November 16, 2008
Rev. Kip Gilts

            Many years ago a church member started giving me tapes of Max Lucado’s sermons.  I am not sure if she was trying to give me a hint or provide me with the opportunity to hear someone else preach.  Whatever the motivation I was appreciative.  I discovered something interesting in those tapes.  At the end of every one of those sermons he said the same thing.  He said, “The one who spoke still speaks.”  I liked that.

For quite some time we have been focusing on the stories of the windows.  These windows were placed in this sanctuary in 1951.  They have told their stories to thousands upon thousands of people in the last 57 years.  They are not merely stories meant to entertain; they are inspiring stories that are intended to breathe life into us.  The one who spoke still speaks through these stories. 

Last week we focused on the story of “The Sower”.  We learned of Jesus’ parables and that in this window, every one of us can find ourselves.  We are either those who hear, but don’t really listen; those who hear and receive, but wither away when presented with expectations; those who hear and believe, but are choked out by the cares of this world; or we are followers yielding a bountiful harvest.  Although it is a beautiful window, it was a little hard to look at it.    

Today we look at the window entitled, “The Healing Window.”  Whereas last week we recalled what Jesus said in his teachings, this week we focus on what he did and his acts of mercy.  We come to a story often referred to as a transitional story, an account that gets the reader from the cities of Tyre and Sidon in southern Lebanon to the region around the familiar Sea of Galilee.  It is only a few verses, but try to listen to it from the perspective of one touched by Jesus on this day.  The story is found in Matthew 15:29-32^a. Hear now the Word of the Lord:

²⁹After Jesus had left that place, he passed along the Sea of Galilee, and he went up the mountain, where he sat down. ³⁰Great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the maimed, the blind, the mute, and many others. They put them at his feet, and he cured them, ³¹so that the crowd was amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the maimed whole, the lame walking, and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel. ³²Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for the crowd,

This is the word of God for the people of God.  In this passage Matthew reported on the power and pathos of Jesus.  Let us pray.

Three verses that describe three days of miracles – that’s what I call succinct. Look at this window.  It too is rather terse: a couple of crutches, a hand from heaven, and the eternal circle to let us know that the eternal God is involved in this.  As you look at this window I have good news for you in two statements. First, you are in this window also.  Second, the one who healed still heals. 

Crutches still carry the infirmed.

Obviously those who were mentioned by Matthew were not all aided by crutches.  Crutches are of little use to those who can’t speak or can’t see.  So we must accept the crutches as a symbol of all the infirmities addressed by Jesus, the Healer.  In this passage the writer paints the picture of people bringing to Jesus their friends and relatives who were infirmed: the sightless, the speechless, the physically deformed, and those unable to walk.  These were individuals not only suffering from physical limitations, but accompanying limitations. In those days, such ailments were seen as physical manifestations of a spiritual problem.  Someone sinned.  There was also the perception that in some way this could be contagious, so the infirmed were excluded socially, burdened spiritually, and as is still generally the case, deprived economically.  There was a whole basket of problems that came with each diagnosis.  That is often the case today.  As you see these crutches in the window, know that crutches still carry the infirmed.

I wonder what Gibb Gilchrist’s infirmity was.  He and his wife, Vesta, donated this window to this church.  Gilchrist is a familiar name around here.  Chancellor Gilchrist was born in Wills Point, Texas in 1887.  He attended Southwestern University in Georgetown and some school in Austin, that will go unnamed and unhissed.  He served twice as the State Highway Engineer, taking a break during the tenure of one Governor with whom he did not see eye to eye.  He later became the Dean of the School of Engineering, the 17^th President of Texas A&M, and in 1948 was named as the Chancellor of the newly formed Texas A&M system.  In addition to these prestigious positions, there was a town named after him on the Bolivar Peninsula, just east of Rollover Pass, that was all but destroyed by Hurricane Ike two months ago.  The ferry that takes workers back and forth from Galveston is named the Gibb Gilchrist.  Oh yes, there is also a Gibb Gilchrist Building in Research Park designed to meet the needs of the leading edge transportation  research.  Can it be that this man who accomplished so much also had infirmities?  I am confident of this, because I know one thing about us humans.  We all need crutches.

That was my promise that in this window each of us can be found.  What is it that Jesus would see in you?  What infirmity would your crutches carry?  Would it be an old wound that still aches, a gnawing sense that it will never be enough, shame, guilt, a physical infirmity or disease?  As you look at these crutches and acknowledge your infirmity, hear the good news – The one who healed still heals. 

Christ still cares for the infirmed.

I love how the gospel writer described Jesus’ response to the needs of those who were placed at his feet.  While Matthew described the people with different categories,  He used only three words for Jesus’ response, “kai therapateuen autous,” which translated means, “and he cured them.”  That’s all.  There are thirty-four other accounts of Jesus healing people.  With some he entered into dialogue, spit on the ground, spoke words of healing; but here it is a simple account, “kai therapateuen autous,” which translated means, “and he healed them.” For three days he healed them. Then he called the disciples over to him and said to them, “I have compassion for the crowd.”  It was as though he wanted to make this quite clear to his disciples.  Christ still cares for the infirmed.  Most commentators believe that this was the Gentile region of the Sea of Galilee, where the Golan Heights now exist.  These seem to be outsiders by everyone’s standards and yet Jesus’ statement is, “I have compassion for the crowd.”

A couple of weeks ago one of our college student’s remarked that our relationship was purely caffeine based, that is, all we ever talk about is coffee and the coffee shop.  I decided to do something about this and downloaded some questions on how to get to know someone better.  One of the questions was, “What is the kindest thing that anyone has ever done for you?”  The student’s answer was significant and my answer was quite significant to me.  However, I started thinking this week how many people from those three days that Jesus stopped by would have said, “The kindest thing anyone has ever done for me was the day that Jesus stopped by.”  I could almost see in my mind’s eye tears well up in their eyes as one by one they would share stories of compassion and caring and healing and hope that they had never known.

As I reflected on the stories that must have been generated there by the Sea of Galilee I began to think of the difference that knowing Christ cares has made in my life.  There have been moments in my life when Jesus stopped by.  There have been so many times when the knowledge of Christ’s grace and the sense of Christ’ touch has transformed my day and my life.  When I look at those crutches in the window I realize that I am broken, I am wounded, that I need Jesus.  When I look at the hand in the window I remember that Christ still cares.  The one who healed still heals. 

Crowds are still amazed by his compassion.

Matthew is quick to point out that the crowd was amazed when they saw what Jesus’ compassion did for those that they had brought to him.  They were made whole.  They were given hope.  They were touched and it made all the difference in the world. Outsiders were let inside.

I have been reading the daily reports from our representatives in Cote d’Ivoire and they are amazing.  Thirty-five Methodists from the Texas Annual Conference are in the process of delivering one million nets as part of a nationwide health initiative.  Nancy Kellond, one of the pastors on the trip shared the following: As we all sat in the relative comfort of the plastic chairs in the shade of the tent, mothers got in line with their babies and young children. The babies and youngest toddlers ride around on their mother’s backs – snuggled in between her shoulder blades, peeking out at the world. Some mothers have several little ones – one on her back, one of more hovering around her legs – some being shepherded through the line by older siblings. Since the program covers babies older than nine months to children who are five, we really saw the smallest members of the community.  At my site, which was located in the town center, the line snaked several blocks down the street. Mom’s stood patiently – some for hours. After they registered each child, the child would receive an open capsule of Vitamin A. For the looks on their faces, it couldn’t have tasted good. Then, they got a white, chewable tablet, which looked chalky and not too appetizing.  Then the mom would sit down, pull the child onto her lap and pull up the little one’s left shirt sleeve in preparation for the measles vaccination… As we tickled the little one’s tummy to soothe the hurt; when we saw the dimples in those tiny   smiling cheeks; when that mom looked me in the eyes, held my hand and said, “Merci, Madame,” – I knew that for once, for real, my faith and my works were in complete accord – and for once, for real, God was guiding my work, not me!

Our own Linda Marr sent her report yesterday of similar events.  She told of one man who has only one child, so he invited other children to sleep in the newly treated tent with his child.  She reported on one man coming to Christ because of the compassion shown by nets being delivered to save lives.  Linda signed off by writing, “I had thought from the beginning that this trip was God’s trip and I certainly knew it at that point.  Thanks to all of those from A&M United Methodist Church for supporting this great cause and for your prayers for me.  I have many stories to tell and video footage of Aggie Yell Practice in Cote d’Ivoire so see you soon!”  Crowds are still amazed by Christ’s compassion.

Do you want to amaze someone this week?  Show them the compassion of Christ.  The one who healed still heals.  Amen.