June 23, 2024
Community Church of Durham (UCC)
Mark 4:35-41; Genesis 1
1.
We’ll get to the great gale, and the pounding waves, and the little boat, and Jesus asleep in the stern. But, first, a little bit about Pride, Portsmouth Pride, and what it means to us, what it means to the church.
What Pride does for me every year, every time, is it reminds me that the universe is bigger and sweeter than I could possibly understand. And the human community, too. We are even more diverse, and even more wonderful, and even more unpredictable that I could ever figure. I see that at Pride, in the faces of lovers walking arm and arm—without shame—across the fields of Strawberry Banke. I hear it in the buzz of a crowd unrestrained, unfazed, undaunted by politics—and simply and joyfully happy to celebrate life and being alive together. And with all that going on, every year, every Pride, I’m reminded that God too is bigger and sweeter than I could possibly say, that God too is even more wonderful, even more unpredictable, even more creative than I could ever figure.
Because here’s the thing. I believe, with all of you, with my beloved community: I believe that we are created in the image of God. All of us. The global community. “We” are created in the image of God. The whole human family. So all that love yesterday, all that diversity at Pride, all the ways of forming and honoring families, all the paths to commitment and kindness, all the piercing and all the tattoos, and the drag queens and the butch lesbians, and the five-year-old girl doted on by two moms and the teen playing frisbee with two dads. All of that love, all of that diversity is nothing else but the image of God revealed in plain daylight, the image of God revealed in the here and now, the image of God uncovered and unfettered and unfiltered. If you and I are made in the image of God, then we all are. God doesn’t get selective with that kind of thing: that’s not our faith, that’s not the gospel, that’s not the tradition we live in. We are created in the image of God—and if we’re even a little curious about who God is, and how God moves, and what kind of God would call us into the light—we should open our eyes and look around. At Pride. But not just at Pride. Every day. Everywhere. Because if we’re made in the image of God, the face of God is everywhere to be seen. We only have to open our eyes and look around.
That bit about being made in the image of God is, of course, right out the very first chapter of the Bible, the first creation story in the Book of Genesis. And it’s important to note that, in that particular creation story, God creates all humans, all genders, all of us together, in the image of God. And the point of God’s creating humankind isn’t the Ozzie and Harriet nuclear family. And it’s not the dominance of one gender over all the others. And it’s not about any kind of hierarchy or system of privilege at all. It’s about tending the earth’s gardens, and it’s about loving the earth’s creatures, and it’s about protecting the fish of the sea and naming the birds of the air, and it’s about loving creation in all the same ways God does.
In other words, and this is important in an essential way for the church, God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God can’t create alone. God can’t love in isolation. God can’t celebrate and dance and grow things and nurture life on the planet without co-creating partners. And that’s us. We’re the co-creating partners God needs, God desires, God loves into being. And every June, at every Pride Celebration I’ve been to—and I’ve been to many—every time I experience a growing and exuberant and brave human community that is ready, willing and eager to go. The co-creating partners God needs. In a world of profound sadness. In a world desperate for exuberance and courage. God needs us.
So when God creates all genders, all humans in God’s own image—it’s not to establish the dominance of some over others, and it’s not to set up purity codes that honor and protect some and demonize or demoralize others. All of that misogyny, and all of that homophobia, and all of the patriarchy and bigotry that follows—it’s all human beings missing the point and missing the mark. What God desires is partnership, all of us, all genders, male, female, queer and nonbinary, gay and straight, lesbian and trans, all of us. What God desires is a human community of co-creating partners—willing to celebrate creation with God, eager to dance upon the planet in circles of joy and blessing, committed to loving the fields, forests, mountains and fountains of the earth with every cell in our beings. Co-creating partners. That’s what it means to be made in the image of God. Nothing less.
2.
So Pride was fantastic, fabulous yesterday. It gets better and bigger and wilder every year. Parades and music, booths and energy, and people, people, people. Beautiful people!
And I want to tell just one story about yesterday’s festivities. And the odd thing is that I wasn’t even around to experience it. But I was greeted at our table by a couple of different versions. And I think it speaks powerfully, delightfully to this whole bit about human vocation and the image of God.
1.
We’ll get to the great gale, and the pounding waves, and the little boat, and Jesus asleep in the stern. But, first, a little bit about Pride, Portsmouth Pride, and what it means to us, what it means to the church.
Because here’s the thing. I believe, with all of you, with my beloved community: I believe that we are created in the image of God. All of us. The global community. “We” are created in the image of God. The whole human family. So all that love yesterday, all that diversity at Pride, all the ways of forming and honoring families, all the paths to commitment and kindness, all the piercing and all the tattoos, and the drag queens and the butch lesbians, and the five-year-old girl doted on by two moms and the teen playing frisbee with two dads. All of that love, all of that diversity is nothing else but the image of God revealed in plain daylight, the image of God revealed in the here and now, the image of God uncovered and unfettered and unfiltered. If you and I are made in the image of God, then we all are. God doesn’t get selective with that kind of thing: that’s not our faith, that’s not the gospel, that’s not the tradition we live in. We are created in the image of God—and if we’re even a little curious about who God is, and how God moves, and what kind of God would call us into the light—we should open our eyes and look around. At Pride. But not just at Pride. Every day. Everywhere. Because if we’re made in the image of God, the face of God is everywhere to be seen. We only have to open our eyes and look around.
That bit about being made in the image of God is, of course, right out the very first chapter of the Bible, the first creation story in the Book of Genesis. And it’s important to note that, in that particular creation story, God creates all humans, all genders, all of us together, in the image of God. And the point of God’s creating humankind isn’t the Ozzie and Harriet nuclear family. And it’s not the dominance of one gender over all the others. And it’s not about any kind of hierarchy or system of privilege at all. It’s about tending the earth’s gardens, and it’s about loving the earth’s creatures, and it’s about protecting the fish of the sea and naming the birds of the air, and it’s about loving creation in all the same ways God does.
In other words, and this is important in an essential way for the church, God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God can’t create alone. God can’t love in isolation. God can’t celebrate and dance and grow things and nurture life on the planet without co-creating partners. And that’s us. We’re the co-creating partners God needs, God desires, God loves into being. And every June, at every Pride Celebration I’ve been to—and I’ve been to many—every time I experience a growing and exuberant and brave human community that is ready, willing and eager to go. The co-creating partners God needs. In a world of profound sadness. In a world desperate for exuberance and courage. God needs us.
So when God creates all genders, all humans in God’s own image—it’s not to establish the dominance of some over others, and it’s not to set up purity codes that honor and protect some and demonize or demoralize others. All of that misogyny, and all of that homophobia, and all of the patriarchy and bigotry that follows—it’s all human beings missing the point and missing the mark. What God desires is partnership, all of us, all genders, male, female, queer and nonbinary, gay and straight, lesbian and trans, all of us. What God desires is a human community of co-creating partners—willing to celebrate creation with God, eager to dance upon the planet in circles of joy and blessing, committed to loving the fields, forests, mountains and fountains of the earth with every cell in our beings. Co-creating partners. That’s what it means to be made in the image of God. Nothing less.
2.
So Pride was fantastic, fabulous yesterday. It gets better and bigger and wilder every year. Parades and music, booths and energy, and people, people, people. Beautiful people!
And I want to tell just one story about yesterday’s festivities. And the odd thing is that I wasn’t even around to experience it. But I was greeted at our table by a couple of different versions. And I think it speaks powerfully, delightfully to this whole bit about human vocation and the image of God.
And then the team noticed a single person in the spot next to ours, who was calmly and methodically putting up a similar tent, by herself. Just herself. In a matter of seconds. No craziness. No drama. Just a tent. Like she'd done it a thousand times before.
See, I think the image of God is the eight of you, it’s revealed in the eight of you, collaborating, flailing in the wind, wondering if it’ll ever work, laughing at silliness of it all, and finally getting it done. That’s our vocation. That’s where the image of God is made plain and real and compelling for the world to see. The co-creating partners God has needed all along. Flailing in the wind. Showering one another with laughter. Creating a shelter for celebration on a windy day! The church is always at its best—maybe even its prophetic best—when we’re doing wonderful, faithful, wacky things together with love and laughter. And showing the world all that God can do with co-creating partners on a windy day!
And by the way, we could say the very same thing about a group of 15 putting together an anthem every week and giving that anthem away to us on Sunday morning. We could say the very same thing about another group of 15 committing time, energy and prayer to the accompaniment of immigrant friends who come to us looking not so much for answers, but friendship, partnership, persistence and hope. The church is always at its best—maybe even its prophetic best—when we’re doing wonderful, faithful, wacky things together with love and laughter.
3.
So about the wind, and the sea, and the boat, and Jesus in the stern, asleep on the cushion.
On our way to inclusion and celebration, for the whole human family; on our way to a beloved community that truly and joyfully honors diversity and the many ways of loving; on our way to the world God is building in our midst…there are storms to face, and gusts of wind, and even moments when we feel as if we’re perishing.
I think that’s the point of the gospel story this morning. That embracing God’s vision of openness and affirmation, embracing our calling as a beloved community, and following Jesus…means heading out into unchartered territory, means facing a sudden storm or two, means losing sight of where we’ve been for a while, as we keep our eyes focused on what might be up ahead. Every church I know that has worked its way through the Open and Affirming process has lost members, for example, those who just couldn’t accept the church’s faithful embrace of the LGBTq community, and left their cherished community because of it. We’ve had our own rainbow flag, the one we fly out here on Main Street all the time, we’ve had it stolen multiple times, for who knows how many reasons, but a sign that homophobia isn’t yet a thing of the past. And just up the road in Dover this week, our friends at First Church arrived one morning to find a terrifying poster posted to the front door, threatening them with hell’s destruction, for their own Open and Affirming stance in our community.
So the storms are still whipping at the boats, the gale still howls at peoples of good will, and in Concord new bills arrive every legislative term targeting the transgender community, targeting queer kids, demonizing their parents and teachers. And it all seems relentless, scary and a huge distraction from the important work of building a just community, perfecting a union of peoples, learning how to live together in a multicultural world.
But there’s Jesus, our teacher, our inspiration, the Child of God, resting in the stern, unphased by the madness, undaunted by the storm surging, and always eager to calm our nerves and settle our spirits and keep us moving forward. One of the little details I’ve always loved in the reading today is this one about Jesus getting into the boat “just as he was.” Just as he was. Which I take to mean that he didn’t bring a satchel of books, or even a well-stocked bookpack; and he didn’t bring a whole host of well-reasoned arguments, and he didn’t bring a whole ream of church doctrine and fancy prayers and defensive fundamentalism. Jesus comes along “just as he is.” And he invites our trust, our partnership, our honesty and our courage. It’s not complicated, he says. Just trust God. Turn it all over to God.
It strikes me, friends, that our Open and Affirming journey is not ever complete, or finished, or a done deal. It strikes me that there is always another sea to cross, another community to welcome, another blind spot to address, another system of privilege to confess and exorcise. And that’s as it should be. The Open and Affirming journey, after all, is the gospel journey, the journey with Jesus, to build a community that fully, joyfully, justly welcomes and includes all God’s children. It’s the gospel journey, the journey with Jesus, to repair the torn fabric in the human family, to bring us together in love and respect, to celebrate the important, essential gifts of each and every child of God. And all the way sof loving. The rainbow ways of loving.
And we will need, maybe even often, to call upon the Waymaker, the Morningstar, Jesus our Teacher and Friend, to show us how. We will need to ask for guidance when things seem complicated beyond our grasp, and when conflicts threaten to sink the ship. We will need to welcome Jesus grace and God’s forgiveness, when we make mistakes, when we don’t get it right, when we hurt one another along the way.
The good news, the truly good and liberating news, is that Jesus is with us, asleep perhaps, in the stern sometimes, but always with us. And God’s liberating love flows through Jesus into our hearts, and through our crises, and across the life of the church. All we have to do is seek it out. All we have to do is ask. This Open and Affirming journey is like putting up a tent on a gusty morning at Strawberry Banke. There may be moments it all seems undoable. There may be moments that befuddle us into despair. But all we have to do is ask. And we can raise that rainbow tent for all the world to see.
Amen and Ashe.
