“My Grace is Sufficient”

Rev Brian Thorpe 04/07/2021

Readings - Genesis 32:22-3, 2 Corinthians 12:2-10

When I began to get my mind around this morning’s service, I found myself reflecting on aspects of my journey of faith, and to share aspects of the journey. As I began to do this, I had a vague recollection that maybe I had done so before. Going back to the last time I was privileged to lead worship here I found that to be the case. What to do? It was twelve months ago so I thought it would be no great crime or sin to cover some of the same territory.

Following what I call my John Wesley experience, which was a very real and dramatic heart-warming experience, there was a long period of confusion.

I was taught, and read that God is love/grace; love which is fully accepting. I read in some of Paul’s letters that the Christian life, new life in Christ, was one of freedom from the Law which previously bound people up in rules; rule which were a real burden to many.

That was good. However, there seemed to be a different story emerging. There was lots of talk, and what seemed like suggestions in the gospels and the wider New Testament about what you had to do, and not do; talk which seemed like rules. It seems as if these rules needed to be obeyed so one could be Christian. The Sermon on the Mount certainly read that way to me: especially in Matthew 5:48 which read “be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect”. There are other references to perfection in the New Testament.

Perfect is defined by the Oxford online dictionary as being complete, without fault or weakness. I could accept that God is perfect. However, I knew me, and I knew darned well that I had faults and weaknesses. I knew that in no way was I perfect. I couldn’t be perfect so the ‘command’ to be perfect seemed like an impossible burden. It then seemed to me this thinking flowed through into church life, such as the various requirements in order to be confirmed into the Methodist Church; and I guess you can quote the ‘golden rule’.

I heard it said by some that we are told to be joyful/happy by those who regard the Bible as rule book – even though you might be feeling absolutely wretched. The faith life seemed like it was one of duty and obligation. The book club I am a part of is currently reading a book called ‘Saving Jesus From the Church: How to Stop Worshipping Christ and Start Following Jesus’. In this book Robin Meyers likens the relationship between God and people for many as one of transaction: people ask for forgiveness and in return God dispenses forgiveness. Is that where it is at for you?

As I look back, I find myself asking how did I stick it out, and I can appreciate why people reject the Christian faith as it seems to be moralising judgementalism. As the journey continued there was increasing knowledge and awareness; and I really appreciate the insights of my theological training where I learnt to appreciate and read the Scriptures in a new, and freeing way. Then In my journey in ministry I discovered many people who felt as I did. Because of their understanding of the Scriptures, and what they had been taught, many felt they didn’t measure up; they felt they were inferior as Christians.

As the journey continued a different scenario emerged. There was a time in ministry I, and the congregation where I was placed, explored the Church’s healing ministry. As I said that, I wonder were there thoughts of sicknesses and ailments being healed, which is what I used to think? Were there visions of what I judgementally call Pentecostal pandemonium where in healing sessions people with specific issues were called forward. One session could be for people with arm issues, another could be ear issues, and so on.

In theology there is a huge difference between people being cured from various ailments, and being healed. Briefly, healing, deep inner healing, is about a journey towards wholeness of human functioning, to the point where people can say, for example, that while their cancer wasn’t cured, they would die healed (whole).

In this journey of exploration and new insights, a deeper appreciation of grace emerged. In this appreciation the story of Jacob speaks powerfully; at least it does to me.

Jacob is an interesting character. As a liar, a cheat and a rogue he was not the sort of person you would your daughter to marry. Our reading takes us to his night long struggle as he wrestled with a man we understand to be God. This is a fascinating story as the whole idea of wrestling with God, and not letting go, is interesting: that’s for another time. Towards the end of the struggle Jacob gets whacked in the hip, which I guess must have been painful as he was left with a permanent limp. Jacob lost something vital: he emerged from this encounter/struggle broken.

What I find fascinating, and powerful in this story, is that this rogue, who was not whole in body, who more than likely would have been looked at sideways by those adhering to the holiness code, was given a new name, Israel, and went on to be the father of a great nation.

Can you see the point here? Jacob’s story is vastly different from those who would say that you had to be whole in body/mind so you could belong to the community of faith. People with physical ailments and mental issues who were regarded as demon possessed were excluded; the sorts of people Jesus reached out to. This rogue, this Jacob, broken in body, wasn’t excluded: he became the father of a nation.

I chose to read this part of Jacob’s story as a way of feeling our way into the 2 Corinthians lectionary reading for today, and what Paul was saying. Both of our readings, and certainly the gospels reveal to us the God who is not a divine, judgemental despot. Rather, God is the One who is compassion, who is womb like, the One who brings forth and nurtures life; doing so even as we wrestle with what are at times difficult concepts.

The language of this reading might seem strange as Paul seems to distance himself from what was a personal experience. The reason was that Paul wrote in a time of controversy and personal difficulty as he was under attack. Not wanting to big note himself Paul distances himself from what was a personal experience as he speaks of being caught up into the third heaven. This might seem strange thinking to us; however, I do wonder if some personal experiences of deep meditation come close to what Paul was saying using the thinking of his time?

Paul had a problem. We don’t know what the thorn in the flesh was. It could have been a physical problem which troubled him; although I have heard it speculated that the thorn could have been someone in the community who was a pain in the neck. 

Being a ‘good Christian person’ Paul was persistent and took his thorn to God in prayer, expecting it seems the thorn would be removed. Instead, he learnt something profound from the womblike, compassionate God; the God whose very nature is love. Paul learnt that grace, that love was sufficient – and can be made real in weakness; the weakness such as his ‘thorn’.

Earlier I alluded to people feeling that they felt inadequate as Christians as they were caught up in the whole laying on the burden of guilt power structure so prevalent in the church.

How different is that from what Paul is saying here?

Paul writes about love/grace aware of his own frailty; frailty which he sees as blessing. For him there is no need to boast, as others do, of spiritual prowess: the compassionate God is made real in weakness and frailty.

How good is that? What a contrast to those who want to proclaim guilt ridden judgementalism! There is no need to try to aspire to some sort of spiritual level which will please God, and you can then be Christian without feeling inadequate. There is no need for the mask of piety which disguises deep fear and insecurity. In your frailty there is compassion; accepting divine compassion. This is reality, yet many find it difficult to accept their own frailty.

It is from this reality the ethics, the call to live life with very different values, flow.

How does this speak to you? What does this mean for you, here and now in the call to live as people of hope proclaiming peace and justice?

It’ s not for me to answer those questions. Rather, I invite you to reflect on how Jacob and Paul speak to you, doing so I leave you with this reflection. Amen     

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart,

and try to love the questions themselves

as if they were locked rooms -

or books written in a very foreign language.

Do not search for the answers, which could not be given to you now,

because you might not be able to live them.

And the point is to live everything.

Live the questions now.

Perhaps then, someday, at sometime,

you will gradually,

without even noticing it, live (love) your way into the answer.