There is a wonderful note of praise to God in Ephesians 3:20, which goes like this, “Not to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine…”  Thanks be to God!

A story is told of a young man who snuck into a church one morning, hoping nobody would notice him.  He was interested in a young woman who sang in the choir.  The young man hoped that after the service, he would have a chance to talk to her and ask her out on a date.  Though he was unfamiliar with church, he saw people sitting and he took his own place next to an aisle.  Shortly before the service was about to start, he was approached by someone who told him that the person scheduled to read the scripture that morning couldn’t make it.  Could the young man fill in?  Thinking that this would be a good chance to get him noticed by the young woman in the choir and feeling that he had a pretty good speaking voice, the young man agreed.  He quickly reviewed the passage before the service started.

When the appropriate time came, the young man took his place at the front and began to read from John’s Gospel.  “Anyone who doesn’t enter the sheepfold by the gate,” he heard his own voice say, “but climbs in by another way, is a thief and a bandit.”  He was amazed.  This was what he’d done!  He was standing here, pretending to be a regular Bible-reader, when in fact he’d only come in to meet a girl.  He forced himself to go on, aware of his heart beating loudly.  If he was a bandit, coming in under false pretences, what was the alternative?  “I am the gate for the sheep,” said Jesus.  “The bandit only comes to steal, kill and destroy.  I came that they might have life, and have it full to overflowing.”  Suddenly, something happened inside the young man.  He stopped thinking about himself.  He stopped thinking about the girl, about the congregation, about the fact that he’d just done a ridiculous and hypocritical thing.  He thought about Jesus.  Unaware of the shock he was causing, he swung round to the clergyman leading the service.  “Is it true?” he asked.  “Did he really come so that we could have a real, full life like that?”  The clergyman smiled.  “Of course,” he replied, “That’s why we’re all here.  Come and join in the next song and see what happens if you really mean it.”  And the young man found himself swept off his feet by the presence and love of Jesus, filling him, changing him, calling him to follow like a grateful sheep, after the shepherd who can be trusted to lead the way to good pasture by day and safe rest at night.  He got much more than he bargained for.”

In our story today, we have a man who received much, much more than what he bargained for.  We have a man who receives life.  Wholeness brought about by the one whom Peter will call the Author of life.  The path-maker of life.  Jesus.

We are looking at a story of what the good news does.  Last week, we looked at the activities of this community of faith, how they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.  This community was not just existing for themselves or their own existence.  It wasn’t all about them.  There is a hymn called “Sweet Hour of Prayer” which contains the line “Which draws me from the world of care.”  We don’t stay withdrawn.  Our pattern of life together, beloved church, is like that of a heart.  Diastolic and systolic.  We’re drawn together in a big way weekly (and in smaller ways through the week) and then sent from here.  Just as blood goes to the heart, then to the lungs to be oxygenated, and then back to the heart and sent to different parts of the body.  We come together to be oxygenated and are then sent. 

“One day, Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer at three o’clock in the afternoon.”  They were out there.  For the earliest followers of Christ, it was a matter of continuing in the religious tradition they had known. This included daily prayers at the temple.  On their way to praise, they are not called to ignore what is going on around them.  They are called to see with the eyes of Jesus.  We remember the time Matthew tells us, “When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matt 9:36)  Someone has said, “The path toward significant prayer is a way that goes straight through, not around, human misery.”

Not only does it go through, but it stops.  We're talking a lot about stopping. I know there are things we have to do.  Stopping  Waiting on God.  We’re called to stop as we go through our days, too.  We’re not called to look at people as interruptions.  I’ve said this before about the phrase “Sorry to bother you.”  I told someone that once, and they replied, “You’re never a bother to me.”  How gracious.  Some of Jesus’ most important work was done in the interruptions.  Healing happened with Jesus in the interruptions. 

A man lame from birth was being carried in.  A man who was in a situation from which he could not extricate himself.  A man who was in a situation which left him outside the worshipping community.  In those days, physical ailments were often seen as a sign of bad character.  Healthy, well-formed people were thought to be of higher moral value and just generally better.  I’m so glad we’re beyond that kind of thing now.  This man was of little value to anyone.  He would be placed daily at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate.  Something beautiful is about to happen.  The gates of the temple were highly ornate, overlaid with gold, silver, and bronze.  Silver and gold – the way to a beautiful life.  Silver and gold – the signs of economic relationships that reduce connections to transactions and clearly separate the haves from the have-nots.  We are about to find out that things are different in the kingdom of God.

The gate is called the Beautiful Gate.  This man has been carried there, and he is lying there.  This is his spot, and if panhandling in 1st-century Jerusalem is anything like panhandling in 21st-century Toronto, I’m sure a lot of people were hurrying by avoiding eye contact.  People were no doubt giving him money and avoiding eye contact.  Perhaps some would stop, ask how he is, try to get the chance to know him, and share some bread.  I’ve often thought that one of the worst things about panhandling must be how one is ignored.  How one can sit at the corner of a major intersection and not be recognized as a person by thousands who would walk by in the space of an hour or two. 

The man calls out to Peter and John.  They stop.  Peter looked intently at him, as did John.  The same word for intense looking we heard when Jesus preached in the Nazareth synagogue in Luke 4.  The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.  Their eyes are fixed on the man.  Surely this is the first step in recognizing our common humanity.  Surely this is the first step in recognizing need, in communicating need.  “Look at us,” says Peter.

Look at us.  Stop.  Look.  The man is expecting to receive something from them.  This man, who is in need of help, is about to get much more than he bargained for.

Peter says he doesn’t have any silver or gold.  Practically speaking, Peter didn’t have any cash on him.  The community had pooled their resources, remember, so this makes sense.  Are we to take this story to prove the Bible says we should never give money to people on the street?  I think not.  May the Holy Spirit guide us and give us wisdom and generous hearts.  How we view money matters, and what we do with the money God gifts us matters.  That is a matter for another day.  Here is the thing, though.  Our relationship with God, our relationships with one another, are not primarily economic or transactional.

When we speak of life in the Spirit/living in the grace of God/living in the reign of God/the good and beautiful life – this life that shapes our worship together and shapes our hearts and shapes our lives when we go from this place, with God’s help… when we speak of life lived in communion with our loving creating redeeming sustaining faithful God – we are not simply talking about short term financial relief (though that is included at times). 

This salvation story that we are caught up in, this deliverance story, God’s grand redemption plan – whatever it is you like to call it or however you like to think about it or whatever imagery we use to try and get our heads around it – it’s about restoration.  It’s about wholeness.  It’s about life.  It’s much more than simply economic relief.  But what I have, I give you, Peter tells the man.  In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.

Peter took him by the right hand.  Might have been the same hand that the man was holding out to receive funds.  It makes a great picture.  Peter reaching down for that hand and raising the man up who was in a situation from which he was unable to extricate himself.  The man was raised up, and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.  Jumping up, he stood and began to walk with them (because we’re not meant to do this walk alone), walking and leaping and praising God.

The servant Jesus.  The Holy and Righteous One.  The Author of life.  This is how Peter goes on to describe Jesus.  This is what Jesus does.  He brings life.  He brings wholeness.  He brings restoration.  One day, he will restore all things.  This formerly lame man is clinging onto Peter and John as Peter begins to preach again.  This man is a living object lesson of the wholeness that is found through faith.  Peter says, “Why do you stare at us (because it’s not about us, remember!), as by our own power or piety we made him walk?  The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors, has glorified his servant Jesus…”  By faith in his name, his name itself has made this man strong…

His name itself has made this man strong.  His name itself has made this woman strong, no matter our physical condition.  This story is not about “You’re not healed because you lack faith” or a call to ableism.  People who are ailing, people who are disabled, can manifest the life and wholeness that God brings about. 

We’re called to enter into the suffering of others.  To look at it.  To bring the person of Jesus into it through his name.  We haven’t done a lot about prayers for healing in our tradition or in our church, and maybe we should do more.  We often think of faith healers we see on TV as charlatans, and we shouldn’t leave it to charlatans.  Do we believe the age of miracles is over? Some do, I suppose.  I don’t.  Jesus’ brother wrote about praying for the sick, having elders of the church pray over them, anointing them with oil – that symbol of the Holy Spirit.  This is what the good news does.  It brings life, wholeness, healing.  We’re not always cured by any means.  Writer Rachel Held Evans wrote about the difference between curing and healing – “… there is a difference between curing and healing, and I believe the church is called to the slow and difficult work of healing.  We are called to enter into one another’s pain, anoint it as holy, and stick around no matter the outcome.” 

The Author of life promises wholeness and restoration. What do we need to ask God about today?  Where is wholeness and restoration needed in us and in those we love?  Let us give thanks together for the promise that God is able to do more than we could ever ask or imagine, and rest in that promise together this Thanksgiving, and always.

Amen