The other reading referenced is Galatians 3:23-29.
The
holy gospel according to Luke (8:26-39)
26Then
Jesus and the disciples arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is
opposite Galilee. 27As Jesus stepped out on land, a man of the city
who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not
live in a house but in the tombs.
28When
he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice,
“What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do
not torment me”— 29for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to
come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard
and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven
by the demon into the wilds.)
30Jesus
then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had
entered him. 31The demons begged him not to order them to go back
into the abyss.
32Now
there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged
Jesus to let them enter these. So Jesus gave them permission. 33Then
the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down
the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
34When
the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and
in the country. 35Then people came out to see what had happened, and
when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone
sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were
afraid. 36Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been
possessed by demons had been healed.
37Then
all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave
them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and
returned. 38The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he
might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, 39“Return to
your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So the man went away,
proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.
The
gospel of the Lord.
-----
This
last week has been awful. It is a
hard week to be me and to preach.
This sermon is so hard and so complicated.
47
years ago this month transgender women of color protested brutality and attacks
on who they were in a gay bar called Stonewall and from that protest, a
movement grew so that throughout the country and the world parades and marches
are celebrating the lives and worth of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer,
intersex, asexual, pansexual, and Two Spirit people.
Last
Sunday a man with weapons in his car was stopped before he could arrive at and
attack the Los Angeles Pride Parade.
The night before, last
Saturday during the night LGBTQ+ Latinxs were targeted and killed in one of few
spaces that are supposed to be truly safe. Bars and clubs like Pulse in Orlando are sanctuary for LGBTQ+
communities and that sanctuary was defiled as bullets rained down on beloved
children of God. Throughout the
week, we have continued to hear of threats of violence and graffiti directed
toward LGBTQ+ people.
This
sermon is hard because in light of all of this, I don’t know who is who in
today’s gospel. It would be easy
to preach on Galatians and proclaim us all united in Christ, that our
differences aren’t as important. But
it’s not true. Our differences are
important. Our diversity
matters. God cherishes our
differences. And difference
matters because it is precisely the “difference” of being LGBTQ+; of being
Latinx, that was targeted last week at Pulse in Orlando and that has been
targeted over 200 times in the last six months with anti-LGBTQ+ legislation
throughout this country.
But
who in our gospel is the Gerasene man, possessed by so many demons that they
are called “Legion”? The one the
rest of the community has chained up and left—literally as though he were
already dead to them—in the tombs?
Are the demons the evil? Or is it the chains—the exile imposed?
Chains
of division and demonization, of othering,
of
claims about splinters in their eye, not seeing the planks in our own.
Chains
of silencing and refusing for so long
to
name homophobia, transphobia, and racism as sins.
Chains
of blame—
to
blame Muslims for this act of terror that is decidedly “American,”
bred
by fundamentalist faiths and fearful and hateful rhetoric and policies,
not
by Islam.
Or
are we, the church, the one possessed by the demons of racism, homophobia,
transphobia, and islamophobia? Are we the ones who are chained up, living in
death possessed by these demons we don’t know how to banish?
Are
we the community, terrified that Jesus has exposed our exclusion, the
brokenness of a community that casts out those we don’t understand, those we
are afraid of? Are LGBTQ+ communities that community? Afraid of or rejecting the church that could tear us apart,
in its possession by demons that lead not to life but to death?
I
honestly don’t know who is who.
Maybe because I am both. I
am this church that struggles with our legacy of racism, homophobia,
transphobia, sexism, islamophobia and so many other systems of discrimination. And
I am queer.
During
my second year in seminary, in 2011, a group of ELCA bishops visited our
seminary, as different ones do each seminary each year.
During
their visit, when asked how they would support women, LGBTQ+ people, and people
of color as new pastors in their synods,
the
bishops were so bound in chains from fear
that
they had no words of comfort, support, or encouragement for us—
they
could only defend a need to “protect” congregations
from
queer people like me.
I
was devastated. We were devastated.
That
weekend, a group of us went to SideTrack, a gay bar in boystown in Chicago, for
Show Tunes night. It was there
that I found sanctuary. It was
there that my whole being was affirmed.
It was there that I was supported as a queer person. Last week that sanctuary was attacked.
So,
I don’t know who we are or where we fit in
this story, except that Jesus shows up anyway. Jesus comes to Gerasene on purpose. Jesus meets the one possessed by
demons. Jesus goes to the one left
out, rejected, sent to live in the place of the dead.
Jesus
was at Pulse last week, telling people to leave and run and then staying with
those who could not leave, holding them in his arms, crying with them, being
crucified again and again and again.
Jesus
was at Mother Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston last
year. Sitting in Bible study and
sending people running when shots rang out, and then staying with those who
could not leave, holding them in his arms, crying with them, being crucified
again and again and again.
And
Jesus is with those who brave the Rio Grande, the Straights of Florida, and the
Sonoran Desert of Arizona for a better life, hope, a chance to live. Jesus is swimming and walking with them,
urging them to safety, and then staying with those who can go no farther,
holding them in his arms, crying with them, being crucified again and again and
again.
Jesus
shows up in those places where people and communities, like the man from
Gerasene, are bound by chains and where we bind each other with chains. Where we claim demon possession and
where we are possessed. Jesus
shows up and exposes the injustice and names the evil.
And
Jesus begins the scary process of healing, because the whole community is
broken when one person is bound by chains,
when
one person is sent away,
when
one person does not belong.
We
are all broken.
And
yet Jesus comes to our brokenness and recognizes us.
Jesus
claims us as beloved and as we work to follow Jesus,
Jesus
sends us to Proclaim the healing and wholeness,
to
glorify God even in our new and scary reality.
Jesus
breaks the chains that bind the Gerasene man possessed by demons
and
the chains that bind us.
Jesus
shows up at gay bars and Bible studies;
in
deserts and rivers;
in
bread broken and parades marched;
with
rainbows and love and hope for a new way
and
a new world where all live,
claimed
as family.
Because
Jesus doesn’t leave anyone beyond hope.
Jesus
doesn’t leave anyone for dead. Ever.
Thanks
be to God.
No comments:
Post a Comment