Proper 7/June 20, 2010/Fathers’ Day/Gal. 3:23-29/Luke 8:26-39

Prayer:  O God of love and life, your will for all people is health and salvation.

          Many years ago, a little girl with long brown corkscrew curls, dressed in a red Christmas sweater, picked up a book from under the tree.  Santa had brought her a beautiful book of stories.  She loved that book with its brightly colored pictures and accounts of magical Christmas events.  As she settled into the plush green chair in the living room, she opened the book to the story of a white horse in a snow globe that came to life and gave its young friends a ride across the star-spangled midnight sky.  The title of the story puzzled her, however.  She couldn’t pronounce it, so she ran to her Dad who, in those days, knew everything.  He sat down beside her on the green chair, pointed to the title, smiled and said, “Pegasus, the name of the story is Pegasus.  It’s about a white-winged horse.”  That was all she needed to know.  However, he didn’t stop at the title.  He read her the whole story.  

          In later years, she realized that what her Dad did that day, although a simple gesture, symbolized his personality and attitude toward life.  He did more than was expected for his family.  Many times he walked that proverbial extra mile.  He read his little girl the whole story…

          In 1907, a young woman named Sonora Dodd heard a Mothers’ Day sermon at her church, and decided that fathers also needed a special day.  Her father was a Civil War Vet who raised six children after his wife’s death.   On June 19, 1910, the YMCA and the local ministerial association worked to celebrate the first Fathers’ Day in Spokane, Washington.  People came to church wearing red roses to honor living fathers, and white roses to remember deceased dads.  Later that day, Sonora took her father’s horse drawn carriage and distributed gifts to sick and shut-in fathers.

                                                                                                                                 

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Today, Fathers’ Day 2010, we symbolically wear our red and white roses in our hearts to celebrate the contributions fathers and father figures have made and continue to make a difference in our lives.  Like Mothers’ Day, this holiday can be difficult for people who recall or currently experience a less than perfect relationship with their Dads—which includes all of us to a certain extent.  In this spirit, a woman wrote a prayer for all fathers:  “We thank you, O God, for fathers with strong arms and fathers with feeble knees; fathers present at table, at bathtub and at bedtime prayers.  We thank you, O God, for fathers far away who ache for their families, fathers who are absent because of war, disease or despair. We thank you, O God, for caring communities where mothers fill in for fathers and fathers fill in for mothers, and grandparents put on the apron and the towel, where aunts and uncles and those who are not related to us, make our communities a home fit for habitation.”  (www.gbod.org, 6-17-10)  And we thank you, O God, for fathers who don’t stop at the title, but read the whole story.

          Which brings us to the story in today’s gospel.  Who was this man?  We don’t know his name or what he did before he was afflicted.  Reflecting on this story, one preacher comments: “This man is someone’s son.  Maybe he was a husband, a father.  At one time, he played a role and had a place in society.  Yet now his life seems shattered and hopeless.  For those who have family members and friends, who for whatever reason merely exist among the tombs, the good news is that Jesus comes to this man, who ends up lucid, fully clothed and in his right mind.  When others turn their backs for unknown reasons, or when our words and deeds chase them away, God’s healing power remains to make all things right, even our minds and souls.” (adapted from David Cline, theology.org, June 17, 2010)

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          This healing occurs in Gentile territory, directly opposite from Galilee.  Jesus had to reach out and cross boundaries to restore this man.  We realize this is the journey we must take across the borders of our perceptions, ideologies and expectations.  However, these border crossings frighten us.  Look at the reaction of the people once the man is healed.  They were seized with great fear and asked Jesus to leave.  Wouldn’t joy have been a more appropriate response?  To welcome back a member of their community who has returned from the far country of physical disease and spiritual exile?  One scripture scholar reflects:  “Could the man have been judged less threatening in chains and shackles—controlled—rather than healed, whole and free?” (Ringe, p. 121)  Strange but true: when the man was possessed, they knew who he was and what to expect.  Preacher Fred Craddock states: “The people are not praising God that a man is healed; they are counting the cost, and finding it too much.” Jesus disrupted the status quo.  They can no longer scapegoat the man by focusing on his predicament and its impact on their town.  Now that he is healed, perhaps they will have to look inside at their own demons and name their own addictions, and that is never easy. 

          In the book, The Family and Pastoral Care, based on a family systems approach to counseling, the author states: “We are willing to trade the freedom to grow and change for the security of knowing that things will be like they have always been.” (p. 41) In our faith communities, places of employment, families and in our individual lives, change is difficult.  Change, which is equated with new life, demands that we abandon the all-too-familiar rut, and strike out on a new road.  Yet we wonder, “God, what will you require of us?  Where will this new road take us?  What is the risk of traveling it?  What if people criticize or reject me?”

          The demons or addictions we face—caffeine, nicotine, over or under eating, too much time online and texting, alcohol, exercise, television, shopping, work—provide temporary relief that helps us cope, but instead of applying band-aids to our wounded souls, we need to ask the Spirit’s guidance to access the root cause of words, deeds and attitudes that chain and enslave us.  Delving below the surface of life to get to the heart of the matter is never easy, but we don’t do it alone.  We support one another and God shepherds us so that we can keep what is living-giving and discard what is death-dealing.  In the process, according to one person, “Addiction can be quite a joy ride, but jumping off that ride can be as scary as staying on it.” (bythewaynashua.blogspot.com, 6-17-10)   However, when we jump, God is there with open arms to catch us.

          Perhaps we have shared our struggle with addictions with our earthly fathers, and they have shared their demons with us.  On this Fathers’ Day we recall how liberating it is to ask God our heavenly Father to help us face the demons we have named and to expunge them from our lives.  Then, like the man in the gospel, healed and in his right mind, we tell others the good news of what God has done and continues to do in our lives—in the words of Ephesians— to accomplish far greater things than we can ask or imagine. 

          Following the command of Jesus, let us return to our homes this day and declare God’s goodness and compassion, for God is like our own fathers and father figures who do more than we expect, who reach across boundaries separating us from God and from one another, who walk the proverbial extra mile, who don’t stop at the title, but read us the whole story!