On
Advent 1 Father Jon’s sermon asked us to use advent as a reminder to stay awake
and alert. He stressed there is so much
brokenness, so much violence, so many sensational news stories that compete for
our attention that it is easy to move from one to the other and forget the last. As an illustration, he reminded us there are
still Christians being persecuted in Iraq but we don’t hear much about it
anymore; there is a new story—a new headline.
He challenged us to not let the media decide when it’s time to let
something go, to fall back asleep, but rather to stay awake and alert to the
world and to respond. That sermon stayed
with me for days and then just a few days ago it hit me again.
Most
of you know last weekend I took the 10 states in five days trip. On Wednesday the babies and I (yes, they would
be my 14 and almost 16 year old children) set off for a youth conference in New
Orleans. We got as far as Athens, Alabama
(not the Athens I love….), checked into a hotel and headed out for dinner. We were seated in a booth—the babies across
from me. I just wanted to watch my
beloved Hoos (and might I add my beloved undefeated
Hoos) play a little hoops. Suddenly both
babies were turning red and saying, “I can’t believe it.” “Not again.”
“This can’t be happening.” “Mama,
what are we gonna do?” You see, this was
the night it was announced the police officer was not indicted in Eric Garner’s
death. They were facing a different TV
and that was showing CNN. They became more
and more agitated—louder and redder and kept saying, “Mama, what are we going
to do?” I began glancing around the
restaurant partially to see what kind of scene we were creating but also hoping
that maybe someone, anyone, had an answer because I sure didn’t.
We
headed back to the hotel and they kept asking what we were going to do; they
kept saying, “This just isn’t right.” and pacing. I texted SK and my husband telling them what
was going on (again hoping someone had an answer) and what I got back from SK
was, “Good they should be outraged.” and from Chris, “I don’t know what to tell
them but I’m glad they care.” I finally
went to sleep; they continued to watch the coverage and to pace. I woke up haunted—haunted and hopeful. I didn’t have an answer for them, but we were
heading to Province IV where I knew there were adults and other youth who would
also be struggling with the question and who would talk and pray about it. The future leaders of the church in this
Province were gathering and I know them well enough to know the church will be
in good hands, so I was hopeful---and relieved.
As we got on the interstate I shared with them my assurance that this
would be discussed by future leaders of the church and that I was relieved
about that. Caroline in her very
Caroline way said, “That’s great Mama, but I don’t just want to sit around and
talk and pray about it, I want to DO something.” I heard her…
These
events this week have me thinking a lot about what it is that we as Christians
bring to the table of doing something. Why
should we get together with one another and talk and pray? Why should we partner with other agencies in
our work? What makes us different than other
people, other organizations that want to do something; that in fact do do something. Why should we respond as Christians when
there are many other organizations—the Kiwanis, the Junior League, and others
that might be able to respond even better?
Other organizations that might have more organization? What do we bring to the table that is
different? Why do we as Christians need
to be at the table? Each week right here
in our church we feed and clothe those in need—how is what we do any different
than Dare to Care or the clothes closet on Broadway?
I
believe that what makes us different is that we bring the presence of God and
we bring hope. Today marks the
anniversary of the massacre in Newtown Conn.
I am blessed to have a friend in ministry there and almost every day she
shares with me another example of how the presence of God was brought and
continues to be brought to the people of Newtwon. As dark as it was, Christians showed up and
there was light—perhaps it was only a glimmer for a time, but the light of
Christ was and is and will continue to be present in that community as they
heal and it will be present throughout the world as we all heal. In this world there are many people, good
people, who move from aiding one problem to another; people who want nothing
more than to help others. What we as Christians bring in addition to our hands
to do the work is our hearts filled with the love of Christ and the hope, the belief, that one day there won’t be any
more brokenness. One day the world will
be whole and good and right, there will be no more hungry or lonely or
afraid. There will be no more oppression
and violence—there will no longer be the next story.
I
am going to read an essay to you. This
essay was written by a young teenager last week, the day after my children
learned about Eric Garner—she is one of my best high school friend’s daughter. Some of you might find it too political for
the pulpit; too raw. Some of you might
even be angry. However you hear it I
think it is important to remember that our youth care. And I think it’s time we listen to them but
not just listen that we do with
them. No matter your opinion, I ask that
you hear it all the way through and that you pay particular attention to the
end.
Really, you don’t need to
develop an opinion about the devastating events that have been occurring more
and more across our country recently. As
humans, we all should have the common sense to see that what is happening is
wrong, even if others are telling us differently. If you are human, you know
the difference between self defense and murder.
If you are human you know that if a person has been brought to the
ground and has said, “I can’t breathe” nine times, they are not a threat. If you are human, you know that a man
supporting six children does not deserve to die for a petty crime while his
killer walks free. If you are human, you
know what putting both hands in the air means, and you know that it doesn’t
mean eight bullets in the chest. If you
are human, you know sadness and loss and anger, you know that people should be able
to express feeling and fight for something they believe in, and you know they
don’t deserve to be shot down for standing up.
If you are human you know the difference between an innocent child
playing in a park and a person who could potentially put others’ lives at risk,
you know that twelve years old is too young to have been put in the ground just
two days ago, that an officer’s “mistake” couldn’t possibly be a good enough
excuse for a grieving mother who will never see her child grow up. If you are human, you know that a black boy carrying
nothing but an Arizona iced tea and a bag of Skittles is less likely to be a
threat than a racist with a loaded gun.
And if you are human, you have the common sense to look at the world
around you and see that something needs to change. It is time for us to be more human. ~Addie Szczesiul
Something
needs to change. Over 2000 years ago,
God knew something needed to be changed and God became human to show us what
being human can and should be. God came in
the flesh so that we could live into our full humanity. God knows sadness and loss and anger, and God
in the flesh showed us that people should be able to express feelings and fight
for something they believe in. Jesus did that and was crucified for standing up
to what was wrong. It is time for us to
stay awake, to see that something needs to change and to strive day after day
to live into our full, complete, and good humanity.
As
Christians we bring the hope that through the brokenness there can be
blessing. That no matter how dark it
seems there can be and is the presence of God—that healing and reconciliation can
and will happen. God came in the flesh
and God’s human body was broken, but from that brokenness came blessing for us
all. Each week as we celebrate the
Eucharist, we remember the blessing we receive from that brokenness. Rowan Williams writes in his new book, “By
identifying himself with the broken bread and the spilled wine, the broken flesh
and the shed blood, Jesus says that this death which is approaching is a door
into hope. And it is at that moment when
he is looking forward most clearly and vividly to his death, even before the
Garden of Gethsemane casts its shadow, that Jesus gives thanks. That is, he connects his experience with the
reality of God, because that is what thanksgiving does….And when Jesus gives
thanks at that moment before the breaking and spilling, before the wounds and
the blood it is as if he is connecting the darkest places of human experience
with God the Giver; as if he is saying that even in these dark places God
continues to give, and therefore, we must continue to give thanks.” (p.
48) He continues, “Sometimes after
receiving Holy Communion, a I look around a congregation, large or small, I have
a sensation I can only sum up as this is
it—this is the moment when people see one another and the world properly;
when they are filled with the Holy Spirit and when they are equipped to go and
do God’s work. It my last only a few
seconds, but there it is. It has
happened and it happens again and again.” (p. 58)
Today
as you come to the altar and receive, leave and look to your left and right—look
at the humanness and the image of God in each of those here and think about the
humanness and the image of God in ALL those throughout the world. It may only last a few seconds, but perhaps
if we keep coming and we keep trying as we leave each week then next week it
will be a few more seconds and the week after a little longer, and the week
after a little longer until one day it will just be it. Amen.
Williams,
Rowan; Being Christian Baptism, Bible, Eucharist, Prayer. (Grand Rapids,
MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing,
2014)
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