Walk in Light: A Sermon for 2B Easter

 

As I read through the lessons for this Sunday, I couldn't help but think what a coincidence it was that we would be talking about light and darkness on the heels of remembering the death of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

And while I didn't see a whole lot of hoopla online or on the news about April 4th, I always remember that date...in part thanks to the Irish rock band U2 and their song, "In the Name of Love." 

The more I listen to people around me...both in church and elsewhere...the more I am reminded that people could use a lot more light in their lives. We need to turn away from hatred and embrace love as the true ethos for life. 

Texts: 1John 1:1-2:2; John 20:19-31

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 “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.”

This past Thursday…we remembered the 19-68 assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Dr. King said many wise words as he led the movement to bring this country to a consciousness that all people…including those descendants of former slaves…deserved to be treated with respect and dignity and given full access to the freedoms promised to us.

But a particular sentiment expressed in one of his sermons has stood out to me.

It was included in a book titled “Strength to Love,” a collection of his writings and sermons.

Dr. King wrote, “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

This topic of love vs. hate, light vs. dark was one that King returned to again and again in his ministry of reconciliation.

As one leading a movement against systemic oppression…and constant “othering,” it was an important touchstone for him personally.

It was something he learned from his studying of the theologian Howard Thurman…who also wrote extensively on the nature of love and hate in his own book, “Jesus and the Disinherited.” King reportedly carried a well-worn copy of Thurman’s book with him everywhere he went.

For both men…their deep and abiding bonds to the life and teachings of Jesus are clear and are so well expressed in our Epistle from the First Letter of John.

People often think these John letters were written by the same evangelist who gave us the Fourth Gospel…which scholars believe was written in 100 C-E…about 70 years after Jesus’ death.

It’s more likely that these words were from someone in the Johnine Community.

John’s community were Jews who had come to believe in Jesus as the Messiah.

They’d been intermingling with Gentiles.

This caused a lot of tension with the rest of the Jewish population…as the post-temple rabbinic Judaism was beginning to take shape.

It’s important for us to keep that in mind whenever we hear the lines about “fear of the Jews” in John’s Gospel. What we’re hearing is that there was an intra-religious struggle occurring as Judaism was splitting in two.

The theme of “light” and “darkness” is a hallmark of John and his community of believers.

And even though our Gospel doesn’t specifically speak of “light” and “dark”…we get a sense of that this idea of light and dark…love and hate… is at play.

Our Gospel reading today is about the events that happened on Easter evening.

We know that Mary Magdalene has seen the risen Christ in the morning.

She’s been enlightened.

Meanwhile…Peter and one of the other disciples…only know that the tomb is empty. They don’t know what’s happened to Jesus. Only that his body is gone.

A bunch of disciples are now huddled and frightened in a house…not knowing what’s going on or what’s in store for them.

The whole point of the Roman Empire using crucifixion was to terrorize Jews into submission.

Jesus suddenly appears in their midst…. whole body…holes in his hands and all.

He looks at this room of awe-struck believers and says, “Peace be with you.”

Note that he doesn’t say, “Pick up your swords and your spears! Let’s go get that Pontius Pilate! Let’s string up Herod! We’re gonna take Jerusalem by storm!”

Jesus says, “Peace be with you.”

Calm your fears.

Dry your eyes from weeping.

Do not seek revenge…

Receive the Holy Spirit…the breath.

The breath…which God has been blowing into Humankind since the second creation story in Genesis.

The breath…that inspiration of life…which is analogous to the light…as opposed to the darkness which gets linked to death.

There is a gentleness and kindness in this moment.

A reminder again of that commandment: love one another as I have loved you.

Now Thomas wasn’t in the room when this happened.

He may have been hiding somewhere else…separated from the rest of the group as they ran for their lives at the time of Jesus’ arrest.

The church…I think…has been unkind to Thomas throughout the centuries.

We’ve made him seem like a “less than” believer just because he wasn’t there and expresses a need to see Jesus for himself.

But is he really any different than most of us?

Many of us are willing to identify with Peter.

We can see in ourselves that disciple who “gets it” sometimes, and other times seems thick as a brick.

I think that Thomas and his reaction to missing Jesus’s appearance is a pretty typical reaction that any one of us would’ve had.

It’s like when we’re out with a friend and they see something extraordinary flash across the sky.

But by the time we look, it’s already disappeared.

And it’s because Thomas wasn’t there…Jesus comes back again.

He is intent upon giving Thomas the experience of his lifetime that he’d missed the week before.

And…again…when Jesus appears…his first words are, “Peace be with you.”

Looking at Thomas…he invites him to touch him to know that he is for real.

He doesn’t say, “Hey…you faithless dumb dumb: where were you last week?”

Once more…the invitation is a sincere desire to reassure this one that Love has won.

Thomas doesn’t need to touch Jesus.

He just needed that confirmation.

I think we all need it.

In a world with wars and anger and division…we need to know that the path out of darkness and into light is through believing that Love is strong and will not be kept locked up in a tomb. We need to see others around us showing kindness and compassion.

That’s why someone in the Johnine community wrote this first missive, reminding them to seek God…and find the light in those who are committed to a path of love. And to remember that by trusting God…believing that there is a “perfect love casts out fear”… they can give and receive the courage to endure whatever hardships come their way.

Easter is our season to take those steps toward living our faith without fear…turning away from hatred and speaking peace to those around us.

May the light of Christ shine forth brightly from you wherever you go this week.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

 

 

"Who is Jesus Christ?!"

My biggest disappointment this week was that I didn't have the story of Moses and the burning bush to work with since we're talking about "Who do you say that I am?"

My second biggest disappointment was that I was so drawn to the Gospel reading that I couldn't work with the First Lesson from Exodus about Moses being picked out of the water by Pharaoh's daughter...and the two Hebrew midwives Shiphrah and Puah who saved many a male child with their cunning and devotion to God. 

But the Gospel did provide me with some things to say. 

I chose not to dive too deeply into the conversation that I had with Bishop Howard. If you really want to get more of that story, I refer you to this entry from earlier this year.

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Texts: Matthew 16:13-20; Romans 12:1-8

 

“He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?”

I’m pretty sure I’ve already shared this story with y’all, but given this Gospel lesson, it’s worth telling it again.

About ten years ago… after wrestling with this nagging idea that God was calling me to ordained ministry… I told my then rector at my church in Tallahassee that I was going to have to leave his church and transfer my membership to St. Thomas in Thomasville.

Given how active I was… this distressed and alarmed him. So he made a call to Bishop John Howard of Florida and requested that the bishop meet with me.

The bishop agreed and my rector went with me.

We made the long thunkity-thunkity drive along I-10 to Jacksonville.

We prayed before we went into the offices on Market Street.

And then I endured a 45-minute oral examination on the catechism by the bishop.

I remembered that I was in the middle of answering one of his questions when he abruptly stopped me with yet another question:

He demanded to know: “Who is Jesus Christ?”

(Now, in my head, I’m thinking, ‘You’re a bishop and you don’t know who Jesus Christ is?!’ Of course, I didn’t say that).

I remember smiling, and with almost that Peter-like wonder and certainty, the words spilled out of my mouth:

“Jesus Christ is the greatest liberator from oppression ever!”

It wasn’t some rehearsed answer.

It wasn’t something I picked up from a book.

It was something that came from the very depths of my heart… from the experiences I had had of a love and a life that knew me… the whole me… and gave voice to how Jesus kicks open the closed doors that limit our sense of self… and self-worth… and gives us the strength and courage to stand for justice and respecting the dignity of ourselves and all human beings.

When I said those words… my body was flooded with a warmth that Peter must have felt when Jesus blessed him with the nickname, “The Rock.”

Simon…now nicknamed “Peter… The Rock” had given voice to something greater than anything he could’ve asked or imagined on his own.

And he made this bold confession in the presence of the others… all of whom had attempted to give a “right” answer to the question, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

Now… to be fair to the disciples… Jesus’ question was about “What’s the buzz on the street” about his identity. And they were being truthful.

People really didn’t know what to make of this itinerant rabbi… and they were falling back on the things they did know.

They knew about the prophets.

They knew about John the Baptist.

They also knew the hardships and yet faithfulness of Jeremiah standing in the midst of the ruins and crisis of the Jewish diaspora.

It’s also important to know where Jesus and the disciples are when he’s asking them this question.

They’ve been on quite the trek through the Palestinian countryside.

As we heard last week… they were in region of Tyre and Sidon with the Canaanite woman along the Mediterranean Sea.

They’ve traveled down along the Sea of Galilee up a mountain where Jesus healed and fed four thousand people.

And now they’re standing in the middle Caesera Phillipi… which is about twenty miles north of the Sea of Galilee almost to the Syrian border… so about the distance of here to Lakeland. 

This city has changed hands several times. And while there are Jewish residents…it is largely pagan territory.

In fact… scholars believe this whole exchange with Jesus is happening in front of a grotto dedicated to the birthplace of Pan… the Greek god of nature, fields, forests, mountains, flocks and shepherds.

So this discussion about the identity of Jesus is occurring in a place and at a time when this fledgling movement he’s leading is coming more into focus.

Jesus and the disciples are distinguishing themselves as Jews with a slightly different focus from that held by the scribes and the Pharisees.

In a way… Jesus’ question to the disciples is a little bit like crafting the mission statement for who this group is going to be.

How do they envision living and practicing and being this movement?

How do they know and understand what it is to be a follower of the ‘Son of the Living God’?

As much as these questions are about honing in on the identity of Jesus… it is also helping the disciples become clearer about their own identities as part of the Jesus Movement.

And—again—these questions posed and asked and pondered so many centuries ago remain the same questions for us today.

When we think about who is Jesus Christ…how do we answer that question?

How do we make a Peter-like confession… especially in our world where there are fewer and fewer people who profess a belief in Jesus Christ or even bother to associate with the Christian Church at all?

Do we recite the rote answers we learned in Sunday School or a catechism class?

Or do we allow Jesus’ question to lead us to our own break out moment of finding the words… the images… or the phrases that tell our story and what Jesus has meant to us?

Is Jesus a liberator?

A friend?

A model of a life to emulate?

If you don’t have an answer to that question today… or even tomorrow… that’s OK. Prayer and time are all part of the work of discipleship…and discipleship isn’t a destination; it’s a lifelong journey.

In Paul’s Letter to the Romans… he notes that we are all given different gifts… different ways in which God is working in us and through us to accomplish the mission of God to bring relief to those in need…and freedom to those getting weighed down.

When we know who Jesus is…who Jesus was… and continues to be for us…it’s like a supercharge to those gifts so we can make strides toward ending the various “isms”—racism, sexism, heterosexism, ageism—that continue to keep us divided and angry as a people.

When we know Jesus then we too will be like Peter…the rock upon which God’s dream for this world will become more fully and beautifully realized through us and our interactions with others.

In the name of God….F/S/HS.

 

 

Comfortable Words in an Uncomfortable Time: A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday After Pentecost

Preached for online Morning Prayer worship, St. Thomas Episcopal Church, Thomasville, GA.

These last few lines from our Matthew reading this morning are among my favorites in Scripture. I remember when I was a child in my church up in New Hampshire hearing our curate Rich Weymouth read them aloud right before the offertory. His voice conveyed such tenderness and kindness that it felt like a friend was pulling up a chair, wrapping their arm around my shoulders, and giving me reassurance that everything was going to be OK.

The disciples needed to hear these comforting words, too. Jesus has told them they’re gonna face resistance. Even when they’re speaking words of love and freedom…some people will not want to hear it. This God work is not easy.

To illustrate this…Jesus paints a picture of this resistance. This generation…his generation…are a people who don’t respond appropriately to anything… good or bad. Play the flute, be joyful, dance and be happy...this generation sits on the sidelines and mutters they don’t take part in such silliness. Come crying and mourning at loss and death? This people shrugs and laughs it off: it’s no big deal. They say that John the Baptizer’s religious practice of self-denial is demonic…and Jesus’ ultra-inclusive religion of love is not orthodox enough. Nothing will satisfy or convince this generation. They know better. Good luck to the disciples dealing with this mess!

Why aren’t the people convinced? Why do they resist so much? Why are they afraid to turn around, to change?

I feel like these are the same questions that we are wrestling with today. We celebrated Independence Day, but it hardly feels like a time of celebration. Racism is still dividing us, and we are caught in the net of a viral pandemic that has left many of us feeling very dependent. I’ve been shocked as I watch videos of grown men and women going ballistic in a grocery store when a teen-age clerk asks them to put on a mask. It makes no sense to me.

I know people who have or have had COVID-19. Some have died, some are still suffering from constant headache and short-term memory loss. Others have recovered relatively unscathed but may have lingering effects crop up years down the road. I can’t ignore how COVID-19 has exposed the gaps in our healthcare system and is disproportionately affecting racial minorities and the poor. All that makes me cringe as I watch the unmasked person screaming at the store employee while hurling packaged meats and loaves of bread to floor.

Is this rage really because of a request to put on a mask?

In seminary, one of the things they ask us to do is to pay attention to people and listen with what they call “our third ear.” It’s a way of being compassionate in times of high emotions and anxiety. And while I can’t say that I would have the patience to engage a person screaming at me and throwing things on the floor, I think that behavior might be pointing to something larger than a mask and more universal to all of us.

I think we are scared. This virus makes it impossible for us to go about our lives as we always have. We can’t gather together. We can’t sing in groups. We can’t go out to eat or drink. Businesses are closing. Unemployment benefits go unpaid. We are facing the uncomfortable truth that we are not in control. And when doctors and scientists come to us and say, “Put on a mask and keep social distance,” we become like that generation who thought John the Baptizer had a demon and Jesus was a glutton and drunkard.

But still…the doctors persist. The nurses keep emphasizing the public health advice. And now, even more politicians on both sides of the aisle are saying we must accept the reality of this virus, so please wear a mask in public.

Yet the resistance to these instructions continues.

So, do we give up? Do we say as Paul wrote to the Romans that we know what we ought to do, but we do the thing we hate?

We are living in a time of trouble on so many fronts. Life is hard, overwhelming and scary. Change is difficult. But Jesus’ message is that we must keep pressing forward even though we will suffer at times and may even lose a friend or two along the way. That’s part of the cost of discipleship…which brings us back to those comfortable words.

‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’

Taking just a minute here…Imagine for a moment what troubles you? What makes you uncertain?

Now think of what it feels like to have someone be with you in that place of discomfort and fear. A friend or a loved one who listens attentively and stays with you in that place.

Now…imagine for a moment another person…someone who is a stranger to you. Are they feeling troubled? Do they feel anxious? As you listen to them…what are they telling you?

Ask yourself: what might I do to make their burden a little bit lighter?

This is where the Spirit of God is meeting us in this time. When we can find fellowship and kinship with another…when we can hear in their experiences echoes of our own…we come closer to living out our faith as Christians to be the true friend to another child of God.

The tasks and the difficulties before us…our race relations or COVID-19…are no less weighty…but we are not alone. Jesus is with us. He’s teaching and leading us in how to take care of one another and have compassion even when we meet with resistance. This is what it means to walk the path of Love.

We who have ears to hear, listen.

Looking for That Light in the Darkness

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who have lived in a land of deep darkness on them a light has shined." These are the opening lines that we always hear from the prophet Isaiah on Christmas Eve as our Episcopal service progresses toward the greatest light that Christians have known in the darkest times: the light of Christ. That light, for many of us, is like the steady glow of a lighthouse that breaks through the thickest, most pea-soup type of fog so that we may find our way home. It is an unfailing light which we can see best when we open our eyes.

If there was ever a time when I feel that I need this light to shine, now would be it. As I've been blogging throughout this Advent, it seems that this celebration of the nativity of Christ is coming at a time when our nation is going through painful realizations of how deep our divisions are along color lines. We are still locked in a battle over whether marriage equality is legal, let alone OK, in the state of Florida with lawyers looking for any minute loophole they can find in a federal judges' order to keep lesbian and gay couples as second-class citizens. Police officers are wantonly gunned down in New York City and instead of seeing this as more evidence of the proliferation of guns and the problems of mentally ill people getting guns, there is more yelling, more fingerpointing, more blaming anyone or anything than the individual who committed the crime and the powers that colluded to give him access to a weapon. We are in a scream fest and we are at each others throats while the band plays on.

In many respects, this upheaval and disquiet is similar to the world in which the Word became flesh and shined a new light. There was oppression. The haves were quite satisfied to be the haves, and not always doing the social contract duty of looking out for the children and the widows. Some worked in collusion with the Roman authorities to burden the Israelites with taxes. There was fracturing and division. Different stressors. Different times. No internet or Twitter feed, but still, things were out-of-whack. This is the world into which Christ is born. And this birth is the hope of a people searching for a Messiah.

In our world today, we may not have a baby being born in a barn somewhere who will take on the role of Messiah. Instead, what I think is expected is for us to realize that the birth of Christ is not merely an outward and visible sign, depicted sweetly in a creche, but rather it is the birth of the spirit of Christ in us to grow as he did from that baby dependent on the love of a mother and the dreams of a father to survive into the man who would see the disparities, discord and brokenness of his time and tend to the person in need while calling out the forces that caused the injury in the first place. Jesus didn't make his statements so much as personal indictments of individuals, but he would question the motivation of the individuals which contributed to systematic oppression. We are being asked to do the same as we look at our world today. Who are the people being kept down, being left out, still sitting in darkness? What is colluding to hold them back? This where the light of Christ is ready to enter. Are we willing to be that light?

 O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the

brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known
the mystery of that Light on earth, may also enjoy him
perfectly in heaven; where with you and the Holy Spirit he
lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

     

"Let's Not Just Make Noise; Let's Make a Difference"

I tuned in to CSPAN last night to hear the outcome of the St. Louis County grand jury investigation into the shooting death of Michael Brown in Ferguson this past August. I knew CSPAN would provide the coverage, sans talking heads, so that I could make my own conclusions about what was said. And what I heard from the District Attorney made me scratch my head and say, "Huh?" 

I appreciated the methodical detail of the course of events that led to Ferguson Police Officer Darren Wilson crossing paths with 18-year-old Ferguson resident Michael Brown. But as I heard the story unfold, I couldn't help but wish that this were one of those movies where we could pause the action and allow for an alternate ending. Did Officer Wilson really need to back up his vehicle and block Brown and his friend? Did Brown really need to have an altercation through the window of the police SUV with Wilson? When Wilson's gun went off and grazed Brown's thumb sending the 18 year-old man fleeing down the street, did Officer Wilson really need to pursue him, or could he have waited for back up to arrive? And did Officer Wilson really need to fire off repeated rounds at Brown, even when Brown turned around? The District Attorney said there were conflicting stories. That's believable since it was a highly emotionally-charged scene, and probably the adrenaline of witnesses was running as hard and fast as the two men engaged in the fight. But I just can't shake the fact that Brown didn't have a gun. Officer Wilson did. Even the forensic evidence cited showed that Brown was collapsing forward and yet the bullets kept flying. And one family lost a child, a young man.

The grand jury took what was presented to them, and concluded that Officer Wilson was within his right as a law enforcement officer to respond as he did. Missouri had spoken, and America reacted to the news. 

Many of us, African-Americans and people of all colors, were, sadly, not entirely surprised by this decision. But we were disappointed. Many were angry. Unfortunately for business owners along a block of West Florissant Avenue in Ferguson, MO, the anger erupted in setting buildings ablaze and destroying the workplaces. The news media, naturally, gravitated toward the more violent outbursts even though there were peaceful demonstrations and vigils taking place not only in the St. Louis area, but all over the country. As I noted on Facebook, division and fear make for good television visuals. Nobody wants to show the non-violent protests, the people allowing themselves to scream out for justice and not just burn the whole thing down.

I understand the rage. I cannot help but feel the powerlessness of people who, rightly or wrongly, believe the whole system is set up against them. How many times have unarmed black men and women been shot and killed, yet nothing happens? How many parents have had to teach their sons how to behave when the cops approach them, and now even telling their children to put their hands up or out and away from their body doesn't necessarily save them? And there won't be a trial, held in the light of the public eye, to get at the truth in this case. Even the announcement of the non-indictment came at night and not during the day.

I understand the tension of the police. It is not easy to put on a uniform that invites such disparate responses of repulsion on the one hand, and adoration to an extreme on the other hand. It's a dangerous and difficult job, particularly in a country which has a love affair with individual rights to be their own private militia. I was once a student officer with the University of Missouri police department, so I know the type of abusive behavior the cops endure from the public they serve. 

But what I don't understand is how we can keep having these same scenarios play out over and over and over where, at the end of the day, a young African-American or other person of color who is unarmed ends up dead, and there are no consequences, no discipline, and...effectively...no real justice.

Some have argued that Michael Brown wasn't an innocent choir boy on his way to his grandma's house. They note that the confrontation between Wilson and Brown stemmed from the report of someone matching Brown's description having just stolen some cigarillos from a convenience store. Officer Wilson testified that he saw cigars in Brown's hand and he realized that he was likely the thief. There are many, mostly white Americans, saying that Brown shouldn't have broken the law by stealing the cigars. And there are those who go so far as to say, "He got what he deserved."

I have to wonder when it became justice to shoot and kill someone for shoplifting? If that's now a capital crime, then there are lots of kids and young people who won't make it to their adult years.

And it doesn't answer the central question that is still in my mind: why did Officer Wilson feel so threatened and afraid that he shot to kill, rather than wound, Michael Brown?

I don't think we'll ever really know that answer. And so I go to the place that Michael Brown's parents have gone: demand that their son's death not just be more noise in the racial clammoring of America, but that we do something to make a difference. The difference needs to be greater than Ferguson because what happened there on a mid-day August Saturday could easily have happened here in Tallahassee, or in Seattle, or in West Roxbury. Communities of color have very little trust that the police are there to serve and protect them. Constant racial profiling hasn't helped and may actually be contributing to a subconscious belief that everybody is a bad guy until proven not guilty. The Browns have called for all police to have body cameras to record their interactions. That will document what happens at traffic stops and such. But there are still more things that may need to happen. And it will take all of us, police officers and the communities they serve, to come together and work toward solutions that will address the growing mistrust.

My faith tells me that I am to strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being. That is my ongoing commitment in my hope and desire that we will all one day see that we are a human race made up of many hues which also color our experiences which in turn become our realities. I will commit to the long slog toward making true equality THE reality.