Audio solamente. Con traducción para Frank Alton.
MP3 File
February 22, 2008
February 10, 2008
January 23, 2008 - Quo vadis? - Hayward Fong
John 15:12-14; 18-27
Last Wednesday, I spoke on the theme, “Extraordinary Results from Ordinary People.” In so doing, I touched briefly on Martin Luther King, Jr., but devoted most of my message on two women in our times, namely Marian Anderson and Eleanor Roosevelt. Today, I want to go back and focus my thoughts on Martin Luther King, Jr.
The events of this 20th Century prophet’s life have shown me that miracles can take place today like those of previous generations. Like those recorded in the Bible, God gave Dr. King something specific and tangible to carry out in his ordinary life…in his instance, events that gave him a closeness to God, a companionship you and I can also attain. He was not Superman. He was an ordinary person like you and me.
January 15th is the birthday of this civil rights leader, Martin Luther King, Jr. The third Monday in January has been set aside as a national holiday in his memory which fell on this past Monday. Last Sunday, our worship service was centered on his life and its impact on our nation’s history. Parades and interfaith activities were held in his honor throughout our nation and not merely on the three day weekend.
This national holiday did not come by easily. It took fifteen years following his assassination in 1968 for Congress to enact this proclamation. President Reagan signed it into law in 1983. Even then, many states refused to honor the holiday. Arizona approved the holiday in 1992 only after a tourist boycott, which included the relocation of the Super Bowl football game to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. It wasn’t until 1999 that New Hampshire changed the name Civil Rights Day to Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
Most of us are familiar with the words he spoke on August 28, 1963, to the multitude gathered in our nation’s capital, “I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” Dr. King was a man of vision! But he was also human, like you and me, with moments of weakness. There were times when inwardly he doubted his ability to carry out his dream, when it seemed simpler and safer, to just quit. At other times he encountered worldly temptations, which took all the strength he could muster to resist. It is alleged that he yielded to some temptations of the flesh. Nevertheless, through constant prayer, he rose above his frailties to march for justice under God’s banner, and in so doing he changed the course of American history. He said, “To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing.”
His life, as have the lives of other men and women of faith, has been an inspiration to me, knowing that a person can sometimes falter and still be used powerfully by the Lord for good. His speeches have inspired our nation to move forward in its civil rights movement.
Instead of worrying, as I have oftentimes, about whether or not I’m worthy to do God’s work, I try to acknowledge my faults, turn them over to Him and then just do the best I can. I may not accomplish history changing deeds, as did Dr. King, but I can extend God’s love to those around me, even if I reach only down Catalina Street where I live.
Inside the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center in Atlanta are many exhibits. One is a travel bag Dr. King used on his fatal trip to Memphis almost forty years ago. Inside the bag are two books. The one on top is entitled “Strength to Love.” I feel sure that he believed that loving one’s enemies, not violence, held the power to transform society. Was he right? Could simply acting in love in the face of hostility really make a difference?
His widow, Coretta Scott King tells this story. I quote her words.
“One January night in 1956 while Martin was away, I sat home with our baby. Suddenly there was a thunderous blast. A bomb had been tossed onto the front porch. The baby and I were unharmed, but an angry crowd of our friends, wanting revenge, had gathered around the house when Martin got home.
“It was the first test of his theory. Martin hushed the crowd and said, ‘I want you to go home and put down your weapons. We must meet violence with nonviolence. We must meet hate with love.’”
Mrs. King continued her story.
“The anger melted and the crowd faded into the night. You see, the power of love is a mighty force.”
Though not as familiar as the “I have a dream” words, I want to share some excerpts from his book, “Strength to Love.”
These words from this book serve to remind us the true meaning of life:
Four years later, from an address in Memphis, Tennessee the night before his assassination, April 3, 1968, he spoke these words, “I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go to the mountain. And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promise land.”
The great musician, Pablo Casals once said, “The capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest meaning and significance.”
St. Augustine tells us, “Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by accidents of time, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you.”
There is a mural on the wall at the corner of Pico and Normandie, about a mile south of us, which catches my eye every time I visit St. Sophia’s Cathedral. It depicts two angels flying with this caption, “We are each of us angels with one wing. We can only fly embracing each other.”
These words from Edmund Burke (1729-1797), “No one could make a greater mistake than he who does nothing because he could do only a little.” And from Thomas Guthrie, “Do it now. It is not safe to leave a generous feeling to the cooling influences of the world.”
Where do we go from here? That is the question for us to answer, “Quo Vadis?” Where are you going? It is ours to look out the window of Dr. King’s dream and become actors in carrying it out. Yes, ordinary people, like you and me, can produce extraordinary results when we march together for justice under the banner of God.
For those of us in our golden years, these words by the great American suffragist, Susan B. Anthony, should move us out of our easy chair, “The older I get, the greater power I seem to have to help the world; I am like a snowball – the further I am rolled the more I gain.”
Might we say “Amen!”
Last Wednesday, I spoke on the theme, “Extraordinary Results from Ordinary People.” In so doing, I touched briefly on Martin Luther King, Jr., but devoted most of my message on two women in our times, namely Marian Anderson and Eleanor Roosevelt. Today, I want to go back and focus my thoughts on Martin Luther King, Jr.
The events of this 20th Century prophet’s life have shown me that miracles can take place today like those of previous generations. Like those recorded in the Bible, God gave Dr. King something specific and tangible to carry out in his ordinary life…in his instance, events that gave him a closeness to God, a companionship you and I can also attain. He was not Superman. He was an ordinary person like you and me.
January 15th is the birthday of this civil rights leader, Martin Luther King, Jr. The third Monday in January has been set aside as a national holiday in his memory which fell on this past Monday. Last Sunday, our worship service was centered on his life and its impact on our nation’s history. Parades and interfaith activities were held in his honor throughout our nation and not merely on the three day weekend.
This national holiday did not come by easily. It took fifteen years following his assassination in 1968 for Congress to enact this proclamation. President Reagan signed it into law in 1983. Even then, many states refused to honor the holiday. Arizona approved the holiday in 1992 only after a tourist boycott, which included the relocation of the Super Bowl football game to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. It wasn’t until 1999 that New Hampshire changed the name Civil Rights Day to Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
Most of us are familiar with the words he spoke on August 28, 1963, to the multitude gathered in our nation’s capital, “I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” Dr. King was a man of vision! But he was also human, like you and me, with moments of weakness. There were times when inwardly he doubted his ability to carry out his dream, when it seemed simpler and safer, to just quit. At other times he encountered worldly temptations, which took all the strength he could muster to resist. It is alleged that he yielded to some temptations of the flesh. Nevertheless, through constant prayer, he rose above his frailties to march for justice under God’s banner, and in so doing he changed the course of American history. He said, “To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing.”
His life, as have the lives of other men and women of faith, has been an inspiration to me, knowing that a person can sometimes falter and still be used powerfully by the Lord for good. His speeches have inspired our nation to move forward in its civil rights movement.
Instead of worrying, as I have oftentimes, about whether or not I’m worthy to do God’s work, I try to acknowledge my faults, turn them over to Him and then just do the best I can. I may not accomplish history changing deeds, as did Dr. King, but I can extend God’s love to those around me, even if I reach only down Catalina Street where I live.
Inside the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center in Atlanta are many exhibits. One is a travel bag Dr. King used on his fatal trip to Memphis almost forty years ago. Inside the bag are two books. The one on top is entitled “Strength to Love.” I feel sure that he believed that loving one’s enemies, not violence, held the power to transform society. Was he right? Could simply acting in love in the face of hostility really make a difference?
His widow, Coretta Scott King tells this story. I quote her words.
“One January night in 1956 while Martin was away, I sat home with our baby. Suddenly there was a thunderous blast. A bomb had been tossed onto the front porch. The baby and I were unharmed, but an angry crowd of our friends, wanting revenge, had gathered around the house when Martin got home.
“It was the first test of his theory. Martin hushed the crowd and said, ‘I want you to go home and put down your weapons. We must meet violence with nonviolence. We must meet hate with love.’”
Mrs. King continued her story.
“The anger melted and the crowd faded into the night. You see, the power of love is a mighty force.”
Though not as familiar as the “I have a dream” words, I want to share some excerpts from his book, “Strength to Love.”
“We are not makers of history. We are made by history.”The title of the other book in Dr. King’s bag is “Where Do We Go From Here?” Do we have the strength to love with all the hostility in our world, yes, hostility in the name of God, Shiite- Sunni insurgencies throughout the Middle East, women and girls killed in the name of family honor, Latinos against Negroes throughout our City of the Angels, Crips and Bloods gang banging each other, the conflicts between neighbors, even the angry situations in our own homes?
“Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”
“Success, recognition, and conformity are the bywords of the modern world where everyone seems to crave the anesthetizing security of being identified with the majority.”
“Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man’s sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true.”
“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”
These words from this book serve to remind us the true meaning of life:
“An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.”On learning of threats on his life, June 5, 1964, Dr. King made this statement of faith, “If physical death is the price I must pay to free my white brothers and sisters from a permanent death of the spirit, then nothing can be more redemptive.”
“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”
“Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”
“The means by which we live have outdistanced the ends for which we live. The scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.”
Four years later, from an address in Memphis, Tennessee the night before his assassination, April 3, 1968, he spoke these words, “I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go to the mountain. And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promise land.”
The great musician, Pablo Casals once said, “The capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest meaning and significance.”
St. Augustine tells us, “Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by accidents of time, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you.”
There is a mural on the wall at the corner of Pico and Normandie, about a mile south of us, which catches my eye every time I visit St. Sophia’s Cathedral. It depicts two angels flying with this caption, “We are each of us angels with one wing. We can only fly embracing each other.”
These words from Edmund Burke (1729-1797), “No one could make a greater mistake than he who does nothing because he could do only a little.” And from Thomas Guthrie, “Do it now. It is not safe to leave a generous feeling to the cooling influences of the world.”
Where do we go from here? That is the question for us to answer, “Quo Vadis?” Where are you going? It is ours to look out the window of Dr. King’s dream and become actors in carrying it out. Yes, ordinary people, like you and me, can produce extraordinary results when we march together for justice under the banner of God.
For those of us in our golden years, these words by the great American suffragist, Susan B. Anthony, should move us out of our easy chair, “The older I get, the greater power I seem to have to help the world; I am like a snowball – the further I am rolled the more I gain.”
Might we say “Amen!”
January 20, 2008 - Affirming our call in the face of doubt - Frank Alton
Isaiah 49:1-7; I Corinthians 1:4-9; John 1:35-42
Each year on the third Sunday of January we combine two important experiences of call. We celebrate the life and work of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr, one of the greatest, most daring and eloquent articulators of prophetic Christianity to arise in history. And we ordain & install deacons and elders to ministry at Immanuel. To connect ordination to the work of Rev. King is to recall that he acted as a minister of the Gospel, and to appropriately raise the stakes of what it means for us to be ordained.
Ordination is always a mixed bag. On the one hand it is an opportunity to focus on the call of regular folks to ministry. On the other hand, it can make it look like ordination is the privilege of a few – deacons, elders, and ministers of word and sacrament. If we look more closely it gets even more problematic. Ordination has always included a dimension of exclusivity. For most of the past 2000 years it was only available to men. After a long struggle it opened up to women. Today a struggle is going on to open it up to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Connecting ordination to Dr. King’s legacy may help us make ordination more inclusive as we remember his statement that “a right delayed is a right denied.” Maybe it’s good that ordination is not considered a sacrament in the Presbyterian Church as in other churches. Ordination as currently practiced is not something all Christians can or do experience. Baptism is. Baptism is our true ordination to ministry. Moses said a prayer in the Book of Numbers that was fulfilled on the day of Pentecost: “would that all God’s people were prophets.” Since Pentecost all of us are called to be prophets.
The church is still catching up with Pentecost truth. Beyond ways the church tries to exclude certain people from full participation in prophetic ministry, the call itself evokes insecurity. Call is usually accompanied by doubt & inadequacy. Isaiah speaks of being called from his mother’s womb. But in living out that call he said, “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” The Apostle Paul addresses self doubt in the Christian community at Corinth, where competition for the more spectacular gifts left people feeling insecure and alienated. Dr. King himself was a reluctant leader, ridden with self-doubt in the face of attacks from his own supporters and death threats from outside.
Prophets are those who act in the midst of their doubts. How does the Spirit of the prophets help people to act more authentically in spite of their doubts? Each of the 3 texts we read this morning speaks to one way the Spirit works in us to act courageously in the face of doubts.
The Isaiah text shows that when we doubt our ability to pull off our call, the Spirit expands our vision rather than take away responsibility. When Isaiah expressed doubt about his call he recalled the deep source of that call and heard God say, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”(Is. 49:6). “You think you’re inadequate to bring my message to Israel? Then let me make your task bigger: bring it to the whole world.” Why, when he already felt overwhelmed by the task, would the Spirit expand his vision rather than rein it in? When we fail to expand our vision we use fear to protect a reduced vision that no longer serves us. Do we need to shift from putting forth our best effort to depending on a higher force? Or to focus on the big picture even if it’s too big?
In the final years of his young life, Dr. King, as the prophet Isaiah before him, knew he had to raise the stakes of his call. He came to know, against the moderating voices of some of his advisors, that he couldn’t limit his efforts to the civil rights movement. He warned that unless we engage in a great revolution of values & overcome racism, materialism and militarism, we would be “dragged down the long, dark & shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality and strength without sight.”
Has the dark time has come in our day? We face a constitutional crisis brought on by the acts of a President who has placed himself above the law and is conducting an illegal war, subverting the Constitution & willfully ignoring a planetary crisis that threatens the future of life on earth. As we are manipulated by fear and distrust, despair overcomes decency. We are losing faith in our capacity to create the world anew.
Can we hear the Spirit’s call to enlarge our vision, to include rather than exclude, to embrace rather than reject? What does this look like in practice? Last year the Nobel Peace prize went to Mohammed Yunis, who developed the Gramein Bank lending that has made over a billion dollars available in developing countries over its life. The bank makes loans to non-governmental organizations that establish community lending co-ops which work with the poor as partners, helping them to understand the ins and outs of business development and debt repayment. In the third world this system has less than 2% default.
The prophetic texts call us to do something that is not rational. Why would I trust someone who had nothing to lose? It does not make sense intellectually. Emotionally, I don’t have anything in common with these people. But if I hear a spiritual call to social justice, everything changes; my actions are different. They may seem crazy if the framework is strictly rational or emotional; but in a spiritual framework, partnership with the poor makes perfect sense. In fact, the US government, World Bank & IMF are preparing to put part of their funding into exactly this framework.
As unlikely as it sounds on paper, the message Isaiah heard to expand the vision when every thing seemed to be falling apart actually makes sense. And so does the message given by Paul to the Church at Corinth: you already have every thing you need to get the job done. “You are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of Jesus Christ.” In this second case the Spirit affirms the adequacy of peoples’ gifts (I Cor 1:7)
Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth begins with three references to call: “Paul, called to be an apostle;” “those called to be saints;” and “all those who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Then Paul affirms that there are enough gifts to go around. From the rest of the letter we know that there was a spirit of competitiveness around gifts at Corinth. People thought certain gifts were more valuable than others.
Several years ago Jackie Herst taught us an exercise she used as a professor at the UCLA School of Management. We were training church officers like the ones we ordain and install today. She divided us all up into north, south, east and west based on certain ways we tend to behave. Those in the North are those who want to get it done now. They tend to be impatient with process and want to get to action. Those in the South want to make sure to take care of people while pursuing mission. It’s never okay for them that individuals might be ignored or overworked on the way to accomplishing something, no matter how important. The folks in the East who cast the vision. They look beyond roadblocks & practical details of actually getting things done in favor of clarifying where we need to go. Finally, people who identify with the West insist on breaking down the vision into baby steps, to focus on the practical details that make sure the vision gets accomplished.
The exercise serves many purposes for teams that work together. It helps us realize that our adequacy doesn’t rest in individual capacities alone, but by putting all our gifts together as a community. Each person must offer their gift - visions will never be accomplished if someone doesn’t attend to the details. But we must not focus on our feelings of inadequacy because we can’t get the whole job done by ourselves, or judge others as inadequate because they can’t do what we can do. Some have great ideas but do not know how to get them accomplished. Others can’t lift their heads from the details long enough to know where we’re going. Some are so impatient that they start out strong but watch as their projects keep fizzling over time.
Doubt & judgments characterize communities marked by a spirit of competitiveness. When gifts for service are seen as competitive each person wonders whether her or his gifts are adequate. Because each of us is so insecure, we are blind to the insecurity of others. So we criticize them, thinking their heads are too big, that they think they are too great, when the truth is that all the time they are questioning them selves. Our criticisms evoke either defensiveness or despair in them, instead of improvement in their performance. How much better to evoke the spirit of cooperation as Paul did with the Corinthians: “I give thanks for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift.”
Finally, we come to this morning’s Gospel text. The final strategy the Spirit uses to give us the courage to act in the midst of our doubts is to give us a new name: “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas (which is translated Peter). (John 1:42) We said last week that we receive a new name at baptism. The true meaning of baptism is that we overcome our doubts by truly hearing God’s voice call us by a new & beloved name. We also said that most of us need mediators in order to believe that voice. We need people who speak God’s word to us. I don’t mean preachers who expound the Bible. I mean people who call us by our new name – the name by which God calls us: beloved.
The new name we receive isn’t only individual; it’s communal. If individually we’re called beloved, communally we’re called family. We’re not the “human race” because that leads us to compete. We are the “human family” because Jesus’ calls us to forgive, to love and pray for our enemies & adversaries. A few years ago President Bush identified three countries as an axis of evil. Decades earlier, Martin King identified three enemies of the human family: bigotry, poverty and militarism. To follow Jesus and Dr. King will lead us to critique any international foreign policy that would seek to destroy or even dominate our enemies. Their followers will always seek political and diplomatic solutions over warfare.
On March 15, Dr. King delivered the eulogy for a white Unitarian minister named James Reeb. Reeb had worked passionately and at great personal risk for civil rights in the south. He was murdered by white segregationists during a march in Selma, Alabama. But in his Eulogy, Dr. King spread the responsibility much more broadly. “James Reeb was murdered by the indifference of every minister of the gospel who has remained silent behind the safe security of stained glass windows. He was murdered by the irrelevancy of a church that will stand amid social evil and serve as a taillight rather than a headlight, an echo rather than a voice. He was murdered by the irresponsibility of every politician who has moved down the path of demagoguery, who has fed his constituents the stale bread of hatred and the spoiled meat of racism. He was murdered by the brutality of every sheriff and law enforcement agent who practices lawlessness in the name of law. He was murdered by the timidity of a federal government that can spend millions of dollars a day to keep troops in South Vietnam, yet cannot protect the lives of its own citizens seeking constitutional rights. Yes, he was even murdered by cowardice of every Negro who tacitly accepts the evil system of segregation & stands on the sidelines in the midst of a mighty struggle for justice….
I can say to you this afternoon that in spite of tensions & uncertainties of this period, something profoundly meaningful is taking place. Systems of exploitation and oppression are passing away. Out of the wombs of a frail world, new systems of justice and equality are being born. Doors of opportunity are gradually being opened. Those at the bottom of society, shirtless & barefoot people of the land, are developing a new sense of somebodyness, carving a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of despair. The kingdom of God may yet reign in the hearts of men.” (Excerpts from “A Witness to the Truth,” the eulogy for The Rev. James Reeb delivered by The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (Brown Chapel, Selma, Alabama, March 15, 1965)
“Somebodyness” is a pretty good translation of the new name that people receive in baptism. Dr. King helps us realize that receiving that new name is not a transaction in which the recipient is passive. He said people “are developing a new sense of somebodyness.” Unfortunately, the new name was being blocked for some by others. It’s still happening today. Let us stop blocking the call of God that makes everyone a prophet and everyone a somebody. Let us follow Jesus and Martin to implement their prophetic agenda in a world that sorely needs it.
Each year on the third Sunday of January we combine two important experiences of call. We celebrate the life and work of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr, one of the greatest, most daring and eloquent articulators of prophetic Christianity to arise in history. And we ordain & install deacons and elders to ministry at Immanuel. To connect ordination to the work of Rev. King is to recall that he acted as a minister of the Gospel, and to appropriately raise the stakes of what it means for us to be ordained.
Ordination is always a mixed bag. On the one hand it is an opportunity to focus on the call of regular folks to ministry. On the other hand, it can make it look like ordination is the privilege of a few – deacons, elders, and ministers of word and sacrament. If we look more closely it gets even more problematic. Ordination has always included a dimension of exclusivity. For most of the past 2000 years it was only available to men. After a long struggle it opened up to women. Today a struggle is going on to open it up to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Connecting ordination to Dr. King’s legacy may help us make ordination more inclusive as we remember his statement that “a right delayed is a right denied.” Maybe it’s good that ordination is not considered a sacrament in the Presbyterian Church as in other churches. Ordination as currently practiced is not something all Christians can or do experience. Baptism is. Baptism is our true ordination to ministry. Moses said a prayer in the Book of Numbers that was fulfilled on the day of Pentecost: “would that all God’s people were prophets.” Since Pentecost all of us are called to be prophets.
The church is still catching up with Pentecost truth. Beyond ways the church tries to exclude certain people from full participation in prophetic ministry, the call itself evokes insecurity. Call is usually accompanied by doubt & inadequacy. Isaiah speaks of being called from his mother’s womb. But in living out that call he said, “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” The Apostle Paul addresses self doubt in the Christian community at Corinth, where competition for the more spectacular gifts left people feeling insecure and alienated. Dr. King himself was a reluctant leader, ridden with self-doubt in the face of attacks from his own supporters and death threats from outside.
Prophets are those who act in the midst of their doubts. How does the Spirit of the prophets help people to act more authentically in spite of their doubts? Each of the 3 texts we read this morning speaks to one way the Spirit works in us to act courageously in the face of doubts.
The Isaiah text shows that when we doubt our ability to pull off our call, the Spirit expands our vision rather than take away responsibility. When Isaiah expressed doubt about his call he recalled the deep source of that call and heard God say, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”(Is. 49:6). “You think you’re inadequate to bring my message to Israel? Then let me make your task bigger: bring it to the whole world.” Why, when he already felt overwhelmed by the task, would the Spirit expand his vision rather than rein it in? When we fail to expand our vision we use fear to protect a reduced vision that no longer serves us. Do we need to shift from putting forth our best effort to depending on a higher force? Or to focus on the big picture even if it’s too big?
In the final years of his young life, Dr. King, as the prophet Isaiah before him, knew he had to raise the stakes of his call. He came to know, against the moderating voices of some of his advisors, that he couldn’t limit his efforts to the civil rights movement. He warned that unless we engage in a great revolution of values & overcome racism, materialism and militarism, we would be “dragged down the long, dark & shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality and strength without sight.”
Has the dark time has come in our day? We face a constitutional crisis brought on by the acts of a President who has placed himself above the law and is conducting an illegal war, subverting the Constitution & willfully ignoring a planetary crisis that threatens the future of life on earth. As we are manipulated by fear and distrust, despair overcomes decency. We are losing faith in our capacity to create the world anew.
Can we hear the Spirit’s call to enlarge our vision, to include rather than exclude, to embrace rather than reject? What does this look like in practice? Last year the Nobel Peace prize went to Mohammed Yunis, who developed the Gramein Bank lending that has made over a billion dollars available in developing countries over its life. The bank makes loans to non-governmental organizations that establish community lending co-ops which work with the poor as partners, helping them to understand the ins and outs of business development and debt repayment. In the third world this system has less than 2% default.
The prophetic texts call us to do something that is not rational. Why would I trust someone who had nothing to lose? It does not make sense intellectually. Emotionally, I don’t have anything in common with these people. But if I hear a spiritual call to social justice, everything changes; my actions are different. They may seem crazy if the framework is strictly rational or emotional; but in a spiritual framework, partnership with the poor makes perfect sense. In fact, the US government, World Bank & IMF are preparing to put part of their funding into exactly this framework.
As unlikely as it sounds on paper, the message Isaiah heard to expand the vision when every thing seemed to be falling apart actually makes sense. And so does the message given by Paul to the Church at Corinth: you already have every thing you need to get the job done. “You are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of Jesus Christ.” In this second case the Spirit affirms the adequacy of peoples’ gifts (I Cor 1:7)
Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth begins with three references to call: “Paul, called to be an apostle;” “those called to be saints;” and “all those who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Then Paul affirms that there are enough gifts to go around. From the rest of the letter we know that there was a spirit of competitiveness around gifts at Corinth. People thought certain gifts were more valuable than others.
Several years ago Jackie Herst taught us an exercise she used as a professor at the UCLA School of Management. We were training church officers like the ones we ordain and install today. She divided us all up into north, south, east and west based on certain ways we tend to behave. Those in the North are those who want to get it done now. They tend to be impatient with process and want to get to action. Those in the South want to make sure to take care of people while pursuing mission. It’s never okay for them that individuals might be ignored or overworked on the way to accomplishing something, no matter how important. The folks in the East who cast the vision. They look beyond roadblocks & practical details of actually getting things done in favor of clarifying where we need to go. Finally, people who identify with the West insist on breaking down the vision into baby steps, to focus on the practical details that make sure the vision gets accomplished.
The exercise serves many purposes for teams that work together. It helps us realize that our adequacy doesn’t rest in individual capacities alone, but by putting all our gifts together as a community. Each person must offer their gift - visions will never be accomplished if someone doesn’t attend to the details. But we must not focus on our feelings of inadequacy because we can’t get the whole job done by ourselves, or judge others as inadequate because they can’t do what we can do. Some have great ideas but do not know how to get them accomplished. Others can’t lift their heads from the details long enough to know where we’re going. Some are so impatient that they start out strong but watch as their projects keep fizzling over time.
Doubt & judgments characterize communities marked by a spirit of competitiveness. When gifts for service are seen as competitive each person wonders whether her or his gifts are adequate. Because each of us is so insecure, we are blind to the insecurity of others. So we criticize them, thinking their heads are too big, that they think they are too great, when the truth is that all the time they are questioning them selves. Our criticisms evoke either defensiveness or despair in them, instead of improvement in their performance. How much better to evoke the spirit of cooperation as Paul did with the Corinthians: “I give thanks for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift.”
Finally, we come to this morning’s Gospel text. The final strategy the Spirit uses to give us the courage to act in the midst of our doubts is to give us a new name: “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas (which is translated Peter). (John 1:42) We said last week that we receive a new name at baptism. The true meaning of baptism is that we overcome our doubts by truly hearing God’s voice call us by a new & beloved name. We also said that most of us need mediators in order to believe that voice. We need people who speak God’s word to us. I don’t mean preachers who expound the Bible. I mean people who call us by our new name – the name by which God calls us: beloved.
The new name we receive isn’t only individual; it’s communal. If individually we’re called beloved, communally we’re called family. We’re not the “human race” because that leads us to compete. We are the “human family” because Jesus’ calls us to forgive, to love and pray for our enemies & adversaries. A few years ago President Bush identified three countries as an axis of evil. Decades earlier, Martin King identified three enemies of the human family: bigotry, poverty and militarism. To follow Jesus and Dr. King will lead us to critique any international foreign policy that would seek to destroy or even dominate our enemies. Their followers will always seek political and diplomatic solutions over warfare.
On March 15, Dr. King delivered the eulogy for a white Unitarian minister named James Reeb. Reeb had worked passionately and at great personal risk for civil rights in the south. He was murdered by white segregationists during a march in Selma, Alabama. But in his Eulogy, Dr. King spread the responsibility much more broadly. “James Reeb was murdered by the indifference of every minister of the gospel who has remained silent behind the safe security of stained glass windows. He was murdered by the irrelevancy of a church that will stand amid social evil and serve as a taillight rather than a headlight, an echo rather than a voice. He was murdered by the irresponsibility of every politician who has moved down the path of demagoguery, who has fed his constituents the stale bread of hatred and the spoiled meat of racism. He was murdered by the brutality of every sheriff and law enforcement agent who practices lawlessness in the name of law. He was murdered by the timidity of a federal government that can spend millions of dollars a day to keep troops in South Vietnam, yet cannot protect the lives of its own citizens seeking constitutional rights. Yes, he was even murdered by cowardice of every Negro who tacitly accepts the evil system of segregation & stands on the sidelines in the midst of a mighty struggle for justice….
I can say to you this afternoon that in spite of tensions & uncertainties of this period, something profoundly meaningful is taking place. Systems of exploitation and oppression are passing away. Out of the wombs of a frail world, new systems of justice and equality are being born. Doors of opportunity are gradually being opened. Those at the bottom of society, shirtless & barefoot people of the land, are developing a new sense of somebodyness, carving a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of despair. The kingdom of God may yet reign in the hearts of men.” (Excerpts from “A Witness to the Truth,” the eulogy for The Rev. James Reeb delivered by The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (Brown Chapel, Selma, Alabama, March 15, 1965)
“Somebodyness” is a pretty good translation of the new name that people receive in baptism. Dr. King helps us realize that receiving that new name is not a transaction in which the recipient is passive. He said people “are developing a new sense of somebodyness.” Unfortunately, the new name was being blocked for some by others. It’s still happening today. Let us stop blocking the call of God that makes everyone a prophet and everyone a somebody. Let us follow Jesus and Martin to implement their prophetic agenda in a world that sorely needs it.
January 29, 2008
January 16, 2008 - Extraordinary results from ordinary people - Hayward Fong
Matthew 5:13-16
I have been both intrigued and mystified by the dreams and visions in the Bible...wrestling angels, burning bushes, chariots of fire, a blinding light on the road to Damascus. Though these mysterious events have stirred my imagination, at the same time they seemed a bit out of this world for my engineering oriented mind. They seemed to only happen to specially chosen people, living in a period many millennia before my lifetime.
However, a deeper study in recent years of those events has shown me that these are windows through which we can see how miracles can take place in our everyday existence. In each instance, God gave the person something specific and tangible to take back into ordinary life. A guiding torch, a new name, a fresh start, a safe place…these events gave our spiritual ancestors a closeness to God, a companionship we can also attain. These people were not Superman or Wonderwoman. They were ordinary people like you and me.
Yesterday, Tuesday, January 15th was the birthday of civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. Next Monday, the third Monday in January has been set aside as a national holiday in his memory. During this coming week, there will be various interfaith activities held in his honor throughout our nation.
On August 28, 1963, he spoke these words to the multitude gathered in our nation’s capital, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” He was a man of vision, and though his children are now adults fast approaching middle age, his vision is yet to be fulfilled!
Today, I want to speak about another person of color who also carried out a dream. About five years ago, I heard Leontyne Price sing “God Bless America” at the Met on the occasion of its tribute to Richard Tucker. Leontyne Price’s road to fame was made possible by the dream of another woman of color from an earlier generation, Marian Anderson.
In 1939, Marian Anderson was denied the use of Constitution Hall in the nation’s capital for a recital because she was a black woman. The Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) prohibited its use by persons of color. Learning of this, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt publicly resigned from the organization. Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes invited Miss Anderson to perform at the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday. More than 75,000 people heard the concert live, a record at that time, and millions more heard the radio broadcast. The event was so momentous and inspiring that the DAR finally invited her to sing at the Hall for a war relief concert, an event attended by both black and white people.
Miss Anderson’s honors are legion. She was our delegate to the General Assembly of the United Nations. She received honorary doctorates from over two dozen universities, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Presidential Medal of Honor, and decorations from numerous countries. She won the United Nations Peace Prize in 1977 and her face adorns the $5,000 U.S. Savings Bond.
I believe the stand that Eleanor Roosevelt took in resigning from the DAR was a witness of her wisdom and selfless love for all the people of world, and provided spiritual strength for Miss Anderson in dealing with racism down the years.
I would like to share Mrs. Roosevelt’s wisdom and values with you as we cross the threshold into the Year 2008.
Throughout his writings, Paul speaks of our ministry as a commission, as beaming light, extending grace to more and more people, becoming ambassadors for God and working as partners with our Creator.
In our often dark joyless world, people yearn for sunshine. And when they see it shining brightly and unashamedly in another person’s life, they are drawn to inquire about it. You can be that light. Beaming light into the world depends on how we forge our friendships. Through friendships, the love of Christ can break through.
People are looking for demonstrated love. The people of God need to reach out to others in genuine love, care and empathy. Jesus said that love would mark true discipleship when he gave his new commandment (John 13:34-35).
You can tell if someone cares. He or she sends a card, provides transportation, volunteers, takes care of a child, delivers a meal, listens actively, holds a hand, extends hospitality, visits a hospital, tutors, offers a prayer, cleans, does the laundry, makes phone calls.
The story is told about a minister named Vincent who wanted to take the Gospel of Jesus Christ to slaves in the Roman galleys. He was utterly unsuccessful until he chose to be a galley slave himself. Vincent became one of them, pounding with the oars and sharing their trials and hardships. The story hits the essence of true discipleship. You can only make disciples of your friends.
So tell your story when the time comes. William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, was stung into wholehearted Christian service by a skeptic who said, “If I believed what you Christians believe, I would not rest day or night from telling people about it” (Evangelism Through the Local Church, Michael Green).
Possessing the good news of the gospel bears the obligation of sharing it. That which God divinely gave us must be passed on. You and I can be Christ’s hands, feet and lips that will bring his gospel to those who have not heard it.
Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ? If so, then “Let Your Light Shine!”
Amen.
I have been both intrigued and mystified by the dreams and visions in the Bible...wrestling angels, burning bushes, chariots of fire, a blinding light on the road to Damascus. Though these mysterious events have stirred my imagination, at the same time they seemed a bit out of this world for my engineering oriented mind. They seemed to only happen to specially chosen people, living in a period many millennia before my lifetime.
However, a deeper study in recent years of those events has shown me that these are windows through which we can see how miracles can take place in our everyday existence. In each instance, God gave the person something specific and tangible to take back into ordinary life. A guiding torch, a new name, a fresh start, a safe place…these events gave our spiritual ancestors a closeness to God, a companionship we can also attain. These people were not Superman or Wonderwoman. They were ordinary people like you and me.
Yesterday, Tuesday, January 15th was the birthday of civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. Next Monday, the third Monday in January has been set aside as a national holiday in his memory. During this coming week, there will be various interfaith activities held in his honor throughout our nation.
On August 28, 1963, he spoke these words to the multitude gathered in our nation’s capital, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” He was a man of vision, and though his children are now adults fast approaching middle age, his vision is yet to be fulfilled!
Today, I want to speak about another person of color who also carried out a dream. About five years ago, I heard Leontyne Price sing “God Bless America” at the Met on the occasion of its tribute to Richard Tucker. Leontyne Price’s road to fame was made possible by the dream of another woman of color from an earlier generation, Marian Anderson.
In 1939, Marian Anderson was denied the use of Constitution Hall in the nation’s capital for a recital because she was a black woman. The Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) prohibited its use by persons of color. Learning of this, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt publicly resigned from the organization. Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes invited Miss Anderson to perform at the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday. More than 75,000 people heard the concert live, a record at that time, and millions more heard the radio broadcast. The event was so momentous and inspiring that the DAR finally invited her to sing at the Hall for a war relief concert, an event attended by both black and white people.
Miss Anderson’s honors are legion. She was our delegate to the General Assembly of the United Nations. She received honorary doctorates from over two dozen universities, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Presidential Medal of Honor, and decorations from numerous countries. She won the United Nations Peace Prize in 1977 and her face adorns the $5,000 U.S. Savings Bond.
I believe the stand that Eleanor Roosevelt took in resigning from the DAR was a witness of her wisdom and selfless love for all the people of world, and provided spiritual strength for Miss Anderson in dealing with racism down the years.
I would like to share Mrs. Roosevelt’s wisdom and values with you as we cross the threshold into the Year 2008.
“Many people will walk in and out of your life, but true friends will leave footprints in your heart.As Christians and being disciples of Jesus Christ we are called to go into the world and share our faith in the hope that others will become disciples. The greatest thing we can do for people is to bring them into a relationship with our Lord and Savior. To do this, the lamp must be put onto the lamp stand and the salt sprinkled onto the meat.
“To handle yourself, use your head; to handle others, use your heart.
“Anger is only one letter short of danger.
“If someone betrays you once, it’s his fault; if he betrays you twice, it’s your fault.
“Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.
“He who loses money loses much; he who loses a friend loses much more, but he who loses faith loses all.
“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.
“Learn from the mistakes of others for you can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.
“Friends, you and me…you brought another friend and then we were three. We started a group, our circle of friends and like that circle there is no beginning or end.
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is mystery, today is a gift; that’s why it is the present.”
Throughout his writings, Paul speaks of our ministry as a commission, as beaming light, extending grace to more and more people, becoming ambassadors for God and working as partners with our Creator.
In our often dark joyless world, people yearn for sunshine. And when they see it shining brightly and unashamedly in another person’s life, they are drawn to inquire about it. You can be that light. Beaming light into the world depends on how we forge our friendships. Through friendships, the love of Christ can break through.
People are looking for demonstrated love. The people of God need to reach out to others in genuine love, care and empathy. Jesus said that love would mark true discipleship when he gave his new commandment (John 13:34-35).
You can tell if someone cares. He or she sends a card, provides transportation, volunteers, takes care of a child, delivers a meal, listens actively, holds a hand, extends hospitality, visits a hospital, tutors, offers a prayer, cleans, does the laundry, makes phone calls.
The story is told about a minister named Vincent who wanted to take the Gospel of Jesus Christ to slaves in the Roman galleys. He was utterly unsuccessful until he chose to be a galley slave himself. Vincent became one of them, pounding with the oars and sharing their trials and hardships. The story hits the essence of true discipleship. You can only make disciples of your friends.
So tell your story when the time comes. William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, was stung into wholehearted Christian service by a skeptic who said, “If I believed what you Christians believe, I would not rest day or night from telling people about it” (Evangelism Through the Local Church, Michael Green).
Possessing the good news of the gospel bears the obligation of sharing it. That which God divinely gave us must be passed on. You and I can be Christ’s hands, feet and lips that will bring his gospel to those who have not heard it.
Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ? If so, then “Let Your Light Shine!”
Amen.
January 26, 2008
January 13, 2008 - Spirit of Gentleness - Frank Alton
Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17
MP3 File
Last Tuesday evening I officiated at a memorial service for a young man named Frank Nieves who had died on January 1 just up the street from our home from an asthma attack complicated by an addiction to crystal meth. Chichester Chapel, which seats a maximum of about 100 people, was packed with close to 200 people for the service. I had met Frank when I first came to Immanuel 13 years ago through the HOLA program that operated at Immanuel during those years. I had spent some time counseling Frank; because he was open to receive love from just about anywhere it was being offered. Frank was a sweet, loving kid; and he was full of rage. He had been kicked out of his home by his mother because she couldn’t cope with him. He was taken in by his grand mother. I lost touch with Frank for about ten years after that. Then, last year I saw him walking by our house, and discovered that he was living up the street from us.
Ten days ago when I heard that he had died I felt a surprising sadness for someone that had been so marginal to my life. Frank had obviously left his mark on me. But why? As I watched the crowd gather for the service, and listened to the stories shared there, I realized I’d been drawn in by a combination of Frank’s capacity to love and his insatiable need to be loved. That combination led to an ability to create community around him self in ways and in places most of us would never imagine even looking for, much less finding it.
The image of community communicated thru testimony after testimony is what I believe we all long for; at least I do. When Frank arrived at HOLA, he was so full of rage that he would walk off the basketball court with ball in hand and refuse to allow the game to go on until he settled down. Sometimes that took 5 minutes; sometimes it took an hour. But when it passed, he came back as if nothing had happened and said, let’s play ball. His rage led him to continue to behave like that far into his 20s.
Yet the very people who told those stories through tears on Tuesday night spoke of how much they loved Frank, and how much they felt loved by Frank. Big guys who were still dressed like gang bangers were willing to stand up in front of 200 people and say through their tears, “I loved Frank Nieves.” One guy spoke of the period when he and Frank were homeless, and how if either of them came up with $20, it was split right down the middle between them without a thought given to not sharing it. Another spoke of being in jail with Frank, and how they supported each other. I have never had any desire to experience homelessness nor prison; yet I felt envious of the community those guys had in the midst of those circumstances.
As I was preparing this sermon, seeking a fresh word from this familiar story, I tried to get hold of the power of the image of Jesus standing on the banks of the River Jordan waiting his turn to be baptized. The image that came to mind was the community that gathered around Frank Nieves last Tuesday night. When Jesus came to the Jordan to be baptized by John, Matthew alone of all the Evangelists tells us that John tried to prevent him. Jesus responded, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” In which way? What does it mean to fulfill all righteousness? From the context it has to refer to Jesus submitting to John’s baptism, and to standing in solidarity with everyone else who had come to submit to John’s baptism. And who were they? Who else was there? Well, there were prostitutes & the adulterers who were their clients; there were tax collectors & the religious hypocrites who judged them; there were revolutionaries & the conformists who feared them; there were wimps & the bullies who beat them up. In other words, they were all there. I imagine it was a very socially uncomfortable gathering on the banks of the Jordan that day.
I have come to conclude that most of us have been sold a false bill of goods around the meaning of righteousness. We’ve been told that we become righteous by performing certain behaviors, by avoiding other behaviors, & by avoiding & distancing ourselves from people who perform those behaviors in order to assure that we will not be contaminated or tempted by them. That conviction is drummed into us at such an early age that we barely know we believe it.
But if we believe Matthew’s presentation of the story of Jesus’ baptism, we have to conclude almost exactly the opposite: that righteousness has more to do with submitting to each another, and to standing in solidarity with the very ones we have been taught to avoid. By that definition Frank Nieves was righteous – not an adjective I imagine was ever applied to him during his life time. I remember learning as far back as seminary that in Hebrew the word “righteousness” had as much to do with right relationships as with right morality – probably more so. I have felt drawn to that idea for a long time & have preached it frequently. But the image I witnessed on Tuesday night showed me that it is more than an idea. It is one of the core truths of life. That truth sunk into me a little more deeply last Tuesday night. I realized in addition that not only does righteousness enrich individual relationships; it is a key part of both creating and sustaining community. The congregation gathered for Frank’s memorial service was a true, albeit unlikely and uncomfortable, community.
Today we are reaffirming our baptism. In the Reformed understanding, baptism has everything to do with community. Yes, baptism is about entering into the death and resurrection of Jesus. But it is also about being welcomed into the covenant community of God’s faithful people. We have to transform our sanitized view of that community. I talk to many people who don’t want to come to church because they think they are not good enough. I hear from others that people in the church aren’t good enough: “I thought Christians were supposed to be righteous?” So the consequences of our misunderstanding of righteousness are serious both inside and outside the church.
We must begin to change our view of righteousness, and begin to heal the wounds that result from our misunderstanding, so that we can start to experience a more authentic community. But there’s a hitch: authentic community is messier than our sanitized version. And most of us don’t like things messy. It’s also full of surprises, and most of us like a little more control over our surprises. So what will it take for us to move toward authentic community?
I believe Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism offers us some clues. “As Jesus came up from the water, the heavens were opened to him & he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove alighting on him. A voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ Whatever you believe about the Trinity, all three members of it were present at that moment: Jesus, the Spirit of God, & the heavenly parent of Jesus who calls him beloved.
Christians have come to believe that the three persons of the Trinity have existed in community since before time. In the passage from Philippians I preached on to begin the season of dialogue we have called “Open”, Paul recites that Jesus, “though in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, being born in human likeness.”
The voice from heaven affirmed for Jesus that in the midst of his humanness he was still a beloved part of that community. Isn’t that what we all want to hear? That in the midst of expressing the most authentic part of ourselves – no matter how different we may be from some one else; no matter how at odds we might be with someone else’s view of what humanness should look like – at least one person will say, “I see you as you are, and I love the you that I see.” That affirmation is precisely what empowers us to live in community, to stand with others in solidarity, & to offer our lives in service to others. And that is the affirmation that we are invited to hear from and say to each other as a baptized community.
Let’s examine what that looks like in Jesus’ baptism. Both the Spirit of God & the voice of God came to rest on Jesus as he arose from the waters of baptism. The voice of God spoke the words we have just said that every human being longs to hear – words that transform us into people who can and will do almost anything asked by the one whose voice it is: “this is my beloved.”
In the same moment the Spirit of God led him into the wilderness where he could discern & test out what that voice was calling him to do. There in the wilderness Jesus faced all the voices both inside and outside himself that resisted following the call to be his most authentic self. From there he returned to his hometown of Nazareth, where he entered the synagogue & read from the prophet Isaiah. He found in those words the voice that won out in the wilderness: the voice that told him that the Spirit had anointed him to preach good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, & to proclaim that just as the voice of God had spoken favor to him, he was anointed to announce that God’s favor was available to all.
Is that level of graciousness available to us? Could that kind of authenticity, that kind of solidarity, that kind of service, actually come to be practiced here at Immanuel to transform us into the community we long to experience? I believe it could be, but it will require some risk, it will require some letting go of assumptions and stereotypes we may have held our entire lives, and it will take some bucking of systems that keep us from changing.
We took (will take) a little risk today in the way we are reaffirming our baptism. It’s threateningly intimate to touch each other, to look into each other’s eyes, and to speak words that call us to something we don’t find easy: to submit to the waters of baptism with people I may disagree with. Let me put that risk in perspective. I recently read about a Rural Presbyterian Church in northern India. It’s an indigenous church composed of the dalit (untouchable) people who are victims of that vile form of injustice known as the caste system, something most of us have only heard of. Though officially illegal, the caste culture still thrives and crushes the poorest of the people. By Hindu law, children of dalits can only be given a derogatory name at birth (stupid, ugly, dumb). But at the Rural Presbyterian Church when dalits come to faith in Jesus Christ, they have a re-naming ceremony, which utterly re-labels them in light of God’s grace & mercy. They step into a new identity with a new name. This extra-ordinary gift shifts power in every part of life.
To imagine a caste system in far off and exotic India from here in Los Angeles creates a dramatic contrast with our own life. But if we are honest with ourselves, don’t we need that new name just as badly as the dalits? Aren’t we just as disempowered by the pressure we feel to be inauthentic in order to be accepted, rather than risk expressing our true selves that might be misunderstood & rejected? Let us take the risk to be ourselves & stop judging each other from that place of insecurity. Let us remember our baptism and accept the new name that we are given there: beloved child.
MP3 File
Last Tuesday evening I officiated at a memorial service for a young man named Frank Nieves who had died on January 1 just up the street from our home from an asthma attack complicated by an addiction to crystal meth. Chichester Chapel, which seats a maximum of about 100 people, was packed with close to 200 people for the service. I had met Frank when I first came to Immanuel 13 years ago through the HOLA program that operated at Immanuel during those years. I had spent some time counseling Frank; because he was open to receive love from just about anywhere it was being offered. Frank was a sweet, loving kid; and he was full of rage. He had been kicked out of his home by his mother because she couldn’t cope with him. He was taken in by his grand mother. I lost touch with Frank for about ten years after that. Then, last year I saw him walking by our house, and discovered that he was living up the street from us.
Ten days ago when I heard that he had died I felt a surprising sadness for someone that had been so marginal to my life. Frank had obviously left his mark on me. But why? As I watched the crowd gather for the service, and listened to the stories shared there, I realized I’d been drawn in by a combination of Frank’s capacity to love and his insatiable need to be loved. That combination led to an ability to create community around him self in ways and in places most of us would never imagine even looking for, much less finding it.
The image of community communicated thru testimony after testimony is what I believe we all long for; at least I do. When Frank arrived at HOLA, he was so full of rage that he would walk off the basketball court with ball in hand and refuse to allow the game to go on until he settled down. Sometimes that took 5 minutes; sometimes it took an hour. But when it passed, he came back as if nothing had happened and said, let’s play ball. His rage led him to continue to behave like that far into his 20s.
Yet the very people who told those stories through tears on Tuesday night spoke of how much they loved Frank, and how much they felt loved by Frank. Big guys who were still dressed like gang bangers were willing to stand up in front of 200 people and say through their tears, “I loved Frank Nieves.” One guy spoke of the period when he and Frank were homeless, and how if either of them came up with $20, it was split right down the middle between them without a thought given to not sharing it. Another spoke of being in jail with Frank, and how they supported each other. I have never had any desire to experience homelessness nor prison; yet I felt envious of the community those guys had in the midst of those circumstances.
As I was preparing this sermon, seeking a fresh word from this familiar story, I tried to get hold of the power of the image of Jesus standing on the banks of the River Jordan waiting his turn to be baptized. The image that came to mind was the community that gathered around Frank Nieves last Tuesday night. When Jesus came to the Jordan to be baptized by John, Matthew alone of all the Evangelists tells us that John tried to prevent him. Jesus responded, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” In which way? What does it mean to fulfill all righteousness? From the context it has to refer to Jesus submitting to John’s baptism, and to standing in solidarity with everyone else who had come to submit to John’s baptism. And who were they? Who else was there? Well, there were prostitutes & the adulterers who were their clients; there were tax collectors & the religious hypocrites who judged them; there were revolutionaries & the conformists who feared them; there were wimps & the bullies who beat them up. In other words, they were all there. I imagine it was a very socially uncomfortable gathering on the banks of the Jordan that day.
I have come to conclude that most of us have been sold a false bill of goods around the meaning of righteousness. We’ve been told that we become righteous by performing certain behaviors, by avoiding other behaviors, & by avoiding & distancing ourselves from people who perform those behaviors in order to assure that we will not be contaminated or tempted by them. That conviction is drummed into us at such an early age that we barely know we believe it.
But if we believe Matthew’s presentation of the story of Jesus’ baptism, we have to conclude almost exactly the opposite: that righteousness has more to do with submitting to each another, and to standing in solidarity with the very ones we have been taught to avoid. By that definition Frank Nieves was righteous – not an adjective I imagine was ever applied to him during his life time. I remember learning as far back as seminary that in Hebrew the word “righteousness” had as much to do with right relationships as with right morality – probably more so. I have felt drawn to that idea for a long time & have preached it frequently. But the image I witnessed on Tuesday night showed me that it is more than an idea. It is one of the core truths of life. That truth sunk into me a little more deeply last Tuesday night. I realized in addition that not only does righteousness enrich individual relationships; it is a key part of both creating and sustaining community. The congregation gathered for Frank’s memorial service was a true, albeit unlikely and uncomfortable, community.
Today we are reaffirming our baptism. In the Reformed understanding, baptism has everything to do with community. Yes, baptism is about entering into the death and resurrection of Jesus. But it is also about being welcomed into the covenant community of God’s faithful people. We have to transform our sanitized view of that community. I talk to many people who don’t want to come to church because they think they are not good enough. I hear from others that people in the church aren’t good enough: “I thought Christians were supposed to be righteous?” So the consequences of our misunderstanding of righteousness are serious both inside and outside the church.
We must begin to change our view of righteousness, and begin to heal the wounds that result from our misunderstanding, so that we can start to experience a more authentic community. But there’s a hitch: authentic community is messier than our sanitized version. And most of us don’t like things messy. It’s also full of surprises, and most of us like a little more control over our surprises. So what will it take for us to move toward authentic community?
I believe Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism offers us some clues. “As Jesus came up from the water, the heavens were opened to him & he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove alighting on him. A voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ Whatever you believe about the Trinity, all three members of it were present at that moment: Jesus, the Spirit of God, & the heavenly parent of Jesus who calls him beloved.
Christians have come to believe that the three persons of the Trinity have existed in community since before time. In the passage from Philippians I preached on to begin the season of dialogue we have called “Open”, Paul recites that Jesus, “though in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, being born in human likeness.”
The voice from heaven affirmed for Jesus that in the midst of his humanness he was still a beloved part of that community. Isn’t that what we all want to hear? That in the midst of expressing the most authentic part of ourselves – no matter how different we may be from some one else; no matter how at odds we might be with someone else’s view of what humanness should look like – at least one person will say, “I see you as you are, and I love the you that I see.” That affirmation is precisely what empowers us to live in community, to stand with others in solidarity, & to offer our lives in service to others. And that is the affirmation that we are invited to hear from and say to each other as a baptized community.
Let’s examine what that looks like in Jesus’ baptism. Both the Spirit of God & the voice of God came to rest on Jesus as he arose from the waters of baptism. The voice of God spoke the words we have just said that every human being longs to hear – words that transform us into people who can and will do almost anything asked by the one whose voice it is: “this is my beloved.”
In the same moment the Spirit of God led him into the wilderness where he could discern & test out what that voice was calling him to do. There in the wilderness Jesus faced all the voices both inside and outside himself that resisted following the call to be his most authentic self. From there he returned to his hometown of Nazareth, where he entered the synagogue & read from the prophet Isaiah. He found in those words the voice that won out in the wilderness: the voice that told him that the Spirit had anointed him to preach good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, & to proclaim that just as the voice of God had spoken favor to him, he was anointed to announce that God’s favor was available to all.
Is that level of graciousness available to us? Could that kind of authenticity, that kind of solidarity, that kind of service, actually come to be practiced here at Immanuel to transform us into the community we long to experience? I believe it could be, but it will require some risk, it will require some letting go of assumptions and stereotypes we may have held our entire lives, and it will take some bucking of systems that keep us from changing.
We took (will take) a little risk today in the way we are reaffirming our baptism. It’s threateningly intimate to touch each other, to look into each other’s eyes, and to speak words that call us to something we don’t find easy: to submit to the waters of baptism with people I may disagree with. Let me put that risk in perspective. I recently read about a Rural Presbyterian Church in northern India. It’s an indigenous church composed of the dalit (untouchable) people who are victims of that vile form of injustice known as the caste system, something most of us have only heard of. Though officially illegal, the caste culture still thrives and crushes the poorest of the people. By Hindu law, children of dalits can only be given a derogatory name at birth (stupid, ugly, dumb). But at the Rural Presbyterian Church when dalits come to faith in Jesus Christ, they have a re-naming ceremony, which utterly re-labels them in light of God’s grace & mercy. They step into a new identity with a new name. This extra-ordinary gift shifts power in every part of life.
To imagine a caste system in far off and exotic India from here in Los Angeles creates a dramatic contrast with our own life. But if we are honest with ourselves, don’t we need that new name just as badly as the dalits? Aren’t we just as disempowered by the pressure we feel to be inauthentic in order to be accepted, rather than risk expressing our true selves that might be misunderstood & rejected? Let us take the risk to be ourselves & stop judging each other from that place of insecurity. Let us remember our baptism and accept the new name that we are given there: beloved child.
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