Of late, I am living more and more into being Out. Having sojourned in a different land (in which I convince myself that I am a sorely mixed-up straight boy who just needs to get over this desire to rub up on some hairy men) I have come to discover that I've been speaking a strange dialect that I've never quite mastered. Now, I am learning to return to my native tongue - and it is coming back to me, so to speak. {Now look, I know the previous sentence may seem to be full of double entendres. I didn't mean it that way; or did I?}
The gospel lesson a few Sundays ago was the story of the raising of Lazarus. It is not lost on me what Jesus says "in a loud voice:" Lazarus, come out!
Yes, there you have it. Jesus himself commands us to come out. Ha! Tell that one to Fred Phelps. (Don't bother; he wouldn't get it anyway).
When, in fact, Lazarus does come forth, he is bound up with all the burial clothes. He is bound up, dressed for death. But now, Lazarus is given another chance. Jesus does not remove the wrappings. He gives other instructions: Jesus tells the family and friends gathered (their mourning put on hold for some other occasion) to "unbind him and let him go." Jesus may raise the dead, but it takes the whole community to unbind him. It takes a village to help him come out.
It certainly does.
Thank you all. Chris & Simon, James, Jeffrey & Jeff, Rich, Sean & Jeffrey, John+ & John, Guy, Jack, Joe, Jane, Mahan-Dan-Liz-Miles, Porter, Bob, Dr. Ur-Spo, Wayne, RG, Benji, Raven~, Troll, Dave, Betty, Birdie, Michael, Bigg, Larry & Greg, Merritt, Paul, Gregory, Michael, Mark, Austin-Rob-Michael-Mickey-Joel, Richard, Migs, Harry, . . . . . . . . . . . .and so very many more. thank you.
It's nearly Easter, but resurrection seems to be lagging a bit, for me. (Maybe I need some res-erection. Sorry).
I am so looking forward to next week, and some time away! It won't be far away, and comes only through the gift of a local establishment given for the health and well-being of folk in my
Come out!