Mark 1.21-28

Peace be to you and grace from him who freed us from our sins.

Wednesday morning I woke up to the news on the radio:  a recap of our President’s State of the Union address.  And the results of the work of those elite Navy Seals.  Plus the news that Michelle Bachmann would indeed run for reelection.  And something I was sure I dreamt but evidently not, a memo one of the candidates promised to write on his first day in the Oval Office undoing the Health Care Reform Bill.  Then almost as an aside was a one liner simply mentioning that this day was the one year anniversary of the Arab Spring, the resistance movement which started in Tahir Square in Cairo, Egypt.

In the nether land twixt slumber and wakefulness, I wondered what those headlines had in common.  They all seemed about community, about different visions of community.  Some were about those who should be excluded from community along with some pretty definite ways of excluding. But a couple of the stories were a plea, a plan for community with health and wholeness even for those who are considered last and least.  Tricky business these days because, as we are finding out, not all who have or seek power want to be inclusive with it.

Almost as if it were planned, today’s Gospel text is about community.  It is a story about a man with an “unclean spirit,” which is not the kind of language we use today.  The political rhetoric subliminally imprinting on our brains makes us more familiar with talk of “illegals,” or those who obviously feel entitled to welfare programs, or you know, “them.”  Meaning gays or tax and spend liberals or conservatives or you fill in the blank. It really makes we wonder if there are any un-gated communities left. Jesus seems to have some non-debatable notions about that.

To hear them lets first pay attention to the words.  In first century Israel, “unclean” meant lots of things.  It meant health issues such as leprosy, or mental heal issues which separated people, singled them out.  Uncleanness could be caused by accidents of birth such as legs which didn’t work.  Sometimes the word “sinners” was used in connection with certain occupations like shepherding.  That one is obvious.  They didn‘t have bathrooms in the fields, much less hand sanitizers.  And then there were women who could be so referred simply on account of their gender.

The man with an unclean spirit was a person who was not able to, could not, or was otherwise prevented from keeping the Mosaic Laws for cleanliness.  It meant he probably did not have a home.  He wasn’t likely then to keep kosher kitchen.  He certainly did not do his ritual ablutions, the kind which were necessary for anyone to be admitted into worship at synagogue on the Shabbat.  Amazingly he just came anyway.

I imagine people weren’t happy.  Some undoubtedly were thinking how to get rid of him. Perhaps we would be no different.  The unclean spirit wanted to identify Jesus.  But Jesus wouldn’t have it.  Instead he named it and ordered it to leave the man alone.  Which with some drama, it did.  And everyone noticed the power.  If the words author and authority are connected, it means that Jesus who is the author of life, the Word of God, has the authority over creation.  And Jesus demonstrated it here to a very clear purpose.

For starters, Jesus removed everything which stood in the way of community for this man. And more, Jesus made it clear that being part of community wasn’t dependent upon being perfect or right or clean or just like everyone else in the community. By doing this Jesus clearly stated that people are more important than any law which excludes.  Evidently Jesus thought excluding someone for reasons beyond their choice or control is simply wrong.  And though we are not told in this story, the inference is that those who know something about brokenness have a rich gift to give back to the community.  Redemption is for a purpose.

So enough beating around the bush.  What kind of community do we practice here at Gloria Dei?  I suppose if we really want to know we should ask our custodians, those people we usually look right through and don’t see as they pick up our mess after us.  I bet they could tell us volumes.  Or we could get out our calendars and see how we spend our time.  Or if we really wanted to get personal, we could look at our ATM receipts and notice the way we spend our money. What do you think?  Are we an easy circle to enter?  What if you were the one with an uncleanness you thought others would not understand? What would you be dying to hear from the people here?

In this week of the one year anniversary of Tahir Square, might we think of church not so much as a building or denomination or gathering of like minded people.  But church as a  movement, a confessing movement, a liberating movement which like its leader un-gaits the community of heaven.  It might go a long ways to someone who makes it inside this space for the first time. It might go even further to someone who comes regularly but believes enough to know they don’t believe enough.  It might make all the difference in refuting the growing sentiment that Christianity is an exclusive religion practiced by and for those who don’t have much to be forgiven. 

Meanwhile we have business to attend to. We the people who gather here are on the brink of setting our budget for mission and ministry for the year 2012.  Our Annual Meeting will do just that on 12 February, right before Valentine’s Day; go figure. How we determine to spend our dollars will say everything about what we value as a community.  Oh, I do hope you speak up.

Because Christianity, contrary to what you might be hearing, is not a set of rules to keep people out.  It is a movement of people who know something about having uncleanness washed away in the waters of Baptism. For that very reason we form ourselves as a caring, welcoming, healing community.  And we act on behalf of the health and wholeness of all.  It is really that simple.