How to Get Help from God

Preliminary manuscript for the sermon at Green Lake Church on Sabbath, March 14, 2015. I'll revise the sermon at least once more.

Bible passage: Luke 7:1-17)

(Special guests for the day: students from Cypress Adventist School)

Monday morning, I was lying in bed, thinking about getting up. Monday is my day off. I actually had an option to sleep a little longer, but as usual the instant I wasn't actually sleeping, Rexie was her feet right beside the bed wiggling herself. (Some dogs wag their tails. Rexie's tail wags her whole body.) Sure enough, it worked. She wiggled herself, and I got out of bed, got dressed and headed outside to feed her.

Rexie loves to eat. So every morning she does her breakfast dance. And every morning it works. She wiggles herself and I get out of bed, get dressed and head outside to feed her. It is entirely predictable. If you asked Rexie, what do you have to do to get breakfast at the McLarty house, she would answer without hesitation, “Wiggle yourself.”

As I was filling my thermos in the kitchen, another breakfast expert began her routine. Mama Cat sleeps in the broom closet (with the door closed to prevent unhappy events in the night). As soon as she heard Rexie and me in the kitchen, she started meowing. And just like Rexie's dance it worked. I opened the door of the broom closet. She stepped out and circled me meowing. She jumped up on the laundry room counter and stood beside her bowl, whipping her tail. I filled her dish and she started scarfing her food while Rexie and I headed outside.

Mama Cat loves to eat. If you asked her what you have to do to get breakfast at the McLarty house, she would tell you, meow and flick your tail about and rub your head on things while staring at Farmer John. It works every morning when I'm home.

When I open the back door a living roadblock forms at the foot of the steps. From all over the yard twenty chickens race toward the steps. They make really weird noises, they cluck and squawk and squeal. They make sounds I didn't even know chickens were capable of. And they cock their heads sideways and stare at me with beady eyes. They pack so closely together I can hardly walk without stepping on them.

I carefully shuffle my feet through the mob and follow, some of the repeatedly getting right in front of me, practically getting under my feet. Finally, I break into a run to get ahead of them and out to the barn where the feed bin is.

At the barn I'm greeted by Jack the Cat. He croaks at me then waddles rapidly toward the shelf in the back of the barn where I feed the barn cats. Rexie bounces around the feed room eagerly anticipating breakfast. The mob of chickens also invades the feed room.

I get a scoop of chicken food and head outside to the place where I feed the chickens. The birds follow on my heels. If I don't walk fast enough some of them will get in front of me and trip me. I walk out back behind the barn and spread their food.

If you asked the chickens what you have to do to get breakfast at the McLarty's they would tell you that you have to mob the first person who comes out the back door in the morning. Make crazy chicken noises and follow that person everywhere he goes until he scatters food for you behind the barn. It works every morning. It's a sure thing.

Back in the feed room, I encounter Jack Cat again, croaking. Yes, I know cats are supposed to meow. I need one of you kids to come to our house and teach Jack how to do it. He sounds more like a big frog with laryngitis than a cat.

I pick Jack Cat up and lift him onto his shelf above easy reach of the dogs and feed him.

Then, FINALLY!!!!!!, I feed Rexie. And the McLarty universe is filled with happiness.

Rexie did her morning dance, and finally got her food.

Mama Cat did her morning routine of meowing and flicking her tail and rubbing her head. And it worked she got food almost immediately.

The chickens mobbed the back door and continued to mob me every step I took until I spread their food behind the barn.

Each animal has a technique and it works.

But those of you who know our household well, may have noticed some gaps in my listing of animals.

I told you about feeding Rexie, but we have two dogs, and I didn't mention Gypsy, the old mama dog.

I described feeding Mama Cat in the laundry room and Jack Cat in the barn, but what about Schmanner Cat?

And then there is George. George is Bonnie's favorite rooster. He is old and a bit decrepit. He does not run around in the yard. He lives in a special pen behind the barn. He does not crow. He does not make funny noises and he does not follow me around.

What about breakfast for Gypsy, Schmanner Cat and George? What do they have to do to get breakfast?

Kids, listen carefully. This is the point of the whole sermon.

Gypsy is old. She sleeps more than she used to. She has gone deaf so she does not hear me get up in the morning and cannot hear me if I call her. She does understand sign language, so if I wake her up and signal to her to come, she will go with me to get breakfast. Or I can bring her food inside. Last Monday, I let her sleep and I brought her breakfast inside.

If you ask Gypsy what you have to do to get breakfast at the McLarty's house, she will look at you without understanding. You don't have to do anything. You can go with John when he signals you to come or you can sleep until John brings breakfast inside. And if you're still not hungry, John will put your food up where Rexie can't get it, and you can eat breakfast at 11:30 or whenever you happen to get hungry.

Schmanner Cat gets fed in the barn. When she is in the barn, she meows very loudly—actually it's more like yowling because she is Siamese. She jumps up in the rafters, then back onto her shelf. She sticks her face out toward you then turns and checks her dish. On days she is in the barn, Schmanner Cat has her own breakfast dance. But on Monday, Schmanner Cat was not in the barn.

I could have fed Jack Cat and then gone out to sit on my stool and enjoy the sunrise in peace and quiet. No loud cat making noise and demanding to be petted. I couldn't have argued, if Schmanner Cat does not do her dance, I'm not going to give her breakfast.

But, of course, I didn't think that. Instead, I went and checked the garage. Sure enough, she had gotten shut in the night before when Karin came home from work. When I open the garage door and called, she answered. She walked across the rafters, jumped down onto the refrigerator, then onto my shoulders for a ride to the barn.

She climbed off my shoulders onto her shelf and I fed her.

If you asked Schmanner Cat what you have to do to get breakfast at the McLarty house, her answer would have been similar to Gypsy's. It's the wrong question. Breakfast for animals at the McLarty house is not something animals do. It's what the people do. You can meow like Schmanner Cat or croak like Jack Cat, you can haunt the feed room day and night like Jack or get locked in the garage like Schamanner cat does regularly. No worries either way, you'll get breakfast because that's what the people do there. You can be chunky and fat like Jack or lithe and athletic like Schmanners. Either way, you'll get breakfast.

Then, there's George. At breakfast time, he just stands at the edge of his pen, waiting. He doesn't make noise. He doesn't dance around. He doesn't go to breakfast. Breakfast comes to him. Because that's what people do in the McLarty universe.

Our New Testament Scripture this morning is Luke 7.

After traveling around Galilee, Jesus came back to the town of Capernaum. A centurion in town had a servant who had been part of his household for a long time and was very close to him. The servant was sick and about to die. When the centurion learned that Jesus was back in town he asked the elders of the local synagogue to ask Jesus to come and heal the man's servant. The elders were happy to oblige. They found Jesus and urged him to come with them and heal the servant. “This centurion deserves your help,” they said. “He is a good man. He loves our nation. He has even provided the funds to build our synagogue.”

Jesus headed out with the elders. When they were nearly to the centurion's house, the centurion sent friends with another message: Don't trouble yourself to actually come to my house. I am not worthy to have you actually come under my roof. That's why I didn't come and make my request directly to you. If you simply say the word, my servant will be healed. I know how authority works. I am an officer under orders. I have soldiers under me who follow my orders. I tell one, Go, and he goes. I tell another, Come, and he comes. I give orders to my servants and they do what I say.

When Jesus heard this he was amazed. Listen, he told the crowd, I have never seen such great faith, not even among all the people of Israel. these things, he marvelled at him, and turned him about, and said unto the people that followed him, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.

When the friends returned to the centurion's house, they found the servant sitting up in bed, completely well.

If we used this story as a guide for how to get help from Jesus, there are several salient points:

First, it helps to be an important person—like the centurion. Notice that the servant was healed because the important person, the centurion liked him.

Second, it helps to get other people to support your request. The centurion enlisted the help of the leading religious figures in town.

Third, other people are more likely to support your request if you're a good person. The elders were very happy to present the centurion's request to Jesus because he was a good man. He had been generous to them. He had provided the major gift for the synagogue fund-raising campaign. He liked the Jewish religion.

Fourth, and most important, faith matters. Jesus declared that this centurion, a non-Jew, a foreigner, a “non-church member” to use language we might use today had given the most impressive demonstration of faith he had ever seen.

If we applied this in our world today: What do you have to do to get God to help you? Be a good person. Be an important person in the work of the church. Give lots of money or lots of time. Get other people to prayer with. Use the internet to get thousands of people praying in support of your prayer. And last, make sure you have absolutely confident faith. Don't harbor the least question or doubt.

Then comes story number two.

The next day Jesus visited the town of Nain. A huge crowd of discipels went with Jesus. As they were approaching the city gate, they met a funeral procession headed out of the town toward the cemetery.

The person who died was a young man, the only son of his mother. And his mother was a widow. Jesus stopped the funeral procession and spoke to the mother. Don't weep. Jesus said. Which seemed like a weird thing to say. Who wouldn't weep in her situation. She was now completely alone in the world. And in her world a woman alone was the most desperate of all persons. She had no rights. No income. No resources. Prostitution and begging were her only likely sources of money for food.

Besides the economic precariousness of her situation, she was utterly socially isolated. Her son had been her whole world, now he was gone.

So Jesus' words appeared to be a mockery, but Jesus did not mock people. After telling mom not to cry, Jesus stepped over to the funeral litter, laid his hand on the corpse and said, “Young man, get up.”

Just like that, the young man sat up and started talking! I wonder if the people carrying him dropped him? The funeral was over. It turned into a big party. I'm sure people started dancing. Hallelujah!

So kids, let's do a compare and contrast exercise. What is the same in both of these stories. What is different? First, let's look at what is different.

In the first story there was great faith. The centurion had great faith. The elders must have had some faith.

In the second story there was no faith at all.

In the first story, lots of people joined together in asking for help.

In the second story, no one asked for help.

In the first story, the main characters were important people.

In the second story, except for Jesus, the people were nobodies. The woman was a widow. In that society, widows were invisible, without rights and with resources. The young man was a widow's son. He was a nobody who was the son of a nobody. We don't know Mom's name or the son's name.

With all these differences, what is the same? In both stories, the person who needed help was precious. The servant to the centurion, the son to his mother. In both stories the person who needed help was precious to Jesus. In both stories, help was given.

If we had only the story of the centurion we might think the only way to get help from God is to have great faith, or have important people support you in your request. We might even think we would have to be good and generous people in order to expect help from heaven.

If we had only the story of the centurion, we might think about getting help from God like Rexie thinks about getting breakfast from the McLartys. If you are Rexie, you know the key to getting breakfast is wiggling yourself. If you are Mama Cat, you know the key to getting breakfast is to meow. If you are Jack Cat, you know that the key to getting breakfast is hanging out in the feed room 24/7 and croaking like a frog with laryngitis.

But since we have the second story, the story of the Widow of Nain, we know that getting help from God is like getting breakfast at the McLartys. Just as breakfast is not limited to animals that wiggle themselves and meow and haunt the feed room, so God's help is not limited to good people, to people of faith, to people who attend church or are connected with people of faith.

It is God's nature to help. That's what God does. That's how God rolls.

Life is better when we have faith. Life is better when we are connected with good people and important people. God delights in our confident prayers. But God is not made helpless by our weaknesses. God is not shut out of our lives by our inability to hope or trust. If we cannot make it to breakfast, God brings breakfast to us.

And we will find our greatest joy and deepest satisfaction when we practice this attitude toward one another.

Kids, this week, at school look around your classroom and ask yourself which kid in my class could I make happier? Parents, ask yourselves, how could I surprise my kids with mercy? Husbands and wives—maybe even ex-husbands and ex-wives—ask how could I act more like God in my interaction with that other person?

God delights in providing healing, in interrupting funerals and turning them into parties. Let's consider how we can cooperate with God in this divine scheme.