Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (21B), September 30, 2018; The Rev. Susan Ackley
James 5:13-20 Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise.
Mark 9:38-50 John said to him, ‘Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.’
[I hold up one of the Hamsas.]
I know some of you know what this is and why it’s here, but I want to fill the rest of you in.
It’s a Hamsa, a symbol precious to many Jews and Muslims and middle-eastern Christians.
Among Jews it’s called the Hand of Miriam, among Muslims the Hand of Fatima (the Prophet’s favorite daughter), and for Christians, it’s the Hand of Mary.
The rector of Emmanuel, Pam Werntz, chose the Hamsa as a symbol for her sabbatical.
The thing about clergy sabbaticals is that she didn’t choose it only as a symbol she wanted to explore into while she was away, but something for you all and me to consider during these three months.
Let’s look at it — It’s obviously based on a human hand, but stylized.
An open hand can represent a lot of things—Stay away!—and one of the ancient functions of the hamsa was to ward off the evil eye.
But there are other qualities that the open hand represents and Pam chose five for her and us to focus on: generosity, well-being, blessing, strength, and replenishment.
Before this endless week had even begun, I had decided to look at today’s Gospel through the lens of one particular hamsa trait, generosity.
Generosity’s a nice sort of thing, I thought, and I can give some examples — easy sermon! — and then the week fell apart.
From Thursday on (and actually for a long time before that) generosity has been wholly absent from our civic life except for a few brave sparks. Suddenly I stopped thinking of generosity as “a nice sort of thing” and saw it as subversive.
What does the Gospel today look like through the lens of subversive generosity?
The setting: They’re in Jesus’ house in Capernaum in northern Israel where Jesus is giving them a crash course in discipleship. This is the third week of Jesus’ lessons to them and it’s beginning to feel as if Jesus has his hand perpetually clapped to his forehead in frustration: “Have you taken in anything I’ve said or done over these past three years?”
John, one of the people closest to Jesus, has just remarked to him: “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”
In today’s marketing terms, John is worrying about safeguarding Jesus’ brand. How can they maintain control of it if others are freely using Jesus’ name? John is all set to divide the world into “we” (Jesus’ real followers, like him) and “they” (everybody else).
The question sets Jesus off. He hears it as yet another example of his followers not getting it, totally missing the point of the very teaching they’re trying to hold onto as ‘theirs.’
Because in fact the man in question has been performing acts of mercy, healing people possessed by demons, a terrible scourge at the time, probably a way of describing in most cases manifestations of mental illness exacerbated by living in oppression and poverty.
This is Jesus’ objection: whether or not the exorcist is part of Jesus’ “company” or not, he is doing good work, Kingdom of God work. Any action that results in healing or justice (which is itself the healing of systemic sickness) is part of what Jesus’ whole ministry is for, whether or not it’s done by “official” followers of Jesus.
John wants to set up condition for membership, a firm boundary around their group, but Jesus refuses. The important thing, Jesus is saying, is not personal or group identity (‘us” vs “them”) but the endless hard work of mercy and justice. And that requires a spirit of collaboration and mutual respect. A realization that gifts need to be pooled. In other words, a spirit of mutual generosity.
So let’s imagine: What if the spirit of generosity had infiltrated the hearing room at the Senate Office building on Thursday—Good Lord, is it only four days ago?
What if the senators had dropped their rhetoric of blame and demand? What if there had been an honest discussion of the power differential in the room? What if all the participants had generously acknowledged the unspeakable pain both accuser and accused and certainly their families have been enduring? What if they had let go their identities as Republicans and Democrats and humbly tried to do the work of justice and mercy?
If the spirit of generosity had been set free to subvert business usual, I for one would have been able to watch the hearing feeling deep sympathy for both accuser and accused, but I would not have felt so sick at heart.
You might be wondering, though, about the rest of the Gospel? Where is generosity in Jesus’ troubling words to his followers: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off, it is better to enter life maimed than to have two hands and go to hell, to the unquenchable fire,”and so on with feet and eyes.
How can this possibly be looked at through the lens of generosity? Generosity is more positive. When I call someone a “generous person,” I don’t think of someone raising an ax to cut off his own hand! I think of joy and freedom in caring for others.
I think — well, I think about my former bishop, Gene Robinson.
On his Episcopal visits to churches, Gene always asked congregation and clergy, “What are you willing to give for the sake of the Gospel?”
As a priest in the diocese, I know a little about what Gene himself had been willing to give. I remember being in a clergy meeting with him soon after his election. He showed us his bulletproof vest, which I know he continued to wear long after he was consecrated. At the meeting he also introduced us to two members of his security detail. These guys stayed on guard for him, again long into his episcopacy.
Bp. Robinson’s question, “What are you willing to give for the sake of the gospel?” speaks to another way generosity is subversive in our self-orienting and self- augmenting society. Generosity often involves self-sacrifice and, if not straight out pain, then definitely a pinch.
Gene generously gave up his privacy and safety for the sake of something larger, because he believed that God was calling him to be a living symbol of the fact that his sexual orientation was a divine gift and that, like all divine gifts, it could and should be honored by the church.
Despite the risks, I often saw joy bubbling through his time with us, the joy of giving himself for this work, despite the real sacrifices he made in order to do it. A special kind of joy, that comes when we sacrifice something important to us in order to bring the kingdom of God a little closer through an act of subversive generosity
This morning I want to acknowledge two generous people who have enriched the life of Emmanuel Church.
The musicians of Emmanuel Music and many in the congregation are mourning the death of Don Wilkinson who sang for many years as a member of the choir. His voice was described to me as a glorious bass-baritone, and Don himself as possessing — and I’d love to know more about this!—an “effervescent and mischievous spirit.” May he Rest In Peace.
Today we’re also honoring the ministry of Stephen Babcock, who for many years has served as the faithful usher at Emmanuel Church. He may sometimes have had other places he wanted to be on Sunday mornings, but pretty much always he has generously put it aside and faithfully taken his place in the doorway with his armload of service bulletins. My husband and I have known him and his wife Janice for years as fellow puppeteers, and it is a special gift now to work with him during my time at Emmanuel.