July 19, 2009 Psalm 23
July 4th Weekend Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Two Different Stories
So, how’s your summer going?
Diane and I enjoyed a trip to Maine this week. In the car on the way up were three grandchildren, ages 10, 8 and 6. On the way home to the Cape there were five grandchildren, ages 10, 9, 8, 7, and 6. That translates into lots of time to remember what it was like to be a child!
I was reminded to all those great “knock knock” jokes. And, of course,
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody who?”
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“To get to the other side.”
“Why did the turkey cross the road?”
“Because the chicken was off for day the.”
Why did the spider cross the road?
“To find a new web site.”
And so on.
This is certainly the time for family gatherings, for young and old to reconnect. Several four generations pictures were taken…you know of what I speak.
But, meanwhile, back at church, the ministry of the Word goes on and today’s text about the crowds coming to Jesus for healing, provides a great theological backdrop to emphasize, again, parts of our Vision Statement. A few weeks ago, I read the section of the Statement that explains our welcome to all.
As an Open and Affirming congregation (Col. 3:11) we seek to provide a place for all people that will help them move deeper into relationship with God and others, living together with care, forgiveness, reconciliation and joy. (Col. 3:12-17) With God's grace, we seek to be a congregation that includes all persons, embracing differences of religious upbringing, age, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, mental and physical ability, as well as racial, ethnic, or socio-economic background. We welcome all to share in the life and leadership, ministry and fellowship, worship, sacraments, responsibilities and blessings of participation in our congregation.
I want to expand on that this morning by telling two stories, since Jesus turns no one away. First, a true story of a man who went through a painful process of explaining to his parents that he was gay.
Second, a story I’ve used before in a sermon, but I have no idea where it came from. It may be true or it may have been made up to make a point. Either way it is a story that defines “welcome.”
While living in Bellevue, WA, I had the privilege of attending a lecture by John Shelby Spong. John was the Episcopal bishop of Newark after which he retired in 2000. He is understood by many to be a leading spokesperson for progressive Christianity.
Our first story comes from his book, The Sins of Scripture: Exposing the Bible’s Texts of Hate to Reveal the Love of God. (San Francisco: Harper, 2005, pps. 124-125).
Reminding the reader of the horrible attack on the young and gay university student, Matthew Shepard, which resulted in his death, John shares this story told to him by a Methodist chaplain in a school. These are his actual words:
This young man grew up in a family where the father and mother both expressed vehement negativity about homosexuality. Both parents were heard to say that they would rather see their son dead than to know he was gay. So their son, knowing himself to be homosexual, hid deeper and deeper in his closet of security. When the time came for him to enter a university, he chose an academic setting on the other side of the country. University activities crowded his summer and holidays so that he was able to return home only for brief visits. When he graduated, he took a position near his university. Contact with his family was minimal. He drifted into the gay ghetto and ultimately contracted AIDS. When it was finally diagnosed, he faced the fact that he would not live much longer.
His deepest hope was to reconcile himself with his parents before he died. The relationship, however, was so estranged, however, that he did not know how to do it. That was when he sought the counsel of this Methodist chaplain. After some conversation they decided together that the best way to approach this young man’s parents was through a letter that would tell them that he was gay and dying with AIDS and would convey his dying wish to visit them and seek reconciliation. The letter was carefully crafted, addressed and mailed. About ten days later, a reply was received. The young man did not want to answer this letter alone, so back to the Methodist chaplain he went. When the envelope was opened they discovered that it contained a blank piece of paper that when unfolded revealed the torn pieces of a printed document. It was the young man’s birth certificate. (end quote)
Good friends, Jesus Christ never turned anyone away and neither will we. But, not only do we welcome gay people, we affirm them. Huge difference. There are lots of churches out there that welcome everyone, or so they say, until a member of the gay community appears. Then suddenly the welcome is conditional: we welcome you, but we don’t approve of you. Churches like Manifested Glory Ministries of Bridgeport, Conn. explain homosexuality as a “lifestyle.” I do not. The church has a clip on youtube showing them trying to exorcise the “Homosexual demon” our of a young man.
Being gay is not a moral choice, nor is it attributable to demons: it is a God given part of one’s unique identity.
There will be no demonizing of gay people inside these walls, nor will there be any disparaging comments of any kind about anybody! Our own Mashpee High School has it right: Mashpee is no place for hate.
How’s that for clarifying my position on open and affirming? Can I make it any clearer? To be open to gay persons is one thing; to affirm gay persons is yet another.
The second story, as you might expect ends differently and addresses another form of discrimination, namely, of that which we feel exceeds the boundaries of normal appearance.
Again, there is a university setting involved, this time in the late 70’s. The community church right on the edge of the campus is dying and, ironically, it has no young people. So, the Board of Deacons holds a meeting and decides that it needs to find a way to bring some of the college kids into the church. They try posters in the cafeteria, ads in the school paper, fliers under dormitory doors. Nothing seems to be working.
“Oh, to be back in the 50’s when our church was filled with young families.” They try changing the service format, but nothing works.
Then one Sunday, Bill, a junior majoring in Philosophy surprises them all by actually showing up. “Great, a college student! But his long hair is a mess and his tied died shirt and his ragged jeans are a disaster. And those feet! He’s not wearing any shoes!”
Bill enters the sanctuary from the rear and assesses things. The oak pews in the back are filled. The front pews are open but it’s a long walk down that center aisle and the service is already underway. And those saints staring at him in their glass stained windows don’t look too happy.
But that doesn’t stop Bill. He walks boldly down the center aisle to the very front and promptly sits down on the floor where he can take in the sermon.
In the back pew, adorned in his classic pin stripe suit and shiny wing tip shoes is life-long Deacon Harry A. Smith, Jr. His dad was a deacon, too. Harry is 87 years old and requires a steel tipped cane to get around.
As Bill settles into the sermon, Harry rises from his pew with mission written in his eyes. He works his way to the center aisle, cane in hand, and begins the 70’ walk toward front. The closer he gets to Bill, the quieter the congregation becomes. Some are close to holding their breaths.
The preacher, of course, sees what’s going on. He thinks of all those Deacons meetings when Harry fought against change. “Let’s keep things the way they are. There’s nothing wrong with the way we’re doing it!”
Now Harry is only a few feet away from Bill and even the preacher is focused on the encounter about to happen. He stops the sermon and watches.
Harry lifts his cane and sets it on a pew, grabs hold of the end of the pew and with great effort, lowers himself to the floor and sits next to Bill, where he remains until the service is over.
Having the doors open for Bill that morning was a gesture of welcome.
Joining him on the floor, was sheer affirmation.
We are an open and affirming congregation.
Amen.
