This past Sunday, we observed “Coming Out Sunday.” Here’s my sermon.

Proper 24B

October 20, 2024

A couple of weeks ago, I had a conversation with a newcomer to Grace. He and his partner are planning a wedding next year and have begun attending as part of their spiritual journey. As we chatted, and as I later reflected on our conversation, I was reminded of the long journey in the Episcopal Church toward full inclusion of LGBTQ+ persons. 

I came into the Episcopal Church in the early 90s, and within a few years was fully immersed in the controversies surrounding the ordination of LGBTQ+ individuals. By 2000, when we were living in South Carolina and in a very difficult place in our journeys, Corrie and I searched for a new church using the list of LGBTQ+-welcoming congregations compiled by Louie Crew and we found a temporary home at All Souls’ Biltmore Village, in Asheville NC. By 2003, I was in the ordination process, and my developing ministry was shaped by the deep division in the church that emerged in the wake of Gene Robinson’s election as Bishop of New Hampshire.

As the church struggled, and divided over the question of LGBTQ+ ordination, and then over same-sex blessings and marriage, the question of full inclusion was a focus of much energy, debate, and anxiety. Here at Grace, after decisions by General Convention to offer liturgies for same-sex blessings, and then marriage, we had lengthy conversations of our own as we discerned our way forward.

But all of that history had receded into the background, not because of its lack of importance, but because the sense of urgency that consumed us for decades seemed to have waned with changing times. There were other concerns, other challenges that we faced, and I think I and the congregation as a whole seemed at peace with our place and had moved onto other issues.

That conversation I mentioned a few minutes ago reminded me of the reality that wherever we are as a church, wherever I am as a priest and pastor, for many other people, the struggle continues; they may still be suffering the pain of exclusion and marginalization, and seeking safe places for healing, communities with which to connect, and a Jesus who welcomes them for who they are and embraces them in their lives, bodies, and sexuality.

And the reality is that the gains that have been over the decades, in our church and in our society, are fragile ones, that even now there are forces that seek to roll back those gains, to force people back into the closet. We have often heard the phrase: “The arc of the universe bends towards justice” but just now, it seems it may be bending back toward injustice and hate. It’s important, too, to name the reality that among the institutions that have been most opposed to the full inclusion of LGBTQ+ persons are Christian churches. Too many people have been deeply hurt by the rejection they have received from churches, the hate and enmity.

So for us at Grace to observe Coming Out Sunday is a small gesture to show the community that we are different: that we welcome all people, regardless of their gender or sexuality and that we seek to create a safe space where they can thrive and flourish, a space where they can experience the love, grace, and mercy of Jesus Christ and share that same love, grace, and mercy with others.

And so we offer space to those on journeys, space for renewal and rest, space for discovery and growth, space to experience God. But our journeys may not end here; and the journey of the church hasn’t ended. We are on a journey with Jesus.

So too were the disciples. We have had a lot to say about geography in the Gospel of Mark over the last couple of months. We saw Jesus teaching and healing in Galilee, his home territory, and going across the Jordan to Gentile territory; over to the west to the Mediterranean coast, and to Caesarea Philippi, all Gentile regions. But now he has on his final journey to Jerusalem and along the way, he tells his disciples what will happen to him there. Three times, he predicts his crucifixion and resurrection. The lectionary omitted the third prediction, which immediately precedes today’s gospel reading: 

32 They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid. He took the twelve aside again and began to tell them what was to happen to him, ³³saying, ‘See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; ³⁴they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.’

Jesus says all this, and two of his closest friends, James and John, decide that now is the time for them to make their request of Jesus. they’ve been with him from the very beginning, they were there at the Transfiguration when they saw Jesus in white clothes walking with Moses and Elijah. And now, they take Jesus aside.

It’s easy to imagine. Jesus has already separated the twelve out from the somewhat larger group of men and women who have been following him from Galilee, and now James and John find a way to separate Jesus from the rest of the group. They approach him somewhat obsequiously, tentatively: “Jesus, we have something we’d like to ask you.” He humors them, and then they blurt it out: “We want to be right next to you, on your left and right hand, when you come into your glory.”

You can see how problematic this request was by the way James and John approached Jesus, and by the reaction of the other disciples when they heard Jesus’ response. The Gospel of Matthew goes a step further. Matthew was so bothered by the question that he had James and John’s mother make the request. 

This is one of those moments in the Gospel of Mark that is full of meaning and can be understood only in light of the gospel as a whole. Even as Jesus’ response points ahead to the events that will occur in Jerusalem, careful attention to them will find resonances elsewhere in the gospel. James and John ask to be at Jesus’ right and left hand when he comes into his glory. What does “glory” mean here? The disciples are thinking of military and political triumph, but Jesus has in mind his crucifixion and resurrection.

We may look at James and John in this story, wondering how they could be so stupid, so self-centered, so oblivious to what Jesus is talking about, but let’s be honest with ourselves and with the text—Jesus is saying some difficult things, and we’ve all been in positions similar to that of the two disciples, involved in organizations, jockeying for position, looking for how we might get ahead. If we’re the insiders, like James and John, we want to take advantage of it.

There’s a lot of talk about “privilege” these days, and the backlash we’re seeing to the challenges to privilege—whether it’s diversity efforts in universities, government, or business, or marginalized communities like the LGBTQ+ claiming their voices, demanding full inclusion—all of that is challenging our place, our protected status as insiders and gatekeepers. We may even wonder whether in our culture, in our church, we are the ones exercising tyranny through our actions and words.

But the community that Jesus is calling into being, this community on a journey with him to Jerusalem, is just the opposite. It is a community based not on privilege, or status, on gender, or class or race, or sexuality. It is a community where status is reversed, where the master becomes the servant, where the vulnerable are embraced; the marginalized become the center. As we observe this Coming Out Sunday, may we envision and realize that new community.