 2: Stormy Weather)

Storms have long been a literary device for something ominous. Snoopy’s oft used opening line to his novel, “It was a dark and stormy night…” The opening sequence to untold tv shows or horror movies. Storms have almost gotten to the point where they are a cliche image. We know something bad is going to happen when the camera cuts to the clouds moving behind the barren tree and the music hits a minor key. But anyone who has been through a severe storm can tell you, they are scary.

Storms have the ability to remind us how small we are as human beings. How powerless we are against the forces of nature. Our mighty buildings can be washed away by a whole in a levee. We all can picture New Orleans and others places that were devastated by Hurricane Katrina. The empty plots of land that were once entire neighborhoods. Gone. Erased by waves of destruction that engulfed the land. Duluth, MN right now is experiencing unprecedented flooding. I have seen pictures of entire swaths of highway gone. One street , where the flooding river has gone under ground looks like a cratered image of the moon. Lake Superior is engulfing the port city. Thus far, $80 million dollars worth of damage.  Our section of the country is suffering from another kind of storm, the overwhelming lack of rain. Drought is choking out the land that my family comes from. Hopes of a harvest that will provide for those who farm the land are blowing away in the dust from the cracked ground that should be nourishing  the crops. Waves of dusty destruction are sweeping over much of the rest of the country. We are in stormy weather.

The storms that we face are not just the natural storms. Not just the storms that cause us to get wet, or cover our eyes from the drifting dust. No, each of us in our own lives are often caught adrift in a sea, while the storm clouds pirouette above our heads. We do what we can to push the water out of the boat, but the deluge just keeps coming.

The winds begin to blow as our national debate gets more focused on what a woman can or can not do, or who can marry whom; than on whether or not our children can get the education they need or that the poor and working poor can afford to food on the table. When the debate is misses the fact that those needing food-stamps, now will have $90 dollars less a month to buy groceries and instead focuses on whether or not the president or his challenger said something that might offend some constituency or another. Some times the blowing winds come from us when we vote purely along party lines instead of asking how a candidates positions are in line with the Reign of God.

The lightening strikes when we are told that an offer has been extended only to have it pulled our from under our feet. An offer of a new job, only to be told never mind. An offer for a place of our own, only to later be told we didn’t mean it. To be told we are loved only to have that person turn on us when their own storms are threatening to overwhelm them. The bold of lightening flashes when we speak our of both sides of our mouths.

The clouds move in when our mailbox is cluttered with past due bills, and our voice mail box is full with voices saying,” please call us as soon as possible.” The clouds begin their dance when the doctor says, “cancer;” when the employer says, “we need to make some cuts;” when the loan officer says, “you don’t qualify.” The clouds are spinning over our heads. The rains fill our boats. There are so many storms that threaten to throw us overboard.

(Scene 3: Wake Up!)

The disciples feared being thrown overboard. They are angry that Jesus is not helping. That he is sleeping through the storm. That he does not seem to even notice that they are dying.

“Wake up, Jesus! Help us.” They are crying out. “Get our of bed and throw water overboard, all hands on deck.” But what does Jesus do. He gets up and shouts at the winds and the sea, “Peace! Be Still.” And immediately the seas calm. The sun begins to break through the clouds. The fierce skin piercing wind turns into a gentle breeze.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” That is all he says to them as he heads back to his place in the stern of the boat and falls back asleep. Stunned, they disciples ask each other who this man is that even the winds and the sea obey. They don’t get it.

Who is this man that even the seas and winds obey? Who is this carpenter’s son? Who is this man born in scandal, born out of wedlock? This teacher who heals and exorcises demons?

This man is Jesus, the Word incarnate. The very voice that said let there be light. The very voice that split the waters in two creating the heavens and the earth. The very voice that caused a storm that led to a rebirth of humanity. The very voice that blew winds across the sea creating dry land for refugees to cross into freedom. The very voice that in the whirlwind that tells the suffering one “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?…Who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb?…Has the rain a father or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb did the ice come forth…the waters become hard like stone.” The very voice that from a boat in a storm tossed sea says, “Peace! Be Still.” The voice of the Son of God, Jesus Christ is the voice that calms the storms.

(Scene 4: Peace! Be Still.)

As the storms of our lives threaten us, Jesus is not asleep. Sometimes we may think he is, but through faith we know he is in the boat with us. Jesus is saying to our storms, “Peace! Be still. I got this. I can carry you.” Trusting that God is with us in our storms will bring peace. Remembering all the times before when Jesus has caused the rains to cease and the winds to stop, we again can hear the words, “Peace. Be still.”

When our neighbor come over  to offer a listening ear, “Peace! Be Still.” When our child holds our hand in doctor’s office, “Peace! Be still.” When a parent says, “I am proud of you.” “Peace! Be Still.” When a meal is provided and we did nothing for it, “Peace! Be still.” When a community lifts your joys before the Lord, “Peace! Be Still.” When our heartache is prayed for by our sisters and brothers, “Peace! Be still.”

The storms of our lives like the storms in the sky will keep coming. It is a fact of life, but the voice that created the world says, “Peace! Be Still.” That voice that cried out on calvary’s cross, “It is finished.” The storm of Good Friday ended with the sunrise of the resurrection. “Peace! Be still.” The storm may be here now, we may be sitting in the rain on Saturday, but we know that Jesus rose on Sunday and our storms will come to an end. The Sun will shine. Just believe. Just trust. Jesus hasn’t let us down yet. God the creator of the universe can calm our storms. The sun will shine.

(Epilogue: Here comes the sun)

As the tornado touched down in Decatur, I felt a peace in my terror. Even though the town had major damage, I had a peace and I did not know why. But I have come to believe that it was Jesus in me. Reminding me that even though there is destruction, I am there. I am there when the neighbors came out and hugged each other, when strangers helped rebuild each others houses, when an entire community – a community with economic hardships – came together and bore each others’ burdens. It was Jesus telling me, “Peace! Be Still. I got this. Here comes the sun.”

With Great Power…

Justin Thornburgh

Irving Park Baptist Church

Sermon: Mark 5: 21-43 (5th Sunday after Pentecost B – preached out of order) [note: since I don't preach every week, and was the guest preacher at a non-Lectionary church, I chose this text.]

10 June, 2012

With Great Power…

(Scene 1: The Static)

This section of the Gospel of Mark is one of my favorite passages in the entire Bible. These two stories sandwiched together. The vividness of Mark’s storytelling just draws me in. I feel I am there, waiting on the shore. Knowing that he is on his way back from the other side of the sea. I can feel the heat of the summer day causing the sweat on my skin to stick to the cloak I am wearing to protect me from the rays of the sun. And I feel overwhelmed and engulfed by the crowd that appears and is waiting for Jesus to get back on dry land.

As he does they crowds just swarm around him. People who have heard about how he has gone around healing people and casting out demons. I imagine it to be like being in an eL car during rush hour. People shoulder to shoulder. Getting bumping into each other. Starting to get on each other’s nerves a little bit. Hot. Sweat. Stink. There are people who I would rather not deal with all around me. And as the crowd follows him like a swarm of bees, suddenly a path opens up as the Jairus, one of the town religious leaders, comes through the crowd. The noise and movement seem to stop as the crowd become silent. Watching. They had heard that Jesus has had encounters with the authorities in other towns. The news had reached them that Jesus was barred from ever coming to the synagogue of his home town again. They had heard stories about how he he healed a man on the Sabbath, how he had had dinner at the  house of tax collectors and prostitutes. They had heard how the religious leaders of other communities had challenged him calling him the devil, and that he responded talking about the Reign of God being more important that the rules the leaders sought to enforce.

So when Jairus came through the crowd, parting it like their forefather Moses parted the Sea so the Israelites cold cross, they were expecting a confrontation. “How dare you enter into our town with your magic.” “Your demonic ways are not allowed within our wall.” “Go with your band of losers to another place, a place with sinners like you.” Instead, though, what they witnessed was their town leader falling on his face, prostrated before Jesus. As his face was in the dirt he began to weep, uncontrollably. He was speaking, but they could not understand what he was saying. Jesus reached down and helped him up. With dirt stuck to his face, tears in his eyes, snot and spittle coming from this nose and mouth their leader looked like a lost little child. Confused and shaken he said to Jesus, “My daughter, the little girl and love of my life is dying. Come and touch her so she will become well and live.” Jesus placed his arms around the man and said something and they turned around and began to head to Jairus’ house.

As they were turning around the crowed began to engulf them. The disciples of Jesus tried to surround the two men as the walked. They tried to be a buffer between their master and the crowds. Kind of  like the secret service surrounding President Obama. But the crowds kept pushing.They were getting anxious, of course Jesus would ignore them and go with the guy with the power. Of course he would try to impress the guy who could make his life easier. They were beginning to turn on him a little bit. When suddenly Jesus went pale and stopped moving.  “Who touched my robe?” The crowd was stunned. Again, “Who touched my robe?” At this his disciples began to laugh at him, “Jesus, you see how many people there are and how they keep pushing in. How can you say who touched me? Many have touched you.”

“It was me.” A voice from the crowd, and as people began to see who said it, they stared to move away from her. It was her. The one that had to be kept on the outskirts of town because she was always bleeding, and as good Jews the people could not come in contact with such an unclean person. She looked somehow different now, “It was me. I touched you. I knew you had healed all those people and that if I could just touch you I would be healed. I touched you, and I am no longer bleeding. After 12 years and all my money  spent, I am finally clean. I am no longer an outcast.” The color had returned to Jesus’ face, and he moved toward the woman. What was he going to do. He grabbed her and embraced her. He took her face in his hands and said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Shalom, and be healed.” He brought her face to his lips and kissed her on her forehead. He had a tears coming from his eyes as he embraced her again like a father holding on to his baby girl.

As they are holding each other, some approaches Jairus and says something and Jairus falls to his knees. Jesus holding the woman’s hand, returns to Jairus, “Do not fear. Only believe.” Jairus stops crying and stares at the woman. The one he had repeatedly run out of the synagogue because she was making it impure. He looked at her and as he got up he whispered something in her ear. She let go of Jesus’ hand. Reached her hand to Jairus’ and he her. The held hands for a moment, and she retreated into the crowd. Jesus took Jairus and they went to his house where people where wailing and weeping. They were making a commotion. Jesus looked at them and said, “The girl is asleep.” The aunt of the girl came up to him and spit in his face, she laughed with rage in his face. “How can you say that? We have been here with her. She is dead.” “Get out, all of you except Mom and dad.”

“Take me to her.” The went to the room where she lay. She was not breathing. She was dead. It was quite obvious, but then the words Jesus said came back to Jairus’ mind. “Do not fear. Only believe.” Jairus took him to her lifeless body and put Jesus’ hand on her chest. Jesus bent down and whispered in the girls ear. “Little girl. Get up.” He kneeled at her side with his hand on her chest, and then his hand began to move up and down as breath entered the little girl’s lungs. She got up and ran to her mommy and daddy. Jairus looked and Jesus. Peace in his eyes. Jesus said, “Feed her, and don’t tell anyone about this.”

Back outside, the crowd waited. The woman in the front of them. Jesus exited the house with his disciples, and they made their way across town. Healing others along the way. Acting with great power.

( Scene 2: The Power is Out)

This story cuts across all kinds of boundaries and expectations. It has a power that flies in the face of the expected. Jesus goes to heal the daughter of a man who represents those who oppose him. He touches an unclean woman. He stops going to help the man in power to first acknowledge the personhood and kinship with a woman who is an outcast in her society.

The crowd is its own power. They represent the expectations of the world; the power of the world. They represent the need for healing. The need for reconciliation. The demand for answers. The ebb and flow of indecisiveness. The love and want Jesus to heal. They laugh at him when he says something that requires faith. The crowd and the disciples in Mark are the everyman that represent us.

The crowd  are a people who are oppressed by powers that places the honor of the elite above those who are the outcast and least among us. That mentality, though imposed by the Roman elite has trickled down into the smaller Jewish society. It is expected that Jesus will stop and help the one who could help him. The man with the power in that village has the ability to make life for Jesus better.

The man with the power has the ability to make our lives better, too. The ones with the power can act to help, but most often their self interest takes priority. Like the man who comes to Jesus for help, yet rejects the bleeding woman from the synagogue; the ones in power in our lives claim they are here to help, but only if we do things their way. Or they just mock.

I have a friend whose unemployment benefits are about to run out. That means he has been unemployed for almost 99 weeks, nearly a year and a half. A couple of months ago he was told he had been hired, but then a few weeks before he was to start he was informed that the company had decided to not hire new workers because of the state of the economy. They said they were going to extend the hours current employees work, and have a hiring freeze. They are claiming the economy is to unstable for them to hire new workers, without realizing that by hiring new workers they would be helping the economy. They might not make as much money or their share holder might not get as much in their dividends, but people would have jobs and their community would be strengthened. The power says that the greenback is more important that a renewed and restored community. So, in the meantime, my friend keeps fighting for a new job.

About a year ago there was a big fight in the state house about giving tax breaks to major companies to keep them in the Chicago area. Tax breaks that would guarantee these companies would stick around and keep people employed. So the powers at the corporation decided as a thank you to lay off hundreds of workers as the ink was drying on the bill that gave them the breaks. Tax breaks that are paid for by taking money from programs that are in place to help those with the most needs: WIC, Medicaid, Schools. The powers work to stir up anxiety in the crowd.

The powers of this world continually try to put us in our place. Giving us the name of victim or token. Telling us that we are not important. Powers that cause infighting that can destroy communities from the inside out. That leave us hemorrhaging seeking cures  from places that in reality offer no true healing. Making us reliant on the very powers that are seeking to keep us in our place. Our power is out. We fight and strive to name ourselves. We collapse in the dirt and reach for the garment.

(Scene 3: Flip the Switch)

In the midst of the crowd, the woman reaches out and touches Jesus’ garment. She fights her way through the crowd to liberation. Trusting that Jesus has the power that can transcend all of the powers that seek to keep her on the margins. Jesus who is on his way to heal the daughter of the powerful. Jesus who breaks the rules and touches her. Jesus who takes her in his hands and calls her daughter.

Jesus bucks what is considered right, and instead uses his power – the power of the Living God, to say to this woman: “You are whole. You are beautiful. You are special. You are my daughter. I love you with the love of the Father. I don’t care what the powers of this world say to you. I will stop what I am doing and say to you, you are my beloved child.” Jesus uses his power to restore this woman and say to the crowd that she is part of their community. Jesus uses his power to cause reconciliation between the crowd and this woman. Jesus is healing community and body.

But Jesus does not leave it at that, no, he goes on to heal the daughter of the powerful. He changes Jairus’ world when he says, “Do not fear. Only believe.” Words that make the leader of the synagogue see that it is the woman’s belief that made her whole. It is her belief in the God of all creation that gave her the courage and daring to reach out and touch the hem of Jesus’ robe. Jesus tells Jairus not to fear. Believe in the God who is for all. Believe in the God who can bring this woman to wholeness, to healing, to restoration and reconciliation. Jairus has some faith for he fell at Jesus’ feet, but his world view was altered when Jesus stopped to help the least among them first. He  had hoped Jesus would heal his daughter, but when she dies he is fearful. “Do not fear. Only believe.” There is a new power at work here. Flip the switch.

(Scene 4: Power Surge)

Sisters and brothers, there is a new power at work here. The power that transformed the bleeding woman into a full fledged member of society; the power that said to the powerful, I love you too; the power that walked the hillsides of Palestine; the power that emptied itself on the cross only to say to the power of death you have no hold us: that power is alive and moving here in the city of Chicago; it is alive and moving in this neighborhood. At the corner of Irving Park and Kostner; there is a power sure. Jesus Christ is alive an moving in this place.

The power of Jesus says to those who are on the verge of loosing their benefits, “I am with you. You are my child. I give you the power of God’s peace. I will not let you go.” The power of Jesus says to those who are trapped in the unknowing of the future, fighting to hold onto the security they have, desiring deeply to be named, “Hold my hand. You reached out, I am here. Do not fear. Only believe.

The power of Jesus is the power that seeks to heal. That seeks to reconcile. That seeks to restore broken relationships. The power of Jesus is that sound of a child laughing at the exact moment when we loose hope in the wold. The power of Jesus is the gust of wind that tickles the hair on the back of our neck, patting us telling us we are loved. The power of Jesus is the healed relationship with a parent or child. It is the embrace of a friend when you can’t stand up on your own. It is the love of a parent, or the kiss from a child. The power of Jesus is that thing that makes us perk up our ears in the middle of the night. It is that warm feeling of peace we get when we are told we are being prayed for. It is when you, Irving Park Baptist, are gathered together to worship God. To pray for each other. To eat together.

Sisters and brothers, Jesus has given us the power. We are his beloved. We are healed, restored, and reconciled. Let us go from this place seeking to heal, restore, and reconcile. Let us go forth knowing that we are sent with great power. With the power of Jesus.

Thanks be to God.

Note About Sermons

The Sermons I post on this blog and on Facebook are the unedited drafts. The final preached version may differ. Also, I make no attempt to correct grammar, punctuation, or spelling in these drafts. I mark up the final sermon – correct odd wording, fix punctuation and spelling where needed. Below is a sample page of a final preached manuscript.

More Than Enough

Justin Thornburgh

Sermon: Pentecost B

1 Cor 12:3-13  (Roman Lectionary)

27 May, 2012

North Shore Baptist Church

Audio:

More than Enough

(Prologue: Something Special)

It was a hot August day. The noonday sun was sweltering; there was a breeze blowing, but it was one of those unhelpful winds. The kind that just blew the hot air into the already hot and crowded field. The dust that is carried along just stuck to the sweaty skin of those assembled to hear the main event. The people pulsing as the warm-up band was playing. The music filling the air. The crowd was beginning to take on its own life. There were moms and dads. Kids dancing. And there was Maggie, in her special chair. Her chair with switches and knobs. Her chair that propelled her from place to place; moved her because her legs could not. She was bobbing and rocking in her special chair; grooving to the beats of the band; waiting for the main event just like everyone else.

Often times at school and at church Maggie felt left out. She was born with part of her spinal cord exposed on the outside of her spinal column; a condition called spina bifida. Born without the ability to mover her legs she was confined to her special chair that propelled her from place to place. Her chair with the switches and knobs. When the kids in the playground would play tag and tetherball, leaving her on the sidelines, it was her special chair that keep her occupied. The switch that would let her go to space, or the knob that communicated with the submarine at the bottom of the sea; she would escape to the places of refuge in her imagination. It wasn’t much better at church, the big people would often pretend she was not there. When she was at church and the big people would sing and pray and the other kids would go to their special church, she was left to sit in her special chair in its special place near the back. She would not go with them because she couldn’t get to their special church room. But she would flip her prayer switch and know she had a special connection to God. She would pray for her little brother and her mommy and daddy; she would thank God that the kids at school did not get hurt when there was the big collision during the soccer game; she would pray for her church asking that God would let them see her and know she could help them in their prayers and songs.

Many times Maggie would be left on the sidelines; ignored and forgotten about because she could not get up and participate. She was often considered less than everyone else because she was not “normal.” She knew she had gifts to offer, but people did not see them. People thought she was more of a burden, or if they were feeling especially pious they would present her as a token; “look we have a handicapped girl in our school,” or “we are open and welcoming, see we have a girl in a wheel chair.” What they missed was the Sprit that was upon Maggie. They did not hear her when she prayed or when she sang, they dismissed her and missed the Holy Spirit.

They missed it, but here mommy and daddy knew. And on that hot August day, people would have a Pentecost moment.

(Scene 1: They’re Just Babies)

People were being ignored and left out in Corinth. It is understandable…kind of. After all this was a fairly new community of believers. They were still trying to get a basic understanding of the faith they had been converted to. Corinth, unlike other communities to which Paul was the spiritual leader, was a fairly non-Jewish area. Often in other communities Paul would preach and convert at the local synagogue – which was the community gathering spot for Jews and Gentiles. But Corinth was a multi-ethnic shipping hub with many faith traditions being represented. Most of the new believers in Jesus Christ had come from the Greco-Roman traditions, followers of the gods of the Greeks and Romans. They were used to being in a system that made sense to the rules of the world; there was heirarchy. They participated in the honor/shame system that Rome had put in place. But through the teachings of Paul, they had begun to take part in the foolishness of the cross.

The first letter to the Corinthians is a letter that is trying to help them navigate their way through this foolishness. They deeply desired to follow this new way, but were still being held captive by the rules of the system they had grown up in. People were being left hungry at the Lord’s Table. People were still dominating their slaves. People were speaking to God in strange tongues; that is the way the oracles spoke the words of the Greco-Roman gods so it can’t be a gift of the Living God. People were being ignored because they were not fitting into the what was perceived as the “right way.” They were put to the sidelines because they were not baptized by the right person; by Paul or Apollos or Cephas. There were factions. A line was drawn that was saying you are either in or you are out; a line drawn by humans. A line that cold not see gifts of the Holy Spirit when they were staring them in the face. They were ignoring the image of God in their midst.

The early followers of the foolishness could not hear the Holy Spirit speaking to them because the sprits of the world were shouting much louder.

(Page 2: To the End of the Line)

The sprits of the world have not gotten any quieter. How often do I ignore someone because I don’t think I can help, or they will just waste what I spend on them? How often do I not consider that this person is a child of God, and has gifts to offer the community…gifts that would be a blessing if only I would have recognized they Spirit in them? I know I have often listened first to the sprits of the world and ignored the Sprit of the Holy One.

This happens at home, on a walk to the park, and in our churches. Because someone is too young, or too old to participate fully they are ignored. Because someone can’t speak English clearly their input is not solicited. Because of someone’s sexual identity they are considered somehow different or inferior.

Things of this world get in the way of our recognizing the One Spirit present among all those who proclaim, “Jesus is Lord.” Sometimes we get caught up in simply trying to survive; to recognize our own spirit that we miss the gifts someone may have to offer. When an opportunity that would have meant a certain amount of financial security is pulled out from under us; when the compensation of a job we have is based fully on elements outside our control; when we are graduating to the next grade and have no idea if our support system will be with us or if we will be left to sink or swim all alone. The white noise of the world whispers in our ears. Constantly reminding us that we are significantly insignificant. Tightening our sprits. Choking the life out of us until our peripheral vision beings to fail and we become tunnel visioned; focusing only on our ourselves and ignoring the Holy Sprit in the person next to us. Ignoring that that person has a gift that can help bring us out of our mess.

The white noise fills the airwaves when we hear of a person who wears the name Baptist saying that all “lesbians and queers and the homosexuals should be rounded up and put in an electrified pen until they all die.” The spirit of the Evil One fills the air someone who shares our faith tradition so totally disregards the Holy Spirit present in the lives of children of God that he calls for their deaths; in the name of righteousness. When our children hear such words, the white noise of the world beings to whisper in their ears that people don’t count. That is is ok to bully someone because the are different. Because they might be a boy who likes boys or a girl who likes girls. The white noise says they are missing the Sprit of the Holy. The white noise says to throw rocks and make fun. Then when that beloved child of God ends up killing themselves, then the world is better off. Words of hate that denigrate the Holy Spirit in any of God’s children, especially words which claim to be proclaimed in the same name of the Holy are words that proclaim in reality “Let Jesus be cursed!”

Friends, there are so many sprits in this world that are keeping us from recognizing that the grace of God in Jesus Christ is open and available to everyone. That all who proclaim “Jesus is Lord” are gifted by the Holy Spirit. There is so much white noise telling us and telling others to get to the back of the line. You do not matter. Your voice is not important. You have no gifts that can make this world better.

(Scene 3: The Spirit Strikes Back)

Among the new believers in Corinth, Paul had to remind them that they were all considered parts of the body of Christ. That they all had gifts to offer the body. Gifts given to them by the very power of God’s Holy Sprit. The one and same Spirit that was promised to them by Christ Jesus. The one and same Spirit that descended on the beloved son. The one and same Sprit that cried upon the cross. The one and same Sprit that exploded the stone that sealed a tomb. The one and same Sprit that descended on that house during the feast of pentecost. The one and same Spirit that entered them as they took that first breath of new life after emerging from the waters of baptism. The one and same Spirit that proclaims, “Jesus is Lord.”

Paul tells the believers in Corinth that they all have gifts. That poor and dirty one who comes to the meal late has the gift of preaching. That the repentant and generous slave owner has the gift of knowledge. That the Greek has the gift of tongues. That the Jew has the gift of interpretation. That the man has the gift of prophecy. That the woman has the gift of miracles. That because of embracing the foolishness of the cross all are made foolish. By joining God in weakness all are made weak. By becoming low and despised they join the God who came to dwell among them; and in doing so participate in a new wisdom, live in a new strength, can boast in an assurance that they are one with a God who loves them beyond any of the world’s imaging. That they have the power of the Holy Spirit, and are empowered to work of the common good of all of God’s children.

(Scene 4: A New Hope)

Sisters and brothers, you have been given gifts of the Holy Spirit! Today is Pentecost and we remember that the Holy Spirit is a spirit that is alive and moving in our world today. That despite all of the white noise in the world, we have been called out and given gifts that are given to us by the grace of God. By proclaiming “Jesus is Lord” we are given a power that enables us to say to the world that hate and brokenness are not of God. Gifts that allow us to sit with another who is in pain and is suffering. Gifts that give us the ability to say that everyone is a beloved Child of the Most High God.

The gifts of the Spirit do not discriminate. Children have them. Adults have them. African-Americans have them. Karen have them. Chin have them. Phillipinos, Japanese, Hispanics and Euro-Americans have them. Straights have them. Gays, Lesbians, Bi-sexuals, and Transgenders have them. Vicitms of abuse have them. The homeless have them. The rich have them. The working poor have them. Students and professors have them. Moms and dads; toddlers and snarky teenagers all have them. The Holy Spirit gives us all gifts to use for the common good. We are all part of the body and when one suffers all suffer. And like the body the parts that work compensate and assist a suffereing part until it is healed and can fully particiapte again. This is how it is in the Body of Christ.

Some have the gift of wisdom. Sone have the gift discernment. Some have the gift of being able to offer a smile at just the right time. Some have the gift of writing a letters that seem to have the words of encouragement some one needs. Some have the gift of teaching Adventures in Learning. Some have the gifts of music. Some have the gift of presence. Some have the gift of agitation. Some have the gift of listening. Some have the gift of talking. Some have the gifts of a life time of stories. Some have the gift of leadership. Some have the gift of working with hyper-active children. Some have the gift of working with cantankerous adults. Some have the gift of laughter. Friends, you may not be able to preach like Peter or you may not pray like Paul, but you can tell the love of Jesus, for the Spirit gifts us all.

(Epilogue)

The hot wind was still blowing when the time came for the main event. People were beginning to get on edge. The humidity was starting to choke the crowd. They were getting restless. And then out came a girl in a special chair. She look out at the crowd. Slowly as they began to see the girl in the special chair on the stage the began to quiet down. This is not what they had expected. They came to see the winner of the contest held by the radio station. They came to hear the voice they had heard on the radio.The voice that soared and told a story just by holding a note. They did not come to see a special needs kid singing songs. But then Maggie opened her mouth. “I see trees of green, red roses too. I see ‘em bloom, for me and you. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.” As she sang the words pour out and people began recognize the voice they heard over the airwaves. The words of the song that declared how beautiful the world is began to infect the people and soon they all began to join Maggie. They began to experience the gift of healing she brought. They began to experience the gift of hope she embodied. They forgot about the special chair, and the girl who could not walk and began to cheer for the girl who helped them discover gifts are present where least expected. Who helped them discover that the gifts we are given are more than enough.