Preaching with a broken heart: August 25

August 28, 2024

 Year B, Pentecost
14
                                     Psalm 34:15-22
& John 6:56-69
                                             

I can’t remember
where I read it, some important preaching professor no doubt— said that
preachers must preach from our scars and not our wounds.  The idea is that we don’t unload our issues
onto our congregation.  We can talk about
that which troubles us, but only after we have reached some resolution.  It’s wise advice, and advice I have followed
for many years.  But like all sage advice,
there are exceptions.  One of my very
dear friends died of lung cancer last Saturday. 
She was my first priest friend and then became my go to for all things.  We started a writing group together and many
years later, we wrote a book together about our experiences with illness and
our irreverent prayers that came out of those illnesses. 

Unfortunately her
lung cancer returned while we were writing. 
Even after she was moved to stage 4 lung cancer, she continued to preach
and write.  She wrote about the axiom of
preaching from our scars rather than our wounds. She said she no longer had the
luxury of preaching from scars—because her wounds would not heal.  That made sense given her situation, but I
thought I would stick with that advice until I couldn’t anymore.

Then I read the
psalm for today.  “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and
will save those whose spirits are crushed.” 
When people have asked me how I am over the last week, my answer has
typically been, “My heart is broken.” 
Obviously this is not the first grief I have experienced in my
life.  But it’s been particularly acute.  She was someone I communicated with multiple
times a day.  She knew the worst things
about me and celebrated the best things. 
 I like to think I did the same
for her.  A friend of mine who is a grief
counselor said that when you lose someone that close it’s like someone cuts a
hole out of a piece of a quilt and that quilt is the story of your life….it’s
like part of your story is gone and you don’t really know how to start writing
again.

I am not afraid to
admit to myself or you that I am angry at God. I know that good people die
tragically long before their time, every minute of every day.  There are some clergy out there who preach
the prosperity Gospel.  That is the idea
that if you are good, if you love and serve God and of course give money to
that preacher, good things will come to you. You will be compensated not only
with a good life, but also with material goods. 
It’s a complete heresy and contrary to so much of scripture, but it’s a
convenient message and a popular one if that is what you need to believe. 

Yet this Psalm
shows us that’s not how it always works. 
“The Lord is near the
brokenhearted…”
That means followers of God still have their hearts broken,
sometimes over and over again… It then
says that “Many are the troubles of the righteous
…”  It doesn’t get more direct than that.   Good people, righteous have troubles, many
troubles.
Most
people are not comfortable calling themselves righteous. We associate it with being
self righteous. Or we just don’t think we are worthy of being called righteous.
In the Bible righteousness is more about the relationship between the person
and God, or the person and others.  It’s
right relationship.  It’s ok to associate
yourself with the righteous—even if you have not yet achieved perfection.

 
Unfortunately suffering is a reality for most us.  No one goes through life without suffering.
  Sometimes I even wonder if being Christian
brings us more suffering.  It’s not a
great advertisement for Christianity.  I
would never be an effective mega pastor. 
It’s not that being Christian brings more bad things upon us—it just
that our hearts become more malleable. We are more vulnerable to heartbreak.  If you never love, if you never open your
heart to another, your heart will never be broken. 

So what does it
mean that God is close to those who are broken hearted? That probably brings
comfort to many, but I worry that shames some people. They think, if I don’t
feel God’s presence when I suffer or when I am broken hearted, there must be something
wrong with me.  I must not be righteous
enough. 

The reason that
Elizabeth and I decided to write our book together is because we both realized
that when we were in the hospital—when we were the most vulnerable, we felt
the furthest from God.  We could not
pray.  We decided to write prayers that
we would have wanted to pray, or we would have wanted others to pray for us.
Please, hear me when I say, it’s ok if you when you suffer, you don’t feel
close to God.  It’s not your fault. You
are not a bad Christian.  You don’t lack
righteousness.  Sometimes, you just need
the prayers of others to lift you—which is why a Christian community is so
vital.  The prayers of others can carry
you when your own prayers feel as though they are falling on deaf ears, or when
you can’t pray—when your broken heart doesn’t bring you any closer to God.

Over the last
week, I realized that I was talking to God all the time. I was raised Roman
Catholic.  We were taught that the saints
interceded for us on behalf of God.  As
Episcopalians, we believe that all Christians are saints…not just the perfect Christians
who rarely sin, but all Christians.  My
friend Elizabeth always advocated for those she loved, and she didn’t care who
she upset doing it.  I realized that
she’s with God, interceding in all my prayers. It made me want to pray more,
talk to God more. That was one of the last gifts she gave to me.

We are on our 5th
week of the 6th chapter of John’s Gospel.  We have been hearing about Jesus being the
bread of life for 6 weeks.  It’s a long
time to talk about the bread of life.  In
our reading for today, the disciples said, “This
teaching is difficult, who can accept it.”
Jesus then said a few more
difficult things, because he was never one to make things easy on people.  Then, realizing that many people in the crowd
had left because it was too much for them, he asked his 12 disciples if they
also wanted to leave. Peter replied, “Lord,
to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

There are many
times I have struggled with my faith over the years.  In the end, I believe that while Jesus never
makes my life easier, Jesus has the words of eternal life.  And while so many people in this world come
and go, Jesus has the words of eternal life. Jesus will save those whose
spirits are crushed.