Preparing to speak for the first time in this historic and magnificent cathedral, I was reminded of the story about a minister who had also been invited to preach at a church he had not visited before.
Having successfully navigated the steps into the pulpit, the minister wanted to reassure himself that his words would be heard – so he tapped the microphone, put his mouth close to it and asked, “Is this microphone working?”
He was slightly alarmed when a voice from the front of the congregation replied: “And also with you!”
So, you will understand why my opening prayer was one of hope; hope that my words will not only be acceptable to God, but also that they will be heard wherever you may be sitting or watching on-line.
The readings for today, taken from the 2nd Book of Kings and Luke’s Gospel, are reminders that the world can be far beyond the Utopian dream of perfection that we wish for.
The anguished widow cried to Elisha “my husband is dead; and his creditor is coming to take my two sons as his slaves.”
In those Old Testament times, the death of a husband meant more than intense grief. No husband meant no income; and with no independent means, possessions, yes even children, had to be sold to repay all outstanding debts.
The widow was faced with impending disaster; without money she would be left without her two sons and with nothing to live for. Her desperate plight led her to cry to Elisha for help. And Elisha did indeed respond.
But his miracle was not the same as, for example, Jesus feeding the hungry from 5 loaves and a couple of fish or changing water into wine at a wedding banquet.
Elisha’s response is far more subtle. Not for him is the answer to the widow’s plight some divine and instant donation that would solve all her problems.
Instead, in his wisdom, Elisha puts the onus on her community to help. Her neighbours were to be asked to provide empty jars; not just a couple they had to spare, but to give all they had.
Furthermore, they were to arrange not only the collection of these containers, but also their delivery to the widow’s house.
He tells the widow that she and her sons must fill them; they must work hard to overcome their plight. They should not rely solely on others to get them through these difficult times.
Elisha, through the power of God, does his bit by providing sufficient oil for them to fill the jars which can then be sold, and the proceeds used to repay the outstanding debts.
The widow’s plight was resolved, not through a generous handout, but under Elisha’s wise leadership, by a combination of community engagement, her own efforts, the contributions of her sons, and a sense of collective purpose.
In our New Testament reading, Luke tells of the powerful Roman Centurion whose servant lay seriously ill, and close to death.
Typically, when a servant became incapable of serving his master, he would be discarded, and possibly even killed, for being unable to fulfil his duties.
But this was no typical centurion – he loved his dying servant.
What was the centurion to do? Desperate to save the life of his servant he turned to a man he had not even met; a Jew, a race despised by the Romans; and that loathing was mutual.
Yet despite the contempt between them, this man’s reputation for healing the sick had reached the Centurion.
So much so that he put aside his preconceptions, his principles, abandoned his military authority, and surrendered his power.
He placed his trust in Jesus: “I am not worthy to come to you” he said to Him, “but only say the word and my servant will be healed.”
A prayer of humble access; a prayer that will be familiar to those who confirm their faith at the Eucharist even today.
The centurion put faith and humility above his own power and authority. The centurion prayed, not for himself, but for the servant he loved. The centurion’s prayer was answered.
Whatever our own status, indeed within or outside a religious context, Luke shows us that, like the centurion, we can best serve the needs of others when we have the courage and conviction to leave our prejudices behind.
When we acknowledge we might not have all the answers, when we put our faith and trust in someone greater than ourselves.
Neither reading, however, give us a clue as to how these stories end.
Did the widow sell the oil to save her sons? Or did she keep the money, forsake her sons, find another husband and run off to some Mediterranean island to live in luxury?
Did the centurion revert to his old ways? Had he called upon Jesus as an expedient to save his beloved servant from death?
Or, having seen what Jesus could do, did his faith grow, becoming strong, firm and everlasting?
We don’t know what happened to the widow or the centurion. Those answers will be known only to God who knows the secrets of all our hearts.
But I do however offer this thought. Remember the scene at the foot of the cross, and those dying words of Jesus? “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.”
It was then that a Roman Centurion ran away in tears.
I have often wondered not only who that centurion was – but why it was that he proclaimed with such conviction “Truly, this was the Son of God.”
Both readings remind us that working together in faith, humility and love, can transform lives, and the communities in which we live and serve.
Madam Mayor. May the wisdom of Elisha, the courage of the centurion, and the love of God be with you. Amen.
