Bless Your Heart: Heavy Hearts

2 Corinthians 1:1-11

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the church of God that is in Corinth, including all the saints throughout Achaia: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ. If we are being afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation; if we are being consoled, it is for your consolation, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we are also suffering. Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our consolation.

We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, of the affliction we experienced in Asia; for we were so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death so that we would rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to rescue us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again, as you also join in helping us by your prayers, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted to us through the prayers of many.

This is a prayer shawl that sits in my office waiting for me to take it to someone. It was knit with love by someone from church. As she joined the stitches together, she infused them with prayer, not knowing who would receive it but that it would cover, shelter and enfold someone whose heart is heavy. The shawl is meant to bring comfort, hope and healing. It’s a reminder of God’s ever present love. 

That kind of care happens in other ways, too. When Dave’s dad died 12 years ago, sympathy cards began to arrive in the mail. I was touched by how many people remembered us and the notes they wrote. One card in particular surprised me. It was from a friend I hadn’t talked to in a while, someone who didn’t know the story of Ray’s passing. She wrote so poignantly about the loss we were experiencing; it was as if she had experienced that same loss herself. 

Our experience wasn’t unique. It happens all the time. Heavy hearts beckon to the hearts and hands of others who reach out and care. Like an impulse, we feel compelled to respond with tender mercy and consolation. 

We’re beginning a new sermon series today in which we’ll be reading parts of Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. Some of the words we heard a moment ago are often read at funerals. In fact, the funeral liturgy begins with these:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
source of all mercy and the God of all consolation, 
who comforts us in all our sorrows 
so that we can comfort others in their sorrows 
with the consolation we ourselves have received from God. 

In those tender moments when we are raw and most vulnerable, these words of gospel declare that mercy comes from God.  Consolation defines God, it comes from God, it comes to us and flows through us, it gets extended to another, and it comes back to us. It’s like a big hug, and God is the source of all consolation. 

Sometimes we’re pretty good at passing it along. Sometimes we forget. And sometimes our hearts are hard. Sometimes we’re turned in on ourselves. 

We would rather not be in the position of needing consolation, truth be told. We like it when we are the masters of our lives. We humans are smart and strong and creative. We have agency. And in our culture, we live with the myth that says good things happen to good people.  

Kate Bowler wrote a book about that idea. She researched the “prosperity gospel” movement and then titled her book, “Everything Happens for a Reason.”*  The prosperity gospel believes that God wants to reward you if you have the right kind of faith so health and happiness follow if you are faithful. Hardships are just a detour along the way. Hard work and moral fiber will win out in the end. Good things happen to good people, after all. Underneath it all is the belief that we’re special. 

What she came to discover in her own life is that there are some things we can’t control or manage our way out of, and it has nothing to do with our own ability or who we are. When Kate was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer, she then realized that she had her own quiet version of the prosperity gospel, and cancer shouldn’t happen to her.

She is in remission now, but here’s how she describes what it was like to be living with the belief that she was dying: “It was one of the most surreal things I have experienced. In a time in which I should have felt abandoned by God…. I felt like I was…floating on the love and prayers of all those who hummed around me like worker bees, bringing me notes and socks and flowers and quilts embroidered with words of encouragement. But when they sat beside me, my hand in their hands, my own suffering began to feel like it had revealed to me the suffering of others. I was entering a world of people just like me, people stumbling around in the debris of dreams they thought they were entitled to and plans they didn’t realize they had made. It was a feeling of being more connected, somehow, with other people, experiencing the same situation.” 

She was enfolded into a community of care that looked like the kind of consolation that comes from God — the consolation that begins with God and comes to us and flows through us and comes back to us. It’s like a big hug. But it’s more. The experience of receiving this encouragement changed her. It opened a door to the suffering of others, and she experienced mutuality. 

We need hugs. They bring comfort and encouragement. But I wonder if our notion of comfort is too small. Those of us who are comfortable most of our lives — or who can return to a state of comfort fairly easily — might overlook something. In Jesus, God meets us in our suffering and brings new life. God makes a way when there’s no way. It’s not just a hug, but a transformation. 

In our reading today, Paul speaks of an unbearable suffering he experienced and realized he couldn’t manage his way out of it, and that’s when he finally relied on God. He needed the God who raises from the dead. This God who rescued us would continue to rescue us and would rescue us again, he said. The God who says death will not have the last word has saved us and will keep on saving us and will save us again. 

There are so many losses in view right now: A mass shooting in San Jose this week; three young children ages 6, 9 and 10 shot by stray bullets in Minneapolis in recent weeks; disease and illness. It can be overwhelming. But as Paul tells us, God is found where there’s suffering, and God meets the suffering with overflowing comfort. 

The past few months, I’ve been praying for a baby named Barrett. Before he was born, the doctors knew that Barrett’s life would be at risk because of a heart defect spotted in utero. Plans were made to help him survive and thrive by using the gifts of modern medicine. He spent his first couple weeks in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit, and then he went home to the loving care of his family. They did ordinary things like feed him and change him and tell him they loved him. There were some scary nights and a couple of trips back to the hospital. This week, he stayed. His little heart was not able to do what it needed to do to keep him alive. On Friday, he died in the arms of his parents. 

When his mama shared the sad news that Barrett was now held in the loving arms of God, texts and messages began to pour in. 

• I’m so sorry…
• You’ve been in my prayers…
• My heart aches for you…
• I’m so sorry…
• I love your sweet family…
• I’m praying for you…
• I’m so sorry for your loss…
• I’m so, so sorry…

Like a cup overflowing, the consolation of family, friends, acquaintances, and friends of friends began to arrive, washing over them, surrounding them, bathing them in love — revealing to them God’s very presence and saving love. 

We don’t do this alone, but God has given us to one another to be vessels of mercy. The Spirit knits us together — like a prayer shawl to cover, comfort, enfold, shelter and bring beauty. It’s messy work. We won’t always get it right, but we are connected, and there’s mutuality and abundance. We’ll find God there — the God who meets us in Jesus’ suffering at the cross, the God whose love transcends death and promises that death will not have the last word.  

So with Paul, we say thanks in the form of a blessing: Blessed be God, (the) source of all mercy and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows so that we can comfort others in their sorrows with the consolation we ourselves have received from God. 

Amen.

*https://www.ted.com/talks/kate_bowler_everything_happens_for_a_reason_and_other_lies_i_ve_loved