"Jesus: Our doula" : Sermon for Sunday 18 November 2018
Sermon for Sunday 18 November 2018
Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem
The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and
the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
 |
| 2002, from my years working as a doula (labor and birth assistant) |
This summer, I took my 17-year-old son
to the University of Chicago for a prospective student visit. It’s truly a beautiful
campus, with large, stately buildings that make it seem you’re somewhere in the
English countryside rather than the South Side of Chicago. As we walked along with
the group, we noticed there were many buildings undergoing massive external renovations.
The tour guide explained this is a constant problem and has to do with that pseudo-English
countryside look. Apparently, when the millionaire John D. Rockefeller founded
the school in 1890, he wanted it to seem as if it had been there for centuries—so
he instructed the builders to use a stone treatment technique that would prematurely
age the stones.
And—it worked! The buildings do look
old.
And they are also falling down.
That special aging process has been eroding the stones quickly from the very
first day. It turns out the desire to have a new campus that looks centuries old
has created a centuries-long maintenance nightmare. Of course, the university has
a large endowment and plenty of alumnae who will donate to keep the buildings in
good shape, but still—like every structure in our world that seems permanent,
that seems to have stood forever—the new/old stones of the University of Chicago
will one day come tumbling down.
Which brings us to this morning’s
Gospel text from the 13th chapter of Mark. In last week’s Gospel reading,
Jesus called the disciples to his side to point out a widow putting her last
two small coins in the temple treasury. “Truly, this poor widow has put in more
than all the others,” he told them.
But immediately after, the disciples
decided to point something out to Jesus. “Look, Teacher!” one of the disciples
said. “What large stones and large buildings!”
Something tells me they didn’t really
understand Jesus’ point about the widow and her tiny offering. In spite of his
clear object lesson, the disciples were still impressed by the grand, by the
ostentatious, by the expensive. They were still judging greatness by the world’s
standards.
So Jesus asked them, “Do you see these
great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be
thrown down.”
All will be thrown
down!
For the disciples standing in the
temple plaza, looking at the massive stones making up its foundation, and at the
buildings of the area which must have been so much grander than anything in
their fishing villages, such news must have sounded terrifying. Could the
temple really be destroyed—and wouldn’t that be the end of everything? What kind
of event could cause these great stones to fall? An earthquake? A war? The end
of the world? And when will all of this happen?
Of course, they had questions! Of
course, they wanted to know everything they could!
But Jesus didn’t provide them with the
answers they wanted. Instead, he said:
“When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do
not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation
will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be
earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning
of the birthpangs.”
This is but the beginning
of the birthpangs. In other words:
When stones like these are thrown down, when such structures and institutions fall,
for sure there will be chaos. It will probably hurt. It may feel like
the end! But it’s not the end at all—it’s the beginning! Something new is about
to be born.
That phrase from this morning’s text, “the
beginning of the birth pangs”, has set me thinking this week about the years
before church ministry, when I worked as a doula, or labor and birth
assistant. Doula is a Greek word that means “slave” or “servant”, and we
encounter it often in the Gospels, for example when Jesus says “Whoever wants
to be great among you must be servant (doulos) of all.” (Mark 10:44)
But in the context of childbirth, a doula
is one who accompanies a pregnant woman through labor and birth, walking by her
side until the new baby is born. As I thought this week about Jesus’ comment
about the “beginning of the birthpangs”, I remembered that I would often give expectant
couples a questionnaire about their hopes for the labor process. The questions
were all multiple choice, and I tried to make them a bit funny.
For example, the question about using
pain medication during labor gave these possible answers:
A. I don’t want it at all, ever. Don’t
even give it if I beg for it!
B. I hope I won’t need it, but I am open
to it if needed.
C. I definitely expect to use pain
medication during active labor.
D. I want an epidural when I arrive in
the hospital parking lot!
Now, that last one was included for humor.
But I was continually surprised at how many people would actually choose D: “I
want drugs in the hospital parking lot!”
Whenever that happened, I knew we
needed to have a heart-to-heart talk:
“Listen,” I would say.
“I know the
whole idea of labor and birth is scary. It will feel out of control. It will
feel like everything you know is falling away, tumbling down around you. It’s
tempting to want to bypass the hard stuff—but the truth is, there’s no such
thing as pain-free birth. There’s no such thing as a labor-free labor! This is
going to be hard, because all change is hard. But I will be with you the whole
time.”
And then, in due time, the birthpangs
would start, and I would rush to the mother’s side. It was always hard. It was
always a bit out of control. And it was always beautiful to see new life come
into the world.
Dear siblings in Christ, it feels like
an out of control time in the world right now. There are wars in many places
and rumors of war in many more—including right here between Israel and Gaza. Yemen
is facing a horrifying humanitarian disaster. Nearly 10,000 homes have burned
to the ground and more than 1,000 people are missing in Paradise, California (what
a sadly ironic name!) Mass shootings have become so frequent it’s hard to keep
track of them. The cumulative effect of these current events can surely make it
feel like we are nearing the end—the end of time, the end of civilization, the end
of the world as we know it. Sometimes all this suffering and chaos makes me join
the disciples in asking Jesus, “Is this it, then, Teacher? Are these the signs
of the end?”
But then I remember that other stones are
falling, too.
Some structures that needed to be
thrown down are finally being disrupted.
White supremacy, patriarchy, greed,
xenophobia—all are having their foundations shaken. They aren’t going quietly,
but they are going down!
And this helps me to remember that when big
changes happen, it always feels chaotic. It often does feel like the end. If a
person felt the pain of labor and didn’t know a baby was on the way, of course you
would be alarmed. Of course, you would wonder: “Is this the end?!”
But we have heard the Good News. We know
Christ is crucified and He is risen. We have seen with our own eyes that
goodness is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate, light is stronger
than darkness, and life is stronger than death! And so, we trust that God is indeed
birthing something new into the world—which is the Kingdom God! The Kingdom of
peace and justice, of equality, liberation and reconciliation, is being born as
we speak—and we get to be part of the birthing process.
Yes, Jesus invites his disciples into
the birth process of the Kingdom as active participants. In fact—and stay with
me here—I believe Jesus is our doula, our birth assistant for this labor
of love for the world. When it seems things are falling down around us, when our
lives and the world feel chaotic, when we feel out of control and wonder what
good could come of it all, Jesus is by our side to gently remind us:
Yes, this might get ugly.
It might get messy.
It might hurt.
It has been, and will
probably continue to be, a long, long labor.
But just breathe. Breathe deeply.
Trust the wisdom of your body and your
heart—and trust the wisdom and witness of the saints who have gone before.
Lean on one another—as it is written
in our lesson from Hebrews today:
Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without
wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider
how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to
meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all
the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:23-25)
Above all, Jesus our brother, Jesus our
doula, encourages us:
Do not be led astray into fear or
despair. Change is coming. Something new is about to be born—you, my
disciples, you, my church, will be there when it happens! And I will be with
you all the way.
Therefore, let us go forth with good
courage, not knowing where we go, but only that God’s hand is leading us and
God’s love is supporting us, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
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