Today is Pentecost, often referred to as the ‘Birthday of the Church’. When we celebrate it, we get to relive, and in some ways, experience the mystery and the power of the Holy Spirit.
The text tells us that that many of those gathered were amazed and astonished, perplexed even at what was happening. Others thought that the group was drunk on wine. The image of the Holy Spirit resting on the faithful, like tongues of fire, is mysterious enough, but add in the group’s ability to understand each other regardless of their native language, and the mysterious becomes miraculous. There aren’t too many sightings of the Holy Spirit these days, at least, not like this. No blaring headlines or breaking news segments to tell us that a group of people were overcome by the Holy Spirit for a time, and suddenly could understand each other regardless of their language. I’m sure the Holy Spirit is upon us at times: many can sense the presence, even without the tongues of fire, just as many sense the absence of the Spirit. Last year, I preached about Pentecost, and I suggested that one universal way to let others know we care is to use our smiles. Quoting David Crosby, Stephen Stills, and Paul Kantner, from the song Wooden Ships, I suggested that ‘if you smile at me, I will understand, ‘cuz that is something everybody everywhere does in the same language’. In looking back over the last year, however, I’m starting to get the sense that a smile might not be enough. I may not have been wrong, but what I know now is that a smile, a universal sign of sister- and brotherhood isn’t enough. The world as we know it needs something a lot stronger than a smile between strangers. Given the kind of violence and hate the world has witnessed in the last year, a smile for a neighbor, or a stranger, or even an enemy isn’t even a band-aid on the wounds inflicted by the forces of evil. Some of you know that I was in Buffalo in the aftermath of the racist killings at the Tops Market on the eastside, to support the pastors of those communities, and to support the work of the wider church seeking to help in any way possible. I met the United Church of Christ Associate General Minister for Justice and the Local Church, Rev. Traci Blackmon there, and together, we visited the site, now a memorial to those who lost their lives, attended prayer vigils, and a free concert for the families of the slain. We also established a working group of pastors in the area who will receive resources from the United Church of Christ Neighbors in Need fund to try and address some of the systemic ills that plague areas like the East-side of Buffalo. In giving some remarks at one of the prayer vigils, Rev. Blackmon told us, and I paraphrase here, ‘there is a lot of hate in the world, so we’re going to have to love the hell out of this place!’ So there it is: a smile isn’t going to cut it in these hateful and violent times. Smile is nice, non-threatening, but under-powered for what we need. What we are going to do, is find a way to love the hell out this place, because love is so much more powerful than hate, and so much more powerful than what a smile suggests. In the short-term, we need to love every family touched by violence. Love them as they mourn, and as they heal, as best as they are able. But we can’t stop there. We’re also going to have to love the hell out of those who would use violence to achieve their goals. More on that in a bit. In order to maximize our resources, in order to bring extravagant, unconditional, and universal love to bear upon the hate in this world, we have to start close to home. And by close to home, I mean that we have to be able to love ourselves first, before we can love others. By loving the people God created us to be, we can build a strong love foundation. So if any of us struggle with not being able to love ourselves, I say this: if God loves us, can we find it in ourselves to love ourselves too? And if so, then we can turn our love to those closest to us. Our family, and friends. Letting them know we love them may seem redundant, but really, who doesn’t love to hear that they are loved? Once we become accustomed to telling others we love them, we can also work on showing them. How do our actions coincide with our words? Can we be doing more to bring them in alignment? If our actions don’t broadcast our love, then we’re not doing it right, and we have to go back to the beginning. And once our actions match our love for others, it’s time to start spreading that love around, to neighbors, to strangers, to anyone who is in need. In the context of our worshiping community, that means remembering to always have our mission aligned with our love. If someone were to ask who we love, we can show them our mission work, and say our aim is to love the hell out this place. If we have come to a place where we love ourselves as individuals, and we love those closest to us, and we love our neighbors, and our actions match our love, then it will be time to really dig deep. You probably already know where I’m going with this, don’t you? One of the more challenging things Jesus asks us to do is to love our enemies. No matter how you define enemy, literal or symbolic, our journey as faithful children of God includes loving our enemies. Loving those who mean to do harm, those who hate others because of the color of their skin, or because of who they love, or because of what they believe. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but we can’t hate the hate out of others, we can only love the hate out of them. Here’s the thing: we have to love the hell out of those who would use violence to express their self-hatred, we have love the hell out of those who would use violence to express their racism, their hetero-sexism, their ableism, whatever their misguided philosophy or manifesto. In order to love the hell out of this place, we will have to bring our resources to bear in order to get help for those who hate. And, we’re going to have to love them enough to keep the weapons of destruction out of their hands. Our collective resolve as a country, as a group of communities, can’t be based on hatred for the violence done in the name of racism or any other ‘ism’, it’s going to have to be based on love for others. I alluded to this in the Sacred Seeds earlier, but in our love for others, can we please find a way to love our children, to love the vulnerable, even if it means that we sacrifice some of our freedoms? How many of us here, in person or online, really need an assault weapon and high capacity magazine? I’m not looking to get into an argument about how this is a slippery slope on the right to bear arms, I’ve already made up my mind about this: A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed. How many of us are in a well regulated militia? Military or law enforcement? Those are the people who get to keep and bear arms. Not 18 year olds who are barely old enough to vote, much less have access to assault weapons and Kevlar vests. Can we love enough to bring our resources to bear on this issue? Can we find the resolve to not only love potential perpetrators out of their hate, their self-hatred, and their hate of others, but can we also love our children enough to prevent potential perpetrators from having access to efficient weapons designed and manufactured for only one purpose: to kill? I think we can. It starts with being able to love ourselves as God has made us, with all of our shortcomings, with all of our foibles. And it continues with our love of our family and close friends, and continues still with our love of neighbor and love of stranger. The ultimate test of our use of universal love, the love we remember on Pentecost Sunday, is our ability to love our enemies, to love the world God created so much, that we are willing to sacrifice heard-earned resources, and maybe even some of constitutionally guaranteed rights in order to make the world a safer place. If there was a time when a simple smile signified acceptance, gentleness, and safety, well and good. But I believe that we need something stronger than acceptance, gentleness, and safety in these times: we need love. We need extravagant, assertive, insistent, unwavering, and unconditional love, because it’s only with these gifts that we will be able to love the hell out of this place. Let’s get started. Amen.
0 Comments
Holy scripture has many uses: the bible has within its pages, history, poetry, prayer, theology, instruction, and importantly, comfort. Many of us turn to the bible for comfort. Reassurance in difficult times, a reminder of the love God has for us, and for God’s creation. Familiar passages that can calm us, or steady us, favorite words that help us through difficult times.
Students of the bible learn to look for ways that a particular passage was intended to be used by the author. Context can be important, but much of our sacred texts have uses outside of their original purpose. 1 Corinthians was written by Paul to a church in conflict. His intent was to instruct and reassure an anxious church that they could learn to treat each other with love and respect, even if they disagreed. And yet, many pastors find themselves using 1 Corinthians 13 in other settings: weddings, anniversary celebrations, even funerals. Paul’s words on love, originally meant for a conflicted church, has truth and meaning for others beyond his intended audience. This can be true for much of the Bible. Today’s gospel lesson from John tells of the time Jesus spoke with his disciples about his departure from earth, how the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, would remind them of all that he had taught them. The disciples were nervous, anxious, unsure of the future. It appears that Jesus wanted to reassure the disciples and comfort them in their anxiety. The heart of the passage, the core message from Jesus is this: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. Comforting words indeed. In the wake of the racist murders in Buffalo last week, I turned to this passage for comfort. Partly because I was already working on it for this week’s sermon, but also because it is one of my favorite scriptures. Seeking the Peace of Jesus, the peace he gives to us, I sought to find a way for my heart to not be troubled. I looked for a way for my heart to not be afraid. But try as I might, the challenging truth that keeps coming back to me again and again is that this particular passage at this particular time is only for the family and loved ones and the community of the ones whose lives were taken. This passage isn’t for us. Not today. In fact, I believe that as a worshiping community, our hearts should be very troubled, and our hearts should be very afraid: the white supremacy, the evil and racist philosophy that led an 18 year old boy to commit murder is alive and well in our world. And the comfort of the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus sends in his own name, the peace Jesus left and gives through the Holy Spirit today, is meant for those who mourn the sudden and violent loss of their loved ones, taken because of the color of their skin, or because of their presence in a community of color. Jesus gives those families and the communities of color terrorized by this violence Peace. Unconditional peace. But I believe that our hearts need to be troubled, and they need to be afraid, until we see the hatred and the violence countered by prayer, thwarted by faith, eliminated by love. There are some ways we can counter the evil racism that threatens our communities: prayer, partnership, participation, promotion, practice and planting. Whether we are homebound, or working to bring food to the community that has temporarily lost its only grocery store, we all can have a role in combatting the racism that sparked this violence. We know we can pray. And pray we will. Pray when we light the Peace Candle, pray when another victim is laid to rest, pray when the wounds are reopened at a trial, pray to have the resources and strength to look at our own biases… But that’s not enough, is it? We can partner with faith communities of color in this important work of fighting racism. Partner with pastors and ministers and individuals and community leaders. We can participate in learning events that aim to educate us on the evils of systemic racism, and the evils of white supremacy. If we want to eradicate the scourge of racism, we’re going to have to learn how it germinates, how it’s nurtured, how it spreads. And once we learn that, we can find ways to counter it, to prevent it from spreading. We can promote peace. We can embody the peaceful love of Jesus, and we can promote the sharing of that peace wherever we go. We can practice our faith. Building relationships with others who wish to fight racism. We can focus our mission, our resources, on programs and organizations that make it their business to counter the effects of racism. And we can plant Sacred Seeds. We can take risks to plant Sacred Seeds where we might otherwise think they wouldn’t take hold. In our families, in our friend groups, we all have people whose comments and beliefs suggest they are influenced by racism. We can counter those comments with reminders of Christ’s Peace, God’s love, and the Holy Spirit’s comfort. It won’t be easy. But it’s necessary. Our hearts should be troubled. Our hearts should be afraid. The comfort and the reassurance from the Holy Spirit that Jesus speaks of in today’s John passage is for the loved ones and communities of: Celestine Chaney, Roberta Drury, Andre Mckniel, Katherine Massey, Margus Morrison, Heyward Patterson, Aaron Salter, Geraldine Talley, Ruth Whitfield, Pearl Young. And for the continued healing of Christopher Braden, Zaire Goodman, and Jennifer Warrington. We may be shocked, we may be scandalized, we may be paralyzed by the breathtakingly evil act committed in the name of racism, but I can tell you that we are not powerless. We have all the resources and strength we need to affect a positive change in a world that desperately needs our help. Working to fight the results of racism embedded in systems all around us, working to fight the sin-sick soul of our own biases, there is comfort in singing with our sisters and brothers of color, joining melody and harmony to a powerful spiritual, known for it’s longing for a better world, there is a balm in Gilead. When we do the work of fighting racism, these words can be for us: we aren’t appropriating them, or usurping them, not when we pray for a better world, and partner, and promote, and practice, and participate, and plant…we can find comfort in words that were used by enslaved people to encourage and support those who were victims of a system designed to keep them helpless and powerless. These words can be for us when we sing about our own sin-sick souls, when we add our voices to those who have been affected by racism and racist acts, for generations. For now, let our hearts be troubled, and let our hearts be afraid. Let that trouble and fear motivate us to fight the evils of white supremacy and racism, near and far, wherever we can, whenever we can. The seeds that we plant will flourish, the relationships we build will strengthen the resolve and the resources of our communities to fight racism wherever it rears its ugly head. The love that grows will always be stronger than the hate that hovers around us. There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole, there is a balm in Gilead, to heal the sin-sick soul. But the comfort of the Holy Spirit, detailed in John’s gospel, promised by Jesus to his disciples, given unconditionally, let that comfort be for those who lost their lives at the hands of evil, let that comfort be for those who loved them, and for those whom they loved. Amen. |
WatchClick here to watch our scripture and sermons playlist on YouTube. (link opens in a new window)
Archives
July 2023
Categories
All
|