While not quite the same as 1971, I feel as if our nation is entering another period of turbulence. Millions of jobs have been lost. Our country is divided over the war on terrorism and the war in Iraq. Though many laws have changed, racism and sexism still abound, and the changing face of immigrants is met with new forms of discrimination. Meanwhile basic human rights for gays and lesbians remain in question. Fundamentalists of every stripe - Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu - are on the rise, with violence following in their wake. The California recall is more spectacle than democracy, while questions of impeachment begin to loom over yet another president, as accusations of treason trickle into the discussion of the White House leaks.

In our community this week, we remember the sniper attacks and all the victims who died in a few short days that seemed like an eternity. And two years later, the nation still mourns the tragedy of September 11. A sense of fear and threat hangs over us like a heavy cloud, though we're not quite sure which direction the threat is coming from.

And where is the church in all this? Are we united or are we coming untied?

I was in a yoga class last month where announcements were being made about various workshops, some of which were by Hindu teachers, so the yoga teacher said firmly, as if to assure us, "But these workshops aren't religious - they're spiritual, but not religious."

It made me stop and think about the two words: spirituality and religion. Everyone these days is spiritual, but not as many 'fess up to being religious.

And yet, in times like these - when the world is dark with anxiety and violence surrounds us on all sides - a little religion might be a good thing. Because religion comes from the word religare - which means to bind together. To bring us back together. That which unites.

History doesn't always prove this to be the case, of course. Unfortunately, religion has been as divisive almost as often as it has been healing. In today's gospel message, the disciples around Jesus give us a classic example of how easily the thing that should bind us together can become a wall that separates us.

John approaches Jesus to let him know that somebody had been casting out demons in Jesus's name. Because they didn't know this guy, he wasn't one of the insiders on the disciple track, they told him to stop it! They stopped him, the text reads, because "he wasn't following us."

Not, notice, that he wasn't following "Jesus." Rather, he wasn't following "us," that is, the disciples.

Jesus tells them not to stop anybody who is calling on his name. "For whoever is not against us is for us." Jesus puts himself back into the equation here, at the same time that he turns around the conventional idea that whoever is not for us is against us. No ... whoever is not against us is for us.

This is really quite a dramatic statement when you think about it. All the questions about who can be saved - do you have to call on Jesus as your Lord and Savior? - fly out the window. Whoever is not against us, is for us. Anyone not actually against Jesus is part of the team.

And think what this idea would do if we applied it to churches, communities, nations. Whoever is not against us, is for us. We won't go about the business of building walls and keeping track of who is in and who is out. We can be open and trusting because until someone clearly shows that they are opposing us, we can assume they are on our side. We can give them the benefit of the doubt.

And if we can give them the benefit of the doubt, we can listen to them. And maybe begin to understand them. And maybe even learn from them.

The great irony of this little story in Mark's gospel is that the same disciples who stopped the man who was casting out demons, had just the previous day been unable to cast out a demon when called upon to do so.

So they come upon a person who is successfully resisting the demonic forces - doing something they themselves have been unable to do - and do they stop to learn from him? No! They stop him from doing the good he is doing, because he wasn't in the right crowd.

The irony of this story and the lesson Jesus teaches us has far-reaching implications for our churches and our culture. Rather than stopping those who are doing good because they aren't the ones we expect, maybe we can stop and learn from them.

Maybe liberals can learn from evangelicals about inviting people into the presence of God. Maybe Christians can learn from Buddhists about the need for silence. Maybe heterosexuals can learn from gay couples about how to weather the storms of a relationships when all the cards are stacked against you. Maybe Northern hemisphere people can learn from our neighbors in the Southern Hemisphere about the power of hope.

A journalist traveling in a war-torn region of Africa a few years ago witnessed the powerful hope of some wise women there. At the border of the two warring countries, he saw a fence. And lined up on each side was a group of nursing mothers. Defying all the hatred and bloodshed that their tribal identities called for, these women wer exchanging their babies over the fence -- nursing each other's children with their own milk. The milk of human kindness. The human milk of peace and friendship.

The cup of blessing. This is what we share today. The common cup. Not only us, representing many parts of Gods amazing creation, but around the world today Christians in many nations and many denominations are coming together to share the cup of blessing.

Today we remember that however untied we may feel, we are united. United not because we have evolved since those disciples in today's text. No, we're still learning.

But united because God unites us, even when we divide ourselves. United by the cross which binds together suffering people everywhere in the spirit of resurrection. United by grace which flows to us freely from the love of God, whether any of us deserve it or not.

If left to our own devices, we are the church untied and our religion can become that which separates us rather than that which binds us together. Our egos and our insecurities and our need for certainty can shut out the very ones who might teach us. But through the grace of God and the redemptive power of Jesus, we can be united.

United in hope, united in faith, united by our common need for food and forgiveness, and united to share cups of blessing wherever we go.