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I want to talk tonight about the ways that Jesus appears to us. It was a
bit tempting for me to get overly involved in the theology of these stories.
I’ve just finished, (well, almost finished,) my last 3 big essays of this
term. One was on the empty tomb event. One was on Paul’s sexual ethics,
and one was on the Church and homosexuality. So I don’t exactly have a
shortage of big concepts going around in my head.
But, and I know you’ll be really relieved to hear this, I decided I could
share the message of these readings much better, if I just retold the
stories. Story telling can be so much more powerful than intellectual
analysis, and such a better use of time, sometimes! I don’t mean to change
the stories, but to tell them like they are right now.
At first I struggled to think what stories I knew at all, that weren’t
personal. And then I wondered what stories were worth telling that weren’t
personal. And then I wondered what personal stories I was willing to tell.
Well, most of you know me pretty well, so I suppose you know most of my
dirty laundry already!
So, think back to the John reading. Think back to a group of people who
felt pretty far from God. And that makes me think back to a time when, not
for the first time, most of my family would have nothing to do with me. I
was struggling with questions about my own gender, and largely through going
through that difficult process, I’d begun to face real emotional distress.
Not because of my gender confusion, but because of the legacy my dad had
left behind in me from years of physical violence.
Me and my mum used to go out from time to time and have long walks. We’d
talk, and my mum and me think in really pretty much the same way, so we’d
often have some pretty amazing conversations. I had always thought that
maybe I was just making a big deal over nothing. After all we were a
Christian family. And what was the line between discipline and abuse? That
line was blurry - I think that was maybe the whole problem.
And we got to talking about how I needed counselling, although I think mum
meant because of my gender dysphoria. And I said that what I was going
through was a family problem, not just a “me problem”. And she agreed, and
we thought nothing more of it.
We had put our little fishing boats out, but it was stormy, and we “knew” we
wouldn’t catch anything.
Only, along came Jesus...
The next time I met up with my mum, she had some rather shocking news. Dad
agreed. It was a family problem. We should go for family therapy. Well, I
have to say I nearly threw up! And the idea was clearly appalling my mum
too. But how could we back out now? After all, it had been me who said
things had to be dealt with in a family context. But I’d only said ‘cos I
thought it wouldn’t ever happen! And Mum’d only told dad cos she thought
the same.
But here was Jesus saying - throw your nets over the other side.
So we did. There’s 6 in my family, and at times 5 of us actually made it
into that counselling room, where miraculously, we found a therapist who my
parents respected as a Christian - which is quite an achievement, let me
tell you!.... and didn’t view my sexuality as being anything other than part
of who I am, and who I was created to be.
We went from a place where my dad could only see me as a monster, a thing so
stressful he couldn't face me, to him wanting to sort out the family dynamic
above any thought of my miraculous “healing”.
We cast our nets out over the other side of the boat, and, much to our
astonishment, our nets came back into the boat full. Jesus appeared to us
and, with all those fish we brought in, brought us together to eat. And I
suppose, just the same as the disciples, we didn’t dare question it. Each
of us, in our own way, knew what had spoken to us.
Jesus reveals himself to us, so often, in the ways we least expect. In my
family we still certainly have our problems. We still have huge things to
work through and beyond. But we share communion together. I still have the
opportunity to be a voice to them they wouldn’t hear otherwise. I have the
opportunity to be the voice of Jesus to them, when it comes to these issues
so personal to me.
And we all have the opportunity to be that voice. We have the opportunity
to be the voice of Jesus in the world. I would go further. I think we have
a responsibility to be the voice of Jesus in the world. We have a truly
unique, and revolutionary message, and a voice.
There are a lot of Christians who breathe threats and murder against us,
just like Paul did to the earliest Christians. They go through the Church,
and through the Bible, and they find ways to justify our persecution.
But what if, on their journey, our voices come to them and ask - simply, and
quietly, yet shockingly and life transforming in its power - “why do you
persecute me?”
And maybe they will ask God - Who are these people who worship in your
name, yet live in ways I find impossible to accept? These people whose very
existence makes it clear that I am the “better Christian”, the “truer
disciple”?
And maybe the reply will come, because it is through us that God is being
revealed - “I am Jesus, who you are persecuting. Get up now, and enter
their Church, their communities”.
And, perhaps those around them will be speechless, confused - knowing
something significant is going on, but unable to fathom what that might be.
And those who have heard will be blinded at first. And they will have to be
led into our midst. And for 3 days, or maybe much more, they won’t see, and
they won’t be able to receive.
But perhaps there will be some among us who will be able to say - here I am
Lord, when we’re called. And perhaps God will call us to go to the street
called Straight (isn’t that funny?!), to the house of one we thought a
traitor, and look for those who have persecuted us. And maybe they’ll be
praying, so torn up with the idea that we might not be their enemy after
all, knowing in their hearts that their ministry is to be along side us.
And maybe, even when we answer that call, we will be scared. Odds are we
will be, I’d have thought! And we’ll say to God - “look at the damage these
people have done. Look at the hurt they have inflicted. Look at those who
have become ill, because their Church never gave them the support to learn
to know how to protect themselves or respect themselves. Look at all those
who have died alone because their parents thought they were unlovable. Look
at all those whose mental health has suffered, and all those who have been
lonely and tired and full of despair. All because these people said we
could not be Your children. And here they are again, with the authority of
their Churches and their moral majorities, looking to hurt us some more!
But maybe God will say to us, just as to Ananias - “go. These folk are my
instrument too. And I have chosen them to bring my name to those who have
not heard it, and to those who make the decisions of your nations, and to
you too. I will show them, and they will know what it is to suffer for the
sake of my name”.
So maybe we’ll go to that street called Straight, and we’ll enter that house
with trepidation. And we’ll embrace those sisters and brothers, and give
them their sight back. Maybe then the scales will fall from their eyes, and
they will be able so see again.
And perhaps then they can be baptised. Not in the way of water and
ceremony, but baptised into a new love. A love for all, and a love that is
free from judgement, free from fear, free most of all from hate.
And, baptised into this same love, maybe we can all share the communion of
food and fellowship together, and grow stronger, together.
And then, once those folk have learned with us, and grown strong again, with
us, they will go back into their Churches, and their Governments, and their
communities and say - these queer people we though were so sinful, are the
children of God.
What it doesn’t tell you in Acts, is that Paul spent around 18 years in
between his Damascus Road experience and his ministry. Scholars know this
from the dating of his letters, some of which didn’t make it into the Bible,
and other documents from the time. Now 18 years is not just -Damascus Road,
oh, Jesus is Lord! 18 years is study, soul searching, questioning,
struggling. By the time Paul wrote his epistles, his views had developed
hugely from those he would have held as a Pharisee.
So, when we allow ourselves to be the way Jesus appears to our persecutors,
we shouldn’t be fooling ourselves with any thoughts of quick fix! We’ll
have to step into the shoes of Ananias, walk over to that street called
Straight, and find the humility to embrace the ones who persecute us.
Some of us are better at that sort of humility than others. I for one, am
rubbish. When someone hurts me, I don’t even want to see them, never mind
reach out to them. I guess that’s part of why I’m in this Church, not
Holyrood Abbey Church, where I grew up. Just like Paul, they believe they
are doing the work of God. Just like Paul they think we are corrupting
God’s word and doing real damage to the world and to ourselves.
And that is why Jesus had to give Paul an experience he just could not walk
away from. Those who persecute us need to see in their own lives, the voice
of Jesus, they need to experience Jesus, through us. In their own language.
They need to understand that it is the voice of Jesus who is asking - why
are you persecuting me? If they don’t make that connection, they will not
hear.
If we are to be one of the ways Jesus appears to the world, well, I think
that’s both really exciting, and really scary. It’s a huge responsibility.
But it’s one of those things where, I think, we just have to answer the
call. We just have to be like - okay. And just do it. Go to the house of
the one who persecutes us. And be community. And share community.
I guess that’s really the point of having an open communion. We have to
really mean it! We have to welcome every single person to that table,
whether they persecute us or not. Whether they call God by the same name,
or not. Whether they think they like us or not. If we are celebrating an
open communion, we are celebrating an open communion. We are not just
sharing gluten free bread and non alcoholic wine. We are not just
remembering the last supper of Jesus and the disciples. We are not just
remembering the ultimate sacrifice of Christ on the cross. We are not just
accepting forgiveness and we are not just being renewed with Christ’s life
giving touch. We are sharing those basic components of human relation. We
are sharing fellowship - sharing the experience of being with those around
us. And we are sharing nourishment - another absolute basic.
I think one of the best ways we share communion is when we have suppers
together. When we stand or sit around chatting and eating. It’s then that
we really get to know each other. Then that we have the opportunity to
reach out to others. Then that we create community. It is then that we can
bring friends, or family, and have them share in our community in a way that
might feel a little bit less uncomfortable to them - how judgemental can you
be with a mouth full of scone?!
It’s then that they get a chance to see that we’re really human beings! And
that we’re human beings who, even though the Church has turned its back on
us, (in some quarters at least,) human beings who have chosen to keep doing
Church. Gay and lesbian and bisexual and transgendered, transsexual,
straight, with families, without families, with friends, with partners, or
lovers, people that are queer in the myriad ways it is possible to be - here
we are choosing to do Church, to start from scratch and relearn what that
could possibly mean to us.
That is a message in itself. That is the voice of Jesus right there. How
exciting to see the voice of Jesus all around! How exciting to be the voice
of Jesus in the world! How exciting to be doing it and seeing it together.
And how wonderful. How glorious a joy I know, through seeing and being with
all of you.
Jesus is going to keep appearing to us in the ways we least expect. Just
like my dysfunctional family going into therapy, sometimes he’ll appear to
us in ways we don’t even think we want him to! Like the disciples, we’ll
be confused, and sometimes we’ll be resentful or reluctant.
And, like how it was for Paul, sometimes the voice of Jesus will come
contrary to what we though God was saying. That's why, when Jesus speaks
through us, it might sound really contrary to other voices. We must never
be arrogant though. We can be wrong. We can be led by ego. We can be
affected by hurt and anger. But never the less, God will speak. God keeps
speaking. Jesus came to the world in the way the Jews least expected. And
Jesus speaks through the people least likely, in many minds, to be spoken
through. Jesus was the friend of the tax collector. And he was the friend
of the prostitute, the friend of the pitcher carrier, the friend of the Jew,
and the Roman.
So think about the ways Jesus has appeared to you already in your life.
Think about the ways you have been challenged and surprised and amazed.
Think about all the parallels there already are between your own experiences
and the stories of the Bible. These stories aren’t alien to us. They’re
not so far removed, not so difficult to relate to!
And think about what it means to be Jesus’ voice in the world. What is it
we’re saying? And how do we come across when we’re saying it? We shouldn’t
ever try to be anything other than what we are - warts and all. But we
don’t need to let our own, understandable, defensiveness be part of that.
We are created beings. We are God’s chosen, created people. We are Jesus’
voice in the world, and we are part of the Body of Christ. Our voice is God
given, and our voice is true. Our voice is a voice of liberation, and a
voice of solidarity.
But is must also be a voice of calm. Where we have been misunderstood, we
must try to understand. Where we have been hurt, we must seek to heal.
Where we have been attacked we must rebuild. And where we have been
excluded we must include. I love being who I am, and I love knowing that
God made me this way on purpose. Sometimes I can’t think why, and other
times I feel sure there must be a mistake. I mean really, did God want this
belly hanging over my belt? And really, did God create me to make quite so
many mistakes with my life, or, particularly, with my finances? But at the
end of the day, I am a voice. I am a voice with something to say that
matters, and a voice within this larger voice of ours, this voice that says
- here we are - myriad queer, children of God, speaking proudly, and not in
defiance, but in love!
That’s a voice of Jesus, if ever there was one! Let’s keep speaking, and do
it with confidence, because God gives us our words, however faltering they
may seem to be.
Will you pray with me?
Lord, thank you for your ways. Thank you for how you come to us, in ways
that surprise us, and confuse us and challenge us. Thank you that we need
not expect a formula. Thank you that we need not have a text book. Thank
you that your ways are rarely our ways. And Thank you for the unique space
you’ve made for each one of us in your world. And Lord, please let us feel
you close when our voices seem to go unheard. Please, give us strength when
our voices are shunned or mocked. Because Lord, we know our voice is of
you, and that our voice is saying what it ought to, just as long as we keep
our focus on you.
Father and Mother God, please bind us together as a community, a whole made
up of some really different parts. And let our voice keep on ringing out,
no matter how loud the opposition. And let our voice be without anger, and
without fear. Lord God, these things we pray,
Amen
This sermon was delivered by Jake Tatton at MCC Edinburgh on Sunday 25th April 2004.
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