[Yes, once again the Sermon Title has been changed. It was to have been Healing, Not Torture as this is the Sunday when our congregation joins so many others in the National Religious Coalition Against Torture in offering prayers and lighting candles to end the practice of this inhumanity. But, The Gospel of PRIDE and Healing seems to capture more accurately what I want to say.]

Yesterday, our congregation walked in the annual Santa Fe PRIDE Parade. Bedecked in Christ Lutheran Church Blue Tee-Shirts and the occasional Reconciling-in-Christ temporary tattoos (the Cross in the center of a series of hearts in the colours of the Rainbow), carrying newly printed Banners bearing our name, accompanied by the Canine Members of our congregation: Niko, Mr. Pumpkin, and Gracie; and we must not forget Chico who was with Sarah at our Booth in the Railyard … we joined the parade of hundreds of people walking, singing, dancing, laughing, smiling, waving … from the PERA parking lot to the Railyard Park.

The hardest part of a Parade, like anything in life, is getting started. There's always a lot of confusion … "Where is our Place? What Number in the line-up are we? Where's the Guy With the Bull Horn (or as we like to call it the Frog Horn)? Who's going to carry the Front Banner? Who's going to carry the Back Banner? Who's going to carry our Welcoming Statement?"

There's always a bit of humour too … two young adults appeared wearing colourful (and quite functional given the hot Sun) Rainbow Coloured Umbrella Hats. This was Ethan and Samara, the two producers of Umbrella Hat Productions from New York City who are using our church space for rehearsals prior to putting on two plays here in our city at El Museo Cultural in August: Proof by David Auburn and Iphigenia & Other Daughters by Ellen McLaughlin. They were in the company of several others in the company and even Ethan's mother … I had invited them to walk with us and they were indeed trying to do that, until one of our members tried to tell them they were in the wrong group and this was Christ Lutheran Church, to which they replied, "Yes, we know, we're part of you!" And, amid laughter, it all worked out.

There is a great sense of community that happens in all this … neighbors talk to neighbors, people are invited and are inviting, the community grows and gains strength, and if you think about it, it is the Gospel in action … those who have been and still are marginalized in life come together and in an audacious act walk down the middle of streets in cities throughout the world. We are proud to be part of PRIDE here in our city.

As we walked down the Paseo people applauded, clapped their hands, raised their voices … "Hey! It's the Lutherans!" "Yay! Christ Lutheran Church!" Many people from the sidewalk would look at me and just say, "Thank you." It's a humbling moment, quite.

One small group of people from the other side of the Paseo, they were hanging over a wall, hollered loudly, "You guys are the way Christians are supposed to be!"

Yes.

It's the story within the story as the community walks along.
It's just like today's Gospel Portion from Mark's telling of the Life and Times of Jesus in the last half of the 1st Century.

Jesus climbs out of a small boat on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and is immediately surrounded by a crowd. Through the crowd comes one of the leaders of the local synagogue, we even are told his name: Jairus. "My daughter's dying, please come and help!"
This is interesting isn't it? Jesus did not find an overwhelming wave of support and acclamation from his own synagogue. In a way, he himself was marginalized. And here comes one of the religious leaders to ask his help … it means that not all of the religious leadership opposed Jesus. This one pushes his way through the people, his need is overwhelming, his daughter, his child, the apple of his eye, is near death.

Yes, says Jesus, and he goes. Of course he does, it's the way it is supposed to happen, it's the way we are supposed to be.
And there's a parade, a huge walking-together of people who follow along and press close to him, they want to be near him, they sense that he is one who has the Presence of the Holy One, he is the source of Hope and Healing.

And the story within the story is that in this parade, a sort of 1st Century PRIDE, a woman who is ritually unclean, because she has been hemorrhaging for 12 years, this unnamed woman who lives on the margin of life, no one will touch her, no one will help her, she is left to the edge of existence, she pushes through the crowd (can you imagine the scene in your head? "Oooo, ick, yuck, what's she doing here … no, don't touch her … she didn't rub against you did she? Yuck!").

She comes near to Jesus, as near as she can get and just reaches out … maybe I can just touch the fringe of his garment … maybe that will do it. And she does. And it does. And Jesus stops, "Who did that?" And she finally admits it. She's afraid. They might stone her for this impropriety. She falls at his feet. And he calls her Daughter. Did you notice that in the reading? Jairus' daughter is still dying, the daughter of an important holy person in the community; and now Jesus tells this woman who is at the edge of life and in misery, he calls her by that familial name, "Daughter … go in peace, your faith has made you well."

And then the story within the story takes another turn. Because the parade has stopped, you see. Time, precious time, has gone by, and a runner comes from the home of Jairus and announces to him that his daughter has already died, don't bother the Teacher any more, there's nothing to do.

But Jesus overhears it, and stopping the Parade takes a few of his followers (Peter, James, John and the brother of James) and they walk to the house, they push past the wailers and mourners, puts everyone outside, takes Jairus and his wife alone with him, they go into the girls bedroom, he takes her by the hand and says in Aramaic "Talitha cum." She gets up, shakes off the sleep, her parents embrace her, tears abound, and then there's the wonderful line, the line that brings smiles, Jesus says, "You know, I think she must be hungry."

Yesterday afternoon as our congregation ended it's walk in the Parade, we went into the Railyard Park, joined the festivities, listened to the Mayor's Declaration, watched the 5 women who were the Marshals of the Parade receive their awards, and then went over to the Christ Lutheran Church Booth where people were coming by and receiving the gifts we had prepared … brochures, temporary tattoos, window stickers, two bottles of water for two women who were in dire thirst, Lutheran Key chains, one of the wind-up Luther Dolls, all of the 100 Rainbow Prayer Beads that the Wednesday group so lovingly made, and so many of the little cards that ask on the front "What Did Jesus Say About Homosexuality?" and we watched as people opened the card to show that the inside was blank … Every time the person said, "That's Right!" and as they read the information on the back about our congregation, this community of followers of Jesus who believe in the welcoming, open doors of the church … nearly everyone asked, "Can I keep this?" or "Can I have some to give to ________?"

And of course we said yes.

No we don't believe in torture. We don't believe in de-humanizing a human being. We don't believe that anyone should live at the margins of life.

We believe in healing. We believe in restoration and reconciling. We believe that the Parade of Love that we call the Gospel is how we who follow Jesus should live, yes, we nod our heads, this is they way Christians are supposed to be, and live, and act.

Let us pray.

Dearest Lord, in our times of need, grant us the presence of those who are in solidarity with us. In our moments of marginality, grant us the ability to act boldly on our own behalves. In our commitment to human liberation, grant us a spirit of sacrifice that will enable us to empower others to seek and to find their freedom in Christ Jesus. Amen.