Pentecost VII -Year B 07/07/24

Sean C. Kim
Pentecost VII
St. Mary’s Episcopal Church
7 July 2024

Many of you know I was born in Seoul, South Korea. I immigrated to the United States
with my parents, sister, and brother when I was eight years old and grew up in Independence,
Missouri. My mother, siblings, and I went back to visit Korea when I was thirteen, and then I did
not go back for 24 years. It wasn’t until 2001 that I went back, my first visit as an adult. I went
there for both business and pleasure. At the time, I was doing research on my dissertation on the
history of Protestant Christianity in Korea. I also went to visit family and friends. I was very
excited about the trip. In the days and weeks that led up to the trip, I reveled in the fond
memories of my happy childhood growing up in Seoul. What a homecoming it would be.
Well, the trip was not at all what I had expected. In fact, it turned out to be one of the
most alienating experiences in my life. To begin with, Korea had changed in the 24 years that I
had been absent – that’s a whole generation. In the rapid economic development of South Korea
in the late twentieth century, Seoul, the center of that development, had changed beyond
recognition. Gone were the quaint, charming neighborhoods that I remembered. And there were
so many more people – large crowds everywhere I went.

But it wasn’t just the city that had changed. I had changed, too. Although I could speak
the language and looked like a typical Korean, I clearly did not fit in – the way I dressed, the way
I acted. Even in my speech, people could detect that I was not a native. I used old, outdated
words and made frequent verbal gaffes. I’m in that category of Asian Americans who are
jokingly called bananas – yellow on the outside, white on the inside. During my two weeks there,
I had a string of unpleasant experiences: constantly getting lost in the big city, navigating rude
crowds and strange customs and manners, overwhelmed by the urban hustle and bustle.
Belligerent cab drivers, in particular, were the bane of my existence. I ended up spending a lot of
time by myself in the hotel room and counting the days when I would be back in the states.
During the trip, I came to the sad realization that Korea is no longer my home. I did not belong
there.

In today’s Gospel from Mark, Jesus experiences alienation and rejection in his
hometown. It’s his first visit to Nazareth since he began his ministry. By this time, word had
spread of his preaching and miracles. But far from a grand homecoming for a native son, he
confronts suspicion and hostility. The people of Nazareth ask among themselves: “Is not this the
carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his
sisters here with us?” And we read that “they took offense at him” (Mark 6:3). It seems to be an
example of the old cliché, “Familiarity breeds contempt.” The people can’t seem to accept the
fact that a great leader could rise from the humble origins of a blue-collar family in remote
Nazareth, away from the religious and cultural centers of the time. And perhaps there was some
jealousy as well. Jesus has become a famous itinerant preacher and wonder worker, while they
have to continue their mundane, anonymous daily grind of a Galilean peasant. Jesus is amazed
by their rejection of him, and their unbelief even limits his ministry there. We read that “he could
do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them”
(Mark 6:5).

Some of you may have had similar experiences with your hometowns. Isn’t there a
saying that goes, “You can’t go home again”? Your hometown changes. We change. Fond
memories remain memories; we can’t recreate the past. On the other hand, some of you may
have good relationships with your hometowns. I actually have some friends who have never left
the place of their birth, and they’re perfectly happy where they are. And then there may be others
of you who left your hometown to see the big world and then came back. Although my siblings
and I were all born in Korea, we kind of fit in this category. We were young when we left Korea
and we grew up in the Kansas City area, so we consider it our home. All three of us left for our
education, and my sister started a family and lived in New York for a while. But then we all
came back to Kansas City. We love it here. It is our home.

Whether we have a good or bad relationship with our hometowns, there is one place – a
home – that surpasses all others in the sense of belonging and meaning. That home is the Church.

The Church is our true home on earth.

As followers of the Lord Jesus, we belong to a new community, a new family that he
instituted during his ministry. Earlier in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus proclaims, “Whoever does the
will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (Mark 3:35). As followers of the Lord Jesus, we
are bound together by faith and love as siblings in this new family, and the Church is our home.
You may have heard that heaven is our true home, but the fact is heaven has already
begun for us here on earth. We don’t have to wait for death to experience what heaven is like.
There’s an old hymn. I think it’s either Methodist or Baptist; it’s not found in our hymnbook. I
used to hear it a lot growing up in the Korean church, and it has a special place in my heart
because we sang it at my mother’s funeral. It goes like this:

Since Christ my soul from sin set free,
This life has been a joy to me;
And ’mid earth’s sorrows and its woe,
’Tis joy my Jesus here to know.
O hallelujah, yes, ’tis joy!
For it is Christ that I enjoy!
On land or sea, what matters where?
Where Jesus is, my joy is there.

In the Korean version of the hymn, which is slightly different, the last line of the hymn would be
translated, “Where Jesus is, it is heaven there.” Where Jesus is, it is heaven there.

​As Christians, we believe that Jesus is present in and among us. Because of His Presence
in our lives, we experience the joy of heaven on earth. And the Church is where we most fully
experience His Presence. The Church is where we come every Sunday and during the week to
receive His Body and Blood and to unite with him and with one another. The Church is where
we come to rest and be refreshed from our daily labors. The Church is where we are empowered
to do His work of love and service in the world.

Like any home, we are not immune from tensions and conflicts among family members.
The Church is far from perfect. But we can never cease to strive to live up to our family values
of love, care, and respect for one another. We can never cease to reach out to our neighbors,
especially the poor and those in need. We can never cease to welcome all to our doors, regardless
of whatever differences may divide us. Love reigns in this home because Christ lives here.