2016 1 17

2nd Sunday After Epiphany

The Rev. Margaret Doyle

Is 62: 1-5; Psalm 36: 5-10; 1 Corinthians 12: 1-11; John 2: 1-11

I want to begin by telling you a story. A dear friend of mine, active in her church, decided to further her commitment by agreeing to a series of mission trips to a small, sub-Saharan village in Africa. A woman of great passion and faithfulness, she was prepared to sacrifice comfort in order to share the life in the village, and through sharing of life and experience, discover how best to minister. What she was not prepared for was that in order to make this trip, she had to climb back into a closet from which she was released many, many years before. In this particular area of the world, any reference that would cause her to reveal her identity as a lesbian celibate would most likely result in not only arrest and torture, if not death, for her, but harm for her fellow missionaries as well.

Last year, I was privileged to attend the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, and was present at that awesome moment when the vote for marriage equality was overwhelmingly passed. I was asked by someone if this was premature…anyone who had been there, I think, would have felt the presence of the Spirit doing something unusual and momentous in the people of God. God’s time, not ours.

In other parts of our world, our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters saw a glimmer of hope that our actions might lead to their own religious leaders ceasing to support tacitly or overtly actions of their governments which imposed imprisonment, torture, and death for them and their friends. A bit of hope was held out that they, too, might be recognized in their own churches as loved children of God, not a scourge to be eradicated.

Our God, through prophets and teachers, tells us that justice and mercy are what are necessary. What is justice in God’s world? It means that all those who are oppressed must be freed, the poor must be lifted up, the cast-offs of the world must be gathered up and brought to the heart of God. The God speaking through Isaiah desires such liberation.

Although Liberation Theology is not the commonplace term it was during my college days, its influence brought to the fore the Gospel imperative to end oppression and establish justice so that those who would exploit those on the margins would lose the power to do so.

“Poet and feminist activist Audre Lorde once proclaimed that our silence will not save us. Lorde spent her life calling marginalized people, especially lesbians, from the corners and closets to speak the truth.”

This week, the Primates, the heads of churches in the Anglican Communion came together for prayer, retreat, and dialog. Bishop Marray spoke to us about this last week, and asked us to pray. I hope you are still praying. There have been some confusing posts about this meeting, and some inaccurate language. In brief, it appears that in order to appease some, without losing any, there have been some restrictions suggested for the Episcopal Church’s participation for the next 3 years. This is due to the objection of some over our radical inclusion of our GLBT brothers and sisters. What the Episcopal Church was called to do was respond to the call of Jesus. There are those in the Anglican Communion who want to address the splinter in our eye, so to speak, without pulling the plank out of their own.

This is a crucial time for us. As was done in the time of ordination of black ministers, and the time of full inclusion of women in the church, the Episcopal Church stands as a beacon for those who hope that the church will shine a light on them and help the world see them as whole, created, gifted people of God. Our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, is a very wise man. His heart is torn with what this means for the gay and lesbian brethren in those countries and dioceses where imprisonment, torture, and death are the accepted “punishment” for being who you are gifted to be by God. How sad. Across the globe, our brothers and sisters feel cast out.

The nature of God is to renew and restore his people. We are his instruments.

Paul’s letter points out that the gifts of the Spirit are poured out upon us, yet none is to be excluded because the manifestation of the Spirit varies from person to person. This Spirit is part of all of us, and cannot be limited by human jealousies or fears. All we do, who we are, comes from God. We bear responsibility that what we do in the name of God builds up, heals, gathers in, rather than ostracizes. The issues we struggle with as church, unity and diversity, must not be mired in errant beliefs that we must all be the same, have the same characteristics. Nor can we use our “gifts” to become sources for a “hierarchy of holiness.” The gifts of each one are to bring us together and be used for the common good.

This Jesus, whose extravagant abundance is illustrated in the Wedding Feast at Cana, would have us remember that his power to heal, to reconcile, to gather in, and to cause us to celebrate is unbounded. What God has created, in each of his precious children is the best of his love. May we carry it forward. May we hold in our prayer and our hearts those now imprisoned, and raise for them the light of hope.