Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] November 18, 2018 “Outrage is Not a Way of Life” Psalm 100 Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. 2 Worship the Lord with gladness; come into God’s presence with singing. 3 Know that the Lord is God. It is God that made us, and we are God’s; we are the people and the sheep of God’s pasture. 4 Enter the gates with thanksgiving, and God’s courts with praise. Give thanks, bless God’s name. 5 For the Lord is good; God’s steadfast love endures forever, and faithfulness to all generations. Garrison Keillor tells the story about Larry, a resident of Lake Wobegon – you know, that place where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average. Larry had the all-time record for being saved at the Lutheran Church, a church that never gave altar calls and where an organ had never once played Just as I Am quietly in the background. Regardless of that, Larry Sorenson had come forward 12 times in 8 years, each time weeping buckets as he crumpled up at the communion rail. Each time it was a shock to the minister who had just delivered a dry sermon. The latest compared Jedidiah and Jehoshaphat. Or maybe it was Jerubabel. But at the end, Larry came forward crying. “Even the fundamentalists got tired of him,” said Keillor. God didn't mean for you to feel guilty all your life. There comes a time when you should dry your tears and join the building committee and grapple with the problems of the church furnace or the church roof. Larry was never grateful for a 2nd or 3rd or even 9th and 12th chance. He just kept on repenting and repenting and repenting.[1] For Larry, it was never enough. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t smart enough. Even in a town where all the men are good looking, he wasn’t even handsome enough. Never enough. In his new book, John Pavlovitz sounds like he’s worried that he isn’t thankful enough. He said, “Some days I think I’m gratitude-impaired. I have an appreciation-deficiency.”[2] Or, like Larry, maybe he’s not thankful enough. But, John said, “it’s just that I’m often so busy being outraged” by the news or the failing state of the planet that “I get preoccupied with being, well, outraged. In the course of an ordinary day, I frequently find myself so distracted” by disgust for what isn’t and what should be that “I forget to be grateful for what already is.” “It’s a common affliction for activists,” he said. Or just ordinary people who believe that things can, no, should, be better than this. That the world deserves, we deserve, better than this. In the face of so much discouraging news, it may feel as though if we aren’t out there every minute of every day trying to make a difference, the world may capitulate to the malevolent forces of cruelty, indecency, bigotry and pure unadulterated hate. It’s up to us or the forces of evil may win. But people who believe it all depends on them can be pretty unhappy people. And exhausting to be around because they can worry that others aren’t outraged enough. Of course, on the other hand, people who are happy all the time may annoy the heck out of us because how can they be so happy? They must not care enough. Don’t you know how bad things are? Kids still separated from their families. Not enough affordable housing. The town of Paradise, California, burned off the map because climate change is just a “hoax invented by the Chinese.”[3] How do you tell the families of the 500 or maybe even 1,000 people still missing to: Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. 2 Worship the Lord with gladness; come into God’s presence with singing. 4 Enter God’s courts with praise. Give thanks, give thanks, give thanks… for God is good. But it’s not just the major events of the world that concern us. Some days we just don’t feel that way. Not to mention, who cares about Washington while we are dealing with failing relationships. And Alzheimer’s is advancing. And when our recovery from addiction is faltering. And cancer is spreading. And now come the holidays when many of us may feel pressure that people won’t think we’re being cheerful enough. We may think the author of Psalm 100 is just another one of those annoyingly, perpetually happy people. But you couldn’t say that about the prophet Habakkuk. Habakkuk was no less grateful, but he also did not wear rose-colored glasses. The prophet described a bleak picture: “The fig trees have not blossomed; there are no grapes on the vines, the olive trees have failed, and the fields have yielded no food; the flocks of sheep have gone missing and there are no cattle in the stalls.”[4] That can only be described as an utter catastrophe. A very good reason to be depressed. Literally, “not enough.” And yet, after saying of all of that, he said, “I will rejoice in the Lord, I will exult in the God of my salvation.” Or as Eugene Peterson colorfully describes, “though my apples are full of worms, I’m turning cartwheels of joy for God.” Is he just deluded? Deceived? Has he been duped? No. He explained, I will rejoice through it all because God is my strength. And God is enough. Through it all. One of the challenges of our world is constantly being updated on the latest, and usually most outrageous, breaking story on social media, alerts on our phones, or on 24 hour cable news, which needs 24 hours a day of content, the worst the better. With all that instant and constantly streaming information, we can lose perspective. Everything loses perspective when it only lasts as long as the next news cycle. I don’t mean to demonize social media or cable news, it’s just that we have to practice a defense against its tendency toward sensationalized despair. Such a constant source of outrage could lead to an aggravated case of gratitude-deficiency or A.D.D.: Appreciation-Deficit Disorder. That doesn’t mean the treatment plan is choosing ignorance. The prescription isn’t to care a little less. That’s why I’m grateful for Habakkuk more than Psalm 100. He doesn’t sugar coat things. In the face of trees without figs and vines without grapes, when we’re losing or everything we had is gone, Habakkuk offers these insights.[5] I think they are really relevant for our times.
All those may be true, but they’re not all easy to practice. Yet, hopeful examples abound. In the category of injustice like a boomerang, remember Danica Roehm? I have mentioned her before. She is the transgender woman elected a year ago to the Virginia legislature, defeating the man who wrote the infamous “bathroom bill” meant to demonize transgender people.[6] I’m grateful for the boomerang of injustice rebounding on the unjust. God is good. Well, she is joined this year by Ruth Buffalo who just became the first Native American woman elected to the North Dakota Legislature. She unseated the main sponsor of the very voter ID law meant to disenfranchise Native Americans, who by the way, turned out in massive numbers. In Sioux County, where the Standing Rock Indian Reservation is, turnout was up 105 percent from the last midterm elections.[7] And she wasn’t elected from a reservation, but from the middle of Fargo. I’m grateful for the boomerang of injustice rebounding on the unjust. God is good. And then there is Zach Wahls in Iowa. He became famous in 2011 when he testified in front of the Iowa State Legislature against their proposed constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage. At the time, he was the teenaged son of two moms. He testified that having lesbian parents meant that some of his classmates were forbidden to socialize with him. He was teased and bullied because of his parent’s relationship but he turned that into quite an impressive resume including as the co-founder of Scouts for Equality which worked to overturn the ban on gay boy scouts and scout leaders. Well, he was just elected to that same Iowa legislature that targeted his family.[8] Not to mention, an actual lesbian mom was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives from Minnesota, defeating a man who compared gay people to rapists. Forget Blue Wave, there was a Rainbow Wave all across the country.[9] God is good. And works in mysterious ways. Ruth Buffalo did not go out and run against the man who tried to disenfranchise Native Americans. She didn’t even know that he was the one responsible until she won. God is good? I’m grateful that history is bigger than this present moment. And, that malevolence shall not forever win. But most especially, I am grateful that none of us have guarantees of happiness. Because more importantly, we have the promise that through our pain and struggle and grief, God keeps us strong. Therefore, Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. 2 Worship the Lord with gladness; come into God’s presence with singing. 4 Enter God’s courts with praise. Give thanks, give thanks, give thanks… for God is good. Outrage can be a great motivator to change the world, but it can’t be a way of life. Gratitude is a way of life that seeks the same outcome. John Pavlovitz claims that “all movements of justice, equality, and diversity are led by thankful people because they see something worth preserving or someone worth defending.” And the more we practice a gratitude way of life, the more alive we will feel. And hopeful, because hope is cultivated in the fields of gratitude. And in turn, the more alive we feel, the more we see each other and not just ourselves, “the more prepared we are to live outwardly, making us more available to people who are suffering, not less available.” God is good. Pavlovitz said, “Grateful people are the boldest activists and the most self-less advocates because they are the fiercest lovers of life.” That’s who I want to be. I want to change the world not because I’m outraged by it but because I’m grateful for it. I want to, but it may take some practice. How about you? Let’s try just one example: take a news story which makes you feel outraged. Find one thing in it for which to be grateful. At first, try to do it once a day. And then maybe once an hour. Until every outrageous thing you hear has within it a reason to be grateful. Until outrage is no longer a way of life but gratitude is. It’s not a means to avoid injustice or stop caring so much but instead a way to change the world that changes us too. [1] Garrison Keillor, Leaving Home [2] John Pavlovitz, Hope and Other Super Powers, Simon and Schuster, 2018. John will be speaking at Park Hill UCC on May 14, 2019 [3] https://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2016/jun/03/hillary-clinton/yes-donald-trump-did-call-climate-change-chinese-h/ [4] Habakkuk 3:17 [5] Richard Losch, All the People in the Bible [6] https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2017/nov/08/danica-roem-virginia-first-transgender-person-elected-state-legislature [7] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/13/us/politics/north-dakota-ruth-buffalo.html [8] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zach_Wahls [9]https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/lgbtq-midterm-elections_us_5be29707e4b0dbe871a49ea0
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Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] November 11, 2018 “We Need to Stop Making Heroes” Mark 12: 41-44 – Common English Bible Jesus sat across from the collection box for the temple treasury and observed how the crowd gave their money. Many rich people were throwing in lots of money. 42 One poor widow came forward and put in two small copper coins worth a penny.[a] 43 Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I assure you that this poor widow has put in more than everyone who’s been putting money in the treasury. 44 All of them are giving out of their spare change. But she from her hopeless poverty has given everything she had, even what she needed to live on.”. I’m glad I had a few days to process Tuesday’s election. But even more to the point, how to preach about it. After all, as a church, our concern isn’t about how one party did vs. another but how issues were impacted related to our vision of a world that is open, inclusive, just, and compassionate. I was reminded that we must still pray for the day when the right of people to vote and equity in representation, among other things, would unite us as Americans instead of divide us as parties. For now, that does not seem to be the case. Or is it? Do I perceive dawn on the horizon?
These weren’t simply the result of a blue wave but something broader, cross-partisan. They make me more hopeful today than I was just a few days ago. Of course, the bigger story is that Congress will be more diverse than ever.
If you don’t know her story, her son was Jordan Davis. You may remember, Jordan was murdered by white man in 2012 while sitting in a parked car with friends at a gas station in Florida. Michael Dunn fired ten times at a car of unarmed black teenagers during an argument over loud music. He then drove away, went to a hotel, and ordered pizza. He cited Florida’s Stand Your Ground law, claiming he felt threatened by the teenagers, who never left their car. It still took two trials to convict him of first degree murder. Well, out of that tragedy, Jordan’s mother became a gun control advocate and was just elected to Congress. In Georgia. In the former district of Newt Gingrich.[4]
That’s a lot of good news. There were plenty of disappointments too, including for the environment. But I wondered how I could tie all of this good news to today’s gospel story. The story about a widow and her two small coins wouldn’t appear to have much in common with election results. But listen to all the things I mentioned. We celebrate the restoration of voting rights. Increased access to health care and raising the minimum wage. Limiting interest charged to the most vulnerable. Removing slavery from our state constitution. We rightfully celebrate these things. But, then again, why must we celebrate something that should already be? But in the same way, in our gospel story, why do we celebrate that a poor widow gave away literally everything she had? That’s how this story is often told. We praise her “choice” to be generous. This is often used as an inspirational story for stewardship campaigns, with the message, go and do likewise. But it is a false interpretation to suggest that the purpose of the story is to praise the widow. Yes, she is certainly worthy of praise. But the story actually started three verses earlier, often left out of those inspirational stewardship sermons. You didn’t hear this part earlier. It starts with Jesus outside of the Temple teaching. He observed and pointed and said, “Watch out for the scribes. They like to walk around in long robes. They want to be greeted with honor in the markets. 39 They long for places of honor in the synagogues and at banquets. 40 They are the ones who cheat widows out of their houses, and to show off, they say long prayers. They will be judged most harshly.” We may think it’s about her generosity but it’s only after those verses that then he pointed at the widow who put everything she had into the temple treasury. It wasn’t praise so much as a statement. Or, an indictment. What kind of system would expect her to give away literally everything she had while others put in their spare change? She should have been protected. Which makes me think: What kind of system would celebrate the restoration of voting rights? Limiting interest to only 36%! Increased access to health care and a living wage? Why don’t people already have those things? Sitting in the Temple courtyard teaching, Jesus might have a thing or two to say about or to us. On Wednesday morning we awoke once again to news of a mass shooting. Over breakfast, we have a standard set of questions: How many victims? What city this time? There’s really no emotion left we haven’t expressed. And then we go to work. I don’t think the NRA even bothers to offer thoughts and prayers anymore. This time we mourn a hero. Ventura County Sheriff's Sergeant Ron Helus was killed while responding to the shooting. We thank him and all who put their lives on the line every day they show up for work. Thank goodness there are people willing to do that for our public safety. But we don’t need any more heroes. We need to stop making more heroes. Just as Jesus did at the Temple, he would sit with his disciples and observe the Sergeant’s flag-draped coffin, pointing out how he literally gave everything he had.
Jesus would shake his head and point at all of them and say, “They are the ones who cheat widows out of their homes, and to show off, they say long prayers.” Is it the sergeant’s heroic sacrifice that Jesus points out as much as the cowardice that creates the need for heroes? It makes for a good distraction. On Veterans Day we celebrate heroes. Especially men and women whose lives were lost serving their country. People like the mayor of North Ogden, Utah. Major Brent Taylor was killed a few weeks ago on his second tour of duty in Afghanistan by someone he was training, leaving behind a widow and seven children. His sacrifice was indeed heroic and worthy of praise. But we don’t need any more heroes like that. We need to stop making heroes. Like the poor widow and the sergeant, he literally gave away everything he had. He shouldn’t have had to. No disrespect for any of their sacrifice is meant, but the larger issue for Jesus in the story of the widow was the hypocrisy of the authorities desperate for places of honor in the market and at banquets. The ones responsible for cheating widows out of their homes or cheating soldiers out of their life. In turn they soothe their conscience with talk of heroes. If we want to praise heroes, we need to stop making them necessary, either from war, gun violence, or poverty. How can we redeem their sacrifice? Lucy McBath did exactly that when she won a seat in Congress on behalf of her son murdered by another racist claiming to be “standing their ground.” Instead of refusing entry to refugees we can elect them to Congress. Among the good news is an increase of veterans elected to Congress from both parties. Neither can claim to be on the exclusive side of veterans. That’s a really good thing. As many of you know, Veterans Day was originally observed as Armistice Day marking the end of the “war to end all wars” at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month – one hundred years ago today. In Latin, armistice means literally “arms stand still.”[6] Congress declared this date “should be commemorated with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations.” Since it ended up not being the war that ended all wars, it seems they gave up on Armistice Day and renamed it Veterans Day in 1954. Instead of pursuing peace anymore, we turned it into a day for heroes. But the words of the original call to Armistice Day still resonate: a day of thanksgiving for the service of veterans as well as caregivers who walk with them after bullets and bombs have stopped flying but the ravages of war continue through injuries of body, mind, and spirit. Secondly, a day of prayer by people of all faiths for the time when arms stand still. But not just prayer. Or thoughts and prayers. The third thing Congress declared is a day of exercises to perpetuate peace, explained in 1918, through “good will and mutual understanding between nations.” Perhaps we could expand on that and seek even good will and mutual understanding among the people of just one nation. Our nation. We proved on Tuesday that bridges can be built – across lines of difference, suspicion, and hostility. And in exchange, some voting rights were restored and protected, access to health care was increased, and some people achieved closer to a living wage. Sure, it should already be that way. But instead of seeing what’s not there, let’s keep working toward what is possible when friends and opponents work together for a world that is at least a little more open, inclusive, just, and compassionate. A world that doesn’t need more heroes. Or widows. [1] https://ballotpedia.org/Florida_Amendment_4,_Voting_Rights_Restoration_for_Felons_Initiative_(2018) [2] https://www.vox.com/a/midterms-2018/ballot-initiatives [3] https://www.vox.com/policy-and-politics/2018/11/7/18072410/medicaid-2018-midterms-kansas-nebraska [4] https://www.theroot.com/the-legacy-of-jordan-davis-lives-on-in-his-mother-lucy-1830306563 [5] https://www.vcstar.com/story/news/crime/guns/2018/11/08/president-donald-trump-thousand-oaks-california-shooting-borderline-bar-twitter-reactions/1928853002/ [6] SALT Project Collective reflection on Armistice Day Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] November 4, 2018 “What is Love?” Ruth 1: 1-14 – The Message Once upon a time—it was back in the days when judges led Israel— there was a famine in the land. A man from Bethlehem in Judah left home to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The man’s name was Elimelech; his wife’s name was Naomi; his sons were named Mahlon and Kilion—all Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They all went to the country of Moab and settled there. 3-5 Elimelech died and Naomi was left, she and her two sons. The sons took Moabite wives; the name of the first was Orpah, the second Ruth. They lived there in Moab for the next ten years. But then the two brothers, Mahlon and Kilion, died. Now the woman was left without either her young men or her husband. 6-7 One day she got herself together, she and her two daughters-in-law, to leave the country of Moab and set out for home; she had heard that God had been pleased to visit his people and give them food. And so she started out from the place she had been living, she and her two daughters-in-law with her, on the road back to the land of Judah. 8-9 After a short while on the road, Naomi told her two daughters-in-law, “Go back. Go home and live with your mothers. And may God treat you as graciously as you treated your deceased husbands and me. May God give each of you a new home and a new husband!” She kissed them and they cried openly. 10 They said, “No, we’re going on with you to your people.” 11-13 But Naomi was firm: “Go back, my dear daughters. Why would you come with me? Do you suppose I still have sons in my womb who can become your future husbands? Go back, dear daughters—on your way, please! I’m too old to get a husband. Why, even if I said, ‘There’s still hope!’ and this very night got a man and had sons, can you imagine being satisfied to wait until they were grown? Would you wait that long to get married again? No, dear daughters; this is a bitter pill for me to swallow—more bitter for me than for you. God has dealt me a hard blow.” 14 Again they cried openly. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law good-bye; but Ruth embraced her and held on. 15 Naomi said, “Look, your sister-in-law is going back home to live with her own people and gods; go with her.” 16-17 But Ruth said, “Don’t force me to leave you; don’t make me go home. Where you go, I go; and where you live, I’ll live. Your people are my people, your God is my god; where you die, I’ll die, and that’s where I’ll be buried, so help me God—not even death itself is going to come between us!” 18-19 When Naomi saw that Ruth had her heart set on going with her, she gave in. And so the two of them traveled on together to Bethlehem. I have moved a fair number of times in my life; perhaps some of you have too. I lived in four different places in college; four different places during seminary in Minneapolis. Then to Washington, DC, for a year and on to Cleveland where I lived in five different homes. Then to Denver. After our first year in an apartment in Stapleton, I finally lived in the first place I ever paid a mortgage instead of rent. You should have seen my mother’s address book. Every move was for a new opportunity. Something different, often something better. I don’t know what it’s like to move because the landlord kicked me out or because I couldn’t pay rent. I’ll never forget the story Guy Harris told about when he joined the Army. He had to provide a list of addresses for every place he had ever lived. By age 18, he had lived in 29 different homes, often because he was awakened in the middle of the night by his parents. They couldn’t pay the rent. Again. I don’t know what it’s like to move because war has broken out or famine has descended on the land. I don’t know, can’t imagine, what desperation it would take to get into a crowded boat to cross the sea. Or join a caravan to walk 1,000 miles to a place of which all I know is that maybe it’ll be safer. I can empathize, but I cannot “know.” Maybe some of you do. And certainly, some of our parents or grandparents or other family ancestors know. That’s why some of us are here – they left their homelands to escape war and poverty, seeking opportunity, arriving on ships that sailed past the Statue of Liberty, back when the United States welcomed immigrants and proclaimed: ”Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.” All of that is to say, I don’t know what it would have taken for Elimelech and Naomi, but it couldn’t have been easy to conclude they had to move from their home in Bethlehem of Judah to Moab. Moab, of all places. More on that later. Irony drives the story of Ruth. Names provide clues. For example, Bethlehem, which in Hebrew means House of Bread, had no bread. Elimelech, which means My God is King, believed God would provide. But all God provided was famine. No bread. Naomi means sweet and pleasant, but later in the story she asked to be called Mara, which means bitter. And understandably. Sweet Naomi’s husband died. However, she still had two sons. They grew up and married local girls – Moabite girls. But then her oldest son died before he had children. And then her other son died, also before he had any children. Now, Naomi was a childless widow living in a foreign land with two other childless widows as daughters-in-law. Bitter would have been a good name for Naomi. She decided to move back to Bethlehem. Ruth and Orpah offered to go with her. As an aside, I’m not sure why Ruth and Orpah married Naomi’s sons in the first place. Their names should have tipped them off. Ruth’s husband’s name was “Sickly.” Orpah’s husband’s name was “Caput.” “Caput,” it’s over. Just like their luck. It was caput. But there was one piece of good luck for Naomi. One of her daughters-in-law was named Ruth, whose name means Friend. But key to understanding this story, easily overlooked among lots of obscure “who cares?” biblical names, was the name Moab. The people of Moab were hated with as deep a passion as you can imagine. Think of hearing the name Maxine Waters or Hillary Clinton at a Trump rally. Or Trump’s name at a Women’s March. Just saying the name Moab would have caused a similar reaction. The rift started when the Moabites refused, allegedly refused, to provide hospitality to the escaping Hebrew slaves. In response, the Book of Deuteronomy states that no Moabite shall be permitted to enter the Lord’s assembly – for 10 generations! Not clear enough? The Book of Deuteronomy states, “You shall never promote the welfare or prosperity of Moabites as long as you live.” Still not clear enough? Their opinion of these people was so low that when Lot’s son was conceived as a result of incest, they named him Moab. Got it? I’m not sure that the Moabites called themselves Moabites, but that’s what they were called in Israel and Judah. And upon hearing this story, every listener would have felt, would have known to feel, the revulsion of incest in their stomach. They moved to Moab!?! Ruth was from Moab!?! Lock her up. So, that’s how desperate Elimelech and Naomi would have been to move there. But, on the flip side, imagine how much hatred Ruth could have anticipated by moving to Bethlehem with Naomi. Imagine Maxine Waters moving to the house next door to David Duke. Neither might like it much. But it would probably also be pretty dangerous for Maxine. Even so, Ruth and Orpah both offered to go back with Naomi. Naomi convinced Orpah to go back to her family, but Ruth wouldn’t budge. After all, her name was Friend. Ruth told Naomi words of such absolute life-long fidelity that they are often repeated at wedding ceremonies, without knowing the context – daughter-in-law to mother-in-law. “Wherever you go, I will go; your people will be my people; your God will be my God; where you are buried, I will be buried.” Ruth was more concerned for the well-being of her friend than her own. That’s love. It doesn’t feel like there is much love going around these days. Friendships ended over irreconcilable views. Family relationships strained by political differences. With hate on the rise, true and genuine love seems rare. Or perhaps hate is simply being exposed. But does it even matter which? That hate has motivated people to kill. Eleven Jews worshiping at the Tree of Life. Two African Americans shot outside a Kroger because the black church next door was locked. Fourteen, hopefully only 14, pipe bombs sent to former presidents and high-profile critics. And that’s all just in two weeks. And yet, instead of toning down the rhetoric, it’s toned up because fear-mongering is a better winning strategy. The temptation is to ratchet up the rhetoric on all sides. To match hate with hate. Or to say nothing. More and more lately, what else can be said? And yet whenever we ask, what can we do, we can’t forget the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Hate does not drive out hate. Only love can do that.” And yet, what is love? Michael Curry is the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, made famous as the preacher at the royal wedding of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry when he gave an electrifying sermon on the power of love. He was on the Today Show this week promoting a new book. As he talked, Savannah and Hoda sat mesmerized. And I was mesmerized too. His words were so simple but so filling, as though we are starving for love. I had been working on this sermon about Ruth and his words seemed like they were tailor made for today: “Love is about unselfish, self-less, living that seeks the good, the welfare and well-being of others, even above my own self-interest.” It was like he was describing Ruth for me, adding, “Selfless living is the only thing that has ever changed anything for the good.” And then, as though he was speaking of All Saints Day, he told Savannah and Hoda, “Think about yourself. Who are the people who’ve made a difference in your life? They made a difference not because they were doing it for themselves, but because they were doing it for you. It was for you, not for themselves.” Then he said, “Think of any social change in history. It has been people who have been thinking about more than self, who have been thinking of others. The truth is, no good created and done by human beings has ever been done from the motivation of selfishness.” Let that sink in. Good “has always been self-less and self-giving. That’s what love really is.” I felt like I was sitting in church. And then he described the opposite of love. It isn’t hate, he said. I thought he would give the standard answer that instead of hate, the opposite of love is fear. But, no, Bishop Curry said, “The opposite of love is self-centeredness. Hate is a derivative of that. If love is self-giving, the opposite is self-centeredness.” Is that why our country feels so off track right now? We’re being led by a narcissist in chief who ratchets up any fear he can to make people feel deathly afraid they will lose what is “rightfully” theirs, but really, the whole time, all he’s really trying to do is line his own pocket and feed his own desperate ego. Bishop Curry didn’t say all that. He simply pointed out that “self-centeredness doesn’t work. If we all lived a self-centered existence, we wouldn’t have a society. Democracy depends on that. Human survival depends on that. Life on this planet depends on our capacity to be unselfish, to be self-less, and giving.” Savannah, Hoda, and I all sat speechless, taking it in, reflecting on what it means to live in an era that feels devoid of love. Especially for people like Elimelech and Naomi. Except that it isn’t. We are, in fact, living in an era overflowing with love. Every act of resistance is an act of love because it is for someone else. By people who care what happens to other people. When hate makes the news, love is what happens next. The Islamic Center of Pittsburgh pledged to help provide funerals for the 11 victims of the synagogue shooter. Their initial goal of $25,000 was reached almost immediately. On Friday it stood at $230,000 from over 5,600 individual donations. An Iranian student at Arizona State launched a similar campaign that is now over $1.1 million from 17,000 individual donations. That’s love. One might even say, given the source, of all people a Moabite, of all people an Iranian… given the source, it’s the kind of ironic love we celebrate in the Book of Ruth. Voting or helping people vote or ensuring one’s right to vote is an act of love when its purpose is to serve the Common Good instead of selfish purposes. Maybe all the voter suppression going on in Georgia and North Dakota and Dodge City, Kansas, isn’t about hate. It’s just people being selfish. But that’s no way to build community or ensure human survival or life at all on this planet. And so, on this All Saints Day, I invite our reflection upon people who have gone before us, whose lives were marked by their love for humankind. Who in your life embodied, or embodies, the truth that “Love is about unselfish, self-less, living that seeks the good, the welfare and well-being of others, even above my own self-interest”? They are our role models, demonstrating the meaning of love. The opposite of which isn’t hate or even fear. The opposite of love is “me, me, me.” The opposite of love is nationalism. Think of all the people who made a difference in your life by their self-giving. People who were or are friends like Ruth. They can guide us through these days. I also invite us to remember today people like Naomi and Elimelech whose very survival meant having to cross the border into places like Moab. Moab, of all places. And, as well, I invite us to remember the people of Bethlehem who welcomed Ruth and draw inspiration from them. The people of Bethlehem who ignored a direct order from Deuteronomy never to promote the welfare of a Moabite. They welcomed this Moabite woman in and, of all the great ironies of her story full of irony: how she became the great-grandmother of Israel’s greatest king. The greatest irony, of course, is that under that great King David, Israel was never more prosperous. Because they welcomed in their enemy whose name was friend. What is love? Later in the Service, part of the All Saints Day liturgy: We Remember Members of the Tree of Life Synagogue. Worst act of anti-Semitism in US history. At the time, it marked the 294th mass shooting in 2018, a number still climbing David Rosenthal, 54, and Cecil Rosenthal, 59 Richard Gottfried, 65 Jerry Rabinowitz, 66 Irving Younger, 69 Daniel Stein, 71 Joyce Fienberg, 75 Melvin Wax, 88 Bernice Simon, 84; Sylvan Simon, 86 Rose Mallinger, 97 We remember them. Kentucky Kroger Maurice Stallard Vickie Jones, dead because another massacre like Mother Emmanuel A.M.E. Church failed. We remember them. According to Everytown for Gun Safety, by October 4, a total of 65 shootings had occurred on school campuses across the US. By June, there had been 41 deaths, including 17 from Parkland, Florida. We remember them. Data from Gun Violence Archive shows that so far this year, more than 12,000 people have died from gun-related violence, including suicides, and 23,506 others, and counting, were injured. We remember them. 10,000 have died in Yemen, a low number because it is too dangerous to count the dead. We remember them. And then, yesterday we learned of two dead at a yoga studio in Tallahassee, Florida. We remember Dr. Nancy Van Vessem, 61, and Maura Binkley, 21. |
AuthorI love being a Archives
April 2024
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