Kinship, Community, Love, Peace, and Hope
Advent 4, December 19, 2021
Micah 5:2-5a • Hebrews 10:5-10 • Luke 1:39-55
Every ten years or so, the bishops of the Anglican Communion gather for what is known as the Lambeth Conference – a gathering that serves a relational function to maintain communion of various national churches, the Episcopal Church being one of them. In the years leading up to the 2008 Lambeth Conference, relationships among member churches in the Anglican Communion were severely strained over the consecration of an openly gay bishop and the ordination of gay and lesbian clergy. And by severely strained, I mean nearly irreparably fractured. The Episcopal Church was leading in these areas, and I believe we were right to allow all people to participate in the full life of the church, albeit much, much too late. But not every church in the Anglican Communion saw it that way.
As the Lambeth Conference approached, the bishops wondered how they could relate to one another and how they could communicate with one another despite such differences. Archbishop Thabo Makgoba of Cape Town, South Africa, suggested that listening sessions, known by an African name “Indaba,” be included in the schedule for the conference. And, so, bishops were organized into Indaba groups to study Scripture, to worship, to listen to one another’s experiences, and to speak truth to one another. The Indaba process allowed bishops to better understand the cultural realities and contexts in which other bishops lived and ministered. And it may well have prevented a complete fracturing of the communion at that point.
Indaba was so successful that it was implemented on a wider scale after Lambeth. Different dioceses across the globe were grouped into triads for what was known as “Continuing Indaba.” One group included the diocese south of us, El Camino Real, along with Gloucester in England, and Western Tanganyika, in Africa. Lay and clergy representatives travelled to each others’ dioceses to be immersed in the local culture, and to join for conversation and listening sessions. According to Bishop Mary Gray Reeves, formerly of the Diocese of El Camino Real, and Bishop Robert Springett of Gloucester, participating in Continuing Indaba was transformational. Participants from such different corners of the Anglican Communion, with such different experiences, “learned to study the Bible and pray together, which led to a greater understanding and acceptance of who we are as Christians on a common journey.”
People took a considerable amount of risk when they took this journey of listening and encounter. They risked tensions, conflict, and peril; they encountered unforeseen complications and setbacks; and they didn’t know what they would discover. But, by encountering each other as human persons from particular contexts, participants were able to engage in difficult conversations. And something new was enwombed in those encounters. A new way of relating to one another was developing, and it promised to give birth to a more authentic vision of church, where according to Bishop Robert Springett, “we listen to each other’s voice...even if it leads to uncomfortable places.” Continuing Indaba was transformational for the people involved; it strengthened relationships that previously existed, and it restored relationships that were previously strained and nearly fractured. It was a long journey that participants took seeking those things that would sustain them: kinship, community, love, peace, and hope.
In today’s Gospel, there is a very short part of a sentence that could easily go unappreciated in the shadow of Mary’s Magnificat: “Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country...” Mary went with haste. Mary went quickly, right? When we hear this, I imagine we think of someone rushing off quickly – making a quick journey to that Judean town in the hill country. We are affected by our modern conceptions of time and space, where travel is rapid and relatively safe. Mary’s journey was neither of those.
We understand that Mary lived at Nazareth, and tradition tells us that Elizabeth, her cousin, lived in a hill town about 80 miles away. And the road to that town was difficult and dangerous. In all likelihood, Mary’s journey to Elizabeth involved finding a way to make the journey with a group of other travelers. While Mary traveled as quickly as she could, it would take days to reach Elizabeth. And we cannot forget that this was occupied territory, and she would likely pass Roman soldiers as she journeyed.
Mary took a considerable amount of risk to see her cousin. She risked the dangers of the road. She risked tensions, conflict, and peril; she may have encountered unforeseen complications or setbacks as she journeyed with as much haste as her realities allowed. And she did not know what she would find when she arrived. She did not know how Elizabeth would receive her. She risked disappointment, maybe even rejection. She risked nothing coming of it. But she journeyed anyway. Mary braved every danger of the road to seek those things that sustain: kinship, community, love, peace, and hope.
Kinship, community, love, peace, and hope are things that hold us together, whether we’re talking about a communion of churches across the globe, or this The Episcopal Church, or this community of faith at Holy Innocents, or our families, or our marriages and partnerships, or just our individual selves. And, on this our Advent journey – and there’s still several days left – I invite you to consider where in your lives there may be fractures and tensions. Are there differences that threaten to irreparably divide? Are there people with whom you have settled for a comfortable ease, rather than a lasting peace? Where and with whom do you need to sit and listen; where and with whom do you need to speak your truth; where and with whom do you need to pray; where and with whom do you need to engage in authentic conversation, even if it leads to uncomfortable places? I invite you to consider what journeys you might take, or continue taking, to seek healing and wholeness. These are treacherous journeys, difficult paths, but ones that promise unseen life enwombed – journeys that must be taken to birth and re-birth those things that sustain: kinship, community, love, peace, and hope.