Hosea
11:1-4; John 19:25b-27
The Gospel of John turns on a
powerful, darkness-dispelling spotlight and shines it right upon Jesus standing
center stage in every scene. This radiance is especially dramatic during Jesus’
most amazing, gracious act of love for us … during his crucifixion. It broke through the shady scheme of the
Roman soldiers casting lots for their famous victim’s tunic. It broke through the terrible dehydration
of taking last breaths upon a cross. The
scene stealing, power-switching sound of this spotlight being turned on comes
to our ears with the words, “Meanwhile, standing by the cross of Jesus…”
I think the adverb “meanwhile” can sometimes
sound like a little bit of extra color commentary happening off to the side of
something much bigger. We say things
like, “There was a huge traffic jam on Rt. 78 making me late for work. Meanwhile, I just sipped from my travel mug of
coffee and talked to Siri.” In this
morning’s Gospel lesson, however, this word is not used in any incidental
way. It very intentionally calls our
attention to life-giving reality in the midst of sorrow, suffering, death
itself. John makes sure we know that
the ministry of holy caregiving through community was going to live on long
after Jesus declared “mission accomplished” from the cross.
What better way to do so than to
remind us of a mother’s love? To highlight
Mary and her selfless, unique devotion to the son she delivered to be the
Savior of the World. Hers was both the
deep, undaunted love of being both his mother and his disciple. So there she stood by the foot of the cross,
by the tortured feet of her firstborn child.
Many others associated with Jesus’ radical movement had fearfully
abandoned hope. After all, standing there
in open support of a condemned criminal of the Roman Empire was a dangerous
thing to do. Yet this did not deter
Jesus’ mom. Her undying love was going
to stand by him to the very end. Her magnifying
faith in the mighty, miraculous, liberating and life-saving power of God was
going to radically transcend the unjust reality of what was happening to her
child. I believe this mother and
disciple trusted that the crucifixion was not an ending but an exodus.
Meanwhile, as all this was
happening, the selflessly intense light of Jesus was focused on what his mom’s life
could be like without her eldest son physically walking beside her and helping
to take care of her. Though not stated
anywhere in the Bible, it’s widely believed that her husband Joseph had died by
the time of Jesus’ final journey through Jerusalem. In that ancient, male-dominated culture, it was
normally a social and economic tragedy to become a widow. She was among the most vulnerable members of
society. She wore distinct garb as a
sign of her impoverished status. She
suffered severely restricted rights. In
short, the death of a husband was sort of a cultural death for the wife.[i]
John’s Gospel makes sure we don’t
miss that this is what was on Jesus’ mind during his final earthbound
minutes. This concern and caregiving
for the most marginalized of God’s children. The sinful capital punishment was being
carried out, but meanwhile, at the very same time, the sacred loving bonds of
family and faith community were being further instituted. And so Jesus looked down at his mother and at John,
the disciple very near and dear to him.
He spoke to redefine their relationship in the light of his life’s
work. John would be like a son to Mary,
and Mary would be like a mother to John.
As a member of John’s household, she would be socially and economically
cared for and protected in that ancient, oppressive culture. And in
response, she would remain intimately involved in caring for those who were her
children as well as those who were her church family. Followers of Christ, then and now, are
constantly called to be caregivers of one another through community.
I was meditating on this passage all
throughout my unexpected trip to Florida earlier this week to attend to my
mom’s current healthcare crisis. Jesus’
words of “here is your mother” reverberated through me every time I met a new
person in the nursing home rehabilitation center. I was pleased that many of them readily
identified themselves as Christians. In effect, I did a lot of saying to these
sister and brothers, “Here is my mother.”
I did so in an affirming, encouraging way to build up the strong bonds
of community caregiving. I wanted to help the whole staff see her as Linda
– a child of God, a disciple of Jesus, a much loved mother, grandmother, sister
and aunt -- and not just as the latest Medicaid resident in Room 11. And I also did so because I can relate to
the little boy who once forgot his lines in a church play. His mother was, of course, right there for
him in the front row. Realizing her
son’s mind had gone blank about his lines, she leaned forward and whispered a
cue, saying, “I am the light of the world.”
That little boy’s face lit right up like the spotlight throughout John’s
Gospel. Then, in a loud clear voice he
declared, “My mother is the light of the world!” Jesus, of course, is the Light, but my mom’s love for me is most definitely a beautiful light
in my life.
I know many of you have been and
continue to be caregivers for your mothers and other loved ones. I also
know many of you have very positive relationships with those who offer
professional, loving care when you aren’t there. And for nine years I’ve witnessed how
consistently faithful caregiving has been shared in this community of FPC
family and friends. Our capacity to
come together as caregivers for one another, to faithfully stand by those who
mean the world to us and by our neighbors in need both near and far, rests
securely in the hope of God’s death-defying, life-liberating and forgiving love
through Jesus Christ. This is hope for
each day and for the future. Being
caregivers in Christ is synonymous with being hope-givers in Christ.
Practically speaking, what does this
look like in our daily lives? In 1998,
I flew to St. Louis for training in how to lead a special congregational
caregiving ministry that exists in many of our larger sister churches. It’s called Stephen Ministry. As a full-time pastoral intern in a very
large program church that hosted this ministry, I helped train and supervise
congregational members to offer high-quality, confidential, Christ-centered
care to people who are hurting.
Stephen Ministry was founded by
Kenneth C. Haugk, a pastor and clinical psychologist. In the final chapter of his book Christian
Caregiving: A Way of Life, he states nine practical ways all of us can be faithful
caregivers. We haven’t the time to
speak in detail about all nine, but I’ll at least list them with one comment from
the author. Here
are the “nine practical ways you can become an instrument through which
distinctively Christian hope can flow into others” --
[1] Stick with one another. Offering
a “consistent, caring presence through thick and thin instills hope. “ [2] Be Available. “Hope is fostered by letting people know
they can be in touch with you.” [3] Reduce Anxiety. “A problem shared is a problem halved …
anxiety reduction can be very hope-producing itself.” [4]
Share Stories. “Sometimes
hopelessness comes about because people believe their problems are totally
unique.” [5] Accept Others. “By
communicating acceptance to others despite their problems and sins – just as
Jesus does with you – you can produce great hope.” [6] Emphasize the Positive. “Sometimes
individuals feel so broken that they can no longer discover anything good in
themselves.” [7] Realize Failures and Limitations.
“You can take heart that your own weaknesses and failures are
opportunities for God’s strength to show itself, and you can lovingly
communicate the same to another.” [8] Jesus is With You. “Jesus is not only in you, but with you –
with both the caregiver and the care receiver.”
[9] Be Distinctively Christian. “The language
of hope is one aspect of Christian caregiving. The fact
of hope is what Christian care aims for.”
May we keep these practical points
in mind and heart as we celebrate the bonds of truly caregiving love on this
day and every day. May we remember how
the Light of our Savior shines through every darkness. May we stand by Jesus as our Lord stands by
us. Amen!
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