Who are our kin?

Sunday, September 5, 2021

St Barnabas, Norwich, VT

Sermon by Rev Jennie M Anderson

Lord, make us stewards of ourselves, that we may be servants of others. Take my words and speak through them, take our minds and think through them, take our hearts and set them on fire, for Jesus’ sake. Amen. Good morning! Welcome!

Who are our kin and how do we participate in God’s redemptive love? Be opened. Have Mercy.

Jesus just wanted a moment of privacy, to rest and be alone with God, but instead, he’s confronted with human need. He didn’t know her and neither do we. Her name and that of her daughter is omitted from the recounting of events, only the place that she comes from, and that she is other... Her full story remains untold, but we do know her status as an outsider who somehow--and immediately--heard about Jesus.

In Mark’s version of the good news, he emphasizes that what happens--whatever it might be--occurred immediately. He uses that particular word a lot, even excessively. It must be intentional. The work of Christ wasn’t incremental and gently unfolding; it was urgent, impactful, and instant. There’s no urging for patience or settling for a lesser version of healing, restoration, or repair. Mark wants us to know that when Jesus acted or reacted, there was no delay. Jesus may have wanted to rest and retreat on a regular basis, but he did not choose to avoid confrontation.

Jesus says, “Be opened” when he restores the deaf man. He does it in private, but the man and those who advocated for his healing cannot keep the miracle to themselves. Yes, this spreads the good news, but it also announces the kindom–the reign of God - and the inclusive composition of it. This week’s reading from James cautions against showing partiality and making distinctions among God’s children. We are invited to consider our cultural notions of inclusion in the kindom of God and our participation in it. [Cheryl Lindsay]. My dear ones, listen! Hasn’t God chosen those who are poor, by worldly standards, to be rich in terms of faith? Hasn’t God chosen the poor as heirs of the kingdom he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonored the poor. Don’t the wealthy make life difficult for you? Aren’t they the ones who drag you into court? Aren’t they the ones who insult the good name spoken over you at your baptism? You do well when you really fulfill the law found in scripture, Love your neighbor as yourself. I love Paul’s letter to James and find it rich and real as it gives me hope as a carpenter/laborer all through the first half of my life to have been both poor and rich, in all the good ways. I love the story of the Syrophoenician Woman and the Deaf One becoming unstuck, being opened up. How do we accept the invitation to risk all in seeking mercy and to gain all in finding that mercy leads to being opened?

The late, Rev. Dr. Fred Craddock was a gift to us in inviting us to go deeper into the scriptures and would say something like this:

Now, wait a minute, what’s Jesus up to here? Is he pronouncing an age-old prejudice like a slow-pitch softball floating over home plate, precisely so this gifted, fierce young mother can take her bat and knock it out of the park? Perhaps… Or is he bogged down in what his teachers taught him, as we so often are? Does he learn something from the woman in this back and forth? Does she change his mind? Is she the rabbi here, the one who will open his perspective a bit more, a bit more…? You know, later on he says to the man in Sidon, “Be opened!” — but could it be that Jesus only does so because the Syrophoenician woman has already done the same for him? Perhaps…

Or is there instead a twinkle in Jesus' eye, even from the outset? Does he know very well that God's geometry cannot and will not be contained to one small circle only, but finally must become a great Circle that includes all other circles? Does he in fact know this perfectly well — but takes more pleasure in *her* making the point as only she can, rather than making it himself? He makes so many points, after all — why not make room so that she can make this one? She certainly makes it quite well, and this way, not one but two points are made: about inclusion, yes, but also about the power and wisdom of the supposed outsider, the foreigner, the enemy, the one who is supposedly second-class...

I don’t know. I suppose we’ll never know. But here’s one thing we do know: she sure did hit that ball out of the park. Oh yes! And whether or not she opened Jesus’ mind in the process, I’m confident she opened more than one mind among his disciples that day, at least for a fleeting moment, before they fell back into the old fears and resentments. I’m even sure she’ll open one or two of our minds here today if we’re not careful, virtuoso of faith that she is, profile in courage, champion of chutzpah. Do you have eyes to see, ears to hear? Perhaps you do. Be opened, she says, be opened... Be opened, Jesus says, be opened! [Salt]

As the bible study group met yesterday, we touched on our struggle with those who have been judged and found guilty of difficult and painful crimes, especially those we have admired for the gifts they have brought to the world with their talents. How hard it is to find forgiveness and mercy when our hearts have been broken by that great fall from the pedestal of god-like fame and talent… It was such an interesting conversation because, in part, it led us to consider how much each of us needs mercy. As we look deeply into our own souls, we can easily find places where we have harmed another, or done something, or more often, not done anything when we should have, and when we find these places of vulnerability and pain, we know how badly we too need mercy. This is what I find as the essential truth to today’s gospel, and supported by the guidance in Paul’s letter to James. Mercy – As Br. Sean Glenn put it this week, “It is not our work or strength that will make us whole; no program will lift us to that place from which we finally lose our tiny, creaturely perspective. The only thing that can restore our vision is the mercy of God—an encounter with [Jesus] Love, the shepherd who has left all to “tramp the hills” in search of you and me. Our invitation as God’s people is not to pretend to be good, or pious or saintly; it is to open ourselves to the searching, active mercy of God.” Mercy, mercy, mercy.

This week, Friday, September 10 is the birthday of the poet Mary Oliver, who died in 2019 and left us with a legacy of splendor through her poetry, and so I close these reflections with one of her most famous poems and then a prayer.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Let us pray. Holy One, maker of us all, you call us to love our neighbors as ourselves and teach us that faith without works is dead. Open us to the opportunities for ministry that lie before us, where faith and works and the need of our neighbor come together in love and mercy, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior. Amen.