A Sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Patricia Gillespie

Zechariah 12:8-10;13:1
Galatians 3:23-29
Luke 9:18-24
Psalm 63:1-8

A reading from the Acts of John:

94 . . . [Jesus] gathered all of us together and said: Before I am delivered up unto them let us sing an hymn to the Father, and so go forth to that which lieth before us. He bade us therefore make as it were a ring, holding one another's hands, and himself standing in the midst he said: Answer Amen unto me.

He began, then, to sing an hymn and to say: Glory be to thee, Father. And we, going about in a ring, answered him: Amen. Glory be to thee, Word: Glory be to thee, Grace. Amen.
Glory be to thee, Spirit: Glory be to thee, Holy One: Glory be to thy glory. Amen.
We praise thee, O Father; we give thanks to thee, O Light, wherein darkness dwelleth not. Amen.

95 Now why we give thanks, I say:

Now, if you follow my dance, see yourself in Me who am speaking.

Here ends the reading.

Jesus asks, "Who do you say that I am ?"

Is the man in this reading from the Acts of John the Jesus we know and love? Is this part of our Christian Tradition? Or is this some weird New Age dancing God?

Yes and yes. Yes. It is a part of our Christian tradition: The Acts of John was written by very early disciples of Jesus, though it is not part of what we today accept as Scripture. And yes again. It is "New Age" -- on or beyond the fringes of orthodoxy -- but it's the New Age of the second century instead of the twenty-first. It's a new look at who Jesus is.

Who do you say that Jesus is? Even today, there continues to be heated debate about the question, from the Jesus Seminar to the popular contemporary hymn, The Lord of the Dance.

A singing and dancing God? Well maybe. No one objected when Mark told us that after the Last Supper, before Jesus went to Gethsemane, he and his friends sang a hymn. And it would have been unusual if Jesus had not danced at the wedding at Cana.

Sometimes we don't see the picture that's been there before us all along until someone puts it right in front of us. That's what happens to Jesus's friends in today's gospel. So who is this Jesus? Peter answers correctly: Jesus is "the Messiah of God."

BUT . . . Shhhhh ! Don't tell anyone. Because Jesus is not the kind of Messiah people expect.

Instead of a conquering savior, Jesus tells us he's going to suffer, be rejected, and be killed before we get to the victory part. And he asks his friends -- that's us too -- to follow him on that miserable deadly journey.

"Hey. Wait a minute here, Jesus!" I want to shout, "Just who do you think I am that you ask me to follow you in your misery?"

Well, let me go ahead and ask: Who do people say that I am? That crazy woman who tries to walk five dogs at once? A priest in cowboy boots driving a pink jeep? Brendan's mom? Dru's daughter? A farmer, a horse person, or the raccoon lady? The misguided pastor of that gay church? How many different "me"s, false and true, are there? I begin to wonder if I know who I am.

And what about you? Think for a moment: Who would the crowd say that you are? Their old Sunday school teacher or scout leader? Some kinda liberal lawyer? The plumbing guy? That singing lady? A Democrat? A Norwegian? Does what the crowd thinks of you match what you think of yourself? Or do you too sometimes want to say, "Shhhhh! Don't say anything. No one's gonna understand who I really am!"? Does it matter if they know who we are? Do we even want the crowd to know who we really are?

And what about us? -- Who do people say that we are? All of us together here as a community, as the church? We may have thought about who we are. We even put our thoughts into mission statements. But who do people say that we are, that St. John's/Mary's/Paul's is?

That little church next to the big Catholic one? Oh -- I thought that place closed up years ago! The tiny Saturday group at the Presbyterian church? I didn't know there was an Episcopal Church here in town. Episcopal Church -- what's that? -- some kind of weird sect?

If we're lucky, someone might answer: Maybe it's those women who make the cute little Christmas trees? those folks who do the cool summer day camp?

Today's readings bring up lots of questions. But there are some answers there too.

The Apostle Paul isn't one to fool around with too many questions. He's direct and clear about who we are: "In Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith." We are in Christ. In our baptism we have "clothed ourselves with Christ" so that "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."

Today we miss power of that statement "no longer Jew or Greek." Paul is not talking simply about folks who happen to be from somewhere else -- as if we were to say "no longer Americans or Koreans." Neither is he talking about simple disagreement -- like Democrat or Republican. He's talking about radical equality for people who have done nothing to deserve it -- people who have lived outside of God's Law.

He's talking about overturning the Law itself-- about rejecting the fundamentals of his faith that made the Hebrew people special to God. The security of the Law, the discipline of the Law, prison of the Law -- are all no more.

Suddenly the Covenant -- the Special Deal between God and God's Chosen People -- is open to anyone who has faith in Christ. For a good Jew this is a scandal.

No longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, black or white, rich or poor, gay or straight, liberal or conservative, Protestant or Catholic, . . .

ALL our differences are dismissed, overwhelmed by our truest identity: our unity in Christ.

Now this doesn't mean that our uniquenesses all disappear. This is Paul, after all, who's writing. Just ask any good Southern Baptist what else Paul has to say about male and female. One in Christ, but still different.

What it does mean is that those things that once kept us apart no longer separate us: "all of [us] are one in Christ Jesus." All of us are equally Abraham's offspring, heirs of the promise, God's own children dressed up in our Beloved Brother's clothes.

Who, then, does our brother Jesus say that we are?

"If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it."

Jesus gives us a CHOICE about who we are. Do you want to follow Jesus? If so, it means denying our selves -- putting all those wonderful things that make us unique into second place. We let go of -- we lose -- our own lives. And that may feel like dying.

But it's only when we let go of our selves, stop clinging desperately to our differences, that we can put on Christ -- putting our unity in Christ before all else.

And that cross of self denial is not an easy burden to bear. It means we, like Christ, will suffer.

And it means we, like Christ, will live. "Those who lose their life for my sake will save it"

Having lost our life in Christ we find it again in Christ as individual unique members of the Body of Christ in the world -- that one Body in which there are many members each with unique individual gifts.

In Christ our unique differences no longer separate us: biblical literalist, liberal theologian, or lesbian feminist; cultured gentleman, battered woman, or slick politician; saint or sinner, well known or known to God alone; travelers with pink jeeps, dusty bare feet, or private airplanes; all who have faith are one in Christ.

Our uniqueness belongs to Christ. Our suffering belongs to Christ. Our dancing belongs to Christ.

So: Who do we say that we are? In Christ, we are God's children.

In Christ is the suffering and the dancing. In Christ is the losing and the saving of your self.

"If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me." "Now, if you follow my dance, see yourself in Me who am speaking."

May you see yourself in Christ. May the crowd see Christ in you.

Take up your cross and dance, my friends.