Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.
1st Corinthians 12
This is a DVD sermon. I have added a few things that I cut during delivery for the sake of completeness.
We come now to gifts of healing. I am going to treat “gifts of healing,” separately from “healers,” as Paul may do in 1st Corinthians 12. There is no doubt that what we would readily call miracles of healing often took place in the Ancient World.
First consider the Gentile world. The Greek God of healing was Aesculapius. Many people throughout the Roman Empire sought and received gifts of healing in temples erected in his honor. Many who received healings erected expensive tablets in his honor, often specifying the nature of the healing that they had received. William Barclay, author of the “Daily Study Bible,” observes that few of these people would have spent money on the inscriptions if they had not been healed.
What do these pagan healings mean for us? At the very least they indicate the power of faith to effect our physical health, however well-placed or however misplaced. Some years ago the President of the Southern Baptist Convention caused a stir when he said that God did not hear the prayers of non-Christians. I disagree. I believe God welcomes the prayers of all people. I believe that God hears sincere prayers, even when they are offered in the innocence of ignorance.
And what about the Jews of Jesus’ day? If a first century Jew was sick, he was much more likely to go to a Rabbi than to a doctor, and he was often healed. In the Gospels we learn that Jesus himself was a healer. According to various passages of the New Testament Jesus cleansed lepers, restored the sight of the blind, made the deaf to hear, the dumb to speak, and the lame to walk. Likewise Jesus restored to their sanity many who were possessed of personal demons. Still more wonderful, on three occasions the New Testament credits Jesus with raising the dead. According to Mark, Jarius’s daughter was still in her sick bed when Jesus said to her, in Aramaic, “Little girl, arise.” (Jesus ordinarily spoke Aramaic, and this is one of the few places in the New Testament where it is preserved, indicating a passage of great age.) According to Luke, the son of the widow of Nain was on his funeral bier and his funeral procession was underway when Jesus interrupted the funeral to give him back his life. Lazarus was four days dead when Jesus called out, “Lazarus, come out!” Some people are skeptical enough about these stories of Jesus raising the dead. They try to decrease the miracle element of the stories. They argue that the little girl was “just sleeping,” as Jesus himself said. Though people laughed at him for saying it. Likewise, they think that the boy was in a trance. However, they admit that the 4th Gospel leaves them little wiggle room for reducing the miracle value of the Lazarus story. The best they can do is to suggest the whole episode was an attempt by John to remove all doubt that remains about the other two times that Jesus raised the dead. Of course, this assumes that John had knowledge of Mark and Luke, something many of the same people call to question.
As we turn again to Jesus, we ought to note that Jesus followed the convention of his day with regard to healing. According to Mark 8, in healing a blind man, he first spits in his eyes and then lays hands on him. Some scholars have suggested that this is a truncated account, that Jesus actually made a poultice of spittle and mud and applied it to the blind man’s eyes. This was common practice among ancient healers. Likewise, in Mark 1 and again in Mark 8 Jesus heals lepers and then commands them to show themselves to a priest and to make the offering commanded by Moses, that they might be pronounced clean. Jesus never set himself in competition to the medical authorities of his day. Jesus was a friend to the sick, and a friend to the “physician” of his day. This tradition continues today, when we encounter both professional and volunteer chaplains even in hospitals, not just church-related hospitals, but secular hospitals, too, such as the excellent Novant hospitals here in Winston-Salem.
In the gospels Jesus healed, and in 1st Corinthians chapter 12, Paul mentions gifts of healing and the working of miracles. Our situation today may or may not be different from the situation in the early Church. It often depends on where we go to church.
In her book “The Kingdom of the Sick,” Susan Dunlap describes three congregational cultures that are representative of churches all over America. All three congregations are located in Durham, N.C., but she alters their names, perhaps to protect the identity of the congregations, perhaps to protect her own financial welfare.
The first congregation Dunlap studied she calls Healing Waters. It is a black Pentecostal church. In the Healing Waters church the belief practices around caring for the sick are centered on healing. Whether they are praying, laying on hands, or anointing one another with oil, the people in the Healing Waters church treat all illness as a spiritual issue. Something as slight as a headache is an attack of the Devil, but God had bested the Devil, they say, and God can best him again. The folks at Healing Waters believe that God has an obligation in to heal his children, and those who pray have an equal obligation to believe that God can heal his children.
The second congregation Dunlap studied she calls Our Lady of Durham. It is a Latino- Catholic church. The belief practices around caring for the sick at Our Lady include visitation, prayer, and the reading of scripture. However, rather than expecting healing, the members of Our Lady pray for the ability to submit to God’s will and to trust in God’s purpose and plan. They are not about cure, but acceptance.
The third congregation she studied Dunlap calls the First Downtown Church. It is a predominately white, middle-class, and mainline-protestant church. When it comes to belief practices around caring for the sick First Church is all about care, not cure. When a member falls ill, a network of care is put into place to provide practical assistance. When a person has surgery, and comes home from the hospital, people are likely to volunteer to mow their grass, to provide meals, and to visit regularly. Their approach is very practical, and very helpful.
Now let me ask you a question: In which church would you be the most comfortable? Each of the three churches has elements that I admire, and elements that I do not admire.
I like the “practice” of the Healing Water’s Church, including the laying on of hands, and anointing with oil. When our daughter was born with Turner’s Syndrome my wife and I took her to Bishop Herbert Spaugh for prayer. The late Bishop Spaugh was a Moravian bishop, but he belonged to the Episcopal Order of St. Luke the Physician. He believed in spiritual healing, and we were not surprised when he anointed our daughter with oil, made the sign of the cross on her forehead, and then laid hands on her as he prayed for her. We felt as if we had done the right things. We had put things into God’s hands and believed God’s best. The answer to our prayers unfolded over several decades of our daughter’s life. Likewise, just before my mother’s recent surgery, I took out a small vial of oil that was given me by a friend, and anointed her by making the sign of the cross on her forehead, and then laying hands on her as I prayed. At the age of 86, she took visible comfort in the act. The Catholic Church regards “Anointing for the Sick,” as one of the sacraments, as valid as Baptism or Holy Communion. They consider the sacrament of Anointing for the Sick, like all sacraments, to be a visible sign of an invisible grace offered by God. Like Karl Barth, I believe there is just one sacrament, “the Word of God.” All the sacraments and rites of the church are a subset of this one sacrament. The sacrament of Anointing with Oil contains a promise of scripture, “And God will heal him (or her).” (James 5:15)
I like some of the “practice” of the Healing Waters Church. It is hard to fault it from the perspective of the New Testament; but I don’t care for the “theology” of that church. Though I believe that much sickness and even death is caused by sin, whether individual or societal, I do not think that you can blame the Devil for every headache. Nor do I believe that God is obligated to heal us of all sickness and disease. I do not believe that God sends us our diseases, some just happen. They are a part of life in the world as it is. However, God can and does use our sickness and ill health to God’s own purpose. In 2nd Corinthians chapter 12, St. Paul himself wrote about his “thorn in the flesh.” He said that three times he asked God to remove this thorn in the flesh, which was almost certainly a physical ailment. And three times he received the word from God, “My grace is sufficient for you, my strength is made perfect in weakness.” God can use our illness to his purpose. We need to remember that. I once had a friend, whose sister is a member of this congregation. She was associated with a large Pentecostal congregation. At the age of 37 she was diagnosed with cancer. She was told that there was no cure, and that she was dying. Members of that church came to her aid. They helped care for her in very practical ways. They also anointed her with oil, and layed hands on her as they prayed for her. She welcomed their prayers; but she got no better. Finally, in frustration, several of them told her that if she only had more perfect faith, she could be healed. She told me that their condemnation of her faith added misery to her already miserable condition. She wept when she told me this. I wish I had had opportunity to tell them that if they want to play with proof texts they should consider that the fault may have been theirs, not hers. The scripture says, “the prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects.” (James 5:16) Perhaps they were not so righteous.
On the other hand, I find much to admire about the “theology” of Our Lady Church, but I do not agree fully with their “practice.” I think it is virtuous to trust God and to believe that he can be at work in the most dire and uncomfortable situation. It indicates great faith. Let me illustrate. Some years ago I was in a small group discussing Christian maturity. The Rt. Rev. Dr. D. Wayne Burkett, president of our PEC was in that group. At the time he was just Wayne. When it came time for him to speak, he said, “I would like to achieve the faith of Job who spoke to God saying, ‘Though he slay me, yet will I trust him.’” (Job 13:15) That echos the attitudes of Our Lady Church. Let me give one more example. Just this week I was meeting with a group of parents of Special Needs Children. As we met, the daughter of one family joined us. She is a most intelligent young lady. Though only in the 5th Grade she amazed us by reciting PIE through the first 156 digits. (PIE begins with 3.14 and then stretches out to infinity.) One of the members of the group asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, thinking that perhaps she would be a mathematician. She said, “I want to be a doctor, a geneticist. I want to cure people like my brother.” Then she stopped, stumbled a bit, and added, “Wait, I am not so sure about that. If there were no people like my brother, then their families and friends would not have the joy and blessing of having people like my brother around.” That, my friends, is “the utterance of wisdom.”
I just have one problem with the practice of Our Lady Church. I think they accept things too soon. It seems to me that there is a danger of going to easily into what the poet called the good night of death. I am pretty sure that I prefer an honest struggle, and a good fight, to immediate surrender. Elizabeth-Kubler Ross tells us that, in the process of death and dying, there is a time for “acceptance;” but I hesitate to place acceptance too soon in the process. I prefer to rage against the disease and call upon heaven until all hope is exhausted. And even then, I prefer to remember the example of Abraham who, “in hope, hoped against hope, that he might become the father of many nations.” Remember, it was only when Abraham had reached the end of his own resources that God himself really went to work.
Finally, there is the First Downtown Church where they practice care, not cure. I like the care part. It is right to care for those who cannot care for themselves. It is right to visit the sick, and to take them meals, and to mow their grass. But care by itself is not enough. If we never look for a cure from God, how can we ever hope to find one? When we are sick we need the help of doctors and nurses, and the best that modern medicine can offer; but we also want the best that God can offer.
God has invited us to look for a cure. In the book of James we read, “ Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.” (James 5:14,15) James also writes, “You do not have because you do not ask.” (James 4:2) We may view the laying on of hands and anointing with oil as mere outward forms. Certainly there is no magic in such a rite. We do not control God and force God to heal when we lay hands on someone who is ill. But how can we even pretend to believe in a good and gracious God and not pray for those who are sick?
I would mention, too, that in those ancient times, “oil,” was also used as a medicine along with “wine” to bind wounds. (Luke 10:34).
How long do we pray? As long as there is life there is hope, though, in the course of an illness, our prayers will necessarily change. Let me give but one example. Early in an illness of someone we love, Death is a Yellow Monster, the Last Enemy; but as their suffering increases, and their will to live gradually dissipates, Death looks more and more like a friend and less and less like an enemy. As Christians we know that God has triumphed even over Death. Death, like all the powers and principalities, now serves God and Death also serves God’s children. Remember, just when the caterpillar despaired of life, it became a butterfly. It is only in dying that we rise to the fullness of Eternal Life.
I believe that there are three types of healing.
1. The first type is immediate healing. This is the kind that Jesus practiced in the gospels. I think that I myself have experienced an instance of immediate healing. It was not very dramatic, but not all immediate healings are. Not all healings need to be dramatic. One day while at Seminary I went to the gym to meet my friend Bruce Cleasby, a former Air Force Officer who then became a United Methodist minister. Some of you will remember Bruce. He has spoken here on several occasions. He is the one who had many of you crying on a Mother’s Day. Well, Bruce and I were supposed to run, but I told Bruce that I did not feel up to it. I was feverish, and I felt I was coming down with the flu or some other kind of bug. I asked him to pray for me. Bruce did not hesitate, boldly putting his hands on my head, he prayed for my health. I thanked him, and started to leave. He said, “Wait a minute. We have to run, and you have to exercise your faith.” I answered his challenge. We did run. By the end of my run, I had sweated out the fever, and I went out to that gym a healthy man. (Note: I have often tried to exercise through a cold, etc.; but I am not sure that a physician would think this a good plan! Go to a doctor if you need one!)
2. The second type of healing is gradual. In the case of our daughter, Edyth, her gradual healing was revealed to us over the course of more than thirty years, and it is still being revealed. The latest revelation came with the adoption of a wonderful and beautiful son, Silas. Gradual healing is also the kind that takes places in hospitals, and clinics, and doctor’s offices all over the world. It comes because we are bold to take our symptoms and our fears to a doctor’s office. Gradual healing comes with the result of surgery, and radiation, and pills, and poultices, and chemotherapy. It comes because a nurse touches us with caring hands—even if she is drawing blood, starting IV’s or giving us a shots. When we consider gradual healing we must never forget that all healing is ultimately from God. Dr. Ambrose Farrar founded the French College of Surgeons. Over the main gate he placed the words, “The Physician binds the patient’s wounds, but only God can heal him.”
3. The final type of healing is resurrection healing. I am not talking about the kind of healing that Lazarus received, or the son of the widow of Nain, or the daughter of Jarius. According to the New Testament, these three were raised; but they were raised in the same body they died in. The old corpse was, one way or another, resuscitated. We can reasonably assume the day came that they died again and were buried. I am talking about the kind of resurrection healing that Jesus himself received. His body was not just resuscitated; it was transformed. His physical body became a spiritual body. His body of humiliation became a body of Glory. The resurrection healing is God’s gift to all of his children. As St. Paul says, “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you.”
In conclusion, I would point out that all healing begins with spiritual healing. In the book of James, in the same passage that we are told that when we are sick we are to summon the elders of the church, we are also told to confess ours sins to one another and to pray for one another. (James 5:16) It is in the confession of sins that we prepare ourselves for the healing that God has for us, whatever kind of healing that may be. Sick or well, our first duty is to be in right relationship with the God who loves us, and offers us the promise of God’s care.
Finis