Traveling Mercies

Scriptures:     Genesis 37:1-28  Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22, 45

Romans 10:5-15         Matthew 14:22-33

Those of us of a certain age may remember a TV show called Gilligan’s Island.  Five tourists – a professor, a movie star, a millionaire and his wife, and a farm girl climb onto a small boat, the Minnow, with the skipper and Gilligan, his first mate, for a three hour tour. Of course, as we may remember, the weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed, and if not for the courage of the fearless crew the Minnow would be lost.  They ended up landing on an uncharted desert island, and because of the foresight of the professor in packing his entire lab and the movie star packing her entire wardrobe and the others apparently bringing the contents of several homes onto the tiny tour boat for their three hour tour, they manage to last on TV from 1964 to 1967, and played in syndication for decades thereafter, and if you look hard enough you watch even today, 50 years later.  

Our Old Testament and Gospel reading both give us stories of journeys under difficult circumstances – Joseph’s unwilling journey to Egypt, after he was sold into slavery by his jealous brothers, and the disciples of Jesus, out in a small boat in the midst of a terrifying storm.  And then, at the invitation of Jesus, Peter stepping out of the boat into the storm, to begin to walk on the water himself before he lost his nerve.

In what our scripture calls “the story of the family of Jacob”, the dysfunction of Jacob’s family plays out for the next generation – Jacob and  his brother Esau were at odds, and Jacob’s youngest son Joseph ends up being at odds with the rest of his brothers. Not that Joseph didn’t give them reason; he had dreams in which the rest of his family would bow down to him – and far down the road, these dreams would come true, but they weren’t the most endearing and diplomatic things to tell his family. The brothers originally plotted to kill him, but Reuben argued to spare his life, and while Reuben’s attention was elsewhere, Judah argued that they should sell him to some Ishmaelite traders.  The deed done, they went home to their father Jacob.   Years earlier, Jacob had deceived his father Isaac, and Jacob in turn was deceived by his sons, who told him that a wild animal had killed Joseph. 

Joseph would go through many adventures before he would see his brothers again.  He was sold to an officer of Pharoah and became overseer of his house.  The officer’s wife threw herself at Joseph, and when Joseph would not give into her wiles, she had him arrested.  And in prison, Joseph is given responsibility over the other prisoners.  Two other prisoners came to learn that Joseph had power to interpret dreams, and one of these eventually told Pharoah of Joseph’s gift.  Joseph was brought before Pharoah to interpret his dream, and ultimately Joseph was given responsibility over the country, second only to Pharoah.  Throughout these events, there’s a constant refrain:  the Lord was with Joseph, the Lord prospered Joseph.  And, as Joseph would later tell his brothers, their actions that they had taken with the intent of harming Joseph  worked out not only for Joseph’s good, but for that of his family.

The disciples of Jesus found themselves on a shorter, but still bumpy ride.  Jesus had just fed the five thousand, and was sending the crowds home.  He sent his disciples home as well, via boat, but stayed behind to pray.  While Jesus prayed, the wind and waves began to pelt the boat, and if not for the courage of the fearless crew, the minnow would be lost.

Well, actually, the crew’s courage had nothing to do with it.  As they were struggling, they saw Jesus coming to them on the water.  Peter said, “If you’re really Jesus, let me walk on the water to you”  Jesus said, “Go for it.”  And we’re told that Peter started to walk to Jesus on the water – until he lost focus on Jesus  Jesus caught him, the climbed into the boat, and the storm stopped.

This story of Jesus calming the water seems to have been a favorite of the early church, because it’s in three of the four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and John, and always in the same place, immediately following the feeding of the five thousand.  I believe it was popular with the early church, because the story is not only about Jesus, but it is about them and who they were as the church.  They saw themselves as that little band of disciples out in a small boat, with the winds and waves pounding them – and only Jesus able to save.

As individuals, and as a congregation, I think we can relate to this story as well.  Our current congregation is probably about the same size as some of the early house churches – so we, like they, are small and seemingly fragile.  And our individual lives are the same as we deal with illness, hunger, addiction.  Our lives at time seem small and fragile.  But faith gives us resilience, an ability to take a pounding and keep on going, keep on moving forward.  Faith helped Joseph weather the many changes life put him through so that he could come out on the other side.  Faith sustained the disciples in the storm, even if it wavered, and eventually brought them safely home.  We trust that Jesus will not abandon us, and that Jesus will not abandon our congregation.

My sermon was going to end roughly here, but then the events of yesterday in Charlottesville, VA unfolded, prompting many pastors to stay up rewriting their sermons.  A gathering of far right wing hate groups – groups such as the Klan and the League of the South, groups many of us likely thought we were done with, along with skinheads, Neo-Nazis, along with newer groups such as Proud Boys and other self-named Alt-Right groups – converted in Charlottesville VA under the banner of “Unite the Right”, and a march was part of their plan.  There was a time when the Klan would call a march, and maybe 10 people might show up. Of course, there was an earlier time when the Klan would call a march, and thousands would show up – but many of us thought those days were behind us.  But something in society seems to be shifting, and several hundred were in Charlottesville.  Counterprotestors, ranging from far left groups - socialists to anarchists - to more traditional civil rights organizations to mainline clergy, were there as well, to oppose the message of hate.  The Klan, Nazi, and skinhead groups marched, chanting mottos such as “blood and soil” – an old Nazi slogan from the 1930’s – along with “You will not replace us” which quickly morphed into an anti-Semitic version, “Jew will not replace us.”  It soon became clear that the Klan wasn’t just there to speak, but to cause trouble, to physically attack people.  They instigated violence against counterprotestors, and even clergy weren’t safe.  Our denomination’s Executive Minister for Justice and Witness, Traci Blackmon, was on camera with television news reporters describing the scene when suddenly she said “Gotta go!” as clergy were being menaced.  I was glad to see a representative from the United Church of Christ visible, on camera, standing against the racial hatred – our denomination has been on the front lines against racism and other forms of discermination countless times, but rarely get much coverage – but the circumstances were chilling.  Late in the day, a car driven by a supporter of the march drove a car into a group of counterprotestors, killing three and injuring dozens of others.  A police helicopter that had been monitoring the event crashed, killing two state troopers.

There are journeys we taking willingly, journeys we take unwillingly, and journeys we shouldn’t take at all.  The Klan groups would like to take our country back to a time of legalized, official discrimination and unofficial violence against nonwhites, and the neo-Nazi groups would like to take our country to a place we’ve never been.  In the 1930’s and 40’s, many American commentators asked themselves, “Could it” – it meaning Nazi-ism or some other form of fascism – “happen here.”  The answer was always a reassuring, “No, America is different, we love freedom, we’re immune to fascism, it can’t happen here.”  Sinclair Lewis’s 1936 book “It Can’t Happen Here” questioned this feeling of complacency, and imagined an alternate America in which fascism came to America, not with swastikas, but waving the American flag and carrying the cross, an alternative America in which the dearest symbols of nation and faith had been hijacked for the cause of hate.  In any case, it’s clear that there is a constituency in this country that would very much like to see fascism happen here – still quite small, but seemingly growing.

There are journeys we take willingly, journeys we take unwillingly, and journeys we shouldn’t take at all.  We warn children, “Don’t get into cars with strangers”, and we as a country shouldn’t get into the car with these strangers – even though some may be our neighbors.  As Christians, first and foremost, we need to remember who we are and whose we are, and who we serve, Jesus who taught his disciples that love of God was inseparable from love of neighbor, and that the word “neighbor” included everybody, even those we might think of as enemies.  Simply put, you cannot hate others and still claim to love Jesus. I John 4:20: Those who say ‘I love God’ and hate their brothers or sisters are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.”   We may disagree on politics and policies, but when we deny the basic humanity of others, we ultimately deny our own.

What does love look like when hate is on the march?  What are hugs against brass knuckles and baseball bats.   And I’m surely not about to hug it out with a guy swinging a baseball bat at my head.  But he’s still my neighbor, even if he himself doesn’t know it.   Love means saying “no”, early and often, to hate.   Love means protecting the vulnerable, even those we’re not comfortable with.  And love means getting in the way of hate, perhaps putting ourselves between haters and their targets.   We, like Peter, may have to climb out of the boat of our own comfort zones to face the storm of hate around us head on.  Love means finding ways to remind the haters that they, too, are still children of God, and that there is a better way, the better way of love – the way of love that Joseph demonstrated to his brothers who in hate had sold him into slavery.  He could have become bitter and denied them assistance when they needed it – and he did play with their heads a bit if you read the story – but ultimately he said, “I am Joseph, your brother.  What you meant for evil God meant for good. And you are welcome here.”

We’ll be leaving this place to go out into a world in which the wind and waves will pound us.  Let us remember who we are, as followers of Jesus whose costly love for humanity led to the cross – and beyond.  Let us remember who God is, the faithful one who will not abandon us.  And here’s your homework assignment for the week:  always, always,  choose the path of love.  Amen.