The
Kiss of Mission
Sermon preached by the
Very Rev’d Titus Presler, Dean and President,
Professor of Mission and
World Christianity,
Episcopal Theological Seminary
of the Southwest,
at the Church of the Incarnation
in Dallas, Texas,
on the Fifth Sunday after
the Epiphany, 9 February 2003
Year B, Epiphany V: 2 Kings
4.8-37; 1 Corinthians 9.16-23; Mark 1.29-39
A kiss —
care in a kiss,
affection in a kiss,
cherishing in a kiss,
self-offering in a kiss —
all that in a kiss.
It’s
your kiss —
a kiss offered by one of you,
by a member of the Church of the Incarnation,
a kiss that incarnated, put into flesh, the vision and
the outreach of the people of this parish in Honduras.
Whoa!
you may say — What kiss is this? — and why so public?
Well,
it’s a kiss that you put it out there in public,
or someone in your communications department did:
someone sorting through dozens of pictures from the first
mission trip to Honduras and trying to choose which one to put
in your booklet that introduces the Church of the Incarnation
—
whoever that was came across a picture of Polly Richards
kissing a young Honduran girl on her cheek.
And
all of a sudden the pictures of the medical work and the pictures
of the dental work — well, we can imagine why those ones didn’t make the cut —
but also the pictures of the eyeglasses dispensary, the
Vacation Bible School, and the church construction —
all those pictures
of the good and important work that the team went to Honduras
to do,
all those pictures
were put aside.
The
picture of the kiss, Polly leaning down and kissing the Honduran
girl —
that’s the one picture chosen to illustrate the international
mission work of this parish.
Let’s
call it the Incarnation kiss.
Let’s
call it the mission kiss.
Let’s
do more: Let’s say that God’s mission comes down to a kiss.
A
kiss is personal.
A
kiss is intimate.
And
that’s just how personal and intimate God’s mission is!
Look
at the two stories about God’s mission we hear today in scripture.
Elisha
and the woman at Shunem.
The
meeting, the inviting, the meal, the in-law apartment, the birth
of the boy —
how homey, friendly and personal!
The
boy dies on a hot, freakish afternoon,
and the woman of Shunem knows that the mission of God that
entered her life has just got to have another act.
Elisha
goes in, he closes the door and he prays,
and then he stretches himself upon the child and puts his
hands on the child’s hands and, the scripture says, “put his mouth
on the child’s mouth” —
“the flesh of the child became warm,” and then there was
the sneezing.
God’s
mission came down to a kiss.
Elisha
did lots of public things as he wandered around,
but this is one of the longest stories about any prophet,
and it’s a private, domestic story about the mission of
the prophet in a friendship with a family,
and there God’s mission came down to a kiss.
Today’s
Jesus story is another private, homey story.
Jesus
had been doing lots of big public things,
like liberating a man from a demon in the synagogue in
Capernaum,
but at the end of the day he and his disciples had to go
home,
and home was Peter and Andrew’s home.
It’s
the home of both of them, so it’s an extended-family home,
and, sure enough, the extended family is there, Peter’s
mother-in-law,
and she’s sick.
“And
Jesus came and took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the
fever left her.”
Not
literally a kiss, but a healing in the bosom of a family,
a healing that arose from a close relationship.
Not
literally a kiss, but still the mission kiss.
I
want to say that the incarnation itself,
the central, supreme and surpassing act of God around which
you gather and name yourselves in this parish,
the whole of what God was up to in Jesus of Nazareth
can be summed up in a kiss:
the kiss of God the Word becoming flesh and living among
us,
God in Jesus coming into the human story,
God in Jesus embracing the human story,
God in Jesus kissing you and me —
God’s mission comes down to a kiss.
Mission
is about sending and being sent.
Mission
isn’t ours, nor is it the church’s.
The
mission is God’s.
The
call to mission is God’s call that we participate in what God
is up to in the world.
Mission
is ministry in dimension of difference.
We’re
on mission when we participate with God across the boundaries
of difference,
when we let God call us beyond who we are to encounter
those who are different from who we are.
Those
differences can be any kind of differences —
ethnic, racial, social, economic, national, linguistic,
geographical.
Mission
can be with a different community right here in Houston.
Mission
can be with a people in an entirely different part of the world.
In
May, it was an inspiration to be with Scott and Carol Kellerman,
missionaries of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society
who are working with the Batwa pygmy people in western
Uganda.
A
hunting and gathering forest people, the Batwa were evicted from
the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest by the Uganda government in order
to protect the gorillas there —
and now they’re on their own in modern Ugandan society
with challenges and diseases they never imagined.
It’s
with help from this diocese that the Kellermans are working with
the Batwa,
Scott as a physician and Carol as a teacher and spiritual
guide.
My
wife Jane and I got up to their remote station high up in the
mountains in the Diocese of Kinkiizi, and they took us to the
Batwas’ settlement
where we had a good visit with them.
And
there on their ridge was the Diane Stanton Health Clinic, named
after the spouse of the bishop of this diocese,
for Bishop Jim and Diane have been very involved in mission
in Uganda.
Jim
and Carol are doing excellent work with the Batwa,
but what stands out in their presence is the care, the
affection, the humor, the tenderness of their relationships with
this victimized people.
Relationship
is the heart of mission
and what we’re seeing in this new century is that companionship
is the central quality in that relationship.
The
Standing Commission on World Mission of the Episcopal Church,
which I chair, has just prepared a 30-page vision statement for
the church’s world mission for this year’s General Convention.
What
we’ve found through talking with missionaries, mission supporters,
and Anglicans around the world is that money, programs and projects
are not longer the heart of world mission.
People
are instead seeing that relationships of companionship are central.
God
is calling our church as a whole to be a companion with other
churches in the Anglican Communion and beyond.
Dioceses
and parishes are living out their call to be companions with dioceses
and parishes in other countries, just as you are living out a
companionship with a congregation in Honduras.
Individual
missionaries like Valeska Daley and the Kellermans are ministering
as companions in their places of service.
Literally,
companions share bread together.
Theologically,
companions share in Christ the bread of life.
Today
the missionary and the mission community journey with others and
form community in Christ.
In
such companionship both missionary and supporting community are
transfigured as they experience
the gospel life of their companion communities.
Companionship
in mission constitutes a shift from some modes of the colonial
era,
when sending churches in the Global North were sometimes
confident that they had everything to teach and nothing to learn
—
now we know that all of us are learners in the mission
journey.
Solidarity
with the suffering is a central expression of mission companionship.
The
mission church may not be able to solve the anguish, violence
and injustice suffered by the companion church,
but simply being present in the place of fear, loss and
isolation expresses the love of Christ.
That
is what you are up to in your many engagements around the world
That
is what God is up to through your many engagements around the
world.
It’s
the Incarnation kiss.
It’s
the mission kiss.
God’s
mission comes down to a kiss.