This Sunday's Sermon
December 7, 1997
"Signs Of Advent:
Healing Messengers"
Malachi 3:1-4
We almost always saw Dave and Bev together.
Sandy and I first met the couple one summer when they cleared land to build a vacation home a few lots down from where we have a place on the lake in New Hampshire. We discovered that Dave and Bev were not only neighbors of ours at the lake, but in fact lived the rest of the year just a few miles from where we were in Massachusetts. We had a lot in common, and so became friends.
Dave and Bev were a rather skillful and energetic team, raising up a beautiful six-sided log home virtually by themselves. Once completed, the whole neighborhood marveled at its beauty, and Dave and Bev dreamed about the day in the not too distant future when they could retire and live there full time.
Last spring, however, that dream was forever broken. There was a terrible automobile accident in which Dave was instantly killed. When Sandy and I arrived in New Hampshire for vacation last summer, we were struck by the fact that it was probably the first time we'd ever seen Beverly alone.
And she was SO alone.
As we visited with her one afternoon, Bev tearfully shared with us about, not only the loss of her husband, but the loss of many other things too. While family and friends had given her support in the days and weeks around the time of the funeral, most had now returned to their lives, and she was alone most of the time. The other couples she and Dave had socialized with now seemed unable to know how to relate with her, and she was more and more left out of their plans. It hurt Bev deeply to see the two or three couples who'd been their closest friends go off on a trip together, knowing that she and Dave would have gone too, if he'd been alive. But she was no longer a part of a couple. And the friends obviously didn't know how to handle that.
Bev even felt like she'd lost a part of her church relationship. Her Pastor, who'd been wonderful to her at the time of the accident had moved on to other families in crisis. Bev didn't blame him for that, in fact, she understood how hard it was for Paul. And the same was true of the congregation. After having showered her with attention for a considerable period, their energy level had dwindled and been re-directed to more current emergency and personal needs.
Bev understood all this. It was just human nature. But it left her feeling very abandoned and all alone.
It was while Bev was telling us about all this that I asked her if she'd ever heard of the Stephen Ministry. She said she hadn't, so I explained to her about this highly organized and well-structured ministry of Christian caregiving. I told her we were starting one in our church, and she said she wished they had one at her church.
I wished they did, too, because Bev really needed someone who could provide the kind of devoted Christian friendship that creates a setting in which God can begin to heal even badly broken hearts like Bev's.
Beverly's story leads us to the key thought of today's Scripture lesson from the Old Testament book of Malachi. Here, the prophet teaches an important spiritual principle about how it is made possible for God to come to people - like Beverly and others - in their need and distress.
God always sends a messenger before him.
This season of Advent is not about an isolated event in history when God just sort of dropped out of heaven and came plopping down upon the world. You see, most of us, at times in our lives, face human experiences and dilemmas that are so deep, so high, so confusing, and so rough that its easy to miss the God-presence in our lives even when its right under our nose.
And so God sends messengers - ordinary human beings - to prepare his way.
You probably know that this prophecy in Malachi was specifically fulfilled in the person of John, Jesus' cousin, the one that turned out to be a Baptist. Luke 3 tells us that John went into all the region surrounding the Jordan River, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And John quoted another prophet, Isaiah, saying:
"The voice of one crying in the wilderness, 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be lifted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'" Luke 3:4b-6
What a marvelous passage of Scripture! As always, the Bible here demonstrates its uncanny sensitivity to the reality of human life. Why, if we are going to help prepare the way for people to discover God's healing grace, then we must recognize where people live. And this passage teaches that people spend a lot of their lives in four very real human experiences:
Trying to make our way through deep valleys.
Facing challenges that seem like high mountains.
Not knowing what to do or where to turn when life turns into a confusing maze.
Hurting from the bruises and abrasions that rough up our lives.
And then, the Scripture tells us what we can do to be messengers of grace and healing to people facing times like these:
We can try to help lift up the valleys, lower the mountains, sort out the confusion, and soothe peoples' wounds.
During this season of Advent, I hope you'll spend some time thinking and praying about how you can be a messenger of healing in the life of another person.
My phone rang on a Sunday night a few weeks ago.
It was Beverly.
She had talked with her Pastor about Stephen Ministry and he explained they did not have one at their church because of the expense involved and because of the tremendous effort it takes to train people and organize the effort.
Not to be thwarted, Bev found an Episcopal Church in a neighboring town that does have a Stephen Ministry. She contacted the leaders there, and very graciously, they assigned Bev a Stephen Minister - a woman about her own age, also a widow.
What Bev wanted to tell me on the telephone was about how healing that relationship had become. "She calls me pretty regularly and asks how I'm doing. She doesn't seem to mind if I'm a mess and having a real low day. Sometimes we go out to lunch and talk about politics, and sometimes we sit at my kitchen table and I just blubber for an hour about how much I miss Dave. She listens, and understands. She doesn't try to fix it. She's just there for me."
That past Friday, Bev told me, was her and Dave's wedding anniversary. She was dreading the day. But on Thursday, her Stephen Minister called and told Bev to be ready at 6 o'clock on Friday because they were going out to dinner together. Later, they returned to Bev's home and looked at some family photos including wedding pictures of Bev and Dave. They cried together. And they laughed together, too.
"It felt like I got over a really high mountain that night," Bev said.
Every valley shall be lifted, every mountain made low. And all flesh shall see the salvation of God!
That's God's promise when we give ourselves to the task of loving other people as Christians. When we are there for them in the valleys. When we truly listen as they face mountains. When we support people as they sort out life's crooked confusion. When we soothe the hurtful wounds of life.
The play Les Miserables ends with a beautiful song that says in one place, "To love another person is to touch the face of God!"
I believe that with all my heart.
The last time I spoke with Beverly, she'd decided to donate the money needed to start a Stephen Ministry in her own church. She's donating the money in memory of David, and because she knows first hand how important it is for Christians to raise valleys, lower mountains, sort out confusion, and soothe human hurts.
In so doing, we prepare the way for God the healer to touch a person's soul.
Dear friends, go this week, and prepare the way of the Lord!