Remember – you are enough
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
30 June 2024
The Rev. Margaret Dyer-Chamberlain
May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the actions of our lives be acceptable in your sight, oh God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
It is tempting, in listening to today’s Gospel story, to conclude that it is all about the amazing healing powers of Jesus. Certainly this story is about healing and it’s one of many that shares with us Jesus’ ministry as a healer. There is no doubt that Jesus is incredible in this story – there are crowds pressing in around him, multiple people are asking for his help, there is weeping and wailing - and Jesus calmly stays with the crowd, listening, helping people, healing people, providing reassuring words, asking for no kudos or credit. He reaches out to everyone – women, children, the disciples, leaders of the synagogue, the assembled crowd. He seems to be able to meet everyone where they are. Quintessential Jesus, right?
But I think there’s something more going on here. And the reason I say this is because of the words Jesus shares with the people in this story. First, to the woman who has been suffering for twelve years, he says “…..Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” And to the people who are so worried about Jairus’ daughter, he says to them – “Do not fear, only believe.”
I don’t think Jesus is mandating that faith is some kind of prerequisite for being worthy of healing here. Or that belief is required to push fear or illness away. I think what Jesus is getting at is that faith and belief – well - they help us with the troubles of our lives. We can choose to focus on fear – and fear is ever present in our world – but we can also choose to focus on belief and faith and hope. That’s what Jesus is stressing here. And there is such abundance and freedom in that – because - rather that feeling overwhelmed and small and vulnerable, we can begin to see the possibilities that are present for us. We can be healed in ways large and small. We can imagine the creative options of new life that we might not have noticed before. We can give ourselves a bit of a break as we deal with the hard parts of like – we can rest, even if just for moments, in a place of hope.
The poetic words of our reading from Lamentations speak to this idea also – by reminding us of the powerful help that comes to us from our reliance on and trust in God. “This I call to mind” –the reading proclaims – “and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, God’s mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning...”
I’ve thought a lot about this last part – mercies that are new every morning. How great is that. I’ve been promising myself that I’m going to remember this – God’s mercies - new every morning – particularly the next time I have one of those sleepless nights full of worry about something or other. Anyone else have those nights?
I’m also reassured by the fact that Lamentations signals to us that all of this is a process……it doesn’t necessarily happen quickly – rather, it unfolds over our lives. The reading mentions that “The Lord is good to those who wait for God, to the soul that seeks God.” This strikes me as a wise and practical insight – and it reminds us that it’s ok to be waiting, seeking, even sitting alone in silence (which also mentioned in the reading). That sounds like ordinary life to me. It’s a realistic observation about where we might be at any given time in our journey of faith.
Paul’s letter to the Corinthians provides us with some additional real life counsel to build on what we glean from Lamentations. Commentaries I read about this passage noted that Paul’s advice here is often used in stewardship drives – which focus very specifically on gifts and pledges. I didn’t read Paul’s words in that way – instead, I took them more broadly – as referring to how we think about the gifts we bring to one another and to our communities and families and world as people of faith. Paul noted “For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has – not according to what one does not have.” This makes me think about the abundant nature of faith and hope and love – and it causes me to remember that each of us, wherever we are on our journey of life and faith, each of us is “enough.” Each of us has unique gifts. Particularly when it comes to reaching out to one another in spreading empathy and understanding and love. Each of us has enough to share with one another – because we are created in the image of God and God is always with us.
Whenever I think about this idea of being “enough” – I think of my time as a volunteer chaplain with Sojourn Chaplaincy at San Francisco General Hospital. Doing chaplaincy at the General was what led me to become a deacon – some of you might recall that about my journey, formed in this parish. I had a wonderful instructor at Sojourn, an Episcopal priest named Will Hocker – he just recently passed away. Will was fond of saying to us – as we shared our chaplaincy challenges – “Remember – you are enough.” I have to confess that I didn’t really understand what he was talking about. Until one memorable day.
I had been called to one of the ICU units at the General by the staff. They were worried about a patient who was very ill and who could not stop crying. They thought he might need a chaplain. And so I went to the ICU to sit with him.
He was a man probably in his 50s, and his prognosis was very poor. We don’t always know, as chaplains, the exact diagnosis of the people we visit – all that I recall knowing at the time was that things were very serious. When the man understood that a chaplain was present, he started to talk – in a kind of stream of consciousness. His dialogue was all about how much he feared death. There was, honestly, hardly an opportunity to get a word in. And so I listened. For quite some time. I remember thinking of things to say, comments to make, but there really were no openings. He just talked and talked. And I continued to listen.
He finally quieted – he seemed very tired - and I asked him if I could keep him in my prayers. I think that question represented some of the only words I spoke during our interaction. He whispered “yes” in response. And then he fell asleep, and after a few moments I left his side.
I went back to the chaplaincy office, feeling exhausted, completely inadequate, and very sad. I was trying to figure out what to write for my visit notes and what to say about follow-up for this patient, when my mentor Will walked into the room. I shared with him how I was feeling, and particularly what a crummy chaplain I felt I had been.
Will looked right at me and repeated the familiar phrase I had heard before – “You are enough. And he added – “That visit was enough. You need to go home now to take a walk or read a book or pray. Whatever you do to ground yourself.”
I tried to debate Will a little – saying that there were other patients to see, I had hours left on my volunteer shift – but he was firm, and so I took his advice and went home.
It was only after reflecting on Will’s wisdom in the ensuing days and weeks, that I began to see the metaphor for life in Christ that he had outlined for me. I continued to wish that I could have done more in that visit, but I also found myself beginning to rest in Paul’s words – that whatever gift I might have provided was acceptable. To use Will’s words, I was enough. I came to realize that it’s easy to fall into striving for perfectionism about life and being in community and helping one another, but the truth is that not one of us is perfect – and at the same time, each of us is enough. Created in the image of God, and watched over by God every moment of our imperfect lives.
And so, when I circle back to this Gospel story and what Jesus teaches us in it – I continue to think less about healing miracles (which don’t get me wrong, are wonderful when they happen) but I hold more strongly in my heart the example and image of Jesus that is conveyed to us in this story. The example that is held up for each of us to consider in our daily lives. This story causes me to ponder - How might we be a little more like Jesus each day? How might we be a bit more present? How might we strive to meet each person where they are? How might we try to help those around us when we can? How might we choose to hold onto faith and belief rather than fear? And how might we think about all of this by believing, really believing, that God’s abundant and creative love is always with us, and that we are truly and always enough?
Amen.