Readings:
Psalm 19:7-14Mark 9:38-50
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be
acceptable in your sight O God our rock and our sustainer. Amen.
Over coffee a
couple of days ago a friend asked me a very hard question: are we, as Christians, willing to be
inclusive even to the point of death?
And I was silent – perturbed by what that might mean, not wanting to
trivialise by some twee answer, needing time to ponder such a challenging
question.
I’ve had a few
days – it is still a challenge and the answer is still beyond reach but I would
like to share some of the thoughts I have had.
And those thoughts
are guided by the reading from today. For Jesus’ response to the news that a
man is casting out demons in his name but outside of the community of faith is
somewhat puzzling to his followers. The
disciples expect action, a shutting down of this danger and are bemused by his
lack of action – how could he allow this person to use his name and do his work
of healing without their first belonging, their commitment to the way of Jesus
through community. And Jesus reassures
them – the power of the living God is in every situation where good is done and
kindness shared, where Jesus name is invoked and where love is shown. He has, in this one response, broadened the
people’s understanding of what it means to be inclusive.
So we begin by
thinking about how we use commonly use the term inclusive today – and its
supposing antonym exclusive. I certainly
talk about inclusiveness in terms of language especially in worship – how it
can exclude people in unceasing maleness, how the theology and language of some
(older and modern) hymns can sometimes be more harmful than helpful and others
are timeless despite their old fashioned language.
We use the word
when we question the right of the church to exclude people from leadership and
other human rights because of their sexuality, their race, their social
standing. We are an inclusive church –
we welcome all people is the byword for today.
Exclusive means putting boundaries other than faith seeking on those who
can join. Exclusive means thinking we
have the right to say who God calls to faith and community. Exclusive is dangerous.
But so too is
inclusiveness if it means we lose our sense of who and whose we are. If we water down our purpose and knowledge of
God to a point where anything goes – then we lose our integrity as the people
of God, called to be set apart, to live a radical faith and to engage with the
world through the vision of Jesus. In
that sense we are exclusive – and need to be so.
But there is a big
chunk missing from our understand of inclusive and exclusive– those of you who
are ahead of me will realise that the talk so far is all about relationships
within the church – how we behave to others within the community and how we
treat those who come seeking us. Looking
inward in other words. What about
looking outward?
And it is this
conundrum that faces the disciples.
There is someone out there who is using Jesus name and healing people of
demons – and he is not a member of the community. They need to shut him down – he hasn’t gone
through the proper channels.
And Jesus response
points us firmly towards expecting God’s presence to be at work in the world,
outside of our enclaves of faith and definitely outside of our expectation of
measurable returns. He also says that we
are to expect to be fed in that experience.
Some people
struggle with this. They struggle with the idea that they might have to be in
real relationship with those who are outside the faith community. They struggle with engaging in dialogue with
people of other faiths or of no faith, believe that only good works done in a
Christian context can be pleasing to God.
And yet Jesus tells us whoever is not against us is for us – helping to
bring the purpose of God in this world to fruition –to bring healing, justice,
mercy and love to all the world.
Why are some
Christians fearful of engaging in this way with the world? Because I think it
does come mostly down to fear – fear that their faith is not strong enough,
fear that they might be hurt, fear of losing control of how it works, fear of
the unknown – that their Christian exclusiveness is not about being set apart
as God’s people but about protecting what is theirs. No great trust in the immensity of God’s
purpose for us and the world one suspects.
There is the story
of the Christian Bishop in New York who, immediately after the 9/11 attacks
participated in an outdoor service alongside religious leaders from many
different traditions – there were those in his diocese who then had him removed
because they felt that by participating he was recognising the legitimacy of
the prayers of others. Similar to a
recent event in NZ? Fear of contamination versus strength of faith allowing us
to fellowship with those who are not of our way.
So being inclusive
as a church means not just being kind and welcoming to those who walk in that
door there, but also facing outwards, engaging with those who are different, of
whom we might know nothing and expect even less. And sometimes, yes, that might mean us
engaging with those who are potentially a danger to us and our way of life – is
this what it means to be inclusive to the point of death.
We put ourselves
as disciples of Jesus into a story of today.
What has been our
reaction as Christians to the refugee drama that has so connected with people
around the globe? Well it has been mixed.
And for some Christians, fear of what might be has led to an outpouring
of almost hysterical response to keep our doors, our borders closed to keep out
the refugees. You can see responses
online – where Christian brothers and sisters have posted and resposted
comments such as ‘it’s just a plan for Islam to take over the world’ or
‘they’ve got cell phones so they can’t be that desperate’ and the cartoon of a
Trojan horse outside the gates of Europe saying refugees on the front and ISIS
on the back. Some are just plain dumb –
but these types of comment are all over the web, all label themselves proudly
Christian and all are horrifying in their lack of understanding of the
teachings of Jesus – where hospitality and welcome extends to all no matter who
they are and protecting our patch by putting up walls is the absolute
antithesis.
So we don’t get to
say that we will put up a wall instead of a door, we don’t get to label people
in such a way that we don’t then have to care for them, we don’t get to find
reasons why they are not our ‘neighbours’, we don’t get to protect our way of
life by excluding possible dangers but instead we get to ask how does the love
of Christ constrain me and liberate me in this particular situation. Let those
be the online posts we get to read about, not this fear filled isolationism.
How we do need to
take seriously the thought that we need to be inclusive even to death – strong
in our belief as God’s people, firm in our following of Christ’s commandment of
love for God, neighbours and self and enemies whilst engaging in relationship
with others even when it may hold danger and discomfort. For even if there are people among refugees
who are not as deserving, even if there are undesirables among them, even if
some might be our enemies, even if life is less comfortable, even if there is a
change in our lifestyle with the influx of a very different peoples, Jesus says
we are to welcome them, engage with them and be prepared to know God more
deeply within those relationships. True
inclusiveness means the way of costly, self-sacrificial love – to the cross.
So when the
refugees come to this place, when we are asked to engage with those who are
different, let us show that we are Christians by our love. Amen.
Margaret Garland
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