Solidarity Sunday – October 14, 2018
Mark 10: 17-31
Over the last few weeks, the Jesus of Mark’s Gospel has been telling us over and over again that in the Reign of God, the first shall be last and the last shall be first. In last week’s gospel, Jesus tried to make it as plain as plain can be. In order to enter the Reign of God come as a child, the least of these; without status, without money and without claims of goodness. But this is a hard lesson. The disciples don’t get it. They keep fighting over who is the best and will therefore be first in the Reign of God. And if Jesus’ disciples are having a hard time, it is no wonder that others are missing the point as well. In today’s gospel, a rich young man runs up to Jesus and asks him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life.” He wants to know what he needs to do to assure his place in the Kingdom? Jesus’ answer is simple and to the point. Jesus sees that he has obeyed all the commandments. This young man is right with the law and no doubt, a respected member of the Jewish community. But if he wants to take his place in the Reign of God, there is one thing more he needs to do. Jesus tells him to sell everything he has, all those things that mark him as a person of high status and privilege, and justify his claim to be one of the good ones. And then, Jesus says, after you have done that, then come join me. Day after day, in Mark’s gospel, Jesus has eaten with the poor and marginalized, lifted them up, been challenged by them and loved them. “Follow me” Jesus says to the young rich man. Join me in solidarity with the outcast, the marginalized, the rejected, the reviled, the maligned, the shamed, the discounted and the ignored.
Which brings me to our rainbow ribbons and our celebration of Solidarity Sunday. Solidarity is a social term that refers to the ties in a society that bind people together as a supportive unit. The most basic of these ties is kinship but work, education, lifestyle, religion and more also structure the “ties that bind” us. And these “ties that bind us”, they are foundational. They give members of the in-group some assurance of access to human rights – though this access is unequally distributed. These rights have to do with basic needs —the right to food, shelter and healthcare. And they have to do with dignity – the right to work, the right to participate in political structures, the right to love and be loved and the right to be free from threats of violence.
Catholic social teaching from St. Francis to Pope Francis has taken this idea of solidarity and stretched its meaning in a way that challenges us to step beyond “these ties that bind” to a consideration of those who find themselves outside traditional circles of solidarity. The focus here is on solidarity with the poor and an effort to expand the circles of justice and dignity that create our social networks so that those excluded by our economic structures might be included. This is a focus that resonates with today’s Gospel and gives rise to questions like how poor does one have to be to be in solidarity with the poor? Surely Jesus didn’t mean for us to give up everything? In other words, what does it really mean to be in solidarity with the poor in a way that doesn’t just make a show of standing up but instead, actually creates economic justice?
In 1995, Dignity USA started Solidarity Sunday stretching the meaning and challenge of solidarity even more. Dignity USA asked the church and its members to take an active stand for the rights and dignity of LGBTQI persons including their right to be free from the fear of violence and persecution. Dignity USA called the church to an active solidarity with its LGBTQI members challenging the traditional standards of goodness that governed a person’s participation in the life of the church and, even more, their inclusion in the Reign of God. Back in 1995, the Catholic Church and, in particular, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, was struggling for clarity concerning the rights and dignity of people who identified as LGBTQI, and still today they struggle. But even back then, the people of the church were largely supportive of inclusion. On the first Solidarity Sunday, on October 8, 1995, and every year since, when we, the people, pin on our rainbow ribbons and join together to worship, we affirm that our LGBTQI sisters and brothers, friends, neighbors and strangers can express their sexuality physically, in a unitive manner that is loving, life-giving, life-affirming and consistent with Christ’s teaching. But Dignity USA takes this enactment of solidarity a step further. It is not enough – echoing the words of Jesus – to follow the commandments and wear rainbow ribbons.
Today, as an extension of our Sunday celebration, we are asked to take a pledge that involves a commitment to enact our solidarity in the public square. When we take Dignity USA’s Solidarity Pledge, we promise to stand up and be counted in a public, practical way. We promise to publicly interrupt hurtful, bigoted jokes made by family, friends, neighbors and strangers, whether we are at our Thanksgiving table or in a crowded bar because bigotry and words that hurt are not funny. We promise to speak out against dehumanizing actions when we see them, in the places where we work, at our schools, in our churches, at coffee shops and in our political discourse because violent speech leads to violence. We promise to overcome our own fears and to intervene when we see physical violence against LGBTQI persons whether we know them or not because violence against any person is violence against all people. These are hard demands given our very human desire for easy ministries and comfortable challenges. We are, all of us, rich in blessings and it is hard to step into the risks this pledge requires.
But we in this community are lucky. We worship with people who have lived the Dignity USA Solidarity pledge in their lives making the Reign of God manifest in our presence. In March of 2001, Jim Green and Bill Diederich were honored for their dedication to the mission of Dignity USA over many years. They were honored for giving generously of their time, talents and their treasure. Jesus says in today’s gospel, “go sell what you own, and give your money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven.” At the time of their recognition, Jim and Bill had given the largest single donation to that date in support of Dignity USA. And since then we have all borne witness to their ongoing dedication. And they are not alone. There are many in this community who claimed their identities as LGBTQI persons at a time of great risk. They did this in solidarity with their friends and with future generations, creating a better way and a better world. There are many in this community who have loved and shepherded their children with pride and thankfulness, celebrating their unique and wonderful identities. And there are even those among us who have stood for the rights of LGBTQI persons on the local and national stage, in politics, in the military and even on the national news.
However, if you are watching the news at all – and you should be because it does not help to stick you head in the sand – you cannot miss the fact that Jesus’ call for solidarity with the marginalized is as relevant today as it was when Mark’s Gospel was written, as it was 23 years ago on the first Solidarity Sunday and as it was over 17 years ago when Dignity USA honored Jim and Bill. The kind of solidarity that Jesus calls us to in Mark’s Gospel, can still cost you your life. Last Thursday was National coming out day. One would think, after all these years and all the sacrifices of the past that things would be different but still today, for many, claiming your identity publicly, remains a costly solidarity. My Facebook feed on Thursday was filled with people celebrating their own identities and affirming their support for their LGBTQI friends and family. But also, on that day, a friend of mine made a public proclamation. In her proclamation, she identified what coming out would cost her; relationships with family and friends, job opportunities, a loss of privacy and more. But she says that it was time, it was time. The support expressed on her post was endless, friends a hundredfold but with persecutions. Because those friends, even a hundredfold, will not change the consequences for her as a theologian. There will be jobs she can no longer apply for because she is openly gay. For now. In the meantime, we – her supportive friends and family – witnessed the camel making its way through the eye of the needle. It is possible.
This type of solidarity is a costly commitment. Jesus knows this and so does the rich young man. Recognizing and acknowledging all the things and possessions that give us status, mark us as good and create a life of privilege – our money – yes – but also the color of our skin, our socio-economic class, our education, our degrees, our jobs, our titles, our sexuality, our gender, our children, our fields, our homes and our businesses. Recognizing and acknowledging this privilege, holding it lightly, releasing the hold it has on us and leaning into the risky business of living – this is no small task. The young man is shocked when he thinks about all he has to lose and he goes away grieving.
On this Solidarity Sunday, I am profoundly grateful for the way the world has been changed by the costly solidarity of so many in this room, across this country and around the world. It changed my life, it is changing the world and it allows us all to live in hope.