Who, Me?
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Who, Me?" by C. David McKirachan
"Healing Prayers" by Peter Andrew Smith
* * * * * * *
Who, Me?
by C. David McKirachan
Ephesians 1:11-23
In my first parish, I was surrounded by everything other than Presbyterians or Protestants. The ethnic mix was Polish and Italian and Black. The Latino's were on there, much to the chagrin of everybody. Race trouble was the norm, not a regrettable but rare occurrence. There were a few very large Roman Catholic churches in the neighborhood, including the bishop's. At this juncture in the community's history, we followers of Reformed theology were the interlopers. My immediate neighbors were an Italian clan, all related. Everybody was Cousin Joey, or Cousin Mary, or Aunt Josie, or Uncle Fredo. I was known affectionately as "the Rev." At the parties, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, weddings, christenings, funerals, birthdays, graduation, and barbeques there was always a bunch that used to sit me down, give me a plate of food that seemed to constantly be replenished, a glass of dark red wine that was constantly refilled, and bombard me with questions. They had never had access to a theologian, let alone a Protestant, whatever that was. They knew next to nothing about the Bible and were fascinated by my take on Jesus.
Invariably one of their questions was about saints. When I told them about Ephesians and believers being saints there was a unanimous uproar of "No!" There was no way they were going to let someone put them in that category. It was never clear to me whether they were afraid of being martyred, afraid of the responsibility, or afraid of being frozen in marble. They wanted some distance between their daily life and these "others" who were half way to God before they ever died.
After the "No!" they would get back to simple things like miracles and resurrection. Then there would be a quiet question, "Rev, are you sure it says that anybody who believes is a saint?" The affirmative response almost invariably would bring them to the next question, "Does that mean I don't believe?" It took me a while to figure that one out. But it is a convoluted consistency, if you assume down in the dirt folks like us can't be saints. It was like a sore tooth, more worrisome than the feeding of the 5,000 or Jesus walking out of the tomb.
We don't grasp how amazing our call to share in the Body of Christ is until we run into people who have not been offered the gift. They still thought I was nuts. But they kept inviting me back, and they kept asking the question.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
Healing Prayers
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 6:20-31
Jessica slammed the door and threw her purse on the table.
Maggie looked up from her crossword. "Something the matter, dear?"
"I talked to Pastor Steve like you suggested." Jessica pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Did you tell him what has been happening?"
"I did."
Maggie waited for a moment to see if her daughter was going to say anything else. "And?"
"He wasn't helpful at all. It was a waste of my time."
Maggie took a deep breath. "Did he listen to your story?"
"He did."
"Did you tell him everything truthfully?"
"You mean did I tell in detail what a lousy cheating husband I have and how he has left me for that cheap -- "
Maggie held up her hand to stop Jessica from continuing. "Language please."
"I am just so furious," Jessica said.
"I know." Maggie got up from her chair and filled the kettle. "Let's have a cup of tea."
"Tea?" Jessica said. "What good is that going to do?"
"It is going to give you a few moments to calm down. That way you can explain to me in detail what happened and what Pastor Steve said to make you so angry."
Jessica shifted impatiently in her chair as Maggie made the tea. Maggie poured them each a cup and then nodded to her daughter.
"You won't believe what Pastor Steve told me to do," Jessica said.
"He told you to pray for Charlie."
Jessica's mouth opened and closed a few times. "How did you know?"
"Because he told me the same thing," Maggie took a sip from her cup.
"What?"
"I was angry when you were still with Charlie," Maggie said. "I knew his constant lying was hurting you and I suspected he might be having an affair."
"You never said anything to me."
"Every marriage has its ups and downs and a meddling mother only makes things worse." Maggie poured herself some more tea. "What do you suppose would have happened if I told you when you were still together that I was angry with the way Charlie was treating you?"
"I would have been mad at you," Jessica admitted.
"More than likely."
Jessica considered her mother. "So you hated him the whole time we were together?"
Maggie shook her head. "I actually liked him when you were first married. It was this last year that I had real problems with him."
"That would be about when he started the affair," Jessica said. "He was a different man after that."
"On your birthday when you called in tears I really started to have problems with him." Maggie took another drink of tea. "Remember this winter when I was having trouble sleeping and was so short tempered?"
"I do. I was really worried you were sick or something."
"Being angry at Charlie was making me sick," Maggie said. "That's when I went to talk to Pastor Steve."
"And he gave you that useless advice."
"He told me to pray for Charlie." Maggie put down her cup and looked her daughter in the eye. "It helped."
"Helped? How can praying for that man who you now know was cheating and lying and hurting me help in any possible way?"
"How long has it been since Charlie moved out west?"
"Three months now," Jessica said. "Best three months I have had in a long time."
"Really?" Maggie said. "Last time my grandson was here he told me you never smile or laugh anymore."
"How can I? My husband cheated and left me. He hurt me like no one has every hurt me before."
"I know." Maggie took her daughter's hand. "Maybe it is time to stop letting him hurt you."
"What do you mean?"
"You need to let go of that anger and let the Holy Spirit into your heart to start the healing."
"How?" Jessica asked. "How can I possibly do that?"
"Jesus told us to pray for our enemies and the people who hurt us."
"I don't want good things to happen to Charlie. I want him to hurt like I am hurting." Jessica began to cry. "It isn't fair what he did to me."
"No, it isn't fair and it isn't right," Maggie said. "Do you want your son to hate Charlie?"
"No," Jessica wiped her tears. "A boy shouldn't grow up hating his father."
"Then that is a good reason for you to start letting go of your anger before he starts to imitate you."
Jessica thought for a moment. "Pastor Steve said that was one reason I should pray for Charlie."
Maggie nodded. "It is impossible to hate someone when you bring their name to God in prayer."
"So you're not angry with Charlie anymore?" Jessica asked. "Since you've been praying for him?"
Maggie sighed. "Some days I struggle more than others. But yes, I don't wish him harm like I did at one point."
"So it is not something that happens overnight?"
"Healing and forgiveness always takes time," Maggie said. "Prayer lets the Holy Spirit do what needs to be done in our lives."
Jessica and Maggie drank their tea in silence for a few moments.
"Mom, would you pray with me for Charlie?"
Maggie nodded and the two women opened their hearts to God's love and grace.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 1, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Who, Me?" by C. David McKirachan
"Healing Prayers" by Peter Andrew Smith
* * * * * * *
Who, Me?
by C. David McKirachan
Ephesians 1:11-23
In my first parish, I was surrounded by everything other than Presbyterians or Protestants. The ethnic mix was Polish and Italian and Black. The Latino's were on there, much to the chagrin of everybody. Race trouble was the norm, not a regrettable but rare occurrence. There were a few very large Roman Catholic churches in the neighborhood, including the bishop's. At this juncture in the community's history, we followers of Reformed theology were the interlopers. My immediate neighbors were an Italian clan, all related. Everybody was Cousin Joey, or Cousin Mary, or Aunt Josie, or Uncle Fredo. I was known affectionately as "the Rev." At the parties, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, weddings, christenings, funerals, birthdays, graduation, and barbeques there was always a bunch that used to sit me down, give me a plate of food that seemed to constantly be replenished, a glass of dark red wine that was constantly refilled, and bombard me with questions. They had never had access to a theologian, let alone a Protestant, whatever that was. They knew next to nothing about the Bible and were fascinated by my take on Jesus.
Invariably one of their questions was about saints. When I told them about Ephesians and believers being saints there was a unanimous uproar of "No!" There was no way they were going to let someone put them in that category. It was never clear to me whether they were afraid of being martyred, afraid of the responsibility, or afraid of being frozen in marble. They wanted some distance between their daily life and these "others" who were half way to God before they ever died.
After the "No!" they would get back to simple things like miracles and resurrection. Then there would be a quiet question, "Rev, are you sure it says that anybody who believes is a saint?" The affirmative response almost invariably would bring them to the next question, "Does that mean I don't believe?" It took me a while to figure that one out. But it is a convoluted consistency, if you assume down in the dirt folks like us can't be saints. It was like a sore tooth, more worrisome than the feeding of the 5,000 or Jesus walking out of the tomb.
We don't grasp how amazing our call to share in the Body of Christ is until we run into people who have not been offered the gift. They still thought I was nuts. But they kept inviting me back, and they kept asking the question.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
Healing Prayers
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 6:20-31
Jessica slammed the door and threw her purse on the table.
Maggie looked up from her crossword. "Something the matter, dear?"
"I talked to Pastor Steve like you suggested." Jessica pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Did you tell him what has been happening?"
"I did."
Maggie waited for a moment to see if her daughter was going to say anything else. "And?"
"He wasn't helpful at all. It was a waste of my time."
Maggie took a deep breath. "Did he listen to your story?"
"He did."
"Did you tell him everything truthfully?"
"You mean did I tell in detail what a lousy cheating husband I have and how he has left me for that cheap -- "
Maggie held up her hand to stop Jessica from continuing. "Language please."
"I am just so furious," Jessica said.
"I know." Maggie got up from her chair and filled the kettle. "Let's have a cup of tea."
"Tea?" Jessica said. "What good is that going to do?"
"It is going to give you a few moments to calm down. That way you can explain to me in detail what happened and what Pastor Steve said to make you so angry."
Jessica shifted impatiently in her chair as Maggie made the tea. Maggie poured them each a cup and then nodded to her daughter.
"You won't believe what Pastor Steve told me to do," Jessica said.
"He told you to pray for Charlie."
Jessica's mouth opened and closed a few times. "How did you know?"
"Because he told me the same thing," Maggie took a sip from her cup.
"What?"
"I was angry when you were still with Charlie," Maggie said. "I knew his constant lying was hurting you and I suspected he might be having an affair."
"You never said anything to me."
"Every marriage has its ups and downs and a meddling mother only makes things worse." Maggie poured herself some more tea. "What do you suppose would have happened if I told you when you were still together that I was angry with the way Charlie was treating you?"
"I would have been mad at you," Jessica admitted.
"More than likely."
Jessica considered her mother. "So you hated him the whole time we were together?"
Maggie shook her head. "I actually liked him when you were first married. It was this last year that I had real problems with him."
"That would be about when he started the affair," Jessica said. "He was a different man after that."
"On your birthday when you called in tears I really started to have problems with him." Maggie took another drink of tea. "Remember this winter when I was having trouble sleeping and was so short tempered?"
"I do. I was really worried you were sick or something."
"Being angry at Charlie was making me sick," Maggie said. "That's when I went to talk to Pastor Steve."
"And he gave you that useless advice."
"He told me to pray for Charlie." Maggie put down her cup and looked her daughter in the eye. "It helped."
"Helped? How can praying for that man who you now know was cheating and lying and hurting me help in any possible way?"
"How long has it been since Charlie moved out west?"
"Three months now," Jessica said. "Best three months I have had in a long time."
"Really?" Maggie said. "Last time my grandson was here he told me you never smile or laugh anymore."
"How can I? My husband cheated and left me. He hurt me like no one has every hurt me before."
"I know." Maggie took her daughter's hand. "Maybe it is time to stop letting him hurt you."
"What do you mean?"
"You need to let go of that anger and let the Holy Spirit into your heart to start the healing."
"How?" Jessica asked. "How can I possibly do that?"
"Jesus told us to pray for our enemies and the people who hurt us."
"I don't want good things to happen to Charlie. I want him to hurt like I am hurting." Jessica began to cry. "It isn't fair what he did to me."
"No, it isn't fair and it isn't right," Maggie said. "Do you want your son to hate Charlie?"
"No," Jessica wiped her tears. "A boy shouldn't grow up hating his father."
"Then that is a good reason for you to start letting go of your anger before he starts to imitate you."
Jessica thought for a moment. "Pastor Steve said that was one reason I should pray for Charlie."
Maggie nodded. "It is impossible to hate someone when you bring their name to God in prayer."
"So you're not angry with Charlie anymore?" Jessica asked. "Since you've been praying for him?"
Maggie sighed. "Some days I struggle more than others. But yes, I don't wish him harm like I did at one point."
"So it is not something that happens overnight?"
"Healing and forgiveness always takes time," Maggie said. "Prayer lets the Holy Spirit do what needs to be done in our lives."
Jessica and Maggie drank their tea in silence for a few moments.
"Mom, would you pray with me for Charlie?"
Maggie nodded and the two women opened their hearts to God's love and grace.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 1, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
