Sermon of 24 June 2007, Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 7)****************************************************************
Readings: 1 Kings 19:1-15a, Psalm 42, Galatians 3:23-29, Luke 8:26-39

There is something very different about today’s gospel reading – In fact, Jesus does several things in today’s gospel reading that he does not do a single other time throughout the rest of Luke’s telling of the Gospel, and yet it is subtle enough that we frequently read right over it without recognizing the significance of what has just happened.

A few verses before today’s reading, we hear the beginning of today’s adventure… One day, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, ‘let’s go across to the other side of the Lake.’

This is the one and only visit that Jesus makes to Gentile territory in Luke’s gospel, and it is the setting of a very unique encounter.

As Jesus and the disciples step out of the boat onto foreign Gerasene land, they are approached by a local man who is possessed with a Legion of demons. Some time ago, Jesus had healed another gentile – the daughter of a centurion – while in Capernaum, but this was a different time and a different place. In these strange surroundings with only the disciples as his companions, Jesus allowed the demons to speak, to recognize him, and to plead with him. Agreeing to let them go into a heard of swine, this foreign holy man in a strange land ends up drowning a whole heard of the local’s pigs. The swinherds bolt for the city and bring back a crowd of Gerasenes and other locals who are no doubt stunned at the tale the swineherds told them. Gripped with fear at seeing their local madman sitting at Jesus’ feet, clothed and conversant, they ask Jesus to leave – his apparent power is too much for them. As has happened in so many other gospel stories about non-Jews being healed, the Gerasene demoniac pursues Jesus to thank him.

In this exchange there are two additional differences from any other encounter we read in the gospels. The man who begged to follow Jesus was not given a condition which he must meet in order to follow, but was simply told to go home. He is also not told to keep silent about what has happened that day, but, on the contrary, he is told to declare how much God had done for him, which he is only too happy to do.

The Gerasenes had no warning, no prophecies, no preparation for the awesome and healing power that Jesus commanded and they were understandably terrified. Who was this powerful foreigner? Were all of his people like him? Had he come to destroy them? The unknown prospects were endless and too frightening to be anything other than grim. So they plead with Jesus to leave them and he departs… BUT he leaves a proselyte behind to proclaim the wonders of God’s grace to the local population – one of their own, who had been so miraculously touched by Christ’s healing power that his change could not possibly go unnoticed.

How different this experience is from the other side of the shore where throngs of people from cities and village across Galilee and Judea flock to Christ’s presence to be healed and to hear his teachings – and yet these are demonstrably without the same thanks that Jesus receives from the select few gentiles that receive healing at his hand.

For those under the law who have long awaited the coming of messiah, there are myriad responsibilities that must be fulfilled upon being healed – reporting to the temple priests in order to be declared clean and be reintegrated into normal society, sacrifices of thanksgiving, purification rituals, prayers and incense, not to mention the awesome bragging rights of being touched and healed by messiah! There is no such obligation on the part of the Gentiles, who, free from the binding weight of thousands of years of tradition, are free to fully experience the deep and profound thankfulness that convicts them of God’s awesome power in their lives.

Jesus uses just such a converted heart in today’s Gospel to prepare the way amongst the Gerasenes for the abundance of God’s kingdom to be brought near, the benefits of which Paul and other missionaries to the Gentiles reap within a generation of Jesus’ healing of this one man – finding the soil tilled and ready to sow the fruits of God’s kingdom amongst them.

Paul relates to the church at Galatia today by describing the law as both guardian and warden until the time would come that he describes as the faith in Christ that frees us. But it isn’t in any way that Christ threw out the Law or the years of beloved tradition of the Jewish people, Jesus was very specific about that. What Christ does is something far more radical. In what Paul describes as clothing ourselves with Christ, Christ frees each of us from ourselves – from our own self-imposed blindness and limitations, from our own history of tradition that keeps us bound to our past and locked into our familiar patterns of living, frees us from our paralyzing fear of a God that is so close, so personal, and so powerfully working in us that we each literally have the power to change the world... starting with our own.

Today Christ uses the Gerasene demoniac to do just that – to change the hopes and expectations of a foreign population to prepare them to come face to face with God.

If then, through Christ, we are no longer bound to the categories that we’ve spent millennia developing to compartmentalize and divide ourselves from one another, slave and free, male and female, Jew and Greek, black and white, American and Iraqi, Gay and straight, Us and them... what does it mean for us today?

In many ways I feel that our society and our church are in a less healthy stasis than that which Paul describes as waiting under the Law for faith to come. Somewhere between the shores of Galilee and the land of the Gerasenes, we are neither ready to let go of the Law nor ready to embrace the divisionless freedoms of the opposite shore.

Just before today’s gospel reading where Jesus arrives on the Gerasene shore, we read that while still on the sea Jesus fell asleep and a storm rose up. The boat was filling up with water and the disciples were terrified. They woke Jesus, shouting ‘Master, Master, we are perishing!’ And he woke up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm...

From our own place in the boat, we frequently find that we are still in the midst of the storm of confusion and chaos that precedes the calm place of silence and understanding... that precedes arriving on foreign shores where the freedom of new understanding gives us a frightening glimpse of the true power that we possess as children of God.

Elijah’s story today gives us another remarkable example of the place of chaos that can so easily overrun our hearts and minds amidst the demands of our lives.

Running from Jezebel, who has sworn an oath to kill him, Elijah takes to the hills in retreat. His own chaos is mirrored in the mountain-splitting wind, the foundation rocking earthquake, and the all consuming fire that precede God. Again it is only after the ravages of the storm pass that the sound of sheer silence, the calm after the storm, the inner peace after ceasing to struggle, bring Elijah into God’s presence.

What are we – right here, right now, today – running from, and who are we running to? Of course, the answer for each of us is different at different times and places in our own lives and journey, but the journey itself is one that is all too familiar for most, if not all of us.

Today’s readings are particularly poignant for me as I discovered in preparing for my sermon this morning that I too have been running. I have been in the boat on the sea in the midst of the storm. I have been struggling between law and freedom as I have struggled to hold an extended family together amidst hardships of addiction, infidelity, denial, and codependence – such that lately it has become a burden even to speak with some members of my family. The trouble is that in the midst of the storm I have been in such a state of chaos and struggle, as I have striven to give emotional support and spiritual counseling to each of my troubled loved ones, that I haven’t had the presence to recognize the strain it has been putting on me and the relationships at the root of these problems. I find that I can no longer seek to put a band aid over the cancer that is eating away at some of the most precious relationships in my life.

In the sheer silences of today’s readings, I find a keen understanding of the moments of clarity that follow the chaos of a heart in turmoil. I find that I am finally ready to let go of the long history of tradition that has tied me to the Galilee shore and embrace the frightening freedom of God’s healing in a strange new land.

The master is awake... the sea has been calmed… the choice before me now is whether to return to the familiar shores of my own tradition of ignoring and waiting out the storm in hopes that it will resolve itself, or to head to the opposite shore where the terrifying unknown path of faith lies with the promise of freedom.

With Jesus and Elijah, we are each called today to examine the histories we have built for ourselves, to examine the new shores of change, and to listen for God’s voice in the stillness of our hearts to guide us out of chaos into freedom, faith, and new life.

With Paul we are called to clothe ourselves with Christ, to break down the artificial divisions that we’ve been taught to put between ourselves and others, that we perpetuate and multiply through our own willfulness to hide from the radical freedom to which Christ calls us, and to experience, first hand, the powerful healing work of Christ in calming the storm around us and giving us a new vision of peace and hope.

With our Psalmist, we thirst for God as with heavy souls we trust and strive for the promise of God’s peace.

As I set sail for the Gerasene shore away from my own family tradition of silence and acceptance, I realize and accept that I may be met with fearful natives that wish me to go back to the old way of doing things, but through Christ, I also know that I must follow the frightening path of the unknown to reach out in faith and hope for a future of freedom that knows no boundaries or divisions and fears no consequence for the furthering of God’s kingdom.

Let us join with Christ in striving for the far shore.

Amen.

D'ah! TeamTagged by Fuego and Sadu Crobinhobin -

The rules:

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

OK, so here we go with eight things:

1. I make up bizarre recipes and then eat them... I almost always enjoy them. This morning I found a frozen cinnamon-raisin bagel in the freezer. I also found some ricotta cheese in the refrigerator. Then I spotted some pesto... voila! A taste sensation from the scraps of unspoilt food at chez moi. I cut the bagel in half, smeared it with pesto and topped it with a generous helping of ricotta, then popped it in the toaster oven for 5 minutes. If I'd been more awake I would have added some extra-spicy powdered Indian Cayenne pepper to it to zing it up a bit... oh well, there's always next time!

(*I would note that many of my creations involve peanut butter, curry, hot peppers/pepper sauce, and some form of cheese and bread. Since this morning's didn't include peanut butter, I hope I haven't disappointed any of my recipe followers =o)

2. You know how people in musicals just bust out with a random song for apparently any (or no) reason at all? I do that. But only when I think no one is listening ;o)

3. I still test 9-volt batteries using my tongue.

4. I successfully faked an appendicitis when I was in eighth grade... now I have a hernia on my appendectomy scar (figures).

5. I still have an Atari 2600 (it's awesome!) Okay, so I still have all of my old game systems from 8-bit Nintendo on up to the Wii.

6. I also faked needing glasses when I was in high school. The glasses actually helped when I was tired and my eyes started going fuzzy on me... nowadays I just sleep instead ;o)

7. My step dad, MusicMan, told my mom I didn't need my appendix out, that I didn't need glasses, and that I didn't need crutches (okay, so I faked some injuries to get out of PE too ;o) ... to this day I have no idea how he knew.

8. I dreamed about Fuego on and off for about six years before we were reunited at camp!

Okay... so I tag: Jbewan, Designgirl, Redhot, Captain Technology, Mighty 8-bit, Hetero-S, Some-of-the-time-girlfriend, and Mel-the-Great. Since half of them don't have blogs, they can post in my comments =o)

Sermon of Tuesday, 12 June 2007, John Johnson Enmegahbowh
*********************************************************

Readings: Isaiah 52:7-10, Psalm 129, Luke 6:17-23


Background from Lesser Feasts and Fasts:

John Johnson Enmegahbowh, an Odawa (Ottawa) Indian from Canada, was raised in the Midewiwin traditional healing way of his grandfather and the Christian religion of his mother. He came into the United States as a Methodist missionary in 1832. At one point Enmegahbowh attempted to abandon missionary work and return to Canada, but the boat was turned back by storms on Lake Superior, providing him a vision: “Here Mr. Jonah came before me and said, ‘Ah, my friend Enmegahbowh, I know you. You are a fugitive. You have sinned and disobeyed God. Instead of going to the city of Nineveh, where God sent you to spread his word to the people, you started to go, and then turned aside. You are now on your way to the city of Tarshish….’”

Enmegahbowh invited James Lloyd Breck to Gull Lake, where together they founded St. Columba’s Mission in 1852. The mission was later moved to White Earth, where Enmegahbowh served until his death in 1902. Unwelcome for a time among some Ojibway groups because he warned the community at Fort Ripley about the 1862 uprising, Enmegahbowh was consistent as a man of peace, inspiring the Waubanaquot (Chief White Cloud) mission, which obtained a lasting peace between the Ojibway and the Dakota peoples.

Enmegahbowh (“The One who Stands Before his People”) is the first recognized Native American priest in the Episcopal Church. He was ordained deacon by Bishop Kemper in 1859 and priest by Bishop Whipple in the cathedral at Faribault in 1867. Enmegahbowh helped train many others to serve as deacons throughout northern Minnesota. The powerful tradition of Ojibway hymn singing is a living testimony to their ministry. His understanding of Native tradition enabled him to enculturate Christianity in the language and traditions of the Ojibway. He tirelessly traveled throughout Minnesota and beyond, actively participating in the development of mission strategy and policy for the Episcopal Church.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There is an uncharacteristic bitterness in our readings today that had me searching the lectionary for other readings on which to preach. From the Psalmist’s biting statements against the enemies of Zion to Christ’s bleak blessings for us when people hate us, exclude us, revile us and defame us for being Christians, there isn’t a lot of hope sewn into Enmegahbowh’s readings. But lest I be guilty of the same turning away from Nineveh that Enmegahbowh saw in his vision of Jonah, I decided to seek deeper into our readings for the glimmer of hope that ties us back to the Good News of Christ throughout scripture.

What I found as I pored over and struggled through the themes in our readings was a reminder that scripture teaches us through our own stories, through our own lives, and through the lives of others. Taken out of their contexts and pieced together today, I find that these readings each piece together around the story of Enmegahbowh’s life story from Lesser Feasts and Fasts.

There is an obvious counterbalance to the heaviness of our Psalm and Gospel reading in our Old Testament reading from the Prophet Isaiah… How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’

This opening scripture for today proclaims the joy and anticipation associated with the messenger of peace, who brings good news of God’s salvation to those most desperately needing it. It is Enmegahbowh as he not only brings the Good News of Christ to the natives of the Great Lake’s regions, but brings it through their own native language and traditions

The bitterness voiced in the cry of the oppressed in the Psalm against their enemies who they pray will be cut off and shamed such that even those who pass them on the street will not stop to greet them in the customary blessing is the bitterness between the Ojibway and the people of Fort Ripley, between the Ojibway and the Dakota peoples, and for a time even between the Ojibway and Enmegahbowh himself.

In Luke’s gospel Jesus today challenges our notions of blessing. We may be able to see how the poor might be blessed since all of Christ’s followers are called to bring the kingdom to those such as the poor who so desperately need to experience the abundance of God’s kingdom. We may even be able to see how the hungry and the sorrowful might be blessed since it is only through hunger and sorrow that we can experience the true blessings of being filled and finding deep and lasting joy.

But where is the blessing in being hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed? In Enmegahbowh’s case, it was cause enough for him to resign of his missionary efforts, seeking to return to Canada only to be turned back by the storm and told in a vision to continue in his efforts.

Perhaps Enmegahbowh’s vision provides a link for us through Jonah. It was Jonah’s fear of being hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed that kept him from going to Nineveh. Out of fear and apprehension at being called to go to a place where his reception might at best have been bitter mockery and at worst might have brought his death, Jonah set sail for Tarshish at the far end of the Mediterranean in modern day Spain – as far as he could conceive of going from where God called him to be. When he accepted his calling and went to Nineveh, facing his fears of ill treatment as a messenger of God, his mission and ministry was blessed beyond his imagination.

In Enmegahbowh’s case, his own ministry was eventually also blessed by his perseverance in the face of his unwelcoming audience.

It seems to me that the great reward for us in heaven is that same reward that is for all who come to have faith and an ever deepening relationship with God. The same gift of eternal life with God that Jesus promised to his disciples and followers throughout his ministry in different ways.

It is through Enmegahbowh’s life, that we have a marvelous example of what all of this means for us in our lives.

We too are messengers of God, bringing the Good News of peace, salvation, and the reign of God to those around us. As Christ’s hands and heart in the world, WE are the modern day apostles, saints, and followers that are in charge of bringing God’s kingdom to those around us. We are those with the beautiful feet of the messenger, giving voice to the song of praise Isaiah foretells for all who are brought to peace, redemption, comfort, and salvation.

Yet as Christ warns his disciples, so we are warned that when we challenge the order of this world and of our societies, when we challenge the way people live, when we challenge ignorance, hatred, greed, oppression, and the hoarding of the abundance of God’s kingdom, we will not be thanked for it by the world at large.

When we think of modern day prophets such as Bishop Romero and Martin Luther King Jr., we catch a glimpse of the extremes of Christ’s warning to us that proclaiming the Good News from every mountaintop, hill, and valley will be a perilous journey. Yet we also see examples of lives that have been captured by the Spirit, lifted up and enveloped in God’s grace and the blessings of peace, compassion, love, and mercy that are a foretaste of the great reward of heaven.

We are called this day, as Enmegahbowh was called two centuries ago, to bring the Good News of God boldly to those around us through our lives, through our actions, through our example of reaching out to those around us and living as ambassadors of God’s kingdom – not as enforcers or as gatekeepers of God’s grace, proclaiming damnation for those who don’t believe as we believe, but as servants seeking to know those around us well enough to bring them God’s Good News through their own language and traditions.

God give us the courage to open our hearts to this world, seeking to love and serve those around us without the fear of consequence.

Amen.