Never Alone

Scriptures:     I Kings 19:1-15, Psalm 42  

Galatians 3:23-29, Luke 8:26-39

Today’s Old Testament and Gospel readings give us portraits of two very different characters, both of whom are desperate, at the end of their ropes.  Elijah was a mighty prophet who had just faced down hundreds of priests of the false gods Baal and his female consort, Asherah.  The nameless man who lived in the tombs, by contrast, was driven by evil spirits far from his home and family, and driven into such a fragmented, distorted sense of consciousness that he gave his name as Legion.  Elijah understood himself as a champion for God, while the man in the tombs was as far from God as one could imagine.  Yet both came to experience weakness, brokenness, exhaustion – and both were healed, by the grace of God.

Elijah was a prophet in the days when King Ahab governed the northern kingdom of Israel – what would later in Jesus’ day be known as Samaria.   Ahab was a weak-willed man who was married to a foreign queen, Jezebel, who encouraged worship of the false gods Baal and his consort, Asherah.  Jezebel pulled Ahab in the direction of idol worship, while Elijah did all he could to call Ahab to return to God.  And, being a weak-willed man, Ahab tried to placate both Jezebel and Elijah.  Just before this morning’s reading, Elijah provoked a confrontation with the false priests. The priests of Baal and Asherah set up a sacrifice and then danced and whipped themselves into a frenzy as they called down fire on their sacrifice, but nothing came.   Then Elijah had set up an altar to the Lord, had it drenched with water over and over again, prepared a sacrifice and called down fire from heaven to consume it, even on the drenched altar – and fire came down from heaven.  God was vindicated, and the idolatrous priests were put to the sword.   Of course, Jezebel was enraged, and threatened Elijah with the same death as that of the false priests.

In confronting the false priests, Elijah spoke boldly and acted vigorously, at one point even running in front of Ahab’s chariot.  But as he fled from Jezebel’s threats, his spirit became as deflated as a tire with a nail in it.  He was not only physically exhausted but emotionally and spiritually drained, so much so that he asked God to die.  “It is enough, Lord; let me die, for I’m no better than my ancestors.”  He sensed that even his mighty confrontation with the idolatrous priests would not be enough to call Ahab and his people to be faithful to God.

At this point God could have chastised Elijah for his weakness – but he didn’t.  Instead, God provided for Elijah’s physical needs, sending an angel with food and drink and allowing Elijah to rest.  At the same time, he did not excuse Elijah from his mission, but did provide a successor, Elisha, to continue the work after Elijah departed the scene - which Elijah did in a memorable way, as God sent a chariot and horses of fire and caught Elijah up to heaven in a whirlwind.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus and his disciples sailed across the Sea of Galilee into Gentile territory, to the country of the Gerasenes.  They met a man who was controlled by evil spirits.  We’re told that he wore no clothes, that he couldn’t be restrained with chains or shackles, and that he lived among the tombs.  Mark’s version of this story (Mark 5:1-20) provides additional detail, saying that the man howled night and day and cut himself with stones.  When Jesus asked the man his name, the man said his name was “Legion”, for he was possessed by thousands of spirits – in the Roman army, a legion was composed of 5,000 men, to give us some idea. Curiously, as Jesus began to cast out the spirits, the spirits negotiated with Jesus to be allowed to enter a herd of pigs that was feeding nearby – and when Jesus granted their request, the pigs ran headlong into the sea and drowned.   This detail may give us some sense of the effort it took for this man just to survive and not be driven completely to self-destruction.  After Jesus drove out the demons, the man was in his right mind – but the owners of the herd of  pigs were understandably upset, and begged Jesus to go away.  They may also have been threatened by the formerly possessed man being in his right mind – before, he had been a manageable nuisance, but who knew what he might do after being restored to  his right mind. The man wanted to travel with Jesus, but instead Jesus told the man to return to his home and proclaim all that God had done for him – which he did.

These stories seem far from our experience.  And yet, there are mental illnesses whose symptoms are strikingly similar to those of Elijah and the man in the tombs.  Elijah’s rapid transition from frenzied activity to total inertia and collapse bears a striking resemblance to the symptoms of bipolar disorder.  And there are any number of homeless persons with untreated mental illness, whose disease reduces them to circumstances and prompts self-destructive behavior only slightly less disturbing than that of the man living in the tombs. Not that I’m trying to psychoanalyze characters n Scripture – I’m not a therapist, nor do I play one on TV – but the resemblances are striking.  At this point I need to make very clear:  in our day, we do not attribute mental illness to demonic activity.  Medical science has learned a great deal since the time of Jesus about the workings of the brain, and yet there is much more to learn.  Many decades ago, early psychiatrists and psychologists were confident that most mental illness was attributable to factors in the patient’s childhood, and that these could be cured by talk therapy.  Later came generations of psychotropic medications that promised a shorter path to wholeness than that of years- and decades-long courses of talk therapy – but these medications often had unwanted side effects such as tremors and weight gain, and sometimes became ineffective after years or decades of use.   Today there are many theories of the causation of mental illness – childhood upbringing, response to trauma, chemical imbalance in the brain - and many schools of thought as to the most effective treatment.

Why am I going on about all this?  Or perhaps a more helpful version of the same question is, “What is the role of the church in all this?”  Mental illness carries a stigma that physical illness doesn’t.  This stigma comes from many sources – from associations still present in many churches between mental illness and demonic activity, with the related sense that mental illness can be prayed away.  I’m not saying that prayer has no role in response to mental illness, but it cannot be the only or even the primary option for treatment  Stigma also comes from  movies that depict mental patients as violent, such as the Halloween movies with escaped mental patient Michael Myers  Part of the stigma comes, I think, because mental illness often is not visible in the way that physical illness is, and there’s a sense that if it isn’t visible to the eye, it isn’t real.  There’s a mistaken belief among some that mentally ill persons are just emotional weaklings who feel a need to take happy pills in order to get through the day – and nothing could be further from the truth.  And yet, while we wouldn’t presumably wouldn’t look down on someone for taking antibiotics to combat an infection or taking insulin to manage diabetes, many do look down on those who take meds to manage depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and other mental illnesses.

Mentally ill persons are our neighbors, our family members – and our parishioners.  According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, one in five adults will experience an episode of mental illness in any given year – and the statistics for children and youth aren’t that different.   Other sources say that statistic is closer to one in four.  I believe the church has two roles: to educate parishioners and the general public in order to destigmatize mental illness, and to accompany mentally ill persons, parishioners and otherwise, through the unique challenges of their lives.   It’s one thing to suffer; a much more difficult matter to suffer alone.  The burden of even the most devastating circumstances can be lightened by being shared.  Knowing that one is not alone with one’s pain can be the beginning of healing.  Support groups can likewise provide a path and companions on the journey to greater wholeness. Our sister congregation, St. Luke’s, offers a Memory Café to provide persons affected by dementia, along with their family members a time of mutual support.   Our denomination’s Mental Health Network offers a variety of resources.  To be perfectly candid, years ago, their website seemed behind the times both in its design and in the information it offered, but they seem to have stepped up their game considerably in recent years.

Even persons who are otherwise mentally healthy can feel exhausted and overwhelmed from time to time.  And just as Elijah rested and consumed the food and drink provided by the angel before resuming his ministry, self-care can be the key to renewal.  I want to say a few words about my sabbatical, which has arrived.  First of all, I am incredibly grateful for the gift you are giving me in allowing me to be away for eight Sundays.  It’s a gift that I hope will allow me to avoid the perils of burnout and to catch up on months of backlogged reading and to take courses to improve my pastoral skills.  Statistics for the tenure of pastors are sobering – on average, 80% of new seminary graduates leave ministry within five years; pastors leave their current call to seek a new call on average every seven years, and it is said that only one in ten of those who are authorized as pastors will retire as pastors– that is to say, many, perhaps most, of those who are educated and authorized and called to be pastors crash and burn after some number of years in ministry, and give up their ministries to pursue other vocations.  For me, being pastor at Emanuel has been an incredible blessing, with opportunities to meet and minister to – and minister alongside of – men, women and children who are on beautiful journeys of faith, opportunities to do vital, transformative ministry here in this space while meeting real needs in the community.  At the same time, it also has been draining – perhaps doubly so since I also have a demanding full-time job, and so Sunday afternoon is really my only downtime most weeks, if I even get that much downtime - and I’ve felt my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual reserves running low – a bit like when the red check engine light comes on in your car, telling you to service engine soon.  Ignore it, and you will soon be stranded thumbing a ride.   To use another image, it’s impossible to pour water from an empty pitcher.   Jesus compared himself to living water – but we as Christians, pastors and lay persons alike,  are not the source of the living water,  but only the pots and pitchers and pipelines that carry the living water to others.  I’ve been pouring water for others for a while now, and need to take some time to drink of the waters myself and to refill my pitcher, so that I can be there to pour out water for others in the future.  

Some thoughts about the next eight weeks.  What I’m taking is actually somewhat of a sabbatical-light.  Most sabbaticals run three months; I’m taking two.  Also, while I will not be here for the next eight Sunday mornings, I will be available for pastoral emergencies – requests for hospital visits or home visits in time of severe illness, and funerals.  But that’s for true emergencies only, not for routine conversation or phone calls or texts, and absolutely not for requests for assistance.  Carol will be available, in conjunction with the Bridesburg food cupboard, to help with requests for food.  Cash assistance or assistance with SEPTA fare cards will not be available.  By and large, rides will also not be available.  Some can get here on SEPTA, but not all.  We hope you’ll be with us when I return in late August.

The Sunday worship schedule is printed in the bulletin.  We have coverage for six of the eight Sundays, and our leadership team – Margie, Gail, Carol, Jim, Barbara – will organize worship on the remaining two Sundays.  These two Sundays – one of which is next week - could really be special, memorable moments in the life of the congregation.  Likewise, I hope the sabbatical as a whole will be a time of new learning for all of us, a time that not only brings the congregation together, but enables you, the members, to take more ownership over the work of Emanuel Church.  I’ve already told our leadership team that my first question when I come back will be, “What have you learned?”

Our elders and deacons have committed to guiding this church, not only through the sabbatical, but for the longer term.  Church leadership is often a thankless task – folks tend to take for granted when things go well, but to beat the leaders’ ears when things go less well.   Our leaders will be doing some things for the first time – printing up the bulletins, handling the prayer chain, among others.   Please express gratitude to them for taking this on, and please be patient with their learning moments, as you’ve been patient with mine. 

After spending some time teaching his disciples, Jesus sent them out two-by-two on their first mission.  Jesus wasn’t with them, and yet they weren’t alone, because the power of God was with them, and they did miracles, healing and casting out demons.  In a sense this sabbatical time will be for you a little like the disciples’ first mission – and the power of God will be with you, as it was with those first disciples. 

Elijah did mighty deeds for God, and then, like Icarus who got too close to the sun, he crashed and burned – but God did not abandon  him.  He was not left to be alone.  The man with demons was not abandoned by God either.  He was the only person Jesus healed on his trip to the land of the Gerasenes – so we could say Jesus made a side trip just for him.  In our times of discouragement, we are never alone – God watches over us, and we can watch over one another.  May God’s powerful love equip and guide this congregation in days ahead.  Amen.