Chicken Soup And Other Remedies
Sermon
The Feasts Of The Kingdom
Sermons On Holy Communion And Other Sacred Meals
It was one of those memorable Sunday mornings in church. It was fall, in November. The air was crisp and dry. The leaves were gone except for a straggler here and there, and the bare branches were silhouetted against a crystalline blue sky. It was one of those Sunday mornings, peaceful and serene, when we celebrate our living and want to say, "God's in his heaven and all is right with the world."
And it seemed just as beautiful inside the church as it was outside. Our Sunday morning seminar, meeting between the services, was packed to overflowing. In our effort to broaden our understanding of contemporary Judaism, we had invited a guest speaker, a popular rabbi from one of the neighboring synagogues.
The rabbi gave us a brief historical backdrop and then surveyed contemporary Judaism with consummate skill and finesse. It had been a very satisfying historical and theological feast, and then came time for questions from the floor.
In the back of the room an older lady raised her hand. As she stood to speak, I wondered what theologically profound question she might have for the rabbi. "Rabbi," she said, "I wonder if you could tell me why it is that so many Jewish mothers I know believe so strongly in the medicinal powers of chicken soup!" The whole seminar crowd rolled with laughter, as did the rabbi and I.
"Well," said the rabbi, "it is true that a lot of Jewish mothers believe in the medicinal powers of chicken soup. And there probably are some therapeutic powers in chicken soup." He paused a moment, and then continued, "However, if other Jewish mothers were anything like my mother, the medicinal power was not so much in the soup itself as in the love with which it was given." The group applauded.
How was it with your mother? My mother was not Jewish, but she, like many Jewish mothers, seemed to equate food with love. She grew many of her own vegetables and regularly treated her family to tasty, fresh, American cuisine. Anyone who ever ate one of her big, red, tender, juicy tomatoes would understand why a tomato is not a vegetable, but a fruit.
For her, food was love and love was food. Meals were family occasions around the kitchen or dining room table. Let no child come to the table with dirty hands, uncombed hair, or slovenly appearance. Food was love and love was food. Meals were sacramental times, times for saying grace, sharing the happenings of the day, telling jokes, and of course, helping with the dishes. Yes, chicken soup was sometimes a part of it, but it was all food, not only for the body, but for the soul -- a fact I took for granted until I grew older.
If we need chicken soup for an aching, feverish body, we also need chicken soup for an aching, feverish soul. How often in my many years in the ministry I have wished I could say to people in distress, "Here, take these pills every four hours and eat a big bowl of chicken soup every day and you will be better."
Regrettably, when it comes to the mind and soul, when it comes to the heart and spirit, when it comes to our inmost being, it is not quite that easy. Yet, there are remedies for soul sickness. Thank God, there are powerful remedies for those things which perplex and vex us, for those things which nag at us most deeply, even, thank God, remedies for the soul-sickness unto death.
And many of the remedies are given by Paul in our text, remedies not to be taken once, but always, remedies not just to get well, but to help us stay well. Let's take a walk through Paul's spiritual pharmacy to see which remedies might be of most help.
I.
The first item in Paul's spiritual pharmacy is labeled "rejoice," and again I say, "rejoice."
At first glance this seems a rather odd prescription from Paul, especially for his circumstances. For one thing, when he and Silas first went to Philippi years earlier, they were thrown into prison for exorcising the demons of a slave girl. Hardly a joyful situation. And now, as Paul writes this famous letter to the Philippians, one of his last, he is in prison in Rome, soon to meet his death at the hands of the Emperor Nero.
But the key to effectiveness of this medication is the added phrase, "The Lord is at hand." Paul was confident that whatever happened he was in the hands of God. He had moved beyond despair and depression to the joyful confidence that all life was a gift, especially the new life in Christ. As the Psalm advises, "Look to God and be radiant, and your faces will never be ashamed" (34:5).
II.
Another remedy in the spiritual pharmacy is labeled "forbearance."
The word forbearance means to refrain from what you have a legal right to do. It suggests fair-mindedness, a willingness to give and take, a readiness not to seek revenge, a willingness to forgive.
Recently, a professor friend of mine was giving a lively seminar to an enthusiastic audience in a church on the subject of capital punishment. He had named the pros and cons and admitted he sometimes leaned toward supporting capital punishment, though most of the time he was against it.
During the discussion period a man asked if he might speak. He stood up, and with emotion-packed voice said, "I would like to say a word about this matter of revenge and vengeance. Three years ago," he continued, "I was on the Long Island Railroad train to Garden City, New York, when the infamous massacre occurred -- the one where several were killed and others were wounded."
A hush came over the seminar room as he continued. "Yes, I was one of the wounded -- wounded quite badly. And for a long time I had nothing but seething anger and hatred for that despicable murderer. In fact, I had so much anger, so much hostility, so much lust for revenge, that it began to eat up my insides."
He paused as people leaned expectantly forward to hear his dramatic words. He said, "I finally realized that with all this anger and hatred I was sinking to the level of my would-be assassin. My longing for vengeance was making me almost as much a murderer as he was. And then, and then, I let it go. I decided he should not bring me down to his level, but that I should leave vengeance to someone else. Let the justice system take care of it. And I have gained great peace and contentment and strength ever since." Paul doesn't say murderers should go unpunished, but he does advise large doses of forbearance and forgiveness on the personal level.
III.
One of the more persistent maladies of the soul is anxiety. The Greek word for anxiety suggests a taffy-pull, the inward parts of our being being stretched and twisted and pounded over the cold marble of harsh reality. And at the heart of our anxiety is the sense of meaninglessness, and at the heart of meaninglessness is our awareness of death.
Popular psychoanalyst and author Rollo May says in his book Love and Will that "the anxiety of death -- prototypically the source of all anxiety -- still remains" (p. 301). And Rollo May's famous teacher at Union Theological Seminary, Dr. Paul Tillich, said in his book The Courage to Be that "the fear of death determines the element of anxiety ... It is the anxiety of not being able to preserve one's own being which underlies every fear ..." (p. 38).
What then shall we do in our fear of failure, our fear of meaninglessness, our fear of nothingness? Should we escape into a frenzy of moneymaking or power grabbing or pleasure seeking? Should we console ourselves in frantic fanaticisms whether they be political or religious? Should we descend into the depths of self-pity and despair and conclude with the writer of Ecclesiastes that all is vanity, that nothing makes sense?
Not that, says Paul, as he leads us through his spiritual pharmacy. Instead, he hands us a remedy labeled "prayer." Underneath the label it says, "Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." And the results? "The peace of God which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus," says Paul (4:6).
Lest we immediately conjure pious, but boring, images of someone kneeling with na•ve eyes steadfastly toward heaven, let us think again. Paul knew too much about the extremes of life to give glib advice on how to meet life's direst threats. He five times received the 39 lashes of the cat of nine tails, three times he was beaten with rods, and once stoned and left for dead. He was shipwrecked three times, threatened by mobs in Ephesus and other cities. He was in jail frequently and in peril often.
In Paul we have no glib, protected religious idealist handing down superficial, unreal advice. Instead, let your whole life be an attitude of prayer. Live as though you are always living in the presence of God, because you are. "The truth of Paul's gospel was not dependent on Paul," says his namesake, Paul Tillich. "Looking at God," says Tillich, "we realize all the shortcomings of our experience are of no importance. Looking at God, we see that we do not have him as an object of our knowledge, but that He has us as the subject of existence" (The New Being, p. 77).
And that's what prayer is -- looking at God and God looking at us; living in God and God living in us. Take lots of prayer as a remedy for anxiety.
IV.
Medications for the body are innumerable and complex, ranging far beyond the chicken soup of our mothers in our childhood. The complexity and antiquity of body medications was made vivid in our recent visit to China.
As a part of our tour we visited the medical hospital in Guilin to hear a lecture on Chinese medicine, where the doctors combined modern, western medical practices with the practices and medicines of Chinese antiquity.
However, as we approached the lecture room we passed before shelves of medicines plainly visible and labeled. The one that caught my eye was a large glass jar with an amber-colored fluid labeled "Three Snake Wine." And yes, there were three, different, rather large snakes inside, dead of course, which I thought I would be if I ever drank that potion. (I hate snakes!) It was supposed to be a cure for rheumatism. I decided that if it was a choice between rheumatism and drinking Three Snake Wine, I would take the rheumatism!
If remedies for ailments of the body are complex and sometimes repulsive, Paul's remedies for the soul have an attractive and profound simplicity to them. And as we proceed in his spiritual pharmacy we come upon a remedy labeled, "spiritual multivitamins." And the instructions are very plain. We are to think about them, set our minds upon them, because Paul knew with the sages of old that as a person thinks in his or her heart, this is what he or she eventually becomes.
The first ingredient in this spiritual multivitamin is truth. We are to think actively about what is true. Stay away from the deceptive, the illusory, and the unreliable. Be careful not to be entranced with the fantasy world of Hollywood or the dream world of celebrities and sports heroes. Fame is not the same thing as immortality. Focus on the eternal truths revealed by God through his prophets and apostles and especially through his Son, Jesus the Christ.
Another multivitamin ingredient is justice. We seem to have a fascination with injustice and crime and violence. How else do we explain the popularity of violence in movies and television, of the Godfather movies which have extortion, murder, and mayhem at their core? But such a fascination only leads to a sick society. But so does despair over a criminal justice system, and even more deeply, despair over whether there is ever any true justice. Nevertheless, focus your mind on what is just, because God will bring ultimate justice, says Paul. It is a moral universe, because God cares. Don't despair.
Loveliness is another multivitamin ingredient -- an ingredient which staves off indifference and bitterness. Helice Bridges tells a story in Canfield and Hansen's delightful book, Chicken Soup for the Soul, of an executive coming home to his fourteen-year-old son.
He sat his son down and said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today ... One of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius ... Then he put this blue ribbon that says, Who I Am Makes A Difference on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon to honor someone else."
The man continued. "As I was driving home I began to think of you. I realized I don't pay enough attention to you. I sometimes scream at you for not getting better grades, or about your bedroom being a mess. But tonight I want to tell you that you make all the difference to me, and that besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid, and I love you."
His son was startled and began to sob and sob. He couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. And through his tears he said, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."
Lastly, this spiritual multivitamin has an ingredient called grace. Think on whatever is gracious, because grace means free gift, undeserved favor, overflowing blessings which cannot be achieved but only received. And sometimes the most grace comes from unexpected places, even from children.
Dan Millman tells of his experience in Stanford Hospital as a volunteer. He got to know a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her five-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the rare disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.
The doctor talked with the little boy, explaining the situation as best he could, and then asked the little five-year-old boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. Mr. Millman says he saw the boy hesitate only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it, if it will save Liza."
As the transfusion progressed he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as did all those present, as color began to return to Liza's cheeks. Then the little boy's face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and in a trembling voice said, "Will I start to die right away?" He had misunderstood. He thought he was going to have to give her all his blood (Chicken Soup for the Soul, p. 27). Is there grace in the world? Oh, yes there is; from children, from parents, from friends and especially through Jesus, who gave all his blood, his life, for us all.
"The human mind," says Dr. William Barclay, "will always set itself on something." So think strongly about these spiritual multivitamins. They are an antidote for many spiritual diseases.
The rabbi was right. Jewish mothers knew chicken soup was a good remedy. So did my mother. And he knew that for many Jewish mothers food was love and love was food. And my mother knew that. But Paul knew greater remedies than those -- remedies for the soul, spiritual remedies from a pharmacy inspired by God himself. If taken regularly and faithfully, we will enjoy robust spiritual health.
And at the bottom of all the labels Paul adds these words: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Prayer
O Eternal God, who over the long eons of time has developed the universe and the earth, and who in the complexities of your creative processes has designed us to image you, we give you thanks and praise. With bone and marrow, flesh and blood, enzyme and hormone, DNA and RNA, you structure not only our body, but the home of our mind and soul. We are fearfully and marvelously made, overtaken in wonder and awe at the birth of each newborn baby. We adore you, O God.
Nevertheless, we bring before you today our perplexity and sometimes despair over the evil and illness in the world. There are times when disease strikes so relentlessly, so unforgivingly, so tragically. In our advanced years we have come to expect aches and ailments and the great susceptibility to life-threatening maladies. But among the young, among the innocent, disease also takes its deadly toll, and perpetually we ask, why? Why me? Why my wife? My husband, my child? O God, be attendant to our plaint and answer these perplexities of mind and heart.
Yet, we know you have not left us without hope. Within the body itself the power of healing is always at work to fight alien bacteria and viruses and to make it whole from lacerations and lesions. And within the mind and soul you have made available marvelous powers to make us whole. We thank you.
So we raise our earnest prayers for those in anguish, body or soul -- for those struggling in hospitals and rehabilitation centers, for those in psychiatric wards and twelve step groups, for those carrying within their being a quiet desperation and pervasive depression. O God, see how many of us need the power of your healing touch. Come to us, heal us, make us well and whole.
And for the soul sickness of humankind which leads to war and famine, bloodshed and starvation, poverty and plague, we pray release. Let peace come to all areas troubled with evil and violence. Bring wholeness and peace. Let it be so, loving Father, and let it begin with us. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
And it seemed just as beautiful inside the church as it was outside. Our Sunday morning seminar, meeting between the services, was packed to overflowing. In our effort to broaden our understanding of contemporary Judaism, we had invited a guest speaker, a popular rabbi from one of the neighboring synagogues.
The rabbi gave us a brief historical backdrop and then surveyed contemporary Judaism with consummate skill and finesse. It had been a very satisfying historical and theological feast, and then came time for questions from the floor.
In the back of the room an older lady raised her hand. As she stood to speak, I wondered what theologically profound question she might have for the rabbi. "Rabbi," she said, "I wonder if you could tell me why it is that so many Jewish mothers I know believe so strongly in the medicinal powers of chicken soup!" The whole seminar crowd rolled with laughter, as did the rabbi and I.
"Well," said the rabbi, "it is true that a lot of Jewish mothers believe in the medicinal powers of chicken soup. And there probably are some therapeutic powers in chicken soup." He paused a moment, and then continued, "However, if other Jewish mothers were anything like my mother, the medicinal power was not so much in the soup itself as in the love with which it was given." The group applauded.
How was it with your mother? My mother was not Jewish, but she, like many Jewish mothers, seemed to equate food with love. She grew many of her own vegetables and regularly treated her family to tasty, fresh, American cuisine. Anyone who ever ate one of her big, red, tender, juicy tomatoes would understand why a tomato is not a vegetable, but a fruit.
For her, food was love and love was food. Meals were family occasions around the kitchen or dining room table. Let no child come to the table with dirty hands, uncombed hair, or slovenly appearance. Food was love and love was food. Meals were sacramental times, times for saying grace, sharing the happenings of the day, telling jokes, and of course, helping with the dishes. Yes, chicken soup was sometimes a part of it, but it was all food, not only for the body, but for the soul -- a fact I took for granted until I grew older.
If we need chicken soup for an aching, feverish body, we also need chicken soup for an aching, feverish soul. How often in my many years in the ministry I have wished I could say to people in distress, "Here, take these pills every four hours and eat a big bowl of chicken soup every day and you will be better."
Regrettably, when it comes to the mind and soul, when it comes to the heart and spirit, when it comes to our inmost being, it is not quite that easy. Yet, there are remedies for soul sickness. Thank God, there are powerful remedies for those things which perplex and vex us, for those things which nag at us most deeply, even, thank God, remedies for the soul-sickness unto death.
And many of the remedies are given by Paul in our text, remedies not to be taken once, but always, remedies not just to get well, but to help us stay well. Let's take a walk through Paul's spiritual pharmacy to see which remedies might be of most help.
I.
The first item in Paul's spiritual pharmacy is labeled "rejoice," and again I say, "rejoice."
At first glance this seems a rather odd prescription from Paul, especially for his circumstances. For one thing, when he and Silas first went to Philippi years earlier, they were thrown into prison for exorcising the demons of a slave girl. Hardly a joyful situation. And now, as Paul writes this famous letter to the Philippians, one of his last, he is in prison in Rome, soon to meet his death at the hands of the Emperor Nero.
But the key to effectiveness of this medication is the added phrase, "The Lord is at hand." Paul was confident that whatever happened he was in the hands of God. He had moved beyond despair and depression to the joyful confidence that all life was a gift, especially the new life in Christ. As the Psalm advises, "Look to God and be radiant, and your faces will never be ashamed" (34:5).
II.
Another remedy in the spiritual pharmacy is labeled "forbearance."
The word forbearance means to refrain from what you have a legal right to do. It suggests fair-mindedness, a willingness to give and take, a readiness not to seek revenge, a willingness to forgive.
Recently, a professor friend of mine was giving a lively seminar to an enthusiastic audience in a church on the subject of capital punishment. He had named the pros and cons and admitted he sometimes leaned toward supporting capital punishment, though most of the time he was against it.
During the discussion period a man asked if he might speak. He stood up, and with emotion-packed voice said, "I would like to say a word about this matter of revenge and vengeance. Three years ago," he continued, "I was on the Long Island Railroad train to Garden City, New York, when the infamous massacre occurred -- the one where several were killed and others were wounded."
A hush came over the seminar room as he continued. "Yes, I was one of the wounded -- wounded quite badly. And for a long time I had nothing but seething anger and hatred for that despicable murderer. In fact, I had so much anger, so much hostility, so much lust for revenge, that it began to eat up my insides."
He paused as people leaned expectantly forward to hear his dramatic words. He said, "I finally realized that with all this anger and hatred I was sinking to the level of my would-be assassin. My longing for vengeance was making me almost as much a murderer as he was. And then, and then, I let it go. I decided he should not bring me down to his level, but that I should leave vengeance to someone else. Let the justice system take care of it. And I have gained great peace and contentment and strength ever since." Paul doesn't say murderers should go unpunished, but he does advise large doses of forbearance and forgiveness on the personal level.
III.
One of the more persistent maladies of the soul is anxiety. The Greek word for anxiety suggests a taffy-pull, the inward parts of our being being stretched and twisted and pounded over the cold marble of harsh reality. And at the heart of our anxiety is the sense of meaninglessness, and at the heart of meaninglessness is our awareness of death.
Popular psychoanalyst and author Rollo May says in his book Love and Will that "the anxiety of death -- prototypically the source of all anxiety -- still remains" (p. 301). And Rollo May's famous teacher at Union Theological Seminary, Dr. Paul Tillich, said in his book The Courage to Be that "the fear of death determines the element of anxiety ... It is the anxiety of not being able to preserve one's own being which underlies every fear ..." (p. 38).
What then shall we do in our fear of failure, our fear of meaninglessness, our fear of nothingness? Should we escape into a frenzy of moneymaking or power grabbing or pleasure seeking? Should we console ourselves in frantic fanaticisms whether they be political or religious? Should we descend into the depths of self-pity and despair and conclude with the writer of Ecclesiastes that all is vanity, that nothing makes sense?
Not that, says Paul, as he leads us through his spiritual pharmacy. Instead, he hands us a remedy labeled "prayer." Underneath the label it says, "Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." And the results? "The peace of God which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus," says Paul (4:6).
Lest we immediately conjure pious, but boring, images of someone kneeling with na•ve eyes steadfastly toward heaven, let us think again. Paul knew too much about the extremes of life to give glib advice on how to meet life's direst threats. He five times received the 39 lashes of the cat of nine tails, three times he was beaten with rods, and once stoned and left for dead. He was shipwrecked three times, threatened by mobs in Ephesus and other cities. He was in jail frequently and in peril often.
In Paul we have no glib, protected religious idealist handing down superficial, unreal advice. Instead, let your whole life be an attitude of prayer. Live as though you are always living in the presence of God, because you are. "The truth of Paul's gospel was not dependent on Paul," says his namesake, Paul Tillich. "Looking at God," says Tillich, "we realize all the shortcomings of our experience are of no importance. Looking at God, we see that we do not have him as an object of our knowledge, but that He has us as the subject of existence" (The New Being, p. 77).
And that's what prayer is -- looking at God and God looking at us; living in God and God living in us. Take lots of prayer as a remedy for anxiety.
IV.
Medications for the body are innumerable and complex, ranging far beyond the chicken soup of our mothers in our childhood. The complexity and antiquity of body medications was made vivid in our recent visit to China.
As a part of our tour we visited the medical hospital in Guilin to hear a lecture on Chinese medicine, where the doctors combined modern, western medical practices with the practices and medicines of Chinese antiquity.
However, as we approached the lecture room we passed before shelves of medicines plainly visible and labeled. The one that caught my eye was a large glass jar with an amber-colored fluid labeled "Three Snake Wine." And yes, there were three, different, rather large snakes inside, dead of course, which I thought I would be if I ever drank that potion. (I hate snakes!) It was supposed to be a cure for rheumatism. I decided that if it was a choice between rheumatism and drinking Three Snake Wine, I would take the rheumatism!
If remedies for ailments of the body are complex and sometimes repulsive, Paul's remedies for the soul have an attractive and profound simplicity to them. And as we proceed in his spiritual pharmacy we come upon a remedy labeled, "spiritual multivitamins." And the instructions are very plain. We are to think about them, set our minds upon them, because Paul knew with the sages of old that as a person thinks in his or her heart, this is what he or she eventually becomes.
The first ingredient in this spiritual multivitamin is truth. We are to think actively about what is true. Stay away from the deceptive, the illusory, and the unreliable. Be careful not to be entranced with the fantasy world of Hollywood or the dream world of celebrities and sports heroes. Fame is not the same thing as immortality. Focus on the eternal truths revealed by God through his prophets and apostles and especially through his Son, Jesus the Christ.
Another multivitamin ingredient is justice. We seem to have a fascination with injustice and crime and violence. How else do we explain the popularity of violence in movies and television, of the Godfather movies which have extortion, murder, and mayhem at their core? But such a fascination only leads to a sick society. But so does despair over a criminal justice system, and even more deeply, despair over whether there is ever any true justice. Nevertheless, focus your mind on what is just, because God will bring ultimate justice, says Paul. It is a moral universe, because God cares. Don't despair.
Loveliness is another multivitamin ingredient -- an ingredient which staves off indifference and bitterness. Helice Bridges tells a story in Canfield and Hansen's delightful book, Chicken Soup for the Soul, of an executive coming home to his fourteen-year-old son.
He sat his son down and said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today ... One of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius ... Then he put this blue ribbon that says, Who I Am Makes A Difference on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon to honor someone else."
The man continued. "As I was driving home I began to think of you. I realized I don't pay enough attention to you. I sometimes scream at you for not getting better grades, or about your bedroom being a mess. But tonight I want to tell you that you make all the difference to me, and that besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid, and I love you."
His son was startled and began to sob and sob. He couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. And through his tears he said, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."
Lastly, this spiritual multivitamin has an ingredient called grace. Think on whatever is gracious, because grace means free gift, undeserved favor, overflowing blessings which cannot be achieved but only received. And sometimes the most grace comes from unexpected places, even from children.
Dan Millman tells of his experience in Stanford Hospital as a volunteer. He got to know a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her five-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the rare disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.
The doctor talked with the little boy, explaining the situation as best he could, and then asked the little five-year-old boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. Mr. Millman says he saw the boy hesitate only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it, if it will save Liza."
As the transfusion progressed he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as did all those present, as color began to return to Liza's cheeks. Then the little boy's face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and in a trembling voice said, "Will I start to die right away?" He had misunderstood. He thought he was going to have to give her all his blood (Chicken Soup for the Soul, p. 27). Is there grace in the world? Oh, yes there is; from children, from parents, from friends and especially through Jesus, who gave all his blood, his life, for us all.
"The human mind," says Dr. William Barclay, "will always set itself on something." So think strongly about these spiritual multivitamins. They are an antidote for many spiritual diseases.
The rabbi was right. Jewish mothers knew chicken soup was a good remedy. So did my mother. And he knew that for many Jewish mothers food was love and love was food. And my mother knew that. But Paul knew greater remedies than those -- remedies for the soul, spiritual remedies from a pharmacy inspired by God himself. If taken regularly and faithfully, we will enjoy robust spiritual health.
And at the bottom of all the labels Paul adds these words: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Prayer
O Eternal God, who over the long eons of time has developed the universe and the earth, and who in the complexities of your creative processes has designed us to image you, we give you thanks and praise. With bone and marrow, flesh and blood, enzyme and hormone, DNA and RNA, you structure not only our body, but the home of our mind and soul. We are fearfully and marvelously made, overtaken in wonder and awe at the birth of each newborn baby. We adore you, O God.
Nevertheless, we bring before you today our perplexity and sometimes despair over the evil and illness in the world. There are times when disease strikes so relentlessly, so unforgivingly, so tragically. In our advanced years we have come to expect aches and ailments and the great susceptibility to life-threatening maladies. But among the young, among the innocent, disease also takes its deadly toll, and perpetually we ask, why? Why me? Why my wife? My husband, my child? O God, be attendant to our plaint and answer these perplexities of mind and heart.
Yet, we know you have not left us without hope. Within the body itself the power of healing is always at work to fight alien bacteria and viruses and to make it whole from lacerations and lesions. And within the mind and soul you have made available marvelous powers to make us whole. We thank you.
So we raise our earnest prayers for those in anguish, body or soul -- for those struggling in hospitals and rehabilitation centers, for those in psychiatric wards and twelve step groups, for those carrying within their being a quiet desperation and pervasive depression. O God, see how many of us need the power of your healing touch. Come to us, heal us, make us well and whole.
And for the soul sickness of humankind which leads to war and famine, bloodshed and starvation, poverty and plague, we pray release. Let peace come to all areas troubled with evil and violence. Bring wholeness and peace. Let it be so, loving Father, and let it begin with us. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
