"LGBTQ Equality: Creating Change Conference" by One Voice Texas, on flickr |
Numbers 11:24-29
So Moses went out and told the people the words of the Lord; and he gathered seventy elders of the people, and placed them all around the tent. Then the Lord came down in the cloud and spoke to him, and took some of the spirit that was on him and put it on the seventy elders; and when the spirit rested upon them, they prophesied. But they did not do so again. Two men remained in the camp, one named Eldad, and the other named Medad, and the spirit rested on them; they were among those registered, but they had not gone out to the tent, and so they prophesied in the camp. And a young man ran and told Moses, “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp.” And Joshua son of Nun, the assistant of Moses, one of his chosen men, said, “My lord Moses, stop them!” But Moses said to him, “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord‘s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!”
Mark 9:38-50
John said to [Jesus,] “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.
“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. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched. For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”
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It was during the 2007 Churchwide Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America that I first encountered the Shower of Stoles exhibit.
The otherwise boring walls and ugly carpet of a Chicago Hyatt ballroom where we worshiped together were made beautiful by racks and racks of clergy stoles on display, all around the room. These stoles were a fantastic array of colors and styles, sizes and shapes, patterns and textures. There were hundreds of them. And on the back of each, there was a small card with a story attached.
Each stole in this exhibit belongs to a member of the clergy or worker in the church who, because of their sexual orientation, has been denied their position, removed from their office, or works in silence and fear of being found out.
As I moved from stole to stole, reading people’s stories of call, and reading the devastation of being denied that sense of call, I thought about my own journey through seminary and candidacy. For me, my sense of call had developed slowly and quietly, feebly, even. And here I was, reading story after story of people who knew, deeply, loudly, strongly, that they had felt God’s Spirit moving in them. And somehow, I was going to be the one moving easily through the ordination process.
Questions flooded my head and heart: "If all of these people have so clearly heard God's call to ministry, who are we to tell them 'no?' Who are we to tell them that they must be mistaken, that they hadn't actually heard the voice of the Spirit? Does the church really need my voice, or how much moreso does the church need the service of these brothers and sisters, whose sense of call is so clear, so strong, so passionate?”
And here’s the thing. All of these thoughts and questions were brand new to me. Mind you, I already had graduated with my M.Div, had already spent an extra year at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago; I was two-thirds of the way through the ordination process! And all of this was just occurring to me? It took me that long to realize that it was, at best, absurd, and at worst, downright sinful to put barriers and stumbling blocks in front of faithful people seeking to serve Christ and dedicate their lives to discipleship?
Friends, even pastors and pastors-in-training have their "aha" moments.
We are now in 2015. Much has changed. Policies and polities have shifted, and many expressions of Christianity continue to widen the welcome. But we still face the same struggle that the disciples faced in today's gospel, that Joshua faced in today's first reading: the struggle with our temptation to put order and boundaries around the movement of God’s Spirit.
From the faith of the Israelites through the prophets and judges, from the life of Jesus through the letters of Paul, our narrative of faith is a decidedly counter-cultural narrative, filled with concern for the poor, with values of humility and compassion, with an emphasis on the community rather than on the individual, with a savior who modeled a way of self-giving instead of self-righteousness.
And anytime you are trying to be something counter-cultural, you have to try to define your values; to clarify our mission. That’s fine and normal. The danger is when we start turning definitions into barriers and clarifications into stumbling blocks.
Earlier in this chapter in Mark, the disciples, Jesus’ closest friends and followers, had failed to cast out a spirit. And now, today, they watch someone outside of them succeeding at casting out a demon in Jesus name, succeeding at the very thing they were unable to do. I suspect that the disciples were feeling jealous and insecure, fearful and frustrated. And so they insist that doing the work of Christ means first following the rules of the insiders.
John says, “Jesus, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, but stopped him because he wasn’t following us.” Huh. We stopped him. Because. He. Wasn’t. Following. Us. I think that when we say it slowly like that, we realize just how ridiculous it sounds. But we also realize just how often we say the same things.
- That person can’t possibly serve on church council. They just joined the church six months ago.
- I couldn’t lead an Adult Forum or a Bible study; I don’t have an advanced degree.
- I’m glad we have acolytes, but can’t we make a rule that they have to wear dress shoes when they serve?
- That’s a great idea for a ministry project to serve the community; let’s put it on hold until the next budget cycle, though, to make sure that it fits our financial priorities.
- There’s no way that a person who claims to be a Christian could come to any other conclusion about the political and societal issues that matter to me.
I think about a church that I attended where a local pharmacist, who everyone knew as a man, came out as transgender and started attending worship as female. I remember how the congregation celebrated her and welcomed her…until she asked to be put on the list of lectors and assisting ministers. All of the sudden, people got uncomfortable, started making excuses, starting backpedaling their support and welcome. Not because they were bad people, but because this was a new challenge to them - it was stretching their idea of leadership in the church.
Stretching is uncomfortable. Kicking apart stumbling blocks is even more uncomfortable. But opening the door to discipleship to all people is part of our calling. Inviting all to share in ministry. Jesus, so aware of the real and pressing political and theological conflict that would eventually take his life, looks at his disciples woefully, and says, “Do not stop anyone from doing ministry in my name. Whoever is not against us is for us. Don’t create enemies where they don’t exist. God knows there are enough real threats out there without us having to invent them.” And then in a series of gruesome hyperboles, Christ charges us with cutting off and plucking out and destroying anything that bars people from joining his ministry.
Because according to Jesus, what does it take to do the work of Christ? Simple. Doing the work of Christ. Let me repeat that. What does it take to do the work of Christ? Doing the work of Christ. No boundaries to entry. No stumbling blocks. No prerequisites. Who can serve Christ? Anyone. Who can serve the world in Christ’s name? Anyone. What makes you qualified to do these things? Faith, the Spirit, the God-given desire to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.
James tells us today that the practical and essential work of the Christian community is to pray, to sing, to anoint, to confess, to be honest with one another about our brokenness, and to do whatever we need to do to bring people into the community…or back into the community. These are the works that show our faithfulness. These are the works that we are called to celebrate whenever and wherever they happen; whether within the provisions of our church constitution or out in the wild in the world; whether they happen via people we like and respect or via loud-mouthed politicians that we can’t stand.
The truth is that we need the wide and diverse witness of all who act in the name of Christ, because the burden would be too heavy for us to shoulder by ourselves. Poor Moses, out there in the wilderness with an angsty and hungry group of Israelites, is at his wits end, and cries out to God, and says “Did I conceive this people? Why am I to bear their burdens alone?” And what does God do? God gives Moses seventy elders to help him out, to share the burden. And whether they prophesy in the camp our out of the camp, Moses recognizes them as filled with God’s Spirit, and celebrates the work of the Spirit wherever it may yet show up. Can we believe that God has given to us such a community of ministry as well - filled with the Spirit of God, whether in the tent or in the camp or in the wilderness, whether Lutheran or not, whether like us or different from us?
Let us all today recommit ourselves to following Christ and, with gratitude, encourage all who seek to do the same. Let us tear down the boundaries and stumbling blocks we put in front of those who want to join in this work of ministry. Let us not waste energy on figuring out who is in or out, and instead rededicate ourselves to the work of prayer and praise, confession, healing, and reconciliation - the very tasks Christ has called us to do, the very tasks God empowers us to do in our baptisms.
For work of Christ is the work of Christ is the work of Christ. Thanks be to God.
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