Sermon: Third Sunday after Epiphany

January 24, 2010

The Third Sunday after Epiphany

Luke 4:14-21

Holy Trinity Parish, Decatur, Georgia

The Rev. Dr. Deborah Silver, assisting priest

My joy is gone; grief is upon me, my heart is sick.

Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land:

“Is the Lord not in Zion? Is her King not in her?” …

For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn,

and dismay has taken hold of me. Is there no balm in Gilead?

Is there no physician there?

Why then has the health of my poor people not been restored?

O that my head were a spring of water,

and my eyes a fountain of tears,

so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people!

These words of the Prophet Jeremiah could well be a prayer of lament coming directly out of earthquake-ravaged Haiti. In fact, when I consider the question “Is there no healing balm in Gilead?” My mind makes the connection to the wounded and hurting people of Port au Prince and other places who lie in wait for medicine to treat infections or soothe the pain.

And yet, there are signs of hope emerging in Port au Prince – a 23 year old man is pulled out of the rubble, alive and in good shape, after 11 days to the cheers of rescuers and dozens of onlookers. The port has been repaired enough that ships are finally able to unload the aid that is so desperately needed. At Food for the Poor headquarters in the heart of Port au Prince, thousands are being fed a hot meal of rice, beans and chicken at the very feeding station where Ed Buckley and Bill Deneke helped serve the hungry just last month. Differences of politics, religion, ethnicity and nationality are put aside as people all over the world work together to bring aid and comfort to the poorest of the poor, the weakest of the weak.

However, there is still cause for continued lament. There are, what Anderson Cooper from CNN calls “preventable deaths” still occurring – deaths from infections that could have been treated if only antibiotics had arrived in time. Countless numbers of newly orphaned children now occupy the city and those who are injured lie in hospital tents with no parent to comfort them and nowhere to go.

And so the words of Jeremiah continue to ring in our ears and hope is threatened by encroaching cynicism and despair. We begin to feel “compassion fatigue” and perhaps we tune in to the news far less frequently or not at all. We may even hear some say that Haitians are different than us. The people have always lived in poverty, their government has always been ineffective and corrupt and will continue to be so regardless of what we do. Cynicism threatens to diminish our hope.

But just when hope is running low and turning a blind eye tempts us, we are graced with today’s lectionary readings. Jesus announces his mission to the poor and the oppressed and the Apostle Paul reminds us of our calling as members of Christ’s body. Their words are challenging but also promise renewed hope.

Paul presents us with one of his most well-known and effective metaphors of Christian community, the image of the body. The word that is translated as “member” in the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible can also be translated as “part” or “limb.” Paul reminds us that in the human body, the organs don’t have turf wars. The heart does not say to the kidneys, “You guys aren’t as important as I,” or “That’s not my job.” No part of the body gets offended by the behavior of another part. Every organ has its job, but no organ is above doing another’s job if the primary organ becomes infected or damaged. Parts of the brain can learn to do the jobs of other parts after an injury has occurred. If the body is attacked by an infection or injury, the entire body sends all of its resources to the site of the wound or infection. The objective is well defined. The well being of the whole body is at stake.

After I graduated from seminary, I worked for a year as a chaplain-resident at a large hospital in Dayton, Ohio. I was assigned to the cardio-thoracic unit where by-pass surgeries were performed on a daily basis. To my surprise I was invited to observe an open-heart surgery. The profound lesson that I learned from this was that there are no turf wars in the Operating Room. No one says, “That’s not my job.” No one passes the buck to someone else. Each person is dependent on the others. They are truly members of one body, working together for one goal: the health, healing and well being of the patient.

As individuals we are not called to be Christ or little Christs, let alone saviors of the world. Those who suffer from this misconception end up burned out and bitter. Rather, we are called to see ourselves as the embodiment of Christ in the world, not primarily as individuals but as local communities of faith, which belong to a larger whole. We are called to be members of a body, the Body of Christ, and to play our part – not more, not less. With this in mind, we need not be overwhelmed by the needs of Haiti or any other part of our hurting world. We may also discover that when called upon, we are given the courage to act as members of Christ’s body.

During World War II a small village in France made an extraordinary statement about solidarity of the faith community. The village of Le Chambon consisted primarily of Huguenots. As the Nazi presence in France increased and deportation of French Jews began, this village took a great risk for its faith. Jewish children were allowed to come there and live with the villagers in their homes.

The children became part of almost every family in town. Since people in small towns know everyone else and their children, there was no way for the rescue to proceed without the support of everyone. One small admission to the Gestapo or Vichy authorities would have betrayed the cause. No one wavered. The only person arrested was the pastor, Andre Trocme, who continued to preach against fascism despite the risks. The children attended school, played in the park, and were visible in every way.

It may be that even the German soldiers occupying the town later in the war chose to look the other way. Everyone in town did their part, and more than one thousand children were saved.

The good news is that we can respond to the tragedies in the world because our sense of identity lies not just in the role we play, nor the status, nor the reward our role brings, but in the sense of oneness with the life of Christ which is the life of God – and ultimately the life of all that is.

The part of the Body of Christ that is Haiti is severely wounded. And so, we are wounded too. The tears of our Haitian brothers and sisters are our tears. Their pain is our pain. Their prayers are our prayers. And their recovery will be our recovery. Now is the time when the whole body comes together and sends all of its available resources to the site of the wound – to fight infection, to promote healing and to make the body whole again.

Holy Trinity is responding to the needs of our brothers and sisters in Haiti. We are offering intercessory prayers. We are putting our money and our resources together and giving to relief organizations like Food for the Poor or Episcopal Relief and Development. The people of Port au Prince are being given hot meals and clean water. Infections are being treated. Surgeries are being performed with less pain. And eventually new houses, new schools and new clinics and hospitals will be built and a new and better city will emerge.

“Is there no balm in Gilead for the hurt of my people”? Yes. There is a balm that heals the body and soothes the soul. The balm is Jesus Christ who was anointed by the Holy Spirit to preach good news to the poor, the oppressed and the wounded of the world. That spirit is no less upon all of us who proclaim Jesus as Lord. We leave here today renewed and empowered to serve as the Body of Christ in the world. Praise be to God!