A sermon delivered to St. Matthew's Episcopal Church
Sunday August 18th, 2019
Let us for a moment transport ourselves back to the United States of the 1950 & 60’s. It is the height of the civil rights movement. There is unrest in many parts of the country. The country is divided over issues of a person’s race. The Episcopal Church stands by its policy of separate but equal allowing for the segregation of worship spaces to continue. Eventually in late 1959, an organization “The Episcopal Society for Cultural and Racial Unity” was formed. Their purpose was to dismantle racial divides inside and outside the church. At the time, a young seminarian, Jonathon Myrick Daniels, heard the words of Isaiah and responded with, here I am send me. Jonathan, traveled to Selma Alabama and worked for racial justice in the United States. He listened to the words of Jesus and ultimately gave his life to the cause. Jonathon Myrick Daniels was shot and killed shielding Ruby Sales, a young black girl from a deputy sheriff.
You may be wondering why I bring this story up today?
How does the 1960’s civil rights movement relate to today’s gospel?
The reality is that we are once again living in a civil rights movement. This time the rights are not based upon whether someone is black or white, but rather what nationality you were born. Before you think I am taking sides on a political issue, let me emphasize, this is not an issue based upon political lines. This is an issue of our baptismal covenant. In our baptismal covenant, we promise that we will strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. This is the issue today, like the civil rights movement of the 1960’s that is dividing households. father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law, as Jesus says. I would add to the list Christian against Christian.
Throughout the Gospel of Luke, Jesus announces a new community -- he calls it the kingdom of God -- that is governed not by power but by equity, where all those in need are cared for, where forgiveness is the norm, where the poor are privileged, where wealth is shared rather than hoarded, and where the weak and lonely are honored. This is the kingdom of God we, as Christians, are called to create in this world. It is a kingdom where we strive for justice and peace while respecting the dignity of all humanity. Notice, there is nothing in that kingdom discussing immigration rules, but rather a discussion on the treatment of those immigrants once they are here. People are free to disagree on the issue of immigration, but as Christians, we cannot do anything but condemn treatment that doesn’t allow dignity for all of humanity. For Jonathon, his passion as a follower of Christ became the commitment to human equality. We too are all called to that commitment with Christ as our example. Following the one who went willingly to his suffering and death, we are given the ability to face, with grace, suffering and even death, knowing that all can be transformed by God. We believe that ever human being has been created uniquely and given a unique call. When we hold to and live by such beliefs, others can feel threatened and even reject us. But that is no grounds to turn away. Rather, it is a challenge of the situation to show the passionate transforming love of God. Quite simply, commitment to Jesus overrides all other commitments – even to that most basic form of relationship: the family. Even with the most happy, the most congenial of families, a person can hear a distinctive calling, a stand taken in conscience that goes against the others callings and stands generally accepted within that group. In a very real sense, Jesus’ words offer consolation for all in such a situation. Divisions will come – even in the best of families – and we must be prepared for them. Yet in spite of our differences, even divisions, we can still chose to love and to be loving. Division doesn’t have to mean hate. I once again refer to Jonathon.
After a protest with the police Jonathon wrote this:
"After a week-long, rain-soaked vigil, we still stood face to face with the Selma police. I stood, for a change, in the front rank, ankle-deep in an enormous puddle. To my immediate right were high school students, for the most part, and further to the right were a swarm of clergymen. My end of the line surged forward at one point, led by a militant Episcopal priest whose temper (as usual) was at combustion-point. Thus I found myself only inches from a young policeman. The air crackled with tension and open hostility. Emma Jean, a sophomore in the Negro high school, called my name from behind. I reached back for her hand to bring her up to the front rank, but she did not see. Again she asked me to come back. My determination had become infectiously savage, and I insisted that she come forward--I would not retreat! Again I reached for her hand and pulled her forward. The young policeman spoke: "You're dragging her through the puddle. You ought to be ashamed for treating a girl like that." Flushing--I had forgotten the puddle--I snarled something at him about whose-fault-it-really-was, that managed to be both defensive and self-righteous. We matched baleful glances and then both looked away. And then came a moment of shattering internal quiet, in which I felt shame, indeed, and a kind of reluctant love for the young policeman. I apologized to Emma Jean. And then it occurred to me to apologize to him and to thank him. Though he looked away in contempt--I was not altogether sure I blamed him--I had received a blessing I would not forget. Before long the kids were singing, "I love ---." One of my friends asked [the young policeman] for his name. His name was Charlie. When we sang for him, he blushed and then smiled in a truly sacramental mixture of embarrassment and pleasure and shyness. Soon the young policeman looked relaxed, we all lit cigarettes (in a couple of instances, from a common match, and small groups of kids and policemen clustered to joke or talk cautiously about the situation."
In the face of a divisive environment, the love of God was still present. We are once again at a divisive moment. We are faced with a situation where people no longer treat others with respect and dignity. We can stand by and watch or we can follow the words of Christ. We can become examples for a broken society by remembering our baptismal covenant: persevering in resisting evil, and when we fail, repent and return to the Lord, seeking and serving Christ in all people, loving your neighbor as yourself, striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of all human beings. We have agreed to these in our baptism, now is the time to put them into action. We must follow the words of Jesus, working to ensure all people are treated with respect and to stop the injustices in our country and depending upon the circumstances of our lives, that may be a very divisive call. One that promises no peace at all, except the peace of God.
Amen
