The Fifth Sunday after
Pentecost, Proper 7, Year C
19 June 2016
19 June 2016
May the words of my mouth and
the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.
Last
week’s tragic shooting in Orlando. A gunman killed 49 people and wounded 53 at
a crowded gay nightclub in Florida. This
was not where I planned to begin my sermon a week ago. And that is where we
are.
Senseless
violence has once again shattered lives, violating a sanctuary, the one
sacred place for one of my tribes, the LGBT people who simply sought to enjoy
themselves without judgment. The pain is indescribable.
If
you listen to the overtones of the situation, you can hear Jesus asking us,
“what is your name?” We, as a society, are exposed. What is your name? How do we begin to
describe the event – was it the result of mental illness? Was it a hate crime
against Latino people? Was it violence against the queer community? Was it
rejection of Disneyland, the happiest place on earth? Was it internalized
homophobia acting out? If you listen,
you can hear Jesus crying out, “what is your name?” There is a lot of trouble
in our world. Is there a word from the
Lord here?
Today’s
Gospel message tells of a man in the country of the Gerasenes who offers a name
to his pain, so that he can find healing.
He
was “other” to Jesus and his disciples:
·
He
was from a land opposite Galilee, where they raised pigs (clearly not Jewish).
·
He
wore unfamiliar attire – in fact, no clothes at all, which shamed and
embarrassed everyone around him.
·
He
did not live in a house – he lived in the tombs, a place of burial for the dead
and shelter for very poor people.
·
He
shouted at the top of his voice, falling down in an act of homage under the
power of the demons, begging to be free.
·
He
was ready for a change – a change that would transform his life,
a
change that only Jesus, Son of the Most High God, could bring.
-Jesus
knew this readiness even before the man asked.
Tired
of being possessed, the man sought a change: promise of a future different from
the past, a change towards a new direction, a change triggered by
exposure.
What
is your name? Jesus asked. “Legion.” He
replied, exposing all that degraded and demeaned his life. And Jesus permitted
the demons (the many aspects of possession) to enter the herd of swine
nearby. Freed, the man was transformed,
from being out of his mind to sitting at Jesus’ feet; from living in the tombs
to preaching in the city; from being naked to being clothed.[1]
Jesus transformed the man.
What
is your name? Jesus asks our world full of senseless violence. “Legion,” we lament, exposing all that
degrades and demeans our lives, often based in fear of what is “other” than us.
Our society is tired of being possessed, and in the news you can track the many
ways that our common lives are being confronted. In the face of our own
“Legion,” we are exposed. And, in that discomfort,
even pain, it is no wonder we choose to remain our places of stunned
brokenness, possessed by trouble to which the world says “that’s just the way
it is.” Perhaps it’s too painful for us, so we clam up. Or we distance ourselves from the other.
Author
James Norriss describes "othering[2]" as: “any action by which
an individual or group becomes mentally classified in somebody's mind as 'not
one of us'. Rather than always remembering that every person is a complex
bundle of emotions, ideas, motivations, reflexes, priorities, and many other
subtle aspects, it's sometimes easier to dismiss them as being in some way less
human, and less worthy of respect and dignity, than we are. If you're not
"one of us", he writes, you can be dismissed and hated as an
"other", the enemy.”
There
is another way. The way begins with the
companionship of Jesus. Thoughts and
prayers begin the healing journey.
Naming our pain begins to bind our wounds. Holding on to Jesus’ courage and conviction
that we are one body, we can come out and we can claim our true
identity, facing the deeper consequences of that fact:
when we come out – as a faith community of
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, queer, questioning, intersex and allies
when we come out – as a community of all
ethnicities and races
when we come out – as a community blessed with
all kinds of people who are different, then
we offer our own vulnerable lives, then we are dispossessed of what binds us. then, we are transformed by love, then, we recognize that in Jesus, all
that is degraded and demeaned in our life departs from us.
Today,
we come out. We come out as welcoming, transforming, trusting, loving, healing
and grounded in a life that opens us up to more transformation. We cannot
remain the same. We are disciples, and
we open our hearts to all the ways that God is changing us, freeing us from our
possessions.
Even
before we even fall to our knees, Jesus commands those demons that hold
us back, individually, communally, and in our society, to come out of us.
Jesus’ healing grace binds up what is broken, reconciles relationships that are
divided, and drenches with love what is steeped in hate.
Today,
in response to the unnamable pain, we
come out. We come out on the side of
love. We come out demanding a just
society. We come out remembering the poor. We come out in response to this
incident by using our educated minds and rights as citizens to contact our
representatives and to express our opinions about legislation that supports
civility among all people. We come out
against unjust laws. We come out as
faithful members of a community that yearns to be transformed.
What
is our name? Our name is One, in Christ
Jesus.
For
as St. Paul begs[3] in his letter to the
Ephesians, “we can lead a life worthy of the calling, with all humility and
gentleness, with patience, bearing one another in love, making every effort to
maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
For
what is our name? The name is ONE. One
body and one spirit, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of
all, who is above all and through all and in all. This is our hope. And it is enough.
May
we know the grace given today, in the gift of Jesus Christ,
for
One is our name.
Amen
[1] Inspired by Karoline Lewis,
Naked No More, posted on June 12, 2016 at https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?m=4377&post=4678
[2] Cited in Peter Sawtell’s Eco-Justice
Notes on June
17, 2016 and quoting from this blog: https://therearenoothers.wordpress.com/2011/12/28/othering-101-what-is-othering/
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