Introduction
Over the years I have travelled a bit for holidays and with MCC. This year Ian and I spent two wonderful weeks in France. It was great. We stayed in a wonderful medieval city called Dinan, visited the historic Mt St Michel and enjoyed the delights of Northern Brittany. Things were different – the weather, for example was wonderful, shops open at different times, there were lots of boulangerie/patisserie where one can buy wonderful breads and even more wonderful cakes in the morning. Our dog was allowed into restaurants and many tourist attractions and French supermarkets were a marvel. Despite these differences and despite the fact that Ian and I haven’t got very good French we really enjoyed ourselves and whilst we felt a bit different, the differences weren’t too pronounced. I even got up early and went to Mass on each Sunday and felt quite at home.
I was contrasting this with my experiences in America. I have been to North America four times and each time I felt like a fish out of water. We attempt to speak the same language but Americans need me to repeat something three or four times in order to be understood. I learnt the hard way that in Dallas you ask for a “rest room” not a “toilet”. We use the same words but in different ways; I am happy walking, Americans use cars. On my first visit to America some friends and I were walking to a supermarket, a mile down the road from the hotel complex we were staying in. We were in the middle of the desert which is Phoenix and we were stared at by people in their cars who thought we were mad walking! When I attend American worship, both in MCC and in other churches, I really feel that I am an alien visiting from a different galaxy. American worship is louder, more expansive, more emotional and considerably longer than I am used to! Things don’t seem to make sense in my mental map the way they do here and I feel totally lost. I also find that I become more “English” than normal and start to demand tea at 4pm!
Overall I feel like a stranger in a strange land.
The Psalm
Our reading today from Psalm 137 has echoes of this feeling of being a stranger in a strange land. Due to some disastrous foreign policy initiatives the Jewish people had been exiled from their home. The leaders of the people and the educated middle classes had all been taken to Babylon – in present day Iraq. There, for 70-odd years they languished in exile. A new generation was born that did not know Israel and which had to learn of their culture without reference to the Land or the Temple.
The Jewish people then, and now, have a particular affinity with the land of Israel, and to worship God and to praise God away from that Land during a time of national disaster when the very end of the Jewish people was a possibility, was something almost impossible for them to do. Their captors, knowing of the great musical tradition of the Jewish people, wanted to hear their songs, but they felt they could not sing the Lord’s song in a strange land. This has been a theme of exiled people throughout history. And it is a theme we can have some sympathy with.
Our People – An Exiled People
We too are strangers in a strange land for two main reasons: firstly, as Christians. Our culture is very tolerant to a range of spiritual paths and traditions but rather hostile to Christianity. We are seen – with good reason - for being intolerant and oppressive. New Agers don’t like us as we stress commitment and discipleship, not warm fuzzy feel good moments which don’t actually challenge or change us. Being a Christian means being different from the culture around us and that gives us a sense of exile as we realise that our eternal home is not in this world.
But there is a greater sense of exile for many of us. If we are lesbian, bisexual, gay or transgendered then we will have always had a feeling of being different, of not quite fitting in. I grew up knowing I was different but it wasn’t until my teenage years that I began to have a sense of what that difference was or to have a vocabulary to describe it.
But this feeling of exile is increased when you consider how our society and the church treats us. When I grew up there were no positive role models for lgbt people in the media – we were objects of scorn and derision. The churches said it was wrong; some said we could be healed, some that we had not to act on our feelings and others that we could be exorcised of them. All of this leads to a terrific sense of exile where we are unable, even if we want, to sing the Lord’s song in this strange land.
Singing the Song
And yet, that song won’t stop going around in our heads. St Augustine said that our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God. We may ignore the pull in our hearts for worship and authentic spirituality, but eventually we have to give in, we have to find a way of singing the Lord’s song which we need to do, but to find fellow singers who are good for us. This desire to sing the Lord’s song in our strange land has brought us to MCC and other congregations like us.
So how can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?
First, we need to believe that God loves us and wants the best for us. This means letting go of ideas that God is out to get us! It means realising that when God looked at Creation and said “this is good” He meant you and me as well. We are created in the very image of God, and that creation includes our gender identity and our sexuality. We are created to be who God wanted us to be. To try and deny that within us is to deny the gift and wisdom of God. It means realising that God wants the best for us, not second or third best, but the very best. So often in our relationships and friendships we settle for less than the best because of our low self image. If we really believe we are created in God’s own image, then our self image will increase.
Second, we need to believe that God does not condemn us or want us to feel guilty. I was raised Catholic so I am good at guilt! Friends of mine who were raised in House Churches reckon they do guilt well too! Now don’t get me wrong, guilt can be a healthy emotion. When we have hurt someone, when we have done something we know to be wrong, our conscience makes us feel guilty so that we can do something about it. The purpose of guilt is not to torment us, but to make us make amends, to repent – which means to turn around, to seek forgiveness. Often this God-given aspect of our personality is used against us by forces and powers which rejoice in keeping us low and miserable. We don’t need to feel guilty about loving someone else ever. Love is about wanting the best for another and there is never a sin in that. We don’t need to feel guilty about how we express our love – for love is always good. We don’t need to feel guilty about who we are created to be – as we are made in God’s image. Guilt misused is pathological and serves only to drag us down.
Thirdly, we need to surround ourselves with other Christians who believe the same. We need to make sure we enjoy what the Bible calls “fellowship” with other Christians who know that they, and us, are created in God’s own image, that God wants the best for us and that we don’t need to be riddled with guilt. We need people who will reinforce positive, healthy spirituality in our lives, not people who will drag us down because they don’t understand Christianity or because they have a warped version of it.
And the last way of learning to sing the Lord’s song in a strange land is the most obvious, we must actually sing it! This means we tell others of what God is doing in our lives and in our church. It means we help with the publicity drives that we plan as a church and we tell our friends. It means we help give out leaflets and we welcome those who are amongst us for the first time.
God has called us out of darkness to sing his wonderful song. We have the responsibility to help welcome others into this light in the same way that we ourselves were welcomed. We have been blessed that we might be a blessing to others.
Amen.
This sermon was first preached in the Metropolitan Community Church of Manchester. Click here for further information.