March 25, 2007: RELATIONAL HEALING
Luke 8:40-56, Isaiah 58:6-11, Psalm126
Eileen Parfrey       Springwater Presbyterian Church

The term "chutzpah" comes to mind. As in, "She's got chutzpah to preach on relational healing!" As if a divorced woman whose daughter barely spoke to her for eight years, has an authoritative voice in relational healing. It made sense back in January when I planned this series. I needed four sermon topics and "relational" seemed to fill out the spiritual, emotional, physical types of healing. It wasn't until Monday that it began to sink in: I was going to have to preach about this! Of the limited options available, preaching about relational healing seemed the most attractive-to talk at you about the subject. But integrity calls me to admit that not all my relationships have been healed. I'm no authority on "fixed," but I'm all about the on-going nature of God's healing activity.

There are many kinds of relationships-those we have with God, other humans, all of creation. Much as it would please Al Gore if we talked about our relationship with the planet, I'm going to limit the discussion today to relations between humans. As if human relationship didn't have a gigantic scope! Parent/children, student/teacher, between spouses, friends, lovers, peers, colleagues, even enemies. How to start?

There's something about peace that might help define healing. I take my understanding from the Hebrew word shalom, which we often translate as "peace." But shalom is both deeper and broader than peace, more than lack of conflict. Relationships don't have to involve open fighting to be considered broken, to be in need of shalom. A relationship that embraces shalom is about individual and mutual wholeness, right is about relationship, reconciliation, good mental and emotional health, mutual accountability.

At the last presbytery meeting, presbyters were asked to engage in an exercise based on the findings of the Peace, Unity, Purity report, itself the result of a lengthy process attempting to help the denomination come to grips with our disagreements regarding ordination standards and how to talk about Jesus. Don MacKinnon told you a little about that experience a couple of weeks ago. Our small groups were led in discussing a couple of questions. First, we were asked to cite what we as a denomination agree on. It was easier to list what we disagreed about, but that wasn't the question, so we soldiered on and discussed what we gained by reconciling and lost by fighting. Finally, we were asked as individuals to write down and then share concrete things we could do personally to bring about reconciliation.

It was a good process, and I can see where it would be useful in situations other than church. Around the house, for instance. It's those times around the house that are hardest, aren't they? Man, some days wouldn't you rather fight than do the hard work of relational healing? What is it about arguing with another person-especially someone you are close to-that makes it so hard to stop escalating? Sometimes I would rather be right than reconcile. Especially if I've been hurt. If you keep on fighting, it's easier to punish the other, to prove how much they've hurt you. It's one way of appearing right.

I wish that bloody woman hadn't been required to tell why she'd touched Jesus. Just touching him should have been enough. The gospel writers could have left it as a private healing. But no, she must acknowledge the exact nature of her illness, tell the truth of how she had suffered for twelve years with isolation and shunning, and then relate her miraculous healing. Truth telling was the only way to begin to heal her relationship with the community.

Telling the truth about the broken relationship and acting on it. As if to prove their daughter is healed, the parents are instructed to act like parents: give her something to eat. When former General Assembly moderator, Rick Ufford-Chase was in town in February, he said, "We find energy in acting." He was speaking about missional community, where every action taken within a congregation, everything the individual members do, is an exercise of faith. It made me wonder, as I read the Isaiah text, whether acting for justice is what gives us the energy to heal broken, stuck relationships.

Matthew, Sheila, and John Linn have written several books about forgiveness. They describe Jesus' "third way" of nonviolent engagement, a way of maintaining relational power by choosing to respond to mistreatment or injustice or abuse, to respond with integrity and dignity, instead of by being a passive victim. Jesus' way is about human dignity, both the so-called "victim's" dignity as well as the oppressor's. The Linns' take on relational healing is that, "Forgiveness means we renounce vengeance and retaliation, but it does not mean passive acquiescence to abuse." Or, as the prophet asks on behalf of God, "Is this not the fast that I choose, to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free?"

The Linns describe five stages of relational healing or forgiveness, stages that might remind you of the stages of grief. As I outline them, I invite you to bring to mind one of your relationships in need of healing. You may find yourself resisting this. The relationship may be painful, but at least it's familiar pain. You might find hanging onto the pain more comfortable than healing, at least at first. Perhaps you'd like others to see how much you've been injured. Or you want admiration for what you've endured. Or you want to hurt back. After all, what you've experienced is unjust and unfair. But to hang on is not only time consuming, friends, it's exhausting, and it's only you who hurts. Just for today, just for the rest of this sermon, for God's sake (if not your own), be willing to let go of the pain. Present it to God for healing. That bloody woman spent everything she had on doctors for twelve years and didn't get a thing out of it except impoverished. What have you got to lose? Ask God which relationship needs healing, allow Holy Spirit to point out what you can do about it. What you stand to gain is freedom. And a whole lot more time and energy for positive relationships. Maybe for one with God ("forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors"). Or maybe for "Is this not the fast I choose?"

Now that you have that relationship in mind, these are the stages of forgiveness. See where you are. The first stage is denial. "I'm not hurt." Then comes anger and blame. "It's all the other person's fault." Then bargaining. "I'll forgive them if . . ." That's not very successful, but the next stage is my personal favorite, depression. "It's all my fault." Finally comes acceptance. "I can accept and forgive what happened, because I experience gifts coming out of the hurt."

You may move back and forth between these stages, because nothing is as complicated as human relationships, and healing a broken one is never in a straight line. But eventually the attitude of gratitude will have its way. More than "make friends with the pain," this is receiving as gift what you learn from the pain and through the process of coming to forgiveness. Accept that God is stronger and bigger and more powerful than even your hurt. Understand and accept the gifts of pain, the gifts of healing-insights into yourself or others, maybe it's the experience of your own vulnerability and the sheer glory of being only human (and not all-powerful). Give thanks for this opportunity to trust in God's power to heal rather than your power to fix. What's in it for you? More energy for positive activities. A closer relationship with God. Richer, deeper relationships with other humans. Freedom. Fullness of life. Healing. What's not to love about that?