Soul care: letting go

Just as it’s important to care for our physical bodies, it’s also, just as important to care for our soul. Even Jesus got away from time to time and practiced soul care. And if Jesus did it, then maybe it’s something to take a closer look at.

The Gospel of Luke begins with Jesus’ birth, then Jesus being presented at the temple, then Jesus being baptized by John the Baptist and then Jesus going to the wilderness for 40-days of overcoming temptation – then Jesus begins his ministry in Galilee where much of his ministry takes place.

Now, he’s back home for his first public appearance … he’s in the synagogue and all eyes were on him. Imagine the pressure he was under – going back to his home town. You know what it’s like for some of us – going back home where you were raised, where, in my case, they call me Danny, where people remember when you weren’t picked first for dodge ball in gym class – when you got in a fight on the playground – or you were either the shy one in class or the teacher’s pet.

Jesus is viewed as a different person everywhere else. He’s popular, in demand; but in his hometown he’s still that little kid that people remember; in fact some remarked, “Hey, aren’t you Joseph’s son?”

On this first Sunday back in his hometown, Jesus wanted to say something significant, but I think more than that he wanted to articulate his mission. He’s handed the scroll, he unrolls it and finds the place. He knew it was there; he searched for it – he knew he had something specific he wanted to say.

His first message to them was about healing. And so he turns to one of the most powerful passages of scripture. It talks about healing, which, as a pastor, is at the heart of what my ministry is about, and what I believe our mission and ministry at The Met is about.

Let’s look at the context of what Luke records Jesus reading. It’s from the prophet Isaiah, chapter 61. It was written hundreds of years before Jesus – but it’s still as current and relevant to us today as this morning’s New York Times headlines.

It talks about me and it talks about you.

Some of the words that jump out are oppression, captivity, mourning, ruin and devastation (not pretty words).

I believe Jesus sees the heart of his ministry is moving us beyond oppression and captivity and mourning. I want to talk a little more about that.

What are some of the things that cause us to be oppressed?

What are some of the things that pull me into that “broken-hearted” camp?

We’ve all been wounded. We’ve all had hurtful things happen to us. We can all identify with some of these words from Isaiah.

Every week, I hear stories of your wounds and abuses – and part of my joy as your pastor is spending some time in private conversations, listening to our stories as a community.

In fact, I first came to MCC because I made an appointment with the pastor because of the hurts and wounds I had gone through and was still going through. I wanted to come to a place where I could receive hope. I sensed I needed soul care. I sensed I needed healing. My world was unraveling. And I was scared. I didn’t know I needed soul care then; I didn’t know I needed healing; but I knew I was going to fall, so I came searching for a place that I hoped would be there for me as a spiritual net in a safe community of faith. I’m forever grateful for the healing ministry of MCC to me.

There are three things that I see in this passage, this very first sermon that we have on record of Jesus’ preaching.

The first thing, as a community of faith we are a community of people who need healing.

We all experience pain and struggles. We all carry with us hurts from the past. We all need healing. We all go through stuff. Especially as a faith community like ours which is predominantly LGBT. We are especially blessed in the stuff we’ve inherited. (I could write about this for another hour!)

I was so overwhelmed by the reaction of our community with the words of President Obama during his inauguration speech. To have him use the word Stonewall in the same sentence as Seneca Falls and Selma was amazing! And then to have him affirm same-sex marriage! Amazing. This was the first time in the history of the United States that a president has used the word “gay” in an inauguration speech. Sitting on my couch, I just started clapping! I felt affirmed. It was healing to my soul.

This was so powerful to so many people because it says how hurt we’ve been and how much we need to be healed from the stigma that has held us captive. And just the words our president spoke, gave us hope!

Another thing I see as I’ve meditated on this narrative this past week, not only do we all go through hurts, but we also tend to hold on to our hurts. And some of us let anger become our soul food. Some of us turn our abuse into substance abuse. We try to numb the pain and numb our hurts instead of dealing with them.

And then a strange thing happens. We get so comfortable with our hurts that we begin to embrace them; they become part of our identity. And then we go through life attracting that same negative energy, and before we know it, we’ve created a powerful rut in life. But oh, it’s so comfortable!

The good news is that we don’t have to stay in that rut of oppression and captivity to our past. In the narrative in Luke 4, Jesus says he was anointed to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken hearted, to bring liberty to the captives, to bring release to the prisoners, to bring comfort to those who mourn, to give the oil of gladness instead of mourning, to give us a mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.

How can this happen in our lives? How can we break from our hurts and wounds?

This brings me to the final point in our narrative. We need to learn to let go!

That may mean moving out of our comfort zone. No, not may mean, will mean! We can become so comfortable with our pain. It almost begins to feel like home.

That reminds me of a song by BJ Thomas; “Hey, wontcha play another somebody done somebody wrong song; and make me feel at home …”

Make me feel at home with my pain and my hurt. Oh, so comfortable! Like a pair of old tennis shoes that we just can’t throw away.

Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not minimizing the pain and hurts of the past. They’re real. I’ve been there, and I know a lot of us have been there. And we also still struggle with this, and we are in the process of healing. It’s a journey of moving from brokenness to wholeness.

And let me say something here. This is what we’re about as a community of faith. (Someone said to me last week, “I think this sermon was more for you than for us.”) It’s true! I’m preaching to myself too. I feel pains from the past, and I’m on the journey with you, from brokenness to wholeness. We’re on this journey together, from captivity to freedom, from mourning to joy, from being broken and bruised, from being a faint person hardly able to stand, to being a person filled with hope and joy, to being a person who is positive and filled with praise.

This process begins though by letting go. And there comes a time when we have to let it go, to just let go. Let go and let God!

It’s scary! For some of us, it’s all we’ve known. Even from early childhood. Some of us learned to live in shame and to live in hiding; and letting go of that is not an easy thing to do.

But letting go is so important – it allows healing. It’s only as we let go can the healing come. As we let go, it will come. Maybe not right away; it might take longer than we expect, but it will come.

I have a vivid memory of when I had to let go. Oh, was it scary! It was the first time I went rappelling. It was a beautiful day and I was with an experienced Marine. The sun was shining, and from our vantage point on the Laguna Mountains, you could look out and see the Salton Sea out in the desert. Such a clear day. Perfect! I get all the gear on, I’m excited; it was a new thing I was going to try; I was ready!

Until, it was my turn to go. I’m situated at the edge of the cliff and the Marine says, “Now, lean back.” And I thought what are you talking about? No way!

“Let go!”

All I could do was hold on. I was frozen. Mr. Marine said, “Dan, you have to let go of the rope to let yourself down. You have to let go to get back on solid ground.”

I had a mental fight – an internal battle. All I could reason was when you let go you fall. When you let go you get hurt.

Slowly I realized, that the only way I was going to make it was to let go! And I did – just a couple inches at first. But then more. Then it became fun. But, I had to let go first!

PS Plan to join us for Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday services!

Rev. Dan Koeshall is the senior pastor at The Metropolitan Community Church (The Met), 2633 Denver Street, San Diego, California, themetchurch.org. Services every Sunday at 9 and 11 a.m.

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