a sermon by Harley Allen
Good morning. I am Harley Allen and it is good to be here
with you and have the opportunity to speak with you this morning. Last week we
heard from Bill Lambert the CEO of a major company. This week a retired kindergarten teacher
stands before you. Bill’s story quite
was compelling and as I sat there in the pew, I began to wonder, why, oh why
did I ever agree to do this. I can’t
possibly provide as powerful a message as Bill did. But on the drive home from
church God revealed to me that is
the beauty of this concept of preachers from the pew. We all have stories to share about our faith
journey and by sharing mine, my hope and prayer is the story will glorify God
and serve to help one person draw closer to Him. Before I begin let’s come
before God in prayer.
Dear
Heavenly Father, we come to you humbly seeking to make a place in our hearts
for you. Keep us ever mindful of your
presence. Dear God I ask that you would
use my words to your glory and pray they would help to further your kingdom
here on earth. In your Son’s holy name
we pray, Amen.
As I prayerfully
considered what I wanted to share with you this morning, it became obvious to
me it was how my battles with illness have shaped my faith journey. As many of you already know and as some of
you are about to learn, I stand before you this morning engaged in my sixth
battle with cancer. It is easy for me to
tell you that because with Gods’ help and by the power of the Holy Spirit and
so many of His faithful servants extending the hand of Christ to me, I am at
peace. Taking a page from Graham’s playbook, let’s start with a story. Before I came Calvin, I had a twenty-three
year history as a member of a Presbyterian Church in the North Hills. During
those twenty-three years I was blessed to serve in a variety of
capacities. At the time when this story
takes place, I was the Clerk of Session and the church had just called a new
pastor. In an effort to get to know the
members of session better, that new pastor started his first session meeting by
asking each session member to state his/her favorite scripture and give an
explanation as to why it was meaningful to them. Elders are called to be the
spiritual leaders of the church and although I belonged to the Men’s Bible
study, a Couples Bible Study and read my Bible I have never been one to
memorize Scripture. I know it is one of
the disciplines and I should be working to improve, but I just don’t. As we went around the table, it became quite
apparent my fellow Session members did practice the discipline of memorizing
Scripture. They were capable of naming
the book, chapter and verses of their favorites. I grew more and more apprehensive as my turn approached.
Fear seized every fiber of my being. It was soon going to be my turn and I
would be exposed for the slacker I am.
After all, I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the other
Session members, the associate pastor and our new head pastor. Finally it was my turn and I had to
sheepishly admit I didn’t know exactly where in the Bible it was located but I
loved the story of Jesus walking on the water and Paul stepping out of the boat and walking to him. Now did you catch that? It wasn’t Paul it was Peter but my old
nemesis, fear had gotten the better of me once again! Oh, he and I had battled
many times throughout my life. The new
pastor was very gracious and reminded me it was Peter and said he liked that
story as well. He offered to loan me his
copy of John Ortberg’s book, “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the
Boat”. I took him up on the offer.
I read it, liked it. That
scripture story has always resonated with me so I chose it as the Scripture for
this morning’s message and of course I now know is located in:
Matthew: Chapter 14: 22-36. (The
Message)
In the book of Matthew, the feeding of
the Five Thousand immediate precedes the story of:
Jesus Walking on the Water
As soon as the meal was
finished, he insisted that the disciples get in the boat and go on ahead to the
other side while he dismissed the people. With the crowd dispersed, he climbed
the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night.
Meanwhile, the boat was far out
to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the
waves. At about three o’clock in the
morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. “A ghost!” they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort
them. “Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
Peter, suddenly bold, said,
“Master, if it is really you, call me to come to you on the water.”
He said, “Come ahead.”
Jumping out of the boat, Peter
walked on the water to Jesus. But when
he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and
started to sink. He cried, “Master, save
me!”
Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. Then he said, “Faint-heart, what got into
you?”
The two of the climbed into the
boat, and the wind died down. The
disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying,
“This is it! Your are God’s Son for Sure!”
What a story! It is simple and complex at the same
time. Peter was no stranger to boats or
to the Sea of Galilee. He was a
fisherman before he left everything to become a disciple. Many of the other disciples were also
knowledgeable in the ways of the sea.
These men knew it was particularly dangerous to attempt to sail across
the sea at night and must have wondered why Jesus would have asked them to
cross to the other side so late in the evening.
From fishing for years, they knew storms were more likely to occur after
dark and that is exactly what happened.
Let’s try to conjure up an image of the storm described in today’s
Scripture. It wasn’t a little rain
shower; it was a furious squall with waves breaking over the boat so
ferociously that the boat was nearly swamped. Needless to say, boats caught out
in the sea are in immediate danger. Imagine the disciples sitting in that boat
knowing their lives were in peril. They
were at the mercy of the elements when suddenly out of the darkness comes what
appears to be a ghost walking on the water.
How could they have thought it was a ghost and not recognized
Jesus? Well, which is the case with so
many of the Bible’s stories, we have the luxury of knowing the story. We have the hindsight to know the figure
approaching was Jesus. They on the other
hand, did not! We really can’t be
surprised they didn’t recognize him.
They were fighting for their lives with waves crashing in their faces. I
don’t know about you, but I don’t find this an enviable position. It’s three o’clock in the morning in the
middle of a storm and suddenly they think they see a ghost. Even though Jesus tells them to fear not,
they remain justifiably terrified… I’d
like to depart from the Scripture story and share with you a time in my life
when I was debilitated by fear just as the disciples were. When I was in my mid-forties, life was
chugging along just as I had hoped and prayed it would. Janis, my wife, and I were living in a new
home we loved, our daughter Kate was an honor student, outstanding musician and
budding actress who, even as a teenager, was a joy to raise. I was a respected kindergarten teacher and
had recently become an adjunct professor at Portland State University and spent
the summer traveling the country teaching a course on the implementation of the
Standards and Practices of The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics for
effective methodologies in mathematics instruction. Life was good and even though I was thankful,
I thought my success and the wonderful life we had was because I was in charge
and had everything under control. I must confess at the time I was a card-carrying
control freak. As I said, things were
under control and I was running on all cylinders. But then, much like that night on the Sea of
Galilee, a violent storm erupted in my life with one sentence from my doctor,
“Harley, its cancer.” Waves were
suddenly crashing into my boat and I was quickly losing control. A little six-letter word, cancer, started my
world spinning out of control and I was shaken to the core because I was doing
a great job running my life. Please
understand, I attended worship every week, studied my Bible and prayed with
great regularity but in this situation I was just like the eleven disciples
that huddled in the boat. Fear paralyzed me and I didn’t know where to turn or
what to do. Instead of falling to my knees and asking God to help me, the
control freak part of my personality kicked in and I went into research
mode. I read and studied everything I
could find about the type of cancer I had and the treatment options that were
available. I seized control of the
situation. I met with the doctor and was presented with a treatment plan of
chemotherapy, and while it was, let’s say rather unpleasant, it was quite
effective. But like the eleven, I had missed Christ walking right toward
me. I let fear blind me. If only I had
reached my hand out to Him. If I had
only turned to God and let Him show me the way.
Suffice to say, 1996 was not the best year of my life physically and
spiritually. But let’s jump to the
Harley that stands before you today. The present Harley is a changed, well, a
changing man. Friends who have known me for years comment about see a
difference in me. Fear, particularly of
cancer, no longer paralyses me. This
change didn’t come immediately and honestly I wish I could stand here and tell
you had taken place much sooner than it did.
If it had, it would have been much easier to deal with the multiple
occurrences between 1996 and 2012. But
that was then and now is now. A slow
transformation started about the time I began attending Calvin. I was welcomed
into this community of believers with open arms and began to meet people. I was connecting to worship in a way I hadn’t
for years. I literally couldn’t wait to
get here on Sunday mornings. Week after
week it was as if Connie and Graham were inside my head and speaking the exact
words I needed to hear. So many times
the prayer of humility or the opening chant would strike a chord with me. Weekly Communion, something I always thought
would diminish the significance of the meal, was resonating with me and I
looked forward to it with great anticipation.
I found myself staring at the cross at the front of the sanctuary and
connecting with Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection in a new and
powerful way. The combination of these
factors played a significant role in the manner in which I would learn to deal
with cancer.
Last April I walked into
my Urologist’s office a four-year check up and was told I had a recurrence of
prostate cancer. You see, in 2007, as part of a physical and because of my age
my doctor ordered a PSA screening. I was
diagnosed with prostate cancer but went through successful surgery and had been
cancer free for three years. I went into the appointment last April confident
that I was going get another positive report but then one little sentence
changed all that. “Harley your PSA
indicates the cancer is back.” How could that be? I had the most radical surgery available, had
twenty biopsies of my abdominal lymph system and had followed the doctor’s
orders to the letter of the law. Yet the cancer was back. Initially I was thrown for a loop. But with time and the power of the Holy
Spirit, I eventually became relatively comfortable with the new
recurrence. That was until the end of
summer and early fall. That’s when it
all changed. I was being plagued with debilitating fatigue that affected every
aspect of my life. But somehow this time something was different. I felt the
storm gathering in the distance. The
winds of fear and doubt were increasing but the the storm stayed in the distance. The waves weren’t crashing into my boat. In
spite of the fatigue I began to notice the power of the Holy Spirit working in
my life. It made me think of when I
first came to faith as a twenty-one year old college senior and a friend told
me there is no such thing as a coincidence in the life of Christian. It is the Holy Spirit at work. Believe you me, last fall; the actions of the
Holy Spirit were everywhere I turned. It
takes me back to that boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee. Peter, the bold one, had the audacity to say,
“If it’s you beckon me to come to you.”
Jesus did exactly that. Without
trepidation Peter stepped from that boat.
At least, he didn’t let the Messiah pass him by. He responded to his call. He had the courage to put fear aside and step
out of the boat. The liberator had freed
him of fear. He stepped onto the water
and walked to Christ. The fatigue
brought on by the cancer allowed a sense of trepidation to grow in my life and
it took all the courage I could muster to step out of my boat and reach for the
hands of those who on Christ’s behalf were reaching out to help me. The Holy
Spirit had put in place many people who were beckoning me to come to them and
take their hand. Of course, I have the love and support of my wife and daughter
who have been an endless fount of encouragement. They have been there for me through all my
cancer battles and have never waivered in their devotion to me. I will never be
able to fully repay or give them enough thanks for all they’ve done for
me. As I said earlier, chemotherapy was
unpleasant and often Janis and Katie bore the brunt of my discomfort and
frustration. When I, like Peter, would
begin to doubt and start to sink, they would stretch out their hands and pull
me up.
The Holy Spirit placed before me the
outstretched hands of the body of believers that help to make Calvin the
special place it is. I had the support
of the men I had recently met by attending The Men’s Room. They encouraged me and prayed for me. I will
be ever grateful to those men who provided support to a newcomer and relative
stranger.
Toni, what a blessing she has been. We’ve known each other for years. I have performed in musicals she has
directed. She seemed to know exactly
when I needed a call of encouragement.
Through her phone calls and conversations, she stretched out her hand
and lifted me up. Coincidence? No, not in the life of Christians. Two others members of the Calvin Family
who were reaching out are, without a doubt Graham and Connie. Both of them stretched their hands out to me
with words of encouragement and a blanket of prayer. Early last fall Graham and I were sitting in
his office talking. In that
conversation, he told me about Calvin’s Healing Prayer Ministry. He suggested I talk with Connie to explore
the possibility of bringing these prayer warriors into my battle with the
cancer. In all honesty, the idea of meeting with them was somewhat
disconcerting for me and I was somewhat reluctant to talk with Connie but
eventually convinced myself I had nothing to lose except maybe a little
control. We spent the better part of an
hour one morning discussing the work of the Healing Prayer Ministers. My first question was – “Has the Holy Spirit
gifted these people with healing?” That
wonderful smile of Connie’s spread across her face, as she gently replied, “No,
they have the gift of prayer.” I’m sure
she was able to read the disappointment on my face. She went on to explain that God would determine
exactly what healing I needed and act accordingly. I agreed to meet with them and I am sure your
can surmise what healing I was hoping to receive. Quite selfishly I was hoping for a
miraculous cure and the cancer would be gone.
God knew better. On my first
meeting with Marie and Laurie, we talked about how I was feeling physically,
emotionally and spiritually. Physically, I wasn’t experiencing any discomfort
but the fatigue was beginning to impact every aspect of my life. I was sleeping, not always soundly, anywhere
from 12 to 16 hours a day but never felt rested. That is very uncharacteristic
of me. I usually fun full speed ahead
and have energy to burn. As we
continued to talk it didn’t take long to determine my level of anxiety was very
high. That was evidenced by the nightmares that were invading what little sleep
I was getting and the restlessness that followed each of them. We also determined my spirit was
deflated. I’m usually a pretty happy
guy. When I’m confronted with some
obstacle or situation, I stop and think, in five years what effect will this
have on my life. If I’m going to be
laughing about it in five years I might as well relax and laugh about it
now. Obviously, that strategy wasn’t
working for me because five years from now this recurrence could have a
significant impact on my life. We began to meet and pray and I have never had
an experience like it. Laurie and Marie
met with me Tuesday morning after Tuesday morning and I cannot find the words
to adequately express how those meetings changed my life. Their prayers were genuine and pure and often
left me in tears. What amazed me the
most was their investment in someone they hardly knew. They are walking talking examples of Christ’s
messengers extending a hand to me as I was sinking and pulling me up. They taught me a great deal. They taught me the power of centering prayer
and suggested the use of a mantra to bring calmness to my mind and allow God to
speak to me. At the same time, I was
reading Graham’s book, Discovering the Narrow Path and had just read
about mantras. It was also at that time
he had us practice using a mantra as a part of one of his sermons. Coincidence, I don’t think so. It was the Holy Spirit providing me with
opportunities to take the hands of Christ’s messengers and bring peace to my
life. The other gift Laurie and Marie
gave to me was permission to pray on my own behalf. Until that time most of my prayers were
intercessory and prayers of thanksgiving.
I was very good at asking God to provide and care for others but somehow
didn’t feel right about praying for my needs. These wonderful prayer warriors
actually gave me words to pray that allowed me to come before God openly and
honestly on my own behalf. One powerful
suggestion was as I was going to sleep I should pray that the healthy cells of
my body would overtake the cancerous cells.
This opened up a new vista for me and allowed sound sleep to
return. The restless nights didn’t
completely disappear but when I was awakened in the middle of the night I would
go into my mantra, Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul.
Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul and my mind would become quiet and sleep
would return. It may sound strange but
in my mind’s eye I actually can see a V of black begin to grow and lead me to
my centered place where I was quiet and listened to God speak to me. These two women
and the other members of the Healing Prayer Ministry are rare and I hope you
all appreciate the blessing they are to so many people and are thankful for the
powerful ministry they carry out. I know
I am.
Fortunately, I am blessed to have others in my
life who when I am like Peter and am overcome by fear and begin to sink, reach
out in Christian love and pull me up.
There is my friend Eric whom I jokingly call my walking concordance. He is always there when I need him. It seems to me he knows when I need words of
encouragement and is always there to provide them. Coincidence? No, it is the Holy Spirit at work. Eric is an inspiration that helps me and
stretches out his hand when I allow fear to creep in and I start to sink. Another rock in my life is my accountability
partner, David. David and I have met
nearly every Saturday morning for the last thirteen years, we walk at North
Park and confess to each other and then have breakfast together. Now here’s the
groaner. We meet at 5:30 a.m. It is the only time we could find that no one
else wanted. He is always there for me
and has been a rock throughout my various bouts with cancer. He has the uncanny ability to say the things
that I don’t always want to hear.
Recently when I got a little whiny about being sick again he said, “You
my friend have beaten cancer five times because God intervened and answered the
prayers that so many people lifted on your behalf. He went on to remind me of
the power and strength available to me if I turned it over to God and let Him
control the situation. Not that I didn’t
have to make informed decisions and be diligent in the treatment regimen but
still allow God. He also reminded me there
are five families who are grieving the loss of their loved ones who did not
survive their first occurrences.
Humbling to say the least. But, sometimes what we need to hear isn’t
always the easiest thing to hear.
In the time since the diagnosis of this
latest recurrence, I have learned that peace comes when I relinquish control
and ALLOW GOD. It should be very simple but it’s not. All I can do is strive to extinguish my fear
by relinquishing control and TRUST in God.
His majesty and might far exceed anything I can muster so why would I
limit Him. I wish I could have learned these lessons after the first, second,
third, fourth, or fifth occurrence and it isn’t as if I didn’t have Christian
hands being extended to me then. It’s
just that I’m a little hard headed and sometimes I have to be hit with a 2X4
before I take notice. What I am thankful
for is God desires nothing more than for us to turn to him and as Bill said
last week, “Whenever we turn to God, He is right there and He’s been there all
along. Our God is a good God who never
turns away. There are still times when
fear starts to get the best of me and I begin to sink. But I know there are
always hands being extended to pull me up, walk with me and provide the
spiritual guidance and support I need.
Here’s one more example. The Holy Spirit even turned up in my voice lesson. My voice teacher, Jeff, asked me to find the
music for a particular song. When I
downloaded it and read the lyrics, I was reduced to tears. Here’s the chorus:
Is it the wind
over my shoulder?
Is it the wind
calling quietly?
Over the
hilltops, down in the valley,
Never alone for
your walk, with me.
No not alone. Not
alone and I’ll never be.
Never alone for
walk, you walk with me.
I am never alone. The Holy Spirit has provided what seems like
a never-ending stream of people who on Christ’s behalf extend their hands to me
and pull me up when I begin to sink.
Those people help me live out Psalm
30:11-12
You turned my wailing into dancing; you
removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy that my heart may sing to you and
not be silent. Oh, Lord, my God, I will
give you thanks forever.
