Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the water, put you hand of the hand of the man who calmed the sea.
Do you remember that catchy song in the 70’s? Take a look at yourself and you can look at others differently, by putting your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.
Popular as this song was – it hit number 2 on the top 40 – it illustrates perfectly a common error in biblical interpretation. There’s a tendency to glom on to the miracles and gloss over the seemingly mundane. True, most of us aren’t biblical scholars. But when any of us emphasize the part of the story where Jesus calms the sea we have, so to speak, missed the boat.Today we heard the first of a series of stories Mark tells that reveal Jesus’ divine identity through his mighty works. Certainly, it is no small task to seize control over the elements. In fact, it is indeed the miracle of calming the water that enabled the boat to cross the sea. However, it’s the act of crossing the sea, not the act of calming the sea, that begs our attention.
When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples, "Let us go across to the other side." Today, we too are called to go to the other side.
The Sea of Galilee served as a geographical partition separating the Jews and the Gentiles. Crossing over onto Gentile territory was dangerous. The people on the “other side” of the Sea were foreign and considered unclean – people whom today we might describe as the Other. When Jesus is finished teaching the Galileans, who were his people, his kin gathered ‘round him at the seaside, he beckons his disciples to cross to the other side. With this gesture, Jesus is extending his ministry not only to strangers, but those considered to be enemies of the House of Israel. He doesn’t wait for the Other to have a change of heart and come to him – Jesus actively moves out into the world seeking them.
And when he meets the stranger where they are, Jesus reaches out and touches them as they are.
Now this is the part in the gospel where Mark showers us with gritty details of just how contaminated the gentiles are – we’re told of the man who lived among the tombs, in other words, in the realm of the dead. And the women who had hemorrhaged for twelve years; the consequences of menstruation, even for a few days, is isolation. But these are the people Jesus touched. These are the outcasts that Jesus loved.
In a way, the fence that surrounds our beautiful church building is like the Sea of Galilee. It is the physical barrier between those of us inside the church practicing our holy rituals, and those outside who are smelly – quite literally, unclean.
When Bishop Marc was with us last Sunday, he urged us to remember that Christ is all around us, not just in the grace-filled community we have created within our walls. As we move into an Area Ministry model of doing church here at St John’s, Bp. Marc asked us to consider who the people are that make us uncomfortable? In the language of the Hebrew Scriptures – Who defiles our purity? +Marc contends that these are the very people we are called to reach out to and serve.
As a progressive lesbian nurse who takes pride in being open-minded, I had a hard time identifying anyone I wouldn’t want to touch or invite into our church. I’m not the only lefty liberal in this congregation -- it might also be difficult for some of you to identify the Gentiles in your life. Fortunately, after our forum, Sheila Andrus helped me figure out a way to recognize the Other in my life. The key is actually the popular holiday we celebrate today - Father’s day. Any father can tell you whom Jesus is urging them to serve. This is true for mothers as well. If you don’t have children, just imagine -
Who is the person you don’t want your child to grow up to be?
Think about it and ask yourself these questions:
I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
If she joins a violent gang, I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
If she grows up and is straight, I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
Just kidding.
But here is my truth - if Firefly grows up to be a homophobic republican I will be devastated. Maybe I would even feel unsafe and threatened. I feel uncomfortable around people who describe themselves as born-again, members of the NRA, and advocates of the death penalty. These are the people I react to with judgment and a hardened heart. Of course, the Other is different for each of us. I pray I haven’t offended anyone with my self-disclosure.
I am reminded of Paul’s impassioned letter to the Corinthians, he writes:
Our heart is wide open to you. There is no restriction in our affections,
but only in yours. In return -- I speak as to children -- open wide your hearts also.
I will proceed a bit more gently than Paul. I’d like to ask you to pay attention to what causes your hearts to harden – not just the people with annoying habits you encounter day-to-day, but what values, and belief systems do you easily dismiss? What emotions cause you to retreat? What human condition is so painful that you find yourself closing your eyes rather than allowing yourself to imagine the agonizing reality?
If you didn’t have the opportunity to participate in the walking meditation that Lauren Dietrich and Christopher Evans so thoughtfully created, I urge you to do so, and I urge Lauren and Christopher to offer their gift to the community again. They led us on a journey through the neighborhood where we stopped at various points to pray. Praying in public with eyes open is risky; I became aware of uncertainties that had never before surfaced during prayer time in church:
Where will our breath carrying the Magnificat go?
If He has filled the hungry with good things, why are they begging for money?
Will I be among the rich who will be sent away empty?
In just 4 square blocks around our church, there is an awful lot to take in. Being in a place and being present to the space and those around us, without being distracted by the goal of reaching some other destination, changes the experience of the place. I’ve lived here for 20 years. But last week, by simply slowing down and consciously opening my heart, I saw the neighborhood anew, as if I were traveling in a far away city that I wanted to get to know – like Paris or Seville. What I experienced during the walking meditation was both beautiful and tragic. Try it, if you dare.
- It would break my heart if my daughter grew up and became a _____?
- I want my son to be happy, but oh God, please don’t let him marry a _____?
I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
If she joins a violent gang, I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
If she grows up and is straight, I’ll love her to death and I’ll do what I can to help her.
Just kidding.
But here is my truth - if Firefly grows up to be a homophobic republican I will be devastated. Maybe I would even feel unsafe and threatened. I feel uncomfortable around people who describe themselves as born-again, members of the NRA, and advocates of the death penalty. These are the people I react to with judgment and a hardened heart. Of course, the Other is different for each of us. I pray I haven’t offended anyone with my self-disclosure.
I am reminded of Paul’s impassioned letter to the Corinthians, he writes:
Our heart is wide open to you. There is no restriction in our affections,
but only in yours. In return -- I speak as to children -- open wide your hearts also.
I will proceed a bit more gently than Paul. I’d like to ask you to pay attention to what causes your hearts to harden – not just the people with annoying habits you encounter day-to-day, but what values, and belief systems do you easily dismiss? What emotions cause you to retreat? What human condition is so painful that you find yourself closing your eyes rather than allowing yourself to imagine the agonizing reality?
If you didn’t have the opportunity to participate in the walking meditation that Lauren Dietrich and Christopher Evans so thoughtfully created, I urge you to do so, and I urge Lauren and Christopher to offer their gift to the community again. They led us on a journey through the neighborhood where we stopped at various points to pray. Praying in public with eyes open is risky; I became aware of uncertainties that had never before surfaced during prayer time in church:
Where will our breath carrying the Magnificat go?
If He has filled the hungry with good things, why are they begging for money?
Will I be among the rich who will be sent away empty?
In just 4 square blocks around our church, there is an awful lot to take in. Being in a place and being present to the space and those around us, without being distracted by the goal of reaching some other destination, changes the experience of the place. I’ve lived here for 20 years. But last week, by simply slowing down and consciously opening my heart, I saw the neighborhood anew, as if I were traveling in a far away city that I wanted to get to know – like Paris or Seville. What I experienced during the walking meditation was both beautiful and tragic. Try it, if you dare.
We all know there is overwhelming need right here, not only in our community, but also on our doorstep and within our congregation. Thomas Aquinas said, I would rather feel compassion than know the meaning of it. In other words, there is a huge difference between knowledge of a condition, and opening our hearts to the condition. The awareness of a particular injustice might prompt a forum or as with the polity of the Episcopal Church, further study. But when we open our hearts as Paul urges the Corinthians and us to do, the Holy Spirit will move us into the world putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we will commend ourselves in every way.
Jesus’ heart was wide open to God when he commanded the fierce sky and sea to be still. No obstacle in this world could have stopped that boat carrying Jesus and his disciples to the other side: No calamities, beatings, sleepless nights or hunger. But by patience, kindness, love and truthful speech Jesus took his ministry across the sea and out into the world.
Today, we will be introducing 2 new members: Johanna Westeson and Paul Read. Welcome aboard, we are blessed that your faith journey has brought you here. We can’t promise fair weather and calm seas, but you can rest assured that Jesus will be with us as we head out to the other side.
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