what is your name?

Sermon preached Sunday, June 23rd, 2013

St. Cyprian's Episcopal Church

The Reverend Will Scott

Luke 8:26-39

from Teddy's Johnson's Lame Goat

Imagine this person struggling with internal arguments, over powered by strange forces far beyond his or anybody else’s control, compelled to live in the midst of tombs, surrounded by death, alienated from family and friends. Imagine what people said about him, how they described this naked tormented character, living in a graveyard. Oh the stories that must have been shared among passersby. Look out for that weird guy. Imagine his family and friends, how they too must have struggled to know what to do about their antisocial relative, the guilt they must have felt for not being able to help him, for attempting to forget him. Perhaps he had once been popular, had served a purpose, perhaps he had been a soldier in the Roman Army, until some aspect of being part of an imperial occupying force broke him --- perhaps he is suffering from some kind of PTSD? The demons that possess him call themselves legion after all, there was even one army that had a boar on its standard. Perhaps that’s why they wanted to go into the swine.

This story, like so many in scripture, raises more questions than answers. Thankfully Jesus was not intimidated by the challenge that stood before him as he stepped out of that boat on the shore. Jesus after all has already cast out seven demons from Mary Magdalene, raised a dead man, and just finished calming a storm that scared the heck out of experienced fisherman. If this were Man of Steel you might miss this next special effect as you blink inside your 3d glasses. But keep your eyes open. Watch what this super therapist, hero can do. Jesus has an affinity for outcasts and before uttering a single word is already attempting to extract the demons from this beleaguered man. Perhaps the most important sentence in the passage comes next, Jesus asks the man “What is your name?” but it’s the demons that respond. Their eagerness for attention is the hook that Jesus grabs hold of --- and instead of wrestling them to the ground, Jesus gives the demons what they want. Jesus gives the demons permission to enter the swine, and off they go into the lake. The swine herders, who have just inexplicably lost their livelihood by the way, run off to tell someone somewhere what just happened. When the townspeople follow them back to Jesus, the man is clothed and sitting at Jesus feet like many San Franciscans might wait on a yoga mat for class to begin, or patiently wait in line for a pastry at The Mill, ice cream at Bi-Rite, a performance at the African American Arts & Culture Complex or a coffee at Matching Half – the guy has gone from drunken Bay 2 Breakers runner to the epitome of civilized and sober in a matter of seconds. Of course the crowd is freaked out by Jesus, the text says they were seized with great fear, perhaps they were concerned that if this liberator/exorcist hung around too much longer, swine herders wouldn’t be the only ones out of a job. The freed man begs Jesus that he might be with him --- perhaps he wants to become a follower --- that would probably have been easier than doing what Jesus asks which is that he go home and tell folks the good that God had done for him. One wonders what kind of home the man might have to return to, and whether folks would be willing and able to welcome him with open arms. 

So here we are, St. Cyprian’s, here we are neighbors, friends and family, here we are Bishop Marc, Canon Stefani, here we are together. Are we possessed people making a home in a graveyard, casualties of imperialism run amok? Are we awestruck fisherfolk followers of the action hero Jesus hanging back to see what happens next? Are we swine herders wondering what we did wrong to have our livelihood lost in an epic battle? Are we town gossips coming to catch the latest titillating tale only to be seized by immobilizing fear?

I hope we are people curious about Jesus --- but wary of religions and politics that contribute to the marginalization of any person, possessed or liberated. I hope we are people that dig below the surface, that like Jesus are working our miracle before words come out of our mouths, I hope we ask one another regularly and deeply “what is your name?” whether at church or Lucky's, Bi-Rite or the Panhandle Park, Alamo Square or Divisadero Street, an SF Live Arts concert, or Free Community Dinner. “What is your name?” I hope we freely let go of our possessions for the liberation of others --- I hope we are people that beg to be with Jesus, that let our hearts’ desires be heard and acknowledged and yet are also courageous enough to look our oppressors, haters, and doubters in the eye and tell them what hope, healing, and freedom look like.

Our name, our identities are not the demons that have possessed us. We are not the failures and disappointments, the wounds of abuse or the casualties of a long forgotten war. Our home is not a graveyard. Jesus who looks each of us in the eye and asks us our name, knows who we really are, even when the demons speak louder than our true voice, Jesus loves us and liberates each and every one of us from all that oppresses, intimidates or possesses --- giving us dignity and new life.

There is a poem that an artist, Teddy Johnson, introduced to me long ago.  Teddy’s sister Jenny Johnson is an old high school friend of mine from Frederick County, Virginia. Jenny used to teach at Mission High School next to Dolores Park and is a friend of your daughter Pilar, Bishop Marc, I think they worked at the UVA young writers summer program many years ago.

This poem has come to my mind many times during my four years at St. Cyprian’s, especially in light of today’s gospel. The poem itself is by Rumi and is called The Lame Goat.

You have seen a herd of goats

going down to the water.

The lame and dreamy goat

brings up the rear.

There are worried faces about that one,

but now they're laughing,

because look, as they return,

that one is leading.

There are many different ways of knowing.

The lame goat's kind is a branch

that traces back to the roots of presence.

Learn from the lame goat,

and lead the herd home.

Thank you St. Cyprian’s for teaching me some of the many ways of knowing --- keep dreaming and may you lead all of us home.