An old man had a habit of early morning walks on the beach. One day, after a storm, he saw a human figure in the distance moving like a dancer. As he came closer he saw that it was a young woman and she was not dancing but was reaching down to the sand, picking up a starfish and very gently throwing them into the ocean.
"Young lady", he asked, "Why are you throwing starfish
into the ocean?"
"The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I do not throw
them in they will die."
"But young lady, do you not realise that there are miles and miles
of beach and starfish all along it? You cannot possibly make a
difference."
The young woman listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up
another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves, saying:
"It made a difference for that one."
This story, which began as an essay about 50 years ago by American
Anthropologist Loren Eiseley then has been heavily adapted since then, opens today’s sermon as we consider the
Missional table setting of the theological banquet. I offer this story with no
small amount of affection for yes, at the table of the theological banquet I
sit with the missionals. It’s a part of
the table located so that we can easily get up as needed, because us missionals
are helpers. Those of a spiritual inclination deepened my faith in my 50s,
evangelicals enlivened me in my 40s,
I married an ecumenical in my 20s
and from childhood have loved the church in a way befitting an ecclesial,
but in my actions – which is the decision point in the theological banquet - I
am a missional, seeing the starfish, being moved by their plight, and helping
them back into the water.
Perhaps no two place settings are more closely related than the
missional, described by Dr. Janet Gear (p.118) as those who have “an
authentically lived faith which expresses itself in hands-on relationships
marked by empathy, healing, and care”, and the ecumenical, the social justice
activists who gather with other allies to name and challenge the root causes of
society’s ills. A variation of the
starfish story has the wise elder encouraging the starfish thrower to stop
spending so much time saving individual starfish and, instead, address whatever
is causing so many of these beings to be lobbed onto the beach, and rather than
setting that up as an either/or I would suggest that those higher-order
questions and the timely actions that keep beached starfish from baking in the
sun must work in concert with one another. The ecumenical is not unconcerned
with the immediate need, and the missional is not unaware of the complexity
that creates the need, each is more nuanced than that. Whether one’s primary
action is seeking systemic solutions for the entire population of starfish, or
helping them get back into the sea one by one, the call of Jesus is heard, to
be outwardly focused, deeply and meaningfully engaged with the lives of those
in need.
In this morning’s reading from the gospel of Mark, Jesus exhibits both
forms of service, making an abrupt improvement in the lives of two desperately
ill women, while also forcefully declaring God’s desire to address the forces
impacting those in need. Using a form frequently employed by Mark, one healing story
is sandwiched in the middle of another healing story: the outer story begins
with Jairus, a leader of the synagogue in Capernaum, who urgently calls on
Jesus to heal his daughter, who hovers between life and death. A few verses later, amidst the protests of
those with the girl who said she had already died, Jesus forges ahead and does
two very missional things: he reaches out with healing and gently says to her,
“get up, little one” – and after she does so, he turns to the people in the
house and directs them to get her something to eat. That’s the outer reading of these verses, and
in between the request by Jairus and the healing by Jesus is another story: of
the woman experiencing an endless flow of blood, who reaches out in desperation
to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment – does so – and is healed. In this case the healing is enacted not by
the conscious actions of Jesus, but by the woman’s accurate belief that the
healing power of Jesus can put an end to her suffering. Healing for the 12 year old girl comes
through the verbally expressed faith of a parent at wits’ end and the healing
touch of Jesus, and fullness of healing for a woman tormented for 12 years by a
flow of blood comes as the woman reaches out to touch the God who expresses
healing and wholeness for all of creation.
Focusing on the story in the middle of today’s lesson, Reformed Church
Pastor Alisha Riepma writes,
“This unnamed woman… not only suffered
from continuous bleeding for many years, but also that dirty, unclean feeling
resulting from being stigmatized and isolated…. Jesus meets her in this
space—or, rather, is met by her—and does the opposite of what is expected.
Instead of being repulsed or disgusted by her, he responds with peace…acceptance
and grace…[and] understanding. He calls her daughter. He accepts her [and] heals
her”. Jesus, who did not see this woman
touch him but felt the healing power move, treated her with dignity, as he
engaged the little girl with restorative power and deep gentleness. Reaching past social stigmas attached to
illness and women’s monthly cycles, the healing power restores these females
both medically and socially to a place of wholeness, and as Alisha writes, the
promise of restorative touch is offered to all: “Jesus meets us where we are
and reminds us of our belovedness”.
Another angle of approach about this middle story tells
us even more about the way that the actions and intentions of Jesus combine a
healing of all the things that ail our bodies, minds, and spirits, all the
things that create unfair limitations. I share this with a note of thanks to my
teammate, Amy Haynes, who, in the Scarboro Friday newsletter flagged a podcast
by Dr. Angela N. Parker. Angela identifies
points of connection between the suffering experienced by this woman and the
sufferings experienced by Christ on the cross. This woman, who had seen many doctors over twelve
years who only made things worse for her, also dealt with the humiliating exclusions
of those who experience all manner of bleeding, from monthly periods to ongoing
wounds. Through faith and determination,
the woman reaches for Jesus, touching only the hem of his garment, exercising
what little agency she had and while he could not see her he felt her touch. In reaching out to Jesus, this woman of great
faith was reaching out one who would in his own life deal with things being
made much worse for him by the actions of others, who would experience his own
flow of blood from being flogged, who would endure the ultimate Imperial
humiliation – that is, crucifixion. And even more than that, both Dr. Angela and
my Greek-translating friend, Dr. Mark Davis, point out that the Greek text of
Mark 5 technically says that this woman was “in a flow of blood” rather than
she “had a flow of blood”, and Angela then interprets that this woman was a
Galilean who “had seen much bloodshed as a result of Imperialistic suffering” –
and in that, connects yet again with Jesus, the one who to this day is so
profoundly connected to all persons who bear the marks of Empire on their body.
Within the missional framework we start with the
person, presence and example of Jesus, which repeatedly calls us to listen
respectfully to the experience of others, seeking empathy and connection and
bearing the healing impulse of Christ.
Reaching out to others in love in the name of Jesus can be simple and
practical, and it can also be profound and touching, especially when dealing
with people who are unaccustomed to being treated with dignity, affection and
hope. In reaching out in such ways, we do truly become the “hands and feet of
Christ”.
As with all modes of responding to the call of Jesus Christ, there are
ways that us missionals can easily slide off the rails. Speaking personally, I enjoy being busy
doing Christ’s work and in so doing can easily get so focused on the trees that
I miss what’s going on with the forest, and frontline, hands-on aid can easily
foster dependency without even knowing it; and the Church bears the shame of
the Indian Residential Schools, in which evangelism and missional concern were
attached inseparably to the goals of colonialism. As a third-generation United
Church cleric, the Residential School fiasco, in particular, creates a personal
imperative to make sure that whatever we do as Church from here on is founded
in anti-oppressive practice, continuously checking in with those we work with
to ensure that we’re not falling into paternalistic do-goodism, or sliding into
the goals of empire rather than the liberating, healing, justice-bringing goals
of the Kin-dom of God.
And so we turn to the Holy One for renewal, focus and
no small amount of forgiving grace, as we seek faithful response to God and
neighbour. In all the ways we hear God’s call and respond – Evangelical,
Ecclesial, Ecumenical, Spiritual, Missional, and all the combinations therein –
may we be motivated by love. In all the
ways we hear God’s call and respond, may we be a people who listen with
respect, and check our actions against the person and practice of Jesus. In all the ways we hear God’s call and respond,
may Christ’s own concern for those oppressed and marginalized by the powers and
principalities find expression. By the
transformative power of divine grace, may all this be so. Amen.
References cited and consulted:
Davis, D. Mark. https://leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com/
Eiseley, Loren The Star Thrower. NYC: Random House, cited in https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Star_Thrower
Gear, Janet. Undivided Love. Altona, MB:
Friesen, 2022.
https://nctr.ca/education/teaching-resources/residential-school-history/
Parker, Angela N. with woman interviewere. https://www.christiancentury.org/blog-post/contemplating-now/episode-10-breathing-mysticism-conversation-angela-n-parker
Resta, Robert. https://thednaexchange.com/2019/01/20/the-benefits-and-blinders-of-do-goodism/
Riepma, Alisha. https://www.faithward.org/the-woman-who-bled-for-12-years/
© 2024 Rev Greg Wooley, Scarboro United Church, Calgary AB.
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