“But take care and watch yourselves closely, so neither to forget the things that your eyes have seen nor to let them slip from your mind all the days of your life; make them known to your children and your children’s children.”  (Deut. 4: 9)

The events of the Churchwide Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America which began two weeks ago tomorrow in Minneapolis are just now beginning to sink in and become absorbed into the new reality which was created.  In case you’ve been on vacation or otherwise seasonally- detached from the news of late, the voting members of our denomination’s highest legislative body, the ELCA churchwide assembly, voted with an overwhelming majority to reverse the policies prohibiting lesbian and gay persons who are in publically accountable, lifelong, monogomous relationships from serving as rostered leaders in this church.

In other words, the ELCA will now begin to recognize and validate those of us who are presently serving but for whom the exclusionary policies have been set aside locally — thanks to courageous synod bishops such as ours (Bishop Dean Nelson), will find ways to restore to the ministry roster those who have been removed due to this policy, and will begin to approve and roster candidates for ministry who have completed their training and are ready for placement in parishes and other ministry settings within the ELCA.  Indeed, a new day of grace has dawned in the ELCA, and for this many of us rejoice and give thanks, as what has truly become a non-issue for the majority can become the new normal for our denomination as it continues to be a bold witness to our Lutheran understanding of the gospel in our society and world at large.

There are, however, those as yet still in the ELCA for whom these historic decisions and reversals of policy are absolutely scandalizing and contrary to the Word of God, and who see such decisions as a departure not only from scripture but from centuries of tradition and dogma.   I thought of them as I reflected on this morning’s Gospel text, where the religious leaders come to Jesus with their question:  “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?”

There is no doubt: their question is sincere. The question comes from wanting to do the right thing. The question is about living in obedience to their understanding of Mosaic law as interpreted over the centuries by their religious tradition. They (the scribes and the Pharisees) were the ones in authority over these traditions.  So the question being asked was rather accusatory, pointing the finger at these of whom they disapproved.  And yet they did so because their consciences were bound to this tradition and to these laws of purity which called for the ritual cleansing of hands, of food, and – as St Mark writes – even of cups, pots, and bronze kettles.

The day is warm and the sanctuary is heating up, so I want to briefly share two stories from these past two weeks which illustrate and hopefully illuminate the truth of our scriptures this morning.

As the Churchwide Assembly began on Monday the 17th, we gathered for worship in the Minneapolis Convention Center. The theme for the week was “God’s Work. Our Hands” and 20 or more of us had been asked to offer our hands as communion servers, but also within that group of 20, 4 of us had been asked to serve as “twirlers.” Now, lest you think we had been given batons and white go-go boots (which probably would have been a lot more interesting!), we were given 15-20 foot fishing poles with multiple red streamers hanging from them that we were to keep “twirling” above the heads of the assembly as the procession entered into and traveled through the worship space. With our instructions to trace massive figure-eights in a continual fashion while surrounding the worshippers, we kept our streamers twirling in spirited fashion as the assembly sang “Hail thee festival day! Blest day to be hallowed forever; day when our Lord was raised, breaking the kingdom of death.”

Later during the service, as our Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson concluded his sermon, he asked each of us to turn to the person sitting next to us (who, in my case, was a fellow twirler and woman pastor from where-else-but-South Dakota!), and invited us to lay hands upon their head as he prayed the prayer for the reception of the Holy Spirit which we pray over the head of each confirmand as they publicly affirm their faith: “Father in heaven, for Jesus’ sake, stir up in your beloved child the gift of your Holy Spirit; confirm her faith, guide his life, empower her in her serving, give him patience in suffering, and bring her to everlasting life.”

Little did my fellow “twirler” and I know as we laid hands on each other’s heads, that we were both highly involved in caucus groups which were in total opposition to the other: she for the Lutheran CORE, advocating for no change in policy and me with Goodsoil, advocating for full inclusion of gays and lesbians in the life of the church. At the end of the week, after we had discovered who the other was, we greeted each other with a certain guardedness following the vote on full inclusion. But we marveled at the symbol we had been invited to share in as the week had gotten underway: in that opening procession as we invoked the twirling Penteocost-like flames of the Holy Spirit over the heads of the voting members, and then as we had laid hands on each other’s heads as the Presiding Bishop invoked the Holy Spirit yet again upon each one. God’s work was being done. And our hands, though perhaps perceived as dirty, “defiled” and dishonorable in the eyes of the other, were the means through which God’s presence was being stirred up in the other. The words of James come to mind: “Welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.” Indeed, we were being called to welcome the implanted word in one another – even amid our deep division and disagreements about whose hands were worthy or not worthy of serving in the ministry of the church. It was a profound grace moment.

Fast forward to this past Wednesday afternoon. Bishop Nelson had called together all the pastors and associates in ministry in our synod to come together to process the decisions made at Churchwide Assembly, to hear his perspective, and to share our joys and concerns with one another as rostered leaders of the synod. As Barbara and I arrived and took our seats in the worship space at the Synod office, we noticed a Bible sitting on the seat in between us and we looked to see whose it was. Well, it ended up belonging to a pastor who we knew would not be pleased with the decisions made by the ELCA Assembly, and – admittedly - for a moment we considered moving to another place. Until we both realized we were probably sitting exactly where we needed to be, beside this brother whose conscience was troubled by … well … frankly my inclusion in the church.

After the bishop presented all the details of the decisions made in Minneapolis, this pastor said with a heavy hand on my shoulder and with regretful acknowledgement in his voice that ours was a long-held and deep disagreement and that he could not and would not remain in a church which would disregard centuries of tradition and had abandoned the word of God and the words of Jesus himself concerning marriage. As the conversation unfolded, and as we listened to his pain-filled words, he finally turned to Barbara and said, “Now I’m the outsider in this church.” As a white, married, male heterosexual, traditional Lutheran pastor, he now was feeling betrayed, abandoned, and disregarded by his church. In the spirit of the reading from James which tells us this morning, “You must understand this, my beloved, let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness,” in the spirit of those words, we listened to his lament and we assured him that there were no gloating victors in this struggle for inclusivity. What the church has decided upon, we told him, is to vote out exclusivity of all kinds. No one’s conscience-bound beliefs are to be disregarded, whether one affirms inclusion of lesbians and gays or supports the traditional and long-held views of the church. This is where the church now stands on these matters. We bear the burden of our brothers and sisters whose hands do God’s work in ways that is different from ours. But we do not call those hands defiled. We do not call those hands disabled. We do not call those hands dirty nor dishonorable nor disrespectful. Later that day, I received an email from that pastor, telling me he thought the Holy Spirit surely had had a hand in our seating arrangement that afternoon. And once again, it was a profound grace moment.

Sisters and brothers, we are a church called to be doers of the Word and not hearers only. Rest assured, as we move forward there will be those for whom we will be damned if we do and damned if we don’t, but nonetheless we must faithfully and obediently do what we sense in our hearts is the calling and leading of God for us at this time. As one preacher at the Assembly reminded us, “The church does not have a mission. Rather, the mission of God has a church.”

Let us get busy then, being doers of the Word and not hearers only, and let us get our hands dirty — soiled in the Spirit — for the sake of God’s mission in and love for the world. This is a profound moment for the ELCA. A profound grace moment.

Amen.