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Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts

Monday, June 20, 2016

The Demands of a Broken-Hearted God



Galatians 3:23-29 & Luke 8:26-39
For many of us, thinking back on the parent-child relationship calls to mind complicated feelings and memories, especially as they apply to the demands of our parents. Who here does not remember a time, when their parents seemed overly demanding, with high expectations and what you deemed as low tolerance for goof-ups? Even in the best parent-child relationships, although the intent of the parent is good, reasonable and responsible, the demands of a parent may seem harsh and unwelcomed. Especially during those rebellious, teenage years. Sometimes those feelings persist into adulthood.
Well, my friends, the truth is, ours is a demanding, unsettling God, a God who also makes demands of us, demands we are often unprepared to hear and unwilling to follow.
We much prefer the God who is full of grace, (which he is) who forgives us all our sins, (which, through Christ, he does), who promises us great things, who blesses us abundantly, who is ever for us and ever before us, and never asks us for a thing.
So, while it is true that God is the giver of all good things, there is also the other aspect of God, the God who, in relationship with us says, “yes, I love you and you are mine, and there is nothing in this world or the next that can change that. I have given you unending life through Jesus. But it is not for you alone. It is for the goodness of the kingdom of God in which you have a stake. Therefore, there are things I need you to do.” And then come the demands.
The demands of God begin with things like,
believe in me,
trust in me,
            love me, and
be still, and know that I am God.  
            Frankly, those seem like okay demands, inviting us into a relationship where God is our rock.
But then, there are these others: Look out and stand up for those who are ignored, preyed upon, or oppressed. Show mercy to all, love the stranger, forgive as you wish to be forgiven. Turn away from the things that have come before, and follow me by following Jesus.  
Of course there are these demands we Lutherans especially love to hate – “go!” Jesus says, “Go out into the world; spread the good news; tell my story; tell others about the good things you have seen and heard. And remember, to follow me, you will love like me, live like me, and die like me.”
Whoa! These demands are a little more tricky, and we are as resistant to those as we were to those of our earthly parents.
Then we realize the truth: This loving, demanding God has expectations. And it is our nature to push back against them. They are demands we often ignore. They call us out of our comfort zone. They make this relationship with God not about me anymore, but about God, and about the things and the people God values and cares for.
When it comes right down to it, these demands have one thing at the core – love. They all hinge on what Jesus called the great commandment, that we love the Lord our God above everything else and that love be at the core of all we do, of our relationships with all people.
Obeying God then becomes about sharing this love that Jesus modeled so perfectly and allowing it to shape our lives so clearly that others will see and know that we are disciples of Christ.
Events in our world today call us to be ever more faithful stewards of this family that God has created but which has become so fractured and torn apart by sin.  These events testify just how much the world needs to know the healing, saving, inclusive love of God. It is this love, created by faith through Christ, of which Paul writes when he argues that in Christ, we are made children of God and we are clothed with Christ.
Because of Jesus, within the human family created by God, there is to be no  distinction – no difference - among us. In Paul’s words, There is no longer Jew or Greek, no longer slave or free, no longer male or female. There is to be among us no distinction by age, class, color, language, nationality, sexuality or religion.
In the human family of God’s creation we are all one, while at the same time expressing the individuality with which we are blessed in myriad ways. We are all members of one family, where love and acceptance, mutual respect and equality are presumed. In this family of God, we are not all the same, but we are all cherished the same, with no distinction in the economy of God’s care – black, white, Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic, Taoist; rich, and poor, straight or queer, God has created and loves us all.
In the past year, as we have watched, horrified at events unfolding in the world all around us, we have become more aware than ever of our own failures and at the systemic failure to make God’s way known. It was one year ago this week that the massacre of black Christians during a bible study in a church in Charleston, South Carolina took place; a massacre committed by one of our own, deeply entrenched in racist ideology.
A week ago, as we gathered for worship here in our sanctuary, news outlets were broadcasting the horrific details, yet unfolding, of another, larger, hate-inspired massacre, a mass killing that has earned the distinction of “largest-ever,” mass shooting in our country. The divide in our culture and in our country is so wide, and the bigotry and hatred of groups so pervasive, that this kind of violence has become routine, except by its scope. Who is possessed by demons now?
It has to stop. This, has. To. Stop. The God we experience and know abhors the killing, abhors the hatred, and is deeply saddened by the divisions and in-fighting that follows every one of these atrocities. We live in a society that is so divided by our differences that rather than come together in solidarity following each of these tragedies, we become further polarized.
The God who gave his own son over to death for the salvation of the world is a demanding God, a God who demands our love not only for Godself but for one another. The God who demands our compassion be poured out on the “least of these” will not stop sending us out to heal the sick and tend to the broken-hearted, and commands our love for all people.
The texts we have before us today invite and demand our participation in the mission of reaching out to those who are disenfranchised, those who are hated, those who are persecuted. The texts we have before us today testify to just how much the world needs to know the healing, saving, inclusive love of God.
In our Gospel story, Jesus and the disciples have just crossed the sea on their way to Gerasa, which is in Gentile territory. On the way the disciples’ boat was beset by a storm, which Jesus miraculously stilled – the discipes are amazed and frightened – how is it that Jesus has the power to still a stormy sea, calm the winds, and transform their terror?
When they arrive on the distant shore, they encounter a Gentile man whom Jesus heals, from whom demons, who obey Jesus’ command, are driven. Not only does the natural world of wind and rain and catapulting waves obey Jesus, but the supernatural world of demons knows and obeys him as well.
Jesus heals and transforms a man who has been so encumbered by demons that his whole identity has been swallowed up by their possession of him. So overcome by demons has the life of this man become that when Jesus asks him his name, he tragically replies not with a name as you and I have, but with a label that underscores the horrible possession he has endured – one that has rendered him inhuman. But Jesus knows better. Jesus connects him to his humanity.
My friends, there is nowhere that God will not go to reach, love and free those who are broken and despairing. Not only is the demoniac a Gentile, living in the wrong zip code, without a name of his own or an identity, but because of the demons possessing him, he has been hanging out in the tombs – you know – where dead people are lain.
On so many accounts, it would be understandable for Jesus to pass him by. He is perilously unclean – he is possessed by an unclean spirit, living in an unclean place, among the dead. By any measure, one to be avoided and despised. This is the very last place Jesus should be, and the very last person Jesus should have anything to do with. And yet – that is exactly where God usually shows up.
After his healing, he sits at the feet of Jesus – this is the place disciples sit. He wants to go where Jesus will go when he returns to Galilee. But Jesus tells him, no, stay and go – go tell the story of what I have done for you.
They will see your transformation and understand my power and authority.
Tell them that there is nowhere that God will not go to breathe life into those who are dead. Jesus does not leave this man unforsaken, but transformed. David Lose writes:
“…there is no place on earth that is God-forsaken. Moreover, and more importantly, there is no person that is God-forsaken. Unclean. Outcast. Abandoned. Unpopular. Incarcerated. Unbeliever. No one is left out. Consider, there is no indication that this Gentile man later became Jewish or, for that matter, Christian. He wants to follow Jesus, but Jesus sends him back home with the instructions, “Go and tell what God has done for you.”
To put all this another way: There are no conditions to be met to receive God’s love. You don’t have to be wealthy…or poor. You don’t have to be from one ethnic group…or another. You don’t have to have believed your whole life, or come to faith only recently, or have any faith at all. Jesus seeks out everyone, even this unclean man possessed by an unclean spirit living in an unclean place. And just so God loves all: male and female; young and old; gay or straight; white, black, Asian, Latino; believers and non-believers; Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, atheist; the list goes on.
“Which might make us ask, where are we willing to go? Whom are we willing to love? In the wake of one more violent crime of hate and terror, we need, I think, first to be reminded that God is always among those in greatest pain and need and, second, that we are sent to go and do likewise. This week, that means God was particularly present in Orlando, and so should we, whether physically present, via vigil other means of support, or in our own corporate and personal prayer.
“This is not often easy work, of course, but we take it up and go out knowing that as God is sending us, God is with us, working through us to seek out those in need, to share a word of mercy and grace, and to witness to the hope we have in Jesus, the one who continues to seek us out when we feel down and out, caught in the shadow lands, eager for a new name, identity and future. 



Thanks be to God!




Sunday, June 21, 2015

Crossing to the Other Side

Mark 4:35-46
        In the Gospel text today, we see the revelation of Jesus Christ as God’s power and authority in our world. Jesus is God’s abiding presence in the life of the kingdom of God – this life into which God is inviting all people. Jesus is God with us and in our gospel we see God’s power and authority at work as Jesus stills the storm on the Sea of Galilee.  
        In the wake of the events of this week, in the pain and turmoil, chaos and storm stirred up by the massacre that took place in Charleston, Jesus’ words, “Peace. Be still!” are words we desperately need to hear. We need to know that Jesus can and does still the chaos in our broken, terrified hearts. We need to hear that the power of God is still at work, can and will defeat the powers of evil.  
        We need to hear that in the midst of the maelstrom of our world and our lives, Jesus is the power and presence of God; God with us, withstanding and controlling the crashing of the seas and the deafening roar of the wind and finally, stilling them.
        We need to know that when the storm strikes, God remains faithful, eternally walking with us, and beside us, surrounding us with love and even, with peace.  
        Jesus isn’t just asleep in that boat. Jesus, God with us, is inviting us to a sense of calm. Jesus invites us to believe that he is the source of all peace for us, and that God is powerfully present in the midst of whatever storm may strike. Even the most terrifying.
        The name of the historic church in Charleston where such horror and tragedy unfolded this week is Emanuel.
        Emanuel – which means - “God with us.” Despite the way the events of this week brought yet another reminder of the deep brokenness in our world, there were also signs – so many signs of God’s presence – of the ways that God is with us still – in the outpouring of love and support, for instance; in faith communities across the country praying in solidarity with our AME brothers and sisters; in flowers and notes left at the church; in the outrage poured out against all forms of racism and bigotry.
        We were also reminded of how much work is yet to be done in this kingdom of God.
        The shooting this week brought a searing reminder that racism and hatred are powerful conditions of sin and evil that are fed by an increasingly broken and hostile society.
        This is a society in which you and I are members and, like it or not, we must admit our own complicity in the ills of prejudice and intolerance. Forgive us, Father, for the things we have done and left undone.
        We acknowledge that we benefit from the systemic illness of a world in which the divisions between rich and poor, black and white, Christian and any other group, are widening at an astonishing rate in our polarized culture. If nothing else, we begin by admitting that we don’t stand up fiercely enough, loudly enough or often enough – to speak against the daily hurts and assaults various groups in our world endure.
        My brothers and sisters, we not only live in a society in which these things take place, and are beneficiaries of the injustices, but we also participate in activities that influence the systemic ills infecting our world.
        More than ever before, the media, entertainment outlets, and the very rhetoric that surrounds us daily and in which we often engage, profit by images and language promoting violence and racism.
        Think of the last five movies you’ve seen or the last five television programs you watched, the last five books you read. Think of the images, the way certain groups of people are portrayed. Reflect deeply on the language and rhetoric which occurs on the nightly news program you may watch.
        Consider the inflammatory language and images that cross your computer screen, whether you read them or not. What happened the last time you were in a group and someone used derogatory imagery, language or characterization of African Americans or Muslims for instance? Did any one stand up and say that it was wrong? Did you?
        We live in a culture that is increasingly divided racially, economically and politically, though we would like to ignore that fact, or deny it, or hide it, sweep it under the banner of “look how far we’ve come.”
        Eventually, when the tensions and the truth explode in images and actions we cannot ignore, can no longer hide, and we are overwhelmed, the boat of our complacency becomes swamped, and we cry out in horror and fear as the disciples did that day, “Lord, do you not care…that we are perishing?”     
        This week, another senseless shooting, and this time, in a Christian church, right here in America, with brothers and sisters in faith cut down following a bible study and time of prayer with the shooter himself. Incidentally, they were shot and killed - by another Christian. An ELCA Lutheran, (that’s our denomination) in fact. Let’s let that fact sink in.
        Another act of hatred. Another list of names of those who, whether they were 26 years old or 87 years old, were taken far too soon.  “Truly,” we think, “our boat is going down.”     
        And yet, in the midst of this storm, I wonder if you heard what I heard? God with us.  Did you hear the sound of reason, the voice of peace, from what we might think would be the most unlikely of places? Did you hear God’s message of love and unfathomable calm in the midst of the storm as, one after another the families of the victims spoke up?
        They each testified to the deep pain and bewilderment that has overtaken them since Wednesday night. God with us. They each spoke to the searing sense of loss and grief that is, at times overwhelming. But there was also something else that they spoke to: that though they truly walk through the valley of the shadow of death, they will not let evil win the day. God with us.
        They spoke of forgiveness – for the shooter. They spoke of the light of Christ that is abiding with them, the LORD who is walking beside them. Many of the family members – the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters and even grandchildren of the victims testified to their conviction that they would not meet evil with evil, hatred with hatred, but instead would turn to Jesus for their strength both to forgive and to find meaning and healing in their staggering losses.
        There is no going back to the way things were Wednesday morning. The lives of so, so many people are irrevocably altered.  Acknowledging that change, these disciples of Christ extended forgiveness, perhaps as an act of hope – connected to the grace of God they themselves have received at the foot of the cross.
        This kind of forgiveness points to the Word of Jesus from the cross itself. In the cross, this incredible act of evil and hatred is met with love. In the cross of Christ, ironically, we find our peace. God with us.
        Jesus and his disciples are in “the boat” – when Jesus says to his disciples, “Let’s go on, across, to the other side.”
        Crossing to the other side with Jesus is transformational. It means being aware of the conditions in the world around us and committing ourselves to the kingdom work of expanding God’s loving justice, as Jesus himself did.
        Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee that day.
        Filled with awe and wonder, the disciples asked, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” We know the answer – God with us.
        God will not be shaken by any storm. Jesus is God’s peace in the midst of the storm. The wind and seas recognized God with us and obeyed his command. Now, in the midst of our storm, Jesus issues the invitation to discipleship, calling those who follow him to go where he has called, confident that he is with them, confident that no evil will truly overtake us when he is at our side.  
        With Jesus Christ, God with us, let us commit ourselves to crossing the racial divide in our land, the widening economic divide between rich and poor, and all divisions in our socio-economic landscape. Crossing to the other side can raise up storms and risk danger, even unto death, especially because people will get stirred up, but let us not fear, but hope, because Jesus is God with us.
Amen.