The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9B, July 5, 2015; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

O God of love, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

This past week has changed the Episcopal Church. Of course, every week changes the Church because to be alive is to be changed, but sometimes change is more noticeable than others, right? This week the Church’s ideas about and practices of home, heart, and hands got stretched and I saw it happen. This past week I traveled to Salt Lake City to attend four days of the ten-day General Convention of the Episcopal Church. By a blessed coincidence, I arrived on Monday, the day that the House of Bishops prayed and deliberated, and at last voted, to extend the sacrament of holy matrimony to same-sex couples across the whole Episcopal Church in jurisdictions where such marriage is legal, and to extend the blessing rite in those places where same-sex marriage is still not legal; and included a requirement that all bishops, even bishops who disagree or disapprove, make provisions for same-sex couples seeking blessing and marriage. The next day the House of Deputies voted to concur. But it wasn’t just extending same-sex marriage.

Forty years ago, Louie Clay (his last name then was Crew) co-founded Integrity USA, the non-profit organization working within The Episcopal Church for the full inclusion of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies and for equal access to The Episcopal Church’s rites and sacraments. Integrity’s work has been far-reaching. This year, for the first time in forty years, rather than being “unofficial,” the Integrity Eucharist was listed on the official General Convention calendar as a main worship event. This past week the tent got bigger. This past week, “home” in the Episcopal Church grew so much larger than I ever thought possible.

The Church was changed by the grace of a similar prayerful discussion, deliberation and vote in the House of Bishops, which, by the slimmest margin, failed to change the Canon to explicitly extend access to Holy Communion to those who are not baptized. The bishops have generously affirmed in the past that Holy Baptism is the normative path to participation in the Eucharist. (I say generous because by definition, “normative” acknowledges that there are edges, margins, standard deviations!) Of course, I wish that the resolution had passed because our current canon fails to acknowledge the Church’s changing understanding and praxis of evangelism by Eucharist (literally thanksgiving) – often referred to as “open table,” long practiced at Emmanuel Church, Boston, and many other parishes that minister on the margins. But the margins are growing much wider and I’ll tell you that I was so encouraged by the conversation and even by the narrow defeat. I recalled what the great Louie Clay taught me about twenty years ago one time when I was sitting at his feet listening: losing by a slim margin is often better than winning by a slim margin because a narrow defeat energizes the cause! I see that the heart in the Episcopal Church is stretching and I have hope that an “open table” for all is just over the horizon.

Also at General Convention, the Church was changed by resolutions that were passed by wide margins and others that were defeated by wide margins. The Church was changed by thousands and thousands of Episcopalians coming together in leadership – passionate, hard-working, spirited and deeply respectful in debate and disagreement, in work and in worship. The House of Deputies took the lead in adopting a budget that boldly added nearly $3M to mission and evangelism by increasing the draw on church investments, and the Bishops followed their lead. In the House of Deputies, the oldest deputy was 90 and the youngest 17. Nearly half were women and nearly a quarter were people of color. [1] (While that represents an increase, President Gay Jennings noted that there is still considerable room to improve.) Our own Bishop Barbara Harris, first woman bishop in the Anglican Communion was there for her eighteenth consecutive General Convention – fifty-one years of General Conventions! I have a strong hunch that the Church was changed by experiencing all of this in the middle of Salt Lake City, in the shadow of the Temple of the Latter Day Saints. The scenes at the airport of elder missionaries and sister missionaries coming and going were really something – while we differ with their theology, their commitment and organization is impressive, challenging, and inspiring. The Church’s sense of its own hands stretched – that is, hands put to work in spreading justice and peace, hands put to the work of being reconciled and in right-relationship with one another and with the earth. One powerful highlight was the march of 1500 Episcopalians through the streets of Salt Lake City last Sunday morning in the 100° heat in witness against gun violence that included Becky Lightcap’s daughter Megan and my daughter Laura!

In our Gospel reading for today, Mark tells us that Jesus left the place where the hemorrhaging woman and Jairus’ daughter were healed and came to his hometown. I used to assume that Mark meant Nazareth, but this time when I read this story with what comes before and what comes after, it seems clear to me that it’s not Nazareth at all; Jesus and his disciples are along the Sea of Galilee, and Mark has already mentioned in chapter three that Jesus was at home in Capernaum. Jesus had made a new home, a bigger home to accommodate not just his brothers and sisters of his biological family, but his brothers and sisters in the work of reconciliation and right relationship. Jesus expanded the meaning of home, to be “not so much where but when.” [2] Home is when we are aware of the presence of Love, which is one of the names for the Divine.

But of course, home is not just a bed of rose petals; there are thorns! When Jesus began to teach in the gathering, the synagogue, many who heard him were driven out of their minds – “astounded” our English version says, but the sense in Greek is astonishment with a good dose of panic. The word literally translates “driven out” as in driven out of their minds. They wanted to know who he thought he was, what on earth he thought he was doing. They took offense – they were scandalized. Jesus responded with the adage that “prophets are not without honor except in their homeland” and he added for emphasis “and among their own kin and in their own house.” And he was unable to do any miracles except curing a few sick people (I love that). And Jesus wondered at their lack of faith. Notice the contrast. Jesus, not offended or scandalized by their unbelief, just wondered at it – there’s a strong sense of compassion here without judgment.

It’s easy for me to identify with Jesus and assume that the “hometown” that is denounced here is composed of some other group of people. It’s easy to imagine that the hometown group is somewhere else – another time, and certainly another place. It’s harder to acknowledge that I might be part of the hometown; that I belong to the hometown church – a church much more mainstream than on the fringes. Even in this parish we are becoming not so much of an outsider anymore because the Church is changing around us and we are starting to feel at home. What if we are home? What if we don’t take Jesus’ teaching seriously because this is his hometown, we are his kin, we are in his house? We’re pretty comfortable with Jesus. We’re satisfied when we hear his teaching to love God whole-hardheartedly and to treat neighbors with compassion and affection. That’s a familiar and appealing teaching to many people — at least most of the time.

William Countryman suggests that the hometown folks’ response in this story in Mark – the offense taken, at its root has to do with a failure to take themselves seriously. [3] And if this story is our story, and Jesus can do no great deeds of power here (except curing a few sick people), it’s about our failure to take ourselves seriously. It’s about our inability to imagine that God loves us madly and God wants more from us. It’s about our, at best, intermittent ability to believe that God is in each one of us, yearning to shine through hearts that change and grow by breaking open.

You know, the Greek word that we translate into disciple can also be translated “learner.” Jesus’ followers in Mark’s telling were not professionals. They were learners. And Jesus sent them out without certification or equipment. Now Jesus seems to have been a firm believer in the buddy system – he always sent his learners out two by two. He gave them power over polluted spirits and some pretty specific travel instructions that didn’t even permit spending money, or a carry-on bag! Forget about checking luggage! It seems the only thing Jesus prepared the learners for in this story was rejection. But the learners had some success. They went out and proclaimed that all should turn around toward the Love of God (that’s what repent means). They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and provided healing therapy (the Greek verb here is therapew-o). Here is where the outstretched hands part comes in.

You and I are the learners in today’s Gospel reading, commissioned to go cast out demons and provide healing to our hurting world. We practice in here so that we can do it out there. In her book, Searching for Sunday, Rachel Held Evans writes: “Ultimately all are commissioned. All are called. All belong to the holy order of God’s beloved. The hands that pass the peace can pass a meal to the man on the street. The hands that cup together to receive Christ in the bread will extend to receive Christ in the immigrant, the refugee, the lonely, or the sick. Hands plant, and uproot, and cook, and caress. They repair, and rewire, and change diapers, and dress wounds. Hands tickle giggling children and wipe away tears. Hands rub heaving bellies of big, ugly dogs. Hands sanctify all sorts of ordinary things and make them holy. Through touch God gave us the power to injure or to heal, to wage war or to wash feet. Let us not forget the gravity of that. Let us not forget the call.” [4] Let us not forget the call. So get some nourishment today – some bread and wine (or grape juice), some ice-cream! Go with a buddy to extend home and heart and hands, expect miracles, and report back!

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