"Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness."--Martin Luther King, Jr.
As we approach the holiday set aside to celebrate the Rev. Dr. King's birthday, I am in awe of the timeliness of his holiday, and the place that I observe that we are standing in right now in the world. Dr. King was an advocate, a prophet, for seeing beyond the narrow confines of one's self and recognizing our connectedness as human beings... no matter our skin color. Of course, he was like a Moses for the African-American population, but his speech took aim at the hearts of the white majority in hopes that we'd have ears to hear.
Today, I don't think it's speeches that we are needing to hear, but a deeper, unspoken message that is communicated through going quiet and listening to the intake and exhale of breath and the beating of the heart. It's here that I believe we can discern God's speech. It's here where we receive the message. And it's something we have in common with all creatures that connects us together.
That connection governs how we're going to treat one another.
I was appalled this week to read a comment on the New York Times web site about a half-day after the destructive earthquake in Haiti. This person, noting that there was an immediate outcry for people and governments to send financial aid to help with the massive crisis in the country, said the United States government shouldn't send "one dime" to Haiti until it had paid the $29-thousand dollars for this commentator's heart transplant. After my initial stunning at the degree of selfishness expressed in that comment subsided, I wondered, "Your heart transplant? Aren't you talking about your heart insertion?"
I juxtapose such a response to Haiti with the words in the collect for tomorrow's services:
Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ is the light
of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word
and Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ's
glory, that he may be known, worshiped, and obeyed to the
ends of the earth...
How exactly are we making Christ's glory shine with radiance when we shroud it in the darkness of selfishness?
Tomorrow's gospel is Christ's miracle at the wedding of Cana where, upon prompting from his mother, he turns the jugs of water into wine. And, at the amazement of everyone, he didn't give them some Mogen David; this was the really good stuff! Upon first reading of this lesson, I wondered what would have happened if Jesus had gone with his original line of "Too bad the wine ran out, but this isn't my problem. My time hasn't come."? What example would that have set for us today? An earthquake hits Haiti. The after effects of a hurricane ravishes New Orleans. The homeless have no where to go in sub-freezing temperatures. Would we dare say, "Sorry, you should have planned better. My time hasn't come." Hardly!
Even the LGBT community is making special efforts to aid Haiti. As a group, gay people are not exactly loved by most Caribbean nations. And Haiti is heavily Roman Catholic and evangelical Protestant. But there are co-ordinated efforts through groups such as SAVE DADE to work with the Red Cross on getting funds and supplies to the hurting and desperate people in Haiti. We are not stopping to ask, "Well, why should we help those who reject us?" Instead, the comments in various online forums speak to the understanding we have for those in need of help... encouraging people to text and have an extra charge for one month on a cellphone bill go to the relief agencies on the ground.
I'll take creative altruism over destructive selfishness every time.
As we approach the holiday set aside to celebrate the Rev. Dr. King's birthday, I am in awe of the timeliness of his holiday, and the place that I observe that we are standing in right now in the world. Dr. King was an advocate, a prophet, for seeing beyond the narrow confines of one's self and recognizing our connectedness as human beings... no matter our skin color. Of course, he was like a Moses for the African-American population, but his speech took aim at the hearts of the white majority in hopes that we'd have ears to hear.
Today, I don't think it's speeches that we are needing to hear, but a deeper, unspoken message that is communicated through going quiet and listening to the intake and exhale of breath and the beating of the heart. It's here that I believe we can discern God's speech. It's here where we receive the message. And it's something we have in common with all creatures that connects us together.
That connection governs how we're going to treat one another.
I was appalled this week to read a comment on the New York Times web site about a half-day after the destructive earthquake in Haiti. This person, noting that there was an immediate outcry for people and governments to send financial aid to help with the massive crisis in the country, said the United States government shouldn't send "one dime" to Haiti until it had paid the $29-thousand dollars for this commentator's heart transplant. After my initial stunning at the degree of selfishness expressed in that comment subsided, I wondered, "Your heart transplant? Aren't you talking about your heart insertion?"
I juxtapose such a response to Haiti with the words in the collect for tomorrow's services:
Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ is the light
of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word
and Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ's
glory, that he may be known, worshiped, and obeyed to the
ends of the earth...
How exactly are we making Christ's glory shine with radiance when we shroud it in the darkness of selfishness?
Tomorrow's gospel is Christ's miracle at the wedding of Cana where, upon prompting from his mother, he turns the jugs of water into wine. And, at the amazement of everyone, he didn't give them some Mogen David; this was the really good stuff! Upon first reading of this lesson, I wondered what would have happened if Jesus had gone with his original line of "Too bad the wine ran out, but this isn't my problem. My time hasn't come."? What example would that have set for us today? An earthquake hits Haiti. The after effects of a hurricane ravishes New Orleans. The homeless have no where to go in sub-freezing temperatures. Would we dare say, "Sorry, you should have planned better. My time hasn't come." Hardly!
Even the LGBT community is making special efforts to aid Haiti. As a group, gay people are not exactly loved by most Caribbean nations. And Haiti is heavily Roman Catholic and evangelical Protestant. But there are co-ordinated efforts through groups such as SAVE DADE to work with the Red Cross on getting funds and supplies to the hurting and desperate people in Haiti. We are not stopping to ask, "Well, why should we help those who reject us?" Instead, the comments in various online forums speak to the understanding we have for those in need of help... encouraging people to text and have an extra charge for one month on a cellphone bill go to the relief agencies on the ground.
I'll take creative altruism over destructive selfishness every time.
1 comment:
A very good homily, Susan. I loved it and I think a lot of us are trying to help Haiti.
Peggins
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