A New Normal
Epiphany 5 – NL 3
February 9, 2025
Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN
Luke 7.1-17
We have two amazing and wonderful healing stories in our Gospel reading for today. They are somewhat opposites in form but both concern matters of life and death. The powerful, Gentile Roman soldier is as helpless as the powerless and now destitute Jewish widow. In the first episode, Jesus fore-stalls the certain death of the Centurion's slave. In the second, Jesus reverses the death of the widow’s son. In the first, it is Jesus who is amazed, marveling at the faith of the Centurion. In the second, the crowds perceive that Jesus is a great prophet, one who proves that God’s favor has been visited upon them. In both stories, Jesus is shown as one who has authority, even over the forces of death.
But Luke’s Gospel does us no favors if we assume that all is back to normal for them. How could it be? We who have looked woundedness, illness, even death in the face know better. True, the slave returns to serve the Centurion, and the son provides for his mother. But let’s allow ourselves the luxury of imagining what life was now like on the other side of death for them. No doubt the slave, Centurion, son, and widowed mother appreciated life even more. Yet, I wonder if they were able to embrace their death or near-death experiences in their new lives.
Kristin Hannah’s The Women is a novel set during and after the Vietnam War. It focuses on the women who served as surgical nurses in the Army Nursing Corps. The story is told through the eyes and experiences of Frances Grace, “Frankie,” a woman of privilege who decides to honor her brother, a Navy pilot who died in Vietnam, by volunteering to serve there.
It was a bloody, traumatic experience for Frankie and when she returned, she not only suffered the same indignity as all Vietnam combat vets, but the added insult “there were no women in VVietnam.” Counseling services were denied to her and even her parents refused to acknowledge her sacrifice, telling their friends that she was studying abroad. Having come of age during Vietnam, and having narrowly missed being drafted myself, it was a gut-wrenching and heart-rending read.
When I was serving as an associate pastor at Central Lutheran Church in Winona during the historic floods of 2007, I was able to be part of the long-term recovery effort. To help people process the trauma they experienced, we brought in Lutheran Social Services, who helped us with counseling services. especially for our young people who were able to attend “Camp Noah.” (Sidebar: LSS is not a terrorist organization nor does it launder money. They provide much needed social services that our government can’t. Whenever a disaster occurs, Lutherans are the first to arrive and the last to leave.)
LSS helped us to understand that traumatic experiences like disasters, illnesses, and death cause a period of disorientation. Envision going along an even road and then being plunged into a chasm of chaos. Theologically, it can be called “the shadow of the valley of death.” The road “back up” out of the chasm is full of ups and downs and it takes time, a long time in most cases. But as importantly, there is now a reorientation, a “new normal.” In other words, there is no going back to the way life was before the disorienting trauma.
Without spoiling the book, Frankie learns to embrace her woundedness and find a way forward. There is no way that she can go back to life the way it was before Vietnam, but the way forward is not easy. Nor do we suppose that the servant, Centurion, son, or widow could go back. You, the faithful people of Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, have gone through a traumatic period of disorientation. You are on the brink of reorientation, a new normal, with the calling of your next lead pastor. I encourage you to embrace your woundedness and discern how God will use you in the time ahead. And I implore you, I beg you, not to expect your next pastor to take you back to some idealized vision of the past. It’s not possible to go back and it’s potentially destructive to try. Frankly, it’s not fair to your new lead pastor, either.
You see, we worship a God who is both crucified and risen, who through his death brought new life. When Christ was crucified on the cross and raised to life, he still bore the marks of crucifixion, the nail marks in his hands and sides. In other words, the risen Christ embraced his woundedness and invited those who follow him to do the same. We who have been baptized also bear the mark of the Crucified One on our foreheads. It has been a privilege and honor to walk with you through the disorienting time to now. I will hold you in my heart and prayers as you discern what the crucified and risen life looks like in the time ahead. Amen.
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