June 6, 2021 – Proper 5 (2nd Sunday after Pentecost)

“Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mk 3.34-5)

There’s a lot going on today in the Gospel reading. The author of Mark takes us from setting the scene, to talking about Jesus’ family, to Jesus being accused of being possessed by Beelzebul, through some parables about a house divided and a strong man’s house, back through possession blaspheming against the Holy Spirit, and then back to Jesus’ family. But a key word is at the beginning of the passage — house. Jesus’ house, which functions as a symbol for the church, and the demonic, divided house over which Jesus’ power has been demonstrated.

The Greek behind the English we read today is οἶκον, [ükon] which is typically translated as house. But it can be translated as “the material building” of a house or as a “household, family, lineage, or nation.” When I think about community, my mind jumps to how community can serve as a family. I want to share with you today some things that I’ve been contemplating.

Community. It is what we build with those who are around us. It is the family that we get to choose, but are not stuck with. And while some around us stay somewhat consistent, community is a necessarily transitory thing. And yet it is so very important to each of us to be in community.

We are members of myriad communities with whom we can identify. I am white. I am a male. I am an American. I am a resident of Amherst. I am a priest. I am an alumnus of the schools I attended. I am a father. I am married. I am gay. I am a child of God.

Because of their nature, we can be members of communities for which we aren’t always present. My fellow priests are not here as I give this sermon. There are no fellow alumni here as I preach. And so it can become weird to us to be in community with people who aren’t present yet with whom we have created great bonds.

Community — in its original sense — meant fellowship. But in Medieval times, it came to be used to mean a society, or a division of people. If we trust the words of scripture and our traditions, it is reasonable and undeniable that we were created to be in relationship with one another. So when there is a break in our community, we all suffer.

Perhaps this is the place we’ve arrived at as a society — broken community. But, we are imperfect beings in an imperfect world. An imperfect world where pain and loss surround us daily. A world where intimacy and relationship with others is so desperately needed. A world where, for some, Sundays are the only time that they are touched and part of a community that they value.

By building community, we build relationship. Relationship humanizes one another. Relationship makes us see the people who surround us as people and not just as bodies that house their ideas or what they stand for.

By being in community, we hold one another accountable. By being in community, we can be vulnerable. But even more importantly, we give others permission to be vulnerable and give ourselves (and them) an opportunity to be supportive. As we share, we deepen our connections — we build even more intimacy — and our highs can help to support others’ lows. 

There are many who are excluded from or devalued in communities in our society today. To name just a few:

  • The 43 million people in the United States today living in poverty, of whom 18 million are CHILDREN;
  • The differently abled;
  • Women, whose rights are debated by their male counterparts;
  • People of color — black and brown — who are victimized, brutalized, and incarcerated at disproportionate rates to their white counterparts;
  • Those who practice different religions from us;
  • And those whose physical expression of love and who they love looks different from ours.

You see, my friends, community changes others’ lives. As members of Jesus’ community — the Jesus Movement today, if you will — we are given the charge to disrupt these conditions — to advocate for a community of all children of God. This is the world we need to commit to change. But we can’t do the change alone. We need one another. I need each of you. And you need me, too.

Relationship and intimacy humanize people. Humanizing builds community. Community heals. Each of us needs to be here for each and every one of us.

In today’s Gospel, the question of who is outside comes up over and over. Insiders and outsiders are defined not by physical location. Insiders and outsiders are not determined by blood. But people are in or out by their commitment to doing God’s will. 

 The truth is that no one should be outside of Jesus’ house. We are to invite everyone in to the presence of God.

John O’Donohue once wrote a blessing entitled On Meeting a Stranger:

With respect
And reverence
That the unknown
Between us
Might flower
Into discovery

And lead us
Beyond
The familiar field
Blind with the weed
Of weariness

And the old walls
Of habit.

My friends, we are to act as if there are no walls to keep anyone out, and invite everyone into Jesus’ house… white people, black people, brown people; people who walk and talk like us, people who can’t walk at all; people who sound just like us, people who speak other languages; people who are straight, gay, bisexual; cisgender, transgender; old, young; women, men. God loves all — no exceptions. Let us strive to unfetter the forces of Satan, and to build a community of love, where all are welcome, where all are celebrated, where all are in relationship. And through that relationship… that intimacy… that community, let us work together to change the world