“Receiving the Other”

Rev Dennis Ryle 18/07/2021

Readings - Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

There are two great phrases that have grabbed my attention from our set gospel reading today

I’ve put them under the heading of “Receiving the other” and they draw on two themes that are repeated throughout the chaos and confusion that is the setting for Mark’s gospel.

Seems apt for our time as each day’s news reveals the chaos and confusion that  managing the pandemic has wrought amongst us.

The two phrases are “compassion” and “crossing over.”

6:34 As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

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6:53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at   and moored the boat.

Compassion – etymology

"feeling of sorrow or deep tenderness for one who is suffering or experiencing misfortune," mid-14c., compassioun, literally "a suffering with another," from Old French compassion "sympathy, pity" (12c.), from Late Latin compassionem (nominative compassio) "sympathy," noun of state from past participle stem of compati "to feel pity," from com "with, together" (see com-) + pati "to suffer" (see passion).

Latin compassio is an ecclesiastical loan-translation of Greek sympatheia (see sympathy). Sometimes in Middle English it meant a literal sharing of affliction or suffering with another. An Old English loan-translation of compassion was efenðrowung.

The word in the original Greek language means: To be moved in 'the inward parts,' especially the nobler entrails – the heart, lungs, liver, and kidneys. These gradually came to denote the seat of the affections"

Compassion is not the same as pity. Pity is standing in a high place and looking down on someone in a low place and feeling sorry for them. Compassion on the other hand, is a feeling inside of our bodies and hearts that stirs us in such a way that causes us to move into action. It could be described as an uncomfortable feeling where our innards are being wrenched on behalf of the person in need. (I perceive it is why my colleague across the valley has been sleeping outside the church in a tent in order to raise awareness and advocacy for the homeless of our city)
We see it as Jesus responds to one individual in the opening stories of Mark’s gospel. It sets the stamp of motivation on the one Mark identifies as God dwelling amongst us. The focus of divine compassion is a man, who according to traditional law, is an outcast in society and unclean.

It is the same compassion we witness in today’s account.
The disciples have returned from their field education projects, practising teaching and healing after the manner of their supervisor, Jesus, handing in their reports, learning from critique and encouragement.

Then Jesus says "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.

The deserted place doesn’t stay that way, however. Even before the exhausted band of Jesus arrives, the needy crowd has got there before them! Do they turn the boat around and flee?

No, Jesus “had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. “

Then there’s an interlude. Jesus feeds the multitudes, sends the disciples out to sea while he has some hours of solitude. In the dark hours of the morning, while the disciples are straining at the oars against a hard wind, Jesus puts the wind up them by walking to them on the water.

They “cross-over” to Gennesaret and repeat compassionate ministry to many.

Mark’s theme of “crossing over” appears many times and seems to be a companion to “compassion”

Crossing over the boundaries that separate “clean” from “unclean,”
“acceptable” to “unacceptable”,  “of us” and “not of us,” of the law” and “not of the law,” “Jew and Gentile.”
 

I grew up in the 50s, second generation Australian, with a little bit of the hangover of British class consciousness. It was in the genes!

Consequently we knew how to keep our heads down and not seek to rise above our “working class” station.

I experienced this effect as a continual battle of both fear and passive resistance to those who exercised authority, real or perceived, over me. Teachers, bosses, policemen, politicians – I hid from them all and watched them cautiously from a metaphorical distance. Not so much now!

I gradually learned that in an egalitarian society one cannot keep one’s head down, especially when the kind of compassion shown by Mark’s Christ begins to stir within you.

Compassion of this kind forces one to cross boundaries.

I grew up with a friend who had cerebral palsy. His awkward gait marked him apart. When we went out, people would give us a wide berth. Once someone considered him drunk and I remember the hot indignation I publicly expressed on his behalf. No mum, I did not keep my head down.

I worked in retail for a while. I was supposed to sell stuff. My bosses were displeased with the amount of time I spent in conversation with customers and that did not return the required sales figures. I weas more of a problem solver than a salesman. So they crossed me over into repair and warranty service where I could do pastoral counselling to my heart’s content.

Compassion and crossover belong together.

First nations peoples honour this dynamic.

Alexander Shaia tells us “The Lakota people of North America have a concept called the heyoeka, or “the other.” A person identified as a heyoeka, whether male or female, becomes an official “opposite,” feeling and thinking and expressing what others will not. The heyoeka dresses in heavy clothes in the summer and lightweight fabrics in the winter, walks backwards, laughs when others are sad, and is sad when others are happy. His or her most important role is served when the people are in deliberation at council. As a decision begins to gain approval, the heyoeka must speak loudly and strongly to the opposite opinion.”

I contend that any local church community benefits from a heyoeka amongst them. Someone who is “other” than the norm, who shoots questions and challenges from left field and compels us to visit again and again the core values of the gospel we live.

In retirement one reminisces over all the church communities one has participated in and the sharpest memories are of those that have served the role of the “other.” They are the ones that often quickened the focus of the churches’ witness and mission. They are the ones who ignited initiatives that enhanced community service.

Yes the “other” can cause disruption and conflict. Crossing over has its challenges.

Remember Mark’s gospel is a child of conflict and tumult arising from a church community in disarray as Nero’s troops hunted Rome’s Christian’s in flight from the Emperor’s cruel extermination decree. Imagine maintaining church order under such circumstances. Mark’s account of the Passion contrasts the choices before such followers under pressure – betray the cause like Judas, deny knowledge of Jesus like Peter, desert the community like the disciples – or stay with Jesus to the end, like the women who had travelled with him.

We have reflected before on the concept of Ubuntu across several indigenous nations of southern Africa – “I am because we are.”    When someone does something wrong, they are taken to the centre of the village and surrounded by their tribe for two days while they speak of all the good the offender has done. They believe in the essence of  goodness that abides in each person, in spite of the ill that is perceived as a cry for help. They unite in this ritual to encourage the offender to reconnect with their true nature. The belief is that unity and affirmation have more power to change behaviour than shame and punishment.

 (Refer to Sycamore Tree Project – Acacia)

Sounds a lot like crossing over and compassion coming together!

Retirement has challenged me yet again on this notion of crossing over. More than two decades serving a small church community that is progressive and inclusive in ethos was a good fit for us. In leaving, we have moved into a climate that is conservative and with clearly marked boundaries. We have crossed over to Gennesaret and are seeking to make our compassionate contribution as we are able.

I think this is a challenge for progressive church communities. My own denomination has been exercised over its loss of individual nomenclature in the census. It is urging us, come August, to use our denominational name when asked our religion (not just “Christian”).  I have reminded our leaders that we were born to die and “sink into the Body of Christ at large.” Yes, we are bound by the demands of administrative red tape, but it must never define an impenetrable boundary that we cannot crossover for the sake of Christ’s mission.

The same applies for the theological boundary that separates progressive and conservative church communities. We have witnessed and experienced and contributed to Christ’s boundless compassion in each. Personally, we take to heart this poem that came to my notice in my early years of ministry.

“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him in!”

Edwin Markham

Let the Apostle Paul have the last say in today’s passage seeking to heal the divide between Jews and Gentiles. I’ve taken the liberty to update it somewhat!

Ephesians 2:11-22

The Message

11-13 But don’t take any of this for granted. It was only yesterday that you outsiders to God’s ways had no idea of any of this, didn’t know the first thing about the way God works, hadn’t the faintest idea of Christ. You knew nothing of that rich history of God’s covenants and promises in Israel, hadn’t a clue about what God was doing in the world at large. Now because of Christ—dying that death, shedding that blood—you who were once out of it altogether are in on everything.

14-15 The Messiah has made things up between us so that we’re now together on this, both progressives and conservatives. He tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance. He repealed the law code that had become so clogged with fine print and footnotes that it hindered more than it helped. Then he started over. Instead of continuing with two groups of people separated by animosity and suspicion, he created a new kind of human being, a fresh start for everybody.

16-18 Christ brought us together through his death on the cross. The Cross got us to embrace, and that was the end of the hostility. Christ came and preached peace to you outsiders and peace to us insiders. He treated us as equals, and so made us equals. Through him we both share the same Spirit and have equal access to the Father.

19-22 That’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home.

Crossover with compassion, that we may receive the other!