Back in January I came down with a nasty head cold. I knew I was going to get sick weeks in advance. As a volunteer at the city's New Year's Eve celebration I'd be staying up too late and getting tired in the company of about 900 people. There isn't any more sure fire way to get sick, and sure enough, I got sick. It was all my fault! So, along with the sore throat and stuffy nose, I got to feel guilty, too.

These days there's a lot of emphasis on personal responsibility for keeping ourselves healthy. Eat right, get plenty of exercise, don't overdo it - you know the drill. There is a shadow side to that kind of thinking. We might be tempted to blame those who get sick for their condition just as I blamed myself for that head cold.

The Gospels are filled with stories of Jesus healing the sick. These days it's hard to read them without feeling a little cheated. In a year and a half we've been through terror attacks, anthrax, snipers, and the Columbia tragedy. Our prayer list keeps growing, and we're on the verge of war. God or Jesus only needs will it, and a person is healed. Does that mean God wills the suffering that isn't healed? Might we be tempted to blame God for the misery and cruelty in our world?

The first thing to notice about all of Jesus' healing miracles is something that's not there. Blame is not there. Judgment is not there. Guilt is not there. While he often praises the faith of sick people, Jesus never blames them for somehow causing their own sickness. Jesus also flat out rejects the idea that God is behind our afflictions, that they are some sort of punishment. We wouldn't give someone a vile disease just to see how they react. What makes us think we're more ethical than God?

Sickness, pain, and grief are facts of life. We're not given an explanation. We're given Jesus who brings good news and heals the afflicted. It seems that to do one is to do both.

The healing of Simon's mother-in-law is striking in its simplicity. Jesus uses no special words, rituals, or potions. She's sick but not terribly sick. The fever was probably something like the flu. Not life- threatening, it would have gone away by itself in a few days. Jesus goes to the woman, takes her hand and lifts her up. The fever leaves her, and she goes on to serve dinner to the entire household. What are we to make of this rather modest healing miracle?

In that culture at that time the senior woman in the household would preside at social gatherings. It was a position of honor. Simon's mother-in-law was missing out on a dinner party. No doubt there would be others. What's the big deal? Why did Jesus bother with a healing miracle in this case?

It is precisely because the stakes are so low that this story is important. The central point of almost all Jesus' healings is not the physical change. The most important thing is that a person who is afflicted, and therefore isolated and shut off from family and society, is restored to community. The person who was in a kind of exile is made to belong again. In the case of leprosy the exile was life-long and total. A case of the flu knocks us out for a few days. Belonging is so important to God's order that Jesus won't let an ordinary fever keep an elderly woman from a dinner party.

I've always looked at events like the Progressive Dinner or a group going to the theater or a baseball game as fun times in the life of the church. They serve the useful purpose of strengthening bonds among us for worship and service. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe events like the Progressive Dinner have value in themselves. The healing of Simon's mother-in-law suggests a dinner party might be . . . a sacrament. With all the laughter and silliness and storytelling - not to mention calorie consumption - we experience something of the belonging God wills for all God's children. Where is it written a sacrament must be somber? Jesus thought a dinner party important enough that he healed a woman so she could attend. On the bottom of the invitation in your bulletin it says, "The party won't be complete without you." That's not just a nice sentiment. It's the Gospel truth.

There's a second element in the healing of Simon's mother-in-law. In the past I've tended to soft pedal it. I'm changing my mind about that, too. Jesus healed a woman. She got up from her sick bed and served them. She's healed so all those men can have their dinner on time. Yes, I know it sounds sexist as all getout, and yes, it was an honor to preside at such a gathering. But what if that's beside the point? What if we, men and women alike, are healed so that we may serve the Lord? What if all of us, like Simon's mother-in-law, are lifted up - to serve?

Recently I was reminiscing with a few of you about a course I took in high school. It was a requirement for graduation. I put it off as long as I could, terrified I'd make a complete fool of myself. With time running out, I finally enrolled. Sure enough, I made a complete fool of myself. But at least it was over, and I'd never, ever go through that again. Can you guess what the course was? Public speaking.

I did not overcome my insecurity and self-consciousness. I still get butterflies in my stomach on Sunday morning. But in some mysterious way the Lord healed me enough that I'm not a complete basket case. I can serve in this way.

I also know I'm not alone. There's not a person here today who hasn't been lifted up to serve. Maybe you were lifted up out of apathy. Maybe it was despair, doubt, or grief. Some of us were healed our of dependence on things so as to give over $1000 to the Souper Bowl offering. Some of us had our sight restored so that we could see the needs of others. Whether you serve God in the choir or while passing the peace to a neighbor in a pew or fixing up a house through Christmas In April, some sort of healing happened along the way that made it possible. We've been lifted up to serve.

These days we certainly can't deny the reality of suffering and evil in our world. Our faith does not provide an explanation. It provides a person. Jesus did not escape suffering and death. Somehow he came out the winner and promises the same to us. In these anxious days we need to remember that.

Jesus healed people and so restored them to their rightful places in the human family. Jesus healed and so broke down barriers that isolate us from one another. He wouldn't let a fever deny a woman the pleasure of a dinner party. Apparently there's no barrier so small that Christ will let it stand. Dinner parties are sacraments when you and I taste more than food. Dinner parties are sacraments when you and I taste the belonging God wills for all of us.

You and I are lifted up for a purpose. Healing is not mainly about our personal comfort though it may be a by-product. We are lifted up to serve. We serve raking leaves on the church grounds. We serve people in need. Sometimes we serve each other cheesecake. We serve in prayer. In each case we are brought out of isolation into the company of other people and our God.

The Greek word translated as "Savior" also means "Healer." Somehow "to be served" has picked up a load of judgment and guilt. What if we thought of ourselves as healed people? What if Christ wants nothing more than to restore us to our rightful place of belonging and rightful purpose to serve? Christ offers to take you and me by the hand and lift us up. Christ invites you and me to be healed - and to become healers, too.