December 1998 Issue

"Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?" An incredible question, the more so because it comes from the lips of John The Baptizer. Not John! Anyone but John! It was John who said, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." (John 1:29) It was John who heard the voice from heaven, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." (Mt. 3:17) It was John who saw the heavens open and the Spirit of God descending upon Jesus like a dove. (Mt. 3:16) It was John who said "He must increase, but I must decrease." (Jn. 3:30) Is it possible that John could come to the place where his faith began to crumble?

The structure of Matthew's Gospel provides a clue. Chapters 8 and 9 are essentially vignette stories of deliverance: demons are cast out, lepers are cleansed, a storm is quieted, a paralytic is made whole, a centurion's servant is restored, a ruler's daughter is alive after being dead, a woman's hemorrhage is stopped. The list runs on. Wherever Jesus went his power of deliverance is felt by persons in every circumstance. In chapter 10, the disciples are sent out to spread the good news that the kingdom of heaven is at hand and as they go they are to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers and cast out demons. (10:7,8)

And John hears about all of this from the depths of the prison. In that context, we can begin to understand just a bit the agony of his question, the terrible crisis of faith. In essence he is saying, "If deliverance is truly the heart of the gospel of God then why am I in this wretched prison? Are you really the one?"

There are times in the lives of all of us when things go well. We rejoice, we give thanks to God, we look eagerly to the future. But there are times in the lives of all of us when just the opposite is the case. We dream dreams and they turn to nightmares; we make plans which encounter such obstacles that they come to naught. We know this in our minds, but in the heart it is often difficult to accept. We write the duality of life in the marriage vows, "plenty and want, joy and sorrow, sickness and health," but it is hard to accept when the nether experiences come. We, like John, are filled with faith; and then the faith crumbles when we are plunged into the prisons of pain in ourselves and those we love.

The answer of Jesus to the disciples of John confirms the fact that the stories of deliverance are real. As we hear it, we remember the ancient word of Isaiah, "Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing for joy." (Is. 35:5,6) At first hearing, the words seem almost cruel; they say that deliverance is everywhere, the kingdom is here. But these words are followed by what has been called the most neglected of the Beatitudes, "blessed is he who takes no offense at me." (Mt. 11:6) John dies in the prison. The deliverance is evident, but it is not universal. Not everyone in Judea and Galilee was cured. Rather, the deliverances were tokens of the Resurrection. Every person that Jesus healed did eventually die. "Blessed is he who takes no offense at me."

The plain fact is that not every situation gets better, at least not on its own terms. We are creatures who are born, live and die. It is here that we are reminded that healing and curing, though often thought of as identical, are not the same. In the biblical sense they often go together but not always. John dies in the prison. We can all be healed and cured; but the deeper truth is that we can be healed even when no curing is possible. Paul knew that. In great distress, he besought the Lord that the "thorn in the flesh" be taken away. It never was. But he experienced real healing in discovering the deep meaning of the word of the Lord, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (II Cor. 12:9)

As pastors, we have the marvelous opportunity to be healers in the biblical sense. We rejoice in the miracles of medicine and the cures that are accomplished. We believe in the power of prayer in bringing relief to the sick and injured. But at a deeper level, we know that we are channels of the grace of God that brings true healing even when there is no cure whether physical or situational. The blessing we are privileged to bring to those intrusted to us is to enable them to "take no offense" when the "cure" does not come. The true deliverance is the transformation of all of us, pastor and parishioner alike, in the healing power of God's grace which is sufficient for us. We and our people will certainly come to the place, not once but many times, when we will cry out with the Psalmist and our Lord, "My God, why?" But with the healing power of God's grace, which is sufficient, we are enabled by faith to know that nothing "will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom. 8:39)

In this joyous season of Advent, as we look forward to the coming of the Child of Bethlehem, we remember that in that time as in our time there is hurt, dismay, fear, bitterness and anguish all around. So it is that we give thanks that Jesus the Christ was born in a manger, had not a place to lay his head, suffered, died, and rose again to bring life and immortality to light through the gospel (II Tim. 1:10) that we may live in and through him. This is the pastoral word that heals and renews, now and always.

William B. Oglesby, Jr. (deceased)