2nd Sunday after
Pentecost: June 10, 2012
Mark 3:20-35
Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith
*Many thanks to Anna Carter Florence and her book "Preaching as Testimony" (Westminster John Knox Press, 2007) for introducing me to the story of Jarena Lee. Thanks also to Dr. Craig Satterlee for his Logjam Appointment which provided the inspiration for this sermon.*
Grace and peace to you
from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Jarena Lee
was born in Cape May, New Jersey, on February 11, 1783. She was most likely
born to free parents, but at the age of seven her family’s poverty meant she
was hired out as a servant and would not see her family again for fourteen
years. This was effectively a legal form of slavery, and an all-too common
African-American story of the time.
As a result
of these difficult beginnings, Jarena struggled with depression and feelings of
abandonment her whole life, but in 1804, at the age of twenty-one, she moved to
Philadelphia to gain a fresh start. Her first order of business was to find a
place to worship, and that she did, at the African Methodist Episcopal Church
headed by Pastor Richard Allen. Upon finding her church family, she wrote,
“This is the people to whom my heart unites.”
But just
three weeks into her time at the A.M.E. church, Jarena experienced a strange
thing. Just as the preacher was beginning his Sunday sermon, Jarena writes:
“That
moment, though hundreds were present, I did leap to my feet and declare that
God, for Christ’s sake, had pardoned the sins of my soul…For a few moments I
had the power to exhort sinners, and to tell of the wonders and of the goodness
of Him who had clothed me with His salvation. During this time the minister was
silent, until my soul felt its duty had been performed, when he declared another
witness of the power of Christ to forgive sins on earth, was manifest in my
conversion.”
Now a
parishioner leaping to her feet in the middle of a sermon would certainly get
our attention today here at Bethany, but in 1804 there were some very good reasons
why this would be more than odd—most notably, the fact that Jarena Lee was a woman.
If a man had
leaped to his feet in such a manner, one might have expected him to be called
in to the pastor’s office, perhaps taken under his wing and nurtured into an assistant
preacher. But women were not only forbidden from being preachers in the year
1804—they weren’t even allowed to speak in church. This event, therefore, was
for Jarena and her church community nothing more than an exciting anomaly in an
otherwise normal Sunday worship service. No one called Jarena into the pastor’s
office. No one recommended seminary or suggested she call the candidacy
committee. No one took her seriously, because Jarena was a woman, and of
course, God doesn’t work that way.
A few years
later, however, in 1811, it happened again. Jarena writes:
“On a
certain time, an impressive silence fell upon me, and I stood as if some one
was about to speak to me, yet I had no such thought in my heart.—But to my utter
surprise there seemed to sound a voice which I thought I distinctly heard, and
most certainly understand, which said to me, “Go preach the Gospel”! I
immediately replied aloud, “No one will believe me.” Again I listened, and
again the same voice seemed to say—“Preach the Gospel; I will put words in your
mouth, and will turn your enemies to become your friends.”
This time,
Jarena began to seriously doubt her sanity. Maybe this was Satan speaking, and
not God! After all, there were exactly zero “lady pastors” in her life to act
as role models or mentors. Women preachers were as unbelievable as unicorns or
the Cubs winning a World Series. How could she be certain this was God calling
her? Just to be sure, Jarena went in to visit her pastor, Richard Allen.
Pastor Allen
listened carefully as Jarena explained that God had called her to preach. And
then he coolly commented that “the Discipline knew nothing at all about it—that
it did not call for women preachers.” Call it tradition, call it church
authority, call it “good order”, but for Jarena Lee, the answer was, “God doesn’t work that way.”
So Jarena
went home and did what many a frustrated woman preacher has done: she married
one instead. Sadly, just six years later her husband, the Reverend Joseph Lee,
died, leaving her with two small children. And Jarena couldn’t ignore the call
any longer.
So she went
back to visit Pastor Allen, and this time he granted her permission to hold
“prayer meetings” and to “exhort” but of course never to preach. Why? Because, of course, God doesn’t work that way.
But one
Sunday in worship, the preacher stood up and read the text from Jonah and
then—in Jarena’s words—he seemed to “lose the Spirit.” So Jarena leaped to her
feet and interrupted the preacher.
“I told them
I was like Jonah; for it had been then nearly eight years since the Lord had
called me to preach his gospel to the fallen sons and daughters of Adam’s race,
but that I had lingered like him, and delayed to go at the bidding of the
Lord…During the exhortation, God made manifest his power in a manner sufficient
to show the world that I was called to labor according to my ability, and the
grace given unto me.”
When she sat
down, Jarena braced herself to be thrown out of the church or at least publicly
reprimanded. Instead, Pastor Allen stood up and told the congregation that God had
changed his mind. He now believed
that Jarena was indeed called preach! And really, what choice did he have?
There she was: a unicorn; a preaching
woman right there in their midst.
After that
day, Jarena went on to become the first woman licensed to preach in the A.M.E.
church (a full 150 years before the ELCA, by the way) and to have a thirty year
preaching career. She was also only the second African-American woman to have a
book published—a book in which she chronicles how she "travelled two
thousand three hundred and twenty-five miles, and preached one hundred and
seventy-eight sermons.” God does work
that way, it turns out.
Jarena Lee’s
story highlights the way we so often get caught up in our judgments about how
God can and does work in the world. It wasn’t too long ago that our
denomination said: “Women can’t preachers! God doesn’t work that way!” And yet here
I stand—along with Angela and Mary Carol and a host of other female Lutheran preachers
who came before us.
Women’s
ordination is generally a non-issue for us today, but there are certainly others
we get hung up on.
Gay people
can’t get married! God doesn’t work that way.
You can’t just
welcome everybody to communion! God doesn’t work that way.
You can’t
just feed people, because they’ll keep coming back! God doesn’t work that way.
You can’t
heal people on the Sabbath, Jesus! God doesn’t work that way.
You can’t send
fishermen to cast out demons, Jesus! God doesn’t work that way.
You can’t
forgive everyone, all their sins,
Jesus, and in such a dramatic and public way! God doesn’t work that way.
Most often,
of course, when we say “God doesn’t work that way” what we really mean is “the
church doesn’t work that way” or “our culture doesn’t work that way” or “our
government doesn’t work that way”…or, if we’re honest: “I don’t feel comfortable when God works that way.”
This is what
is happening in the scene from Mark chapter 3 which we heard this morning.
Jesus was surrounded by the crowds, who were so eager to see him he couldn’t
even find time to eat. He was healing people right and left, even on the
Sabbath, and even when they were unclean. He was eating with tax collectors and
sinners. He was silencing demons and teaching with authority. But others were
uncomfortable with Jesus working like this. In fact, his family heard the
rumors that he was out of his mind, and they showed up to haul him home.
And the
scribes—well, the scribes were like the pastor and other church authorities who
told Jarena Lee “our discipline doesn’t call for woman preachers”. The scribes
took one look at what Jesus was doing and said “God doesn’t work that way. This must be Beelzebul. He’s obviously possessed
by a demon!” In other words: “You’re making us uncomfortable, Jesus.”
And Jesus’
response is one that should make us sit up and take notice.
There are
many sins which we humans might consider to be unforgivable. And yet Jesus has
said that the one thing God cannot
forgive is blaspheming against the Holy Spirit—which, contrary to what I
thought when growing up, has nothing to do with spouting four-letter words. Blaspheming
against the Holy Spirit, as seen in this Gospel passage, is denying the work of God. Blaspheming
against the Holy Spirit is what happens when we take a look at who Jesus is
healing, who God is forgiving, who God is calling to preach the Gospel, or how the
Spirit is moving in a place and among a people and say: “Nope. God doesn’t work
that way. That must be Satan.”
Jesus
directed these strong words to a people who thought they knew everything. This was very bad news for the scribes and
authority figures who thought they
had the power to decide how God works and when. For there he was, standing
before them: Jesus, son of a carpenter and Son of God; Jesus, healer of our
souls; Jesus, friend of the friendless; Jesus, our brother; Jesus Christ, our
Savior, come to set the captives free.
And this
Jesus, crucified and risen, reveals to us the Good News that God does indeed work this way:
God forgives
beyond our deepest hopes.
God heals
against anyone’s rules.
God creates
family where we least expect it.
God saves us
from our own judgments.
God seeks
out the lost.
God makes a
way out of no way.
God is still
speaking—and still shattering our expectations.
Wherever we
see healing, wholeness, forgiveness and reconciliation rising out of judgment,
fear, and brokenness, we see Jesus Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit, and
we can say without a doubt, “Yes, indeed God does work that way!”
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