The Bent Made Straight
Sermon
Topsy-Turvy: Living In The Biblical World
Gospel Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third) Cycle C
It's Saturday morning, a Sabbath day in Israel, and Jesus once again finds himself teaching in the synagogue -- teaching probably about the Kingdom of God, his favorite subject. Like any good teacher Jesus uses a lot of stories, a lot of illustrations. So, you want to know what the Kingdom of God is all about? It's about a bent woman being made straight.
Jesus has seen her out of the corner of his eye. You probably couldn't miss her; she was bent over with some kind of misshapen spine. Now most of us, when we see a broken person like that -- bent over -- scarred up -- we look away, don't we? Not Jesus. He called her over.
It's as if he were saying to the synagogue crowd, "We've been talking about the kingdom. Now you watch. This is what the kingdom is all about." And he says to the bent woman, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." And immediately she stood up straight. The kingdom of God is wholeness and healing -- for all of us.
How many bent-over, scarred-up people do you know in your life? Let me tell you about Nathan. Nathan had come to Mayo from Bethphage Homes in Axtell, Nebraska, because he had cancer, a cancer that had eaten away at his face. Where you and I have a nose and a mouth and a jaw, Nathan simply had a gaping hole. When he was transferred to a nursing home, they put a white cloth over his face.
A pastor would visit Nathan and bring him communion, a tiny fragment of a wafer dissolved in a little bit of wine. Nathan liked to talk theology, but of course it was slowgoing. He would have to type out everything on a typewriter. After about six months Nathan died. Later there was an article about him in the Bethphage magazine, written by the chaplain there who knew him well. He described Nathan as a brilliant man, having a Cadillac mind. The only problem was, he said, Nathan didn't have a clutch. He couldn't engage this mind, couldn't use it, and that's why he lived for so many years at Bethphage, which was a home for the developmentally disabled.
Jesus straightened the bent woman, and now Jesus has restored Nathan's face and given him a clutch. That's what the Kingdom is; it's wholeness and healing.
Jim was about forty years old, a single man, a regular worshiper in a local congregation. He had spent some time in the state mental hospital, but re-entered life in the community back in the 1970s when a lot of those mental institutions were emptied. Jim also had some physical disabilities; in fact, he suffered from the same disease as the Elephant Man, if you ever saw that movie. All over his body, Jim had these bumps and protrusions.
Out in the community, Jim would attract a lot of stares, a lot of quickly averted glances. But he found a home in that congregation. And every Sunday he was there to receive the bread and the wine in his bumpy hands.
It was only recently that Jim died. Jesus straightened the bent woman; Jesus has restored Nathan's face and given him a clutch; and Jesus has now smoothed out the bumps of Jim's skin, made his mind whole. That's what the Kingdom is; it's wholeness and healing.
Doctors in that congregation said that Jim had those bumps and protrusions not only on the outside of his body, but also all over on the inside, detectable only by x-rays. But, you know, it's harder for you and me; our crookedness, our scars, our bumps, our wounds are not only oftentimes invisible to each other, but they can't even be detected by x-rays.
You see, my crookedness is not as obvious as the Bent Woman's. Your wounds are not the gaping hole in the face that Nathan's was. Our scars, our bumps are not there on our skin as they were for Jim. But each and every one of us in this worship room has a brokenness that cries out to be healed.
What is it for you? An anger buried down deep inside you, an anger so deep, you don't even have a clue as to its origin. But every once in a while, it comes rushing up and bursting out of you, and those who are near you -- even your loved ones, maybe especially your loved ones -- are scorched by it. Follow the trail of anger inward, the experts tell us, and there you will find the small, still voice of pain. A wound, an invisible wound.
Your brokenness, your anger, can be healed. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not completely. That may have to wait for the coming of the kingdom. But one day, in the kingdom, your wound, your brokenness, your anger, will be completely healed. You will be made entirely whole.
Perhaps your crookedness comes from being bent over with depression. Depression is a heavy, heavy burden, isn't it? William Styron, the author who wrote Sophie's Choice, suffered through clinical depression, and he wrote a book about it, Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness.
Some of us here this morning have also experienced clinical depression. All of us have had at least a wee little taste of it whenever we've "had the blues" or "felt a little down." Styron's depression began at about the same time that he gave up alcohol. He writes: "Although, as everyone should know, [alcohol] is a major depressant, it had never truly depressed me during my drinking career, acting instead as a shield against anxiety. Suddenly vanished, the great ally which for so long had kept my demons at bay, was no longer there to prevent those demons from beginning to swarm through the subconscious, and I was emotionally naked, vulnerable as I had never been before."
Depression can make us feel bent, but it, too, can be healed. That was Styron's experience. Maybe not completely, maybe not perfectly; but you can live again, made somewhat straight again. And one day, in the kingdom, your crookedness, your depression, will be completely healed. You will be made entirely whole.
Oh, this story of the bent woman made straight is just chock full of good news! Because, you see, it's not just the bent woman who gets healed. The bent synagogue leader is made whole as well.
Do you see how he is bent, how he is misshapen and wounded, too? The synagogue leader gets mad at Jesus for healing on the Sabbath: he's bent out of shape! Indignantly, he foams at Jesus: "The Sabbath is a day of rest when no work ought to be done; healing is work; Jesus should not have done it. You want healing, you should come back on Monday." All these legalistic "ought's," all these legalistic "should's."
Jesus comes back to him with a few "ought's" of his own, but these are gospel "ought's." "If it's okay to untie your donkey and lead him to water on the Sabbath," Jesus says, "ought not it also to be okay for this bent woman to be untied, to be released, to be set free, from her bondage on the Sabbath?"
And then, Luke tells us, "All [Jesus'] opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing." And I choose to believe that that "entire crowd" included the shamed synagogue leader -- that he who was so bent out of shape because Jesus healed on the Sabbath, that Jesus straightened him out, too.
Oh, and there's more good news, people! Did you notice how the woman received a new name? The people in the village, for eighteen years, had been calling her Bent Woman. She was defined by her brokenness. And what new name does Jesus now call her? "Daughter of Abraham!" A daughter of the promise! A daughter who inherits all the blessings of Abraham! It's a new identity. The woman is no longer labeled by her brokenness, but she has been named after the gift she has received.
It's like that young boy who was featured on 48 Hours, the Horse Boy from the Dominican Republic who had walked on all fours for his entire life because of a deformity in his knees. His healing, his restoration to wholeness, involved a surgical amputation of his legs and then being fitted with prosthetics, artificial legs, that allowed him to walk upright. And now they no longer call him Horse Boy.
No longer Bent Woman. No longer Horse Boy. No longer Elephant Man. No longer Man Without a Face. Jesus, in our baptism, has renamed us, too -- given us the name "Christian," because we belong to him.
What are those names of ours that Jesus can change? The Angry Man, the Depressed Woman, the Cheater, the Liar, the Adulterer, the Gossip, the Selfish One? In our baptisms we have all been given the new name, Christian, because we belong to Christ.
And we all know how this was made possible for us, don't we? In this section of Luke, Jesus has already set his face toward Jerusalem, he is still on his journey to the cross -- where he, he himself, will be bent over -- receiving the lashes on his back, carrying his own cross through the streets. He, he himself, will be tied up and nailed to the cross until he dies.
And then God the Father, in the most marvelous gift of the Resurrection, unties him from death, loosens the bonds, and Jesus stands up straight again!
All you Bent-Over Ones, hear your new name -- Christian -- and stand up straight!
Jesus has seen her out of the corner of his eye. You probably couldn't miss her; she was bent over with some kind of misshapen spine. Now most of us, when we see a broken person like that -- bent over -- scarred up -- we look away, don't we? Not Jesus. He called her over.
It's as if he were saying to the synagogue crowd, "We've been talking about the kingdom. Now you watch. This is what the kingdom is all about." And he says to the bent woman, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." And immediately she stood up straight. The kingdom of God is wholeness and healing -- for all of us.
How many bent-over, scarred-up people do you know in your life? Let me tell you about Nathan. Nathan had come to Mayo from Bethphage Homes in Axtell, Nebraska, because he had cancer, a cancer that had eaten away at his face. Where you and I have a nose and a mouth and a jaw, Nathan simply had a gaping hole. When he was transferred to a nursing home, they put a white cloth over his face.
A pastor would visit Nathan and bring him communion, a tiny fragment of a wafer dissolved in a little bit of wine. Nathan liked to talk theology, but of course it was slowgoing. He would have to type out everything on a typewriter. After about six months Nathan died. Later there was an article about him in the Bethphage magazine, written by the chaplain there who knew him well. He described Nathan as a brilliant man, having a Cadillac mind. The only problem was, he said, Nathan didn't have a clutch. He couldn't engage this mind, couldn't use it, and that's why he lived for so many years at Bethphage, which was a home for the developmentally disabled.
Jesus straightened the bent woman, and now Jesus has restored Nathan's face and given him a clutch. That's what the Kingdom is; it's wholeness and healing.
Jim was about forty years old, a single man, a regular worshiper in a local congregation. He had spent some time in the state mental hospital, but re-entered life in the community back in the 1970s when a lot of those mental institutions were emptied. Jim also had some physical disabilities; in fact, he suffered from the same disease as the Elephant Man, if you ever saw that movie. All over his body, Jim had these bumps and protrusions.
Out in the community, Jim would attract a lot of stares, a lot of quickly averted glances. But he found a home in that congregation. And every Sunday he was there to receive the bread and the wine in his bumpy hands.
It was only recently that Jim died. Jesus straightened the bent woman; Jesus has restored Nathan's face and given him a clutch; and Jesus has now smoothed out the bumps of Jim's skin, made his mind whole. That's what the Kingdom is; it's wholeness and healing.
Doctors in that congregation said that Jim had those bumps and protrusions not only on the outside of his body, but also all over on the inside, detectable only by x-rays. But, you know, it's harder for you and me; our crookedness, our scars, our bumps, our wounds are not only oftentimes invisible to each other, but they can't even be detected by x-rays.
You see, my crookedness is not as obvious as the Bent Woman's. Your wounds are not the gaping hole in the face that Nathan's was. Our scars, our bumps are not there on our skin as they were for Jim. But each and every one of us in this worship room has a brokenness that cries out to be healed.
What is it for you? An anger buried down deep inside you, an anger so deep, you don't even have a clue as to its origin. But every once in a while, it comes rushing up and bursting out of you, and those who are near you -- even your loved ones, maybe especially your loved ones -- are scorched by it. Follow the trail of anger inward, the experts tell us, and there you will find the small, still voice of pain. A wound, an invisible wound.
Your brokenness, your anger, can be healed. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not completely. That may have to wait for the coming of the kingdom. But one day, in the kingdom, your wound, your brokenness, your anger, will be completely healed. You will be made entirely whole.
Perhaps your crookedness comes from being bent over with depression. Depression is a heavy, heavy burden, isn't it? William Styron, the author who wrote Sophie's Choice, suffered through clinical depression, and he wrote a book about it, Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness.
Some of us here this morning have also experienced clinical depression. All of us have had at least a wee little taste of it whenever we've "had the blues" or "felt a little down." Styron's depression began at about the same time that he gave up alcohol. He writes: "Although, as everyone should know, [alcohol] is a major depressant, it had never truly depressed me during my drinking career, acting instead as a shield against anxiety. Suddenly vanished, the great ally which for so long had kept my demons at bay, was no longer there to prevent those demons from beginning to swarm through the subconscious, and I was emotionally naked, vulnerable as I had never been before."
Depression can make us feel bent, but it, too, can be healed. That was Styron's experience. Maybe not completely, maybe not perfectly; but you can live again, made somewhat straight again. And one day, in the kingdom, your crookedness, your depression, will be completely healed. You will be made entirely whole.
Oh, this story of the bent woman made straight is just chock full of good news! Because, you see, it's not just the bent woman who gets healed. The bent synagogue leader is made whole as well.
Do you see how he is bent, how he is misshapen and wounded, too? The synagogue leader gets mad at Jesus for healing on the Sabbath: he's bent out of shape! Indignantly, he foams at Jesus: "The Sabbath is a day of rest when no work ought to be done; healing is work; Jesus should not have done it. You want healing, you should come back on Monday." All these legalistic "ought's," all these legalistic "should's."
Jesus comes back to him with a few "ought's" of his own, but these are gospel "ought's." "If it's okay to untie your donkey and lead him to water on the Sabbath," Jesus says, "ought not it also to be okay for this bent woman to be untied, to be released, to be set free, from her bondage on the Sabbath?"
And then, Luke tells us, "All [Jesus'] opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing." And I choose to believe that that "entire crowd" included the shamed synagogue leader -- that he who was so bent out of shape because Jesus healed on the Sabbath, that Jesus straightened him out, too.
Oh, and there's more good news, people! Did you notice how the woman received a new name? The people in the village, for eighteen years, had been calling her Bent Woman. She was defined by her brokenness. And what new name does Jesus now call her? "Daughter of Abraham!" A daughter of the promise! A daughter who inherits all the blessings of Abraham! It's a new identity. The woman is no longer labeled by her brokenness, but she has been named after the gift she has received.
It's like that young boy who was featured on 48 Hours, the Horse Boy from the Dominican Republic who had walked on all fours for his entire life because of a deformity in his knees. His healing, his restoration to wholeness, involved a surgical amputation of his legs and then being fitted with prosthetics, artificial legs, that allowed him to walk upright. And now they no longer call him Horse Boy.
No longer Bent Woman. No longer Horse Boy. No longer Elephant Man. No longer Man Without a Face. Jesus, in our baptism, has renamed us, too -- given us the name "Christian," because we belong to him.
What are those names of ours that Jesus can change? The Angry Man, the Depressed Woman, the Cheater, the Liar, the Adulterer, the Gossip, the Selfish One? In our baptisms we have all been given the new name, Christian, because we belong to Christ.
And we all know how this was made possible for us, don't we? In this section of Luke, Jesus has already set his face toward Jerusalem, he is still on his journey to the cross -- where he, he himself, will be bent over -- receiving the lashes on his back, carrying his own cross through the streets. He, he himself, will be tied up and nailed to the cross until he dies.
And then God the Father, in the most marvelous gift of the Resurrection, unties him from death, loosens the bonds, and Jesus stands up straight again!
All you Bent-Over Ones, hear your new name -- Christian -- and stand up straight!
