When things happen in threes, I pay attention. Not because I'm superstitious, but because God seems to communicate to me through the bunching-up of reality. So, the three things:
Thing #1: my life - which has had its share of bad things (young widowhood, miscarriage, daughter with cancer). I've often wondered how to incorporate these struggles into my pastoral care and preaching.
Thing #2: future colleague, Mary, spent a few scary moments the other day as woman-overboard during a white water rafting trip. She was rescued, but in her underwater moments, terrified. I commented on her blog - 'what a host of sermon illustrations just happened to you...'
Thing #3: I was speaking with a friend yesterday (we share Dordt College as an alma mater). He graduated from Regent College in BC and is now a pastor in Sioux Center, IA. His wife is a brand new being-published fiction-writer. They've gone through their share of tough times - including three second-trimester miscarriages. And I asked him, how does what you have gone through show itself in your ministry?
It was his response that clinched the 'bunching-up' of reality. He said that it bothers him when people exploit the bad things that happen to them - - - using these stories to make sermons pop. "God doesn't place difficult times in my life to give me better sermon illustrations."
God speaks to me in the bunching-up.
But I'm not sure what God is saying exactly... Except to ask me to keep wondering. I don't have the answers here... But I have thought a lot about when (and when not to) and how (and how not) to tell one's story - from the pulpit - at the bedside.
So, I'll keep wondering - listening to the Spirit. Just as widowhood became less and less of a defining experience for me - so Samara's cancer will gradually cease to be the 'big story' of her life - and our lives.
And yet, as Nicholas Wolterstorff says in Lament for a Son - we need to keep the wound open - so that we do not forget - so that Death doesn't get prematurely healed over and blessed. Just because God works all things together for good, doesn't mean that the things - the bad things - the three things - are good things in and of themselves.
I hold the wound open - not externally - in order to bleed all over a congregation - but internally - so that I can hate the things that God hates - Death. Cancer. Miscarriage. Fear.
At least until that twinkling of an eye... when we will all be changed... healed... made alive.
Death will die.
But the scars - will they not remain?
"Then he said to Thomas, 'Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side.'"
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7 comments:
ooo. we need to talk about this topic. i'd love to hear more about this, since it's something i've been trying work through in terms of how i'm going to minister to people next year...
I disagree with your Dordt friend. I'm no pastor; I simply sit in the pew. But it seems to me that God does not send bad reality into your life. It seems to me that his purpose in allowing it would probably apply for more than just one person.
All life events affect others. Your blogging your way through Samara's cancer has affected me in very intimate ways. And I'm not talking about the mere telling of events. I'm talking about the way you handled the cancer -- the struggles with God, the obvious dependence on him. I know this affected many.
So would you not relay something from the pulpit that you would on the Internet, in a blog? This doesn't strike me as "exploitation", but as a bridging of the gap between the pulpit and the pew. The pastor really is a person; the pastor can touch me through her experience.
If you keep the wound open, it should touch others as well as affect you.
I agree with the above person. Sermons that talk about real-life and personal struggles touch my heart the most significantly.
Perhaps a clarifying comment...
I completely agree that God can use what's happened to me, to Tim, to Samara to touch others... I have and I will continue to encourage others with the encouragement that God has given me - from the pulpit/at the bedside... But the how and the when - these are the questions, I think... Because there are times when - as a pastor - your own story is not helpful - and you're sharing it - less because the other would be helped by that sharing - and more because you need to share it for your own healing...
I've learned to stop when my story is on the tip of my tongue - and discern the Spirit... am I just about to share because this would bring hope and healing to the other - or are there unhealthy motivations behind my sharing...?
Now - when I'm talking with friends - (as I consider you who read my blog - or who have read the CarePage to be) - I say whatever - because you all are ministers to me... and I find healing here...
Does that make sense?
I wonder if this balancing act, this kind of in-the-moment-discernment that you clarified is itself what creates a genuinely empathetic and healing space, particularly at the bedside or in a one-on-one encounter? I have experienced moments of this kind of strange space (I don't know how else to refer to it for now), and wonder about offering it. In any case, I like the wisdom of eschewing the yes or no, but working with your whole self in the moment.
(Hi, Heidi Sue--thanks for your comment on our blog!)
I've been through a bit myself; this afternoon, in fact, I found myself crying over the way some friends reacted (and still react) to me regarding a choice that I made for the Lord that resulted in deep loss for myself.
My husband tells me often that he doesn't know why God gave me the story He gave me. Every time we think we start to understand why, something new happens, and we see the circumstances of my life in a different way and impacting a different person.
What I've begun to realize is that it is not sharing my story in words that gives it value. It is how the events of my life have taught me more of God and His sovereignty, and how they have drawn me into a deeper understanding of His heart. It is not that I have a new illustration to give someone to consider as they face their problems--it is that I am daily gaining a new perspective on life itself.
Suffering takes us outside of ourselves into an understanding that we live in a fallen world, and if not for Christ, we would have no hope at all for redemption. That suffering proves our limitations to be the end of us, except for the newness of life we receive as we find faith in Jesus Christ outside of the umbrella of death.
We are ministers of reconciliation (2 Cor. 5) who have entered into the sufferings of Christ. Ultimately it is not the words we say, or the illustrations we give but the lives we live before those with whom we come into contact. As frethop said, if we keep the wound open for God to heal, it *will* touch others while affecting us.
We are only who we are. We can offer nothing else but Christ completing us.
Dear Heidi,
I'm afraid this has little to do with your most recent post and more to do with simply saying hello...
Thank you for your kind words and for this amazing, heartfelt blog. Aaron shared a bit of your story with me and it was one of those grounding moments--your strength and honesty is inspiring. It is very obvious to me that God is using you in remarkable ways.
May you and your family be richly blessed.
Warmly,
Nicole
PS - Thanks for the link in your blog to my website. Oh how I detest the whole publicity thing. It's much easier on me when others spread the word!
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