Calling Ourselves Back Home

A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California at the 7:45am service on Homecoming Sunday. Find the 10am interactive intergenerational sermon given on the same day here.

Welcome to “Homecoming Sunday.” This is a day to celebrate St. John’s; this community, and all we do together. As we return from summer (even though it still feels like summer to me!), and return to old and new fall routines. After the 10am service, everyone will have the opportunity to learn more about what we do and all the ways anyone can get involved here.

But right now, I would like to say – whether you are visiting for the first time, or the fiftieth year — welcome home.

Now, our assigned Gospel reading this morning is maybe not the first one you would think of on a cheery celebration Sunday like this. We’ve got Jesus insulting a woman who asks him for help, and a healing involving … spit.

But actually, that first story is pretty helpful in thinking about what we mean when we talk about church as “home.” This morning Jesus has traveled far from where he lives to a place where people do things differently from what he’s used to. Their customs and traditions aren’t familiar to him.

And a local women – known only as the Syrophenecian woman -- comes to Jesus and asks him to heal her daughter.  And Jesus says no. His home is back in Galilee, and hers is here in Tyre. He is a Jew and she is a gentile. The suggestion here is that maybe she should seek help from her people, in her home, and that Jesus will take care of his people in his home.  

Some of you may remember just a couple weeks ago when I listed this story as one of those we’re allowed to read and ask “what’s up with that??” Well, there are many ways to answer that question, but I tend to think it has something to do with that “fully human” thing about Jesus of Nazareth.

So here’s a story: I think some of you may imagine the kind of seminary student I was. Very concerned about getting things right; getting things done, and getting them in on time.

One day in a Gospels class, we were asked to break into groups of three to work on an in-class assignment. There was a strict time limit to get the work done, probably 20 minutes or so. The group consisted of myself, another white woman, and a Black woman.

All three of us set to trying to figure out what the kind of confusing instructions for the task at hand were, and the best way to get it done. I remember yapping quickly – okay okay, I think I see, we’re supposed to do this and that. And the other white student saying, yeah yeah yeah, maybe we should do this this and this. And then the Black student said something like, “well why don’t we just start doing ...” And I regret to say both I and my white colleague cut her off at the same time, and said something to the order of, “oh no I don’t think so, we can’t start with that yet, I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to …”

And the Black student said, “okay both of you just stop. I need you to know this kind of energy coming at me from two white women is really triggering and not okay. I’ve dealt with it all my life.”

My stomach and heart pressed into one another. I cared about and admired this student. I felt a wave of guilt and shame run through me. And, I took a deep breath, and apologized, and promised never to do it again. We waited for a few moments, and got back to it. Calmy and truly collaboratively. And I worried less about following the rules to the letter or pleasing our professor. And I worried more about the relationships we were building. Which, of course, was a true Gospel lesson for a Gospels class,

Did I sin in that classroom? I of course cannot ultimately make that judgement. I know that I had no ill intent toward this woman who, I can report, is off being a wonderful pastor all these years later.

When I took part in our confession (at St. John’s) that week, this experience was on my mind. And the way our confession is corporate – “we have sinned against you ..” struck a deep chord. I don’t know if I sinned. But I do know I participated in a sinful system. I know that the waters of white supremacy I swim in influenced my posture and my actions that day. Maybe I’m fooling myself and there’s no difference, but it’s helped me have a lens to look at this encounter with the Syrophenecian woman.

What that student did that day in class was brave. And, it was an invaluable gift to me. She didn’t let me keep falling closer and closer to what would be easily discernable sin. She called me back. Back from the many intersecting human-made systems of sin, including racism. And closer to the way of being in the Kingdom of Heaven.

And I think that’s something of the role the Syrophenecian woman is playing for Jesus this morning. We know that Jesus was without sin. But we also know Jesus was also fully human in this sinful, human world.

As the Rev. Dr. Wil Gafney has preached, “this is a passage that will sort out your Christology. How human, how divine is your Jesus? Is he human enough to be bigoted and biased?”

I tend to think yes, he is that human. And if he is that human, when we say, our God understands just what all this is like, we really mean it. Jesus of Nazareth was of a people that held biases and were the victims of them. That feels like an unfortunately key piece of this human experience to me.

If we’re lucky, as we walk this human experience, we will encounter our own Syrophencin women; friends, coworkers, or congregants. Who pull us back. Who remind us that our boundaries and biases are all the products of human impulses and ambitions. Remind us that Jesus was home with this woman. And she was home with him.

As members of this community, we may need to remind ourselves or one another that St. John’s is home to the person who just arrived as much as it is to the person who can’t remember a time before she knew this place. Because every single one of us – every single one of you -- is home. Right now. In the presence of God and one another.

It's a challenge to call ourselves back to that truth – one I’m not sure any church fully lives up to -- new people bring challenges (the good kind!), because they may bring into question the way we are used to doing things or the words we are accustomed to using. We may need to adjust and change, so our new friends feel just as at home as we do. Because that is our call. From our friend the Syrophenician woman.

Welcome home everyone.