The common sermon, at this point (I grabbed these two paragraphs from this one) makes it clear that Jesus’ point was and is that we must relinquish our “rights” in order to advance God’s kingdom through sacrificial service — an idea captured well in a paraphrase of Matthew 5:41: “And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life” (The Message).

The common sermon is, roughly, right… but it totally misses something really deadly, really dangerous and shocking image in this passage.

Roman soldiers were forbidden to marry. There was a reputation (deserved or not) that continues to this day that a Roman soldier was, if you will, a sexual risk – and Jewish ideas about gentiles and forbidden sex furthered this image. Being left alone with this guy was dangerous. I have to admit that “oh, that’s ok, I’ll stay with you another mile, sir…” sounds like a come-on. Why would you tell your followers that they should go not just the required one mile but even volunteer for two?

Even if this is not an “authentically Jesus” statement (I know some want to doubt such things) the implied content – given the cultural perception of the soldiers – is very interesting. I think this, taken alongside the Centurion and his Boy (more here), also in the Matthew Gospel, brings us some interesting images to think about.

I know no one has asked. Many of you may not even know or care to know: Sunday the 27th is Gay Pride Day (or GLBTQF&F Pride day or something) in most major cities. Other cities will hold their parades on earlier weekends in June – so that more people could go to some larger festival that last weekend of the month. Buffalo always has their parade the first weekend.

How do we reach them? It’s too easy for the Neocons and the Pharisees in all denominations to just write off the sinners with some well-chosen and funny words related to sex acts. One conservative Episcopal priest – now a prominent Antiochian Orthodox priest who wrote this in their own (Antiochian) magazine – “Do people actually do… that?” He calls it the “Ick factor”. (I’ll bet he is a LOT of fun in confession!)

Here are people in God’s image. What are you going to do about it?

I once preached a Sermon at St Gregory of Nyssa Church on a Gay Pride Sunday. Several blocks away were hundreds of thousands of people who don’t feel welcomed in Church ignoring not only us – a liberal Episcopal parish – but every other Church as well. How do you get the Gospel to them? If you’re in Church on Sunday, depending on what kind of Church you have and what sort of city you live in, you may see some guests – or you may not. What can you do?

We often turn our eyes to the fate of the Woman Caught In Adultery and About to be Stoned. It’s an easy story to pick. We are quick to point out the sins of the woman and then Our Lord’s forgiveness of her. And then we pound home the punch line, his saying “Go, and sin no more.”

It’s logical, of course, to focus on this story – not only because of the way that we can focus on sexual sin and say “Go and Sin No More”, but because we can then, I think, learn our lesson: let he who is without sin cast the first stone. But few of us forget our stones while remembering our sin. It’s much easier to preach as if each of us were, himself, Christ, saying “GO! – And Sin No More!” As if that were the point: Get out of my Church! But sin no more.

There is another scene that it may do better for us to focus on: Our Lord at a Dinner party in the Pharisee’s house. There is great feasting and these men of learning, having banished the women hence – as was the custom – have sat down to talk a little theology amongst themselves. …et ecce mulier quae erat in civitate peccatrix ut cognovit quod accubuit in domo Pharisaei adtulit alabastrum unguenti et stans retro secus pedes eius lacrimis coepit rigare pedes eius et capillis capitis sui tergebat et osculabatur pedes eius et unguento unguebat.

And behold a woman that was in the city, a sinner, when she knew that he sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment; And standing behind at his feet, she began to wash his feet, with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

This is a better scene for this imaginary Gay Pride sermon because so very many people will be strangers: but they will know where Our Lord is sitting at meat – at Church. Our steeples and reader boards and “welcome” signs will be all over the cities. Our Lord will be setting down to dinner and to talk theology with us just as – or just before – the Parades step off.

But on the off chance, if one of these visitors should enter our Churches – if they venture so far – will they find a welcome? Will they be able to fall at the feet of Jesus? Will they hear from our lips the condemnation that Jesus does not speak or will they hear the welcome and forgiveness he offers – without the sermon this time? “You’ve loved much – by coming this far.”

propter quod dico tibi remittentur ei peccata multa quoniam dilexit multum cui autem minus dimittitur minus diligit dixit autem ad illam remittuntur tibi peccata et coeperunt qui simul accumbebant dicere intra se quis est hic qui etiam peccata dimittit dixit autem ad mulierem fides tua te salvam fecit vade in pace.

Wherefore I say to thee: Many sins are forgiven her, because she hath loved much. But to whom less is forgiven, he loveth less. And he said to her: Thy sins are forgiven thee. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves: Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman: Thy faith hath made thee safe, go in peace.

Why does he not offer a sermon? Why does he not command “and sin no more”? Why does he credit her faith for just showing up? Because God loves us. The woman caught in adultery didn’t come to him of her own volition as this woman did. The woman caught in adultery did not show up at the party wanting only to see Jesus – just as our visitors do. To each of them he takes their first, halting steps – their very first offering of love – in a synergy unknown to them and spins out forgiveness.

Whatever sin each of us brought with us to Church: God is still working it out in each us, “in fear and trembling”. But if we had shown up on that first day only to hear a sermon aimed directly at us (perhaps with a lot of clucking and pointing from around the room as well) why would we have had anything else to do with this deity?

The topic of sexual sin never once came up in my conversations with Fr V (Memory Eternal!). It was there in my confessions, of course, and he treated it like any other sin: as did Fr J. With God’s help, things work out. But there’s no huge explosion that very first day. Trust me.

Would it have been different if I’d heard that one sermon we often hear on this topic that first Sunday? Yes. Very much so. Is it any different on Gay Pride Sunday if a visitor hears that one sermon? Yes. Very much so. That one special sermon seems to say there is only one Sin left in the world and it’s mine – thus as a leper, all I can do is put on my Pink Triangles and Rainbow Shirts and go back to my party because I’m not welcomed at yours. I would have been one of the people up the street – ignoring even the liberal Churches.

It’s not the Gospel – this pre-judgement. But we only condemn ourselves. We’re the Ick factor that keeps people out of church. Period. Not their sins. That’s God’s thing: not ours. Not even at the Chalice.

We are encouraged (threatened?) by the saints to think that the way we treat others day-to-day is the way God will treat us in the end. Who would you rather be? What scene do you want to imagine on Judgement day? We can each be the Adulteress, her sins dragged before our Lord by her accusers; the Accusers, out for a sinner’s blood; the Pharisees, judging sinners – and also judging our Lord for his failure to judge, or; we can be the Woman who Loved Much – even though she didn’t know how to show it or what to do about it. I bet afterwards she threw some amazing dinner parties.

We risk turning the Church into all the Pharisees at dinner: Doesn’t he know what kind of sinner this is!?!?!?! Yes – and he knows what kind of sinner each of us is. And he lets us touch him, nonetheless.

God have mercy on all of us.