ialac - a wave of possibility
As I worked with two of the Lectionary texts for this Sunday, I Kings 17:8-16 and Luke 7:1-11, I was struck by what great stories both texts offer. Both are stories of beloved leaders (Elijah and Jesus) reaching out to the vulnerable (widows) and offering (miraculous) healing.
Of course, such stories are not very realistic. Despite the demonstrable faith of real mean and women in the year of our Lord 2007, some mothers and their children are hungry. Millions of widows are hungry in the Sudan. Some will die, today, from hunger. Not every prayer of mothers who, in good faith, demand healing for their dying child are answered with the resurrection of a dead child. The miraculous turn of events witnessed in the ministries of Elijah and Jesus is great for storytelling, but what does it mean for daily life?
Backing away from the miracle a bit, I am struck by the witness of both men to the most vulnerable in their community. Surely there is in these stories an invitation to be attentive to those most vulnerable in our world today. Setting aside the preposterous aspects of the stories, a justice oriented sermon could easily emerge. Perhaps that’s where I should land.
But I find myself wondering about the role of miracles in our world of rational thought. Do we dare to believe in possibility? Do we dare to wonder if hunger is really necessary? Do we dare to imagine a world without widows? And most difficult of all, do we dare to believe that Elijah or Jesus - or the Spirit dancing today - could love us enough suspend the laws of nature on our behalf?
After all of the lofty platitudes and scholarly inquiry, I come down to the most simple of questions. Am I – are we - loveable? Or maybe the question is whether or not I can believe that I am loveable if the laws of nature don’t heed my prayer.
As I fight with the copier (whoever knew the things needed to be fed toner?) and realize there are still unanswered phone messages (read: yes, I’m running behind – again!), I found myself waking up this morning not with the list of tasks to which I should attend but rather with the mystery of these incredible stories. I laid in bed (ok, briefly!) reveling in these tales. Elijah and the widow discovering endless bread is such a classic and wonderful tale. Jesus touching the widow’s lifeless (yes, dead) child and instructing him to “rise!” is just so outlandishly wonderful! Pedantic stories are just that. These stories, however, offer the haunting quality of a good story.
Story is a ‘wave of possibility’, a refreshing if frightening wave for which I give thanks.
