May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in
your sight,
O God, our strength and our redeemer.
According to a
19th century legend, the Truth and the Lie meet one day. The Lie says to the
Truth: "It's a marvelous day today!” The Truth looks up to the skies and
sighs, for the day was really beautiful. They spend a lot of time together,
ultimately arriving beside a well. The Lie tells the Truth: "The water is
very nice, let's take a bath together!" The Truth, once again suspicious,
tests the water and discovers that it indeed is very nice. They undress and
start bathing. Suddenly, the Lie jumps out of the water, puts on the clothes of
the Truth and runs away. Furious, the
Truth also jumps out of the well and runs everywhere to find the Lie and to get
her clothes back. The World, seeing the Truth naked, turns its gaze away, with
contempt and rage. So, the poor Truth returns to the well and
disappears forever, hiding therein, its shame.
Since then, the Lie travels around the world, dressed up as the Truth,
satisfying the needs of society, because, the World, in any case, has no wish
at all to meet the naked Truth.
Considering these
gospel texts over these past few Sundays have helped me to realize something: That the main thread running through all of
the gospels is our human vulnerability, and our need to engage with it, and how
to engage with it and Jesus’ teaching both in word and example—from his birth
as a human infant to his death on the cross—is maintaining this abiding truth
about being authentically human: We are vulnerable, fragile beings and never
more so than when we are loving God and one another. Gospel after gospel, Jesus
both teaches about and demonstrates for us--how it is done, how to live openly
and vulnerably relying on the power of God to sustain and support us.
Today’s gospel
lesson is a continuation of last week’s gospel. And it’s not just the next
scene—it’s part of the same message.
Last week we heard about how the disciples were arguing about who among
them was the “greatest.” There were
children in the house where they were staying—maybe hanging around, listening
to the grown-ups talk. Jesus reaches for
a child who trustingly allows herself to be scooped up in his arms. Embracing the child, he tells them that being
the “greatest” wasn’t even a category in the Kingdom of God---this child in his
arms is the truest example of how to welcome God and to understand the values
of God’s kingdom. It’s not about being
great, it’s about allowing oneself to be vulnerable, to being open to the truth
that God’s love is for everyone.
I can sort of
hear the disciples trying to defend themselves: “But Jesus, there was this guy
… he was casting out demons. We told him
to stop, because … because he wasn’t with us!”
What isn’t included in this passage is what happened just before this
part of the story: Some of the disciples had unsuccessfully tried to cast a
demon out of boy. So maybe this also a
case of wounded pride and entitlement?
Basically, Jesus says, “Knock it off.”
I have said
before that I believe that there are demonic forces active in this world—those
forces of hurt and hatred that nobody will take responsibility for. Forces that try to hide the truth with lies
and obfuscation. Everyone looks the other way and shakes their head and says,
“That’s awful.” The naked truth is there to be seen, but no one can stand to
look, or see themselves in those “awful” things that happen, even though the
suffering is human suffering caused by human agency. Casting out demons is essential work in
healing this world. It is not easy work.
So this man in
the Gospel reading was unknown to the disciples, a stranger, and they didn’t
trust him—how could he be casting out demons in the name of Jesus? The
disciples knew how special Jesus was, and they felt pretty special being his
followers. John, one of the inner
circle, says that he took it upon himself to put this guy in his place, after
all; it was Peter and Andrew and James and John who were called by Jesus, not this
upstart exorcist no one knew. John made
it clear that only the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples were entitled to heal
in Jesus’ name. We live in a world in
desperate need of healing.
If God is to
heal the conflict in our country and our world, it will take far more than our
intelligence, or teaching, or effort or opinions. Salvation of this world will
come from more than one team, or one set of interpretations. Prayer is
powerful, it changes things and changes
those who pray, and it heals. But it is
not just the prayers of one person that God uses, but of all of us, Muslims,
Buddhists, Jews and Sikhs, people who don’t even know what they believe---all
of God’s creation.
Let’s go back and
remember the part of this reading that was read last week—it’s just before this
week’s reading in the gospel: “Jesus sat down, called the twelve, and said to
them, ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’ Then
he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he
said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and
whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
It is the care and healing of those who are
powerless, neglected and ignored that Jesus cares about. He’s still holding the
child when he says to the disciples, “If any of you put a stumbling block
before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you
if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the
sea.”
This is our very
own gentle Jesus, talking to his friends and followers; not the Pharisees or
his enemies. Being a Christian is not
about being on the winning team, it is about being humble enough to own our own
vulnerability in order to stand with those most at risk of being hurt or
harmed. Jewish philosopher “Martin
Buber said that ‘success is not a name of God.’
Theologian Dorothee
Soelle commenting on Buber’s words that ‘success is not a name of God, writes,
“It could not be said more mystically nor more helplessly. The nothing that wants
to become everything and needs us cannot be named in the categories of power.
To let go of the ego means, among other things, to step away from the coercion
to succeed. It means to ‘go where you
are nothing….’ The ultimate criterion for taking action cannot be success
because that would mean to go on dancing to the tunes of the bosses of this
world.” (Dorothee Soelle, The Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance)
There was a
hearing in the Senate Judiciary Committee on Thursday. The woman who testified,
spoke clearly and courageously. She answered all questions in a straight
forward manner, even when her answers didn’t conveniently demonstrate that she
had all the information perfectly worked out and under her control. She
described, and was questioned in great detail about the most traumatic event in
her life. She was courageous in her vulnerability and truthful.
After her
testimony, no one said that she was not credible or was not telling the truth.
She opened her testimony by saying that she was terrified. She was terrified
because she knew what would happen to a woman who spoke up about being sexually
abused by a powerful and privileged man. She knew about the demons that would
be unleashed … and they were. Christine
Blasey-Ford spoke up in order to reveal the demons, to flush them out in order
to support her own healing, and all the rest of us.
But those demons
find a way to come out in full force—the rage, self-pity and turning blame back
onto the victim or anyone who supported her are what she feared---and what did
happen. This sort of demon emerges when
truth is told about a subject that “power” wants and expects to stay hidden and
silent. I’ve experienced it in the church (though not at St. A's) and it’s not
limited to any one political party.
In fact, it is
not so much the individuals but the nexus of power itself—the demons if you
will—that controls them. Sexual violence against women is an aspect of keeping
some who are powerful empowered and disempowering those who are vulnerable (the
“little ones” about whom Jesus speaks of in this morning’s Gospel—and they
aren’t always children.) Dr. Ford was courageously
vulnerable in her testimony, she spoke the truth to power and by it many are
freed and some healing begun, the ranting of the demons notwithstanding. Casting out demons and being healed takes
tremendous courage, and then cost is very real.
And as the disciples learned from Jesus, the power to cast out demons
does not always come from the sources we expect, or those who support us.
We follow Christ.
And Jesus is not interested in who is in control—he is interested in the
healing of this world and the care and protection of those who are vulnerable,
the “least of these,” he holds close to his heart.
To each and
every one of us he offers this invitation, “If you abide in my word, you are
truly my disciples--and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you
free.”
But almost certainly not without a fight!
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