Lectionary
readings: 2 Corinthians 8:7-24 and Mark 5:21-43
You
may recall that I spoke recently about the Church of England’s desire to
explore ‘Christian teaching and learning about identity, sexuality,
relationships and marriage,’ under the banner heading Living in Love and
Faith, and that this would inform my preaching over the summer months, and
that we would be running the five-session Living in Love and Faith
course as a way of considering these issues together. Well, the Prime
Minister’s announcement pushing back a full lifting of current Covid-19
restrictions deep into July has meant that we will now have to look to the
early autumn to run the course; but the rest still stands. And this morning I
want to draw on our texts to consider the complex nature of the quality of our
relationships.
I
want to begin with the Gospel, where we meet a woman who has bled from her womb
for twelve years, not in menstrual cycles, but continuously and without
ceasing. Nobody knew why. The physicians did not understand her body. They
acted upon her, some perhaps with great sympathy and care, others, perhaps,
with coldness; but not least because they acted upon her rather than with her,
her investment resulted in no profit, only greater loss. Her condition is not
simply physical, but one of social isolation. She is not welcome within the
wider community, for fear that they will be contaminated by her presence, that
they or their daughters might catch her disease. And after twelve years of
unwelcome, this freak is now also penniless. No husband, no children, no
prospects. And then, she heard that Jesus was in town. And hearing, she risks
everything, pushing her way through the crowd that has come out in welcome—not
of her, never for her—to touch the hem of his cloak. That, she knows, is enough
for her, to be made well.
What
happens next transforms everything. Firstly, we are told that immediately, the
‘fountain of her blood’ was ‘parched.’ That is, her most painful experience,
the cause of her rejection by the community, is transformed into a foretelling
of, and mystical communion with, Jesus on the cross, the Son of Man and Son of
God who cried out “I thirst!” as his blood flowed for the healing of the world.
And secondly, we are told, that she ‘came to know,’ ‘in the body’ [that was
hers], ‘that she was healed of her affliction.’ The word for ‘body’ is used
both for the physical body and for the Church as mystical body of Christ. The
word for ‘disease’ is taken from the scourge of leather thongs embedded with pieces
of metal used to punish criminals, used to describe the kinds of condition that
carry a tortuous level of pain, and public humiliation. In other words, what is
revealed to us by and with and in this woman is that healing is (meant) to be
found through participation in the life of the Church. When Jesus declares back
to the woman what has taken place, he replaces a word for healing with a word
for salvation, for being brought into divine safety from the penalty and power
of sin. Through her faith—her active trust, even at personal cost,
demonstrating great vulnerability—this woman is seen, for who see is, a
Daughter of Abraham, a full member of the family, for the first time in many
long years. If the Church is not a place of such finding wholeness, whatever
else it might be, it is not the Church.
This
story is juxtaposed with that of Jairus’ daughter, a little girl of twelve
years old, who dies before Jesus can get to her. And the crowd gathered at her
home laugh when Jesus says that she is only sleeping. For they know that things
are simply the way that they are, and that you cannot change them, however hard
and sad that might be, however much you wish it were different—for there is no
doubt that there is considerable and deep-felt emotion going on here, commotion,
weeping and wailing. And Jesus responds, We’ll see. Life is given back,
relationship restored, not a continuation of what was previously, but a
transformation for all involved. And this made-new family is constituted around
a table, in the sharing of a meal. Again, the Church, hidden in plain sight in
the text, as (mistaken) potential custodians of a lost past or (taken)
potential witnesses to the inbreaking future.
With
all that in mind, I want to turn to Paul’s exhortation to the church in Corinth.
The original context is concerned with the raising of financial support for
distribution as there was need. And that in itself is a challenge for us today,
who, as a congregation, contribute around half of what we have been asked to
contribute towards supporting our sisters and brothers in local churches across
our Diocese. But our lens over this summer relates to ‘Christian teaching and
learning about identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage,’ under the
banner heading Living in Love and Faith, and there are principles that
can be applied.
Firstly,
we are neither self-sufficient nor solely self-determining, as an identifiable
gathered community or as individuals. It is not what we say about ourselves,
the narratives we tell, that matters, so much as how we are experienced by
other people in relationship. This is true of those who say, ‘I am generous,’
but do not actually give generously. It is true of those who say, ‘I chose how
I will identify, and be identified publicly’—and it is true of those who
dismiss those who make such claims. Within the Church, we are invited and
challenged to recognise that we find our truest self, and our healed
relationship with others, in Jesus, and as part of his broken body.
To
this end, we must be open to one another, in as much as we are able, and not
accusing one another over the extent to which we are unable. But
self-sufficiency and self-determinism are so embedded in us, and we are all
less wise, more easily deceived, than we care to acknowledge. This is why our
hearts—‘the genuineness of your love’—must be tested, again and again. This is
also why our life must be seen, not hidden—open, proved—just as Jesus insisted
that the woman who touched his cloak be seen by the crowd, and by his
disciples, and that their own assumptions and prejudices also be seen, for what
they are, in the light of her faith.
‘All
around us we see changing understandings of human identity, changing patterns
of relationships and families, changing sexual attitudes and activity. What
does it mean for followers of Jesus to walk in love, faith and holiness today?’
(from the Welcome to the Living in Love and Faith course). As proof of
our love, and following the self-giving example of our Lord Jesus Christ, and
Paul’s advice to the church in Corinth, let us not only exercise generosity,
according to our means, but also administer generosity, according to the needs
of different communities, different people. May we be eager for the wellbeing
and full participation of others, as Titus was; and may we become known for
proclaiming good news.
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