Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Beginning of Good News




Scriptures:       Isaiah 40:1-11,  Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13,
2 Peter 3:8-15a,  Mark 1:1-8
  

The Beginning of Good News

You may have seen the local news accounts on TV, or perhaps you were there yourselves:  earlier this week, persons protesting the grand jury verdicts acquitting the officers who shot Michael Brown and Eric Garner held a die-in at 30th Street station.  After the die-in, they marched to City Hall, when their protests disrupted the ceremonial lighting of the Christmas tree.    What the crowd gathered at City Hall wanted and expected was a comforting, familiar community ritual, with twinkling lights and sweetly-sung Christmas carols.   What they got, this year, was an unwelcome and disruptive message, even amid the twinkling lights, that black lives are being lost at the hand of police and that, even amid the twinkling lights, families and communities are weeping and in pain.

Believe it or not, I think the writer of Mark’s Gospel would have approved.  Mark’s Gospel, thought to have been the earliest of the four gospels to be written, is anything but warm and fuzzy.  Mark offers us no shepherds, no wise men, no choirs of angels, no baby lying in the manger.  [As an aside, for those who want to discuss the familiar birth narratives in Matthew and Luke, stay after church for our adult Bible study.]  In Mark’s gospel, we don’t even meet Jesus’ family until the 3rd chapter – almost a quarter of the way through, well after Jesus has started his ministry - and the first time we meet Jesus’ family, they think Jesus has gone insane.  Basically Jesus’ family is chasing after Jesus with the proverbial butterfly net and are trying to have him put in restraints.   Mark gives us none of the comforting Hallmark greeting card imagery we associate with Christmas.  Instead, Mark’s disruptive gospel begins by introducing us to John the Baptist, the wild man in the wilderness, whose appearance would have reminded his audience of the Old Testament prophet Elijah.  And like Elijah before him, John the Baptist spoke unwelcome truth to entrenched power, and John’s bold words would ultimately cost him his life.  And, of course, we know that Jesus’ life will follow a similar course – but with a surprise at the end, which we’ll learn about on Easter.

At this time of year, we seek the comfort of Christmas carols, but John the Baptist is more like an alarm clock, loud, screeching, impossible to ignore and essential to hear.  And, like the screeching of an alarm clock, the message of John the Baptist is “WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!  Someone greater than I is coming, who will change everything!  GET READY!”  He told people not only to wake up, but to repent and be baptized.  You would think that, with such an uncompromising message, he’d be out in the desert talking mostly to himself, but instead, crowds of people traveled from the familiarity of their homes far, far into the wilderness in order to listen to what John had to say.

They came because they were dissatisfied with their lives.  And they had a lot to be dissatisfied with.  Israel had for many years been a dusty, out of the way province of the Roman empire.  The vast majority of the people were impoverished.   People were taxed heavily in order to support Rome, and then taxed again to support the Temple and its religious hierarchy.   Soldiers could conscript passersby – those the soldiers caught “walking while Jewish” - to carry their gear for a mile – that’s where Jesus’ saying that, “If you are forced to go one mile, to go the second mile” comes from.  And the chief priests were in cahoots with Rome in giving Rome’s oppression of the people divine sanction – so they brought no relief.  And, bonus points, if you objected to any of the above strongly enough, you’d likely end up on a cross – Rome crucified lots and lots of folks in Jerusalem, and Jesus is unique not for being crucified, but for being resurrected.

In their dissatisfaction, the people went to John.  In response, John told them to look at their own lives, and to turn from their sinful ways.  Granted, they suffered greatly from forces beyond their control, but John invited them to look at what part they were playing in their own oppression.  And in the waters of baptism, John freed them up to begin anew, freed from the burden of sin they’d been carrying, freed to live in a new way.

Many Christians wonder why we have to deal with Advent, the season of waiting.   Why the slow coming of the light as we light the advent candles, one more candle each week than the last, until at Christmas Eve we finally light the Christ candle.  Why the mournful hymns like “O Come, O Come Emanuel?”  Why can’t we just fast-forward to “Joy to the World?”  The reason we need Advent is that Advent reminds us that Christ’s coming is not just an extra zest to add to our usual routine, not just the heavenly cherry on top of our banquet of earthly delights.  Rather, when we say that Jesus came to save, it means exactly what it says - that Jesus came, not just to tweak our lives to make them a little more satisfying, not just to bless our own efforts at self-fulfillment, but to save, to rescue, those in deep pain and deep despair.  This is why Jesus said that it is the sick, not the well, who are in need of a physician.  That’s why Jesus spent most of his time, not with the movers and shakers, but with the moved and the shaken, why Jesus got along best, not with the priests and Pharisees, but with the prostitutes and others utterly pressed into the dust by their society, by the powers that were.  When we say that Jesus is the light of the world, that light is not just like an extra light bulb in a brightly-lit shopping mall display, but like a candle in a pitch-black room.   And so if we deny the existence of the darkness – in our society and in our own lives – we likewise deny Jesus, the light of the world, the opportunity to pierce that darkness. 

I began this sermon by mentioning those protesting the grand jury verdicts acquitting those police officers who gunned down Michael Brown and Eric Garner.  Part of the darkness of our society, part of the darkness that the protestors at the Christmas tree lighting were pointing out, part of the darkness that Advent recognizes and part of the darkness Jesus came to dispel, is that our views of events are so deeply divided along lines of race, class, socio-economic status, gender, sexual orientation.  It’s not only racial – actions that persons of one gender may interpret as “just being sociable” can be seen as intrusive and threatening by persons of the other; actions that heterosexuals may interpret as “just teasing” can be experienced as devastating by non-heterosexuals.  Where we sit – our social location – often determines where we stand, what we see, and what we hear.  One of the most difficult challenges of discipleship is to see and hear things through the eyes and ears of others, our sisters and brothers who are different from us.  Many of us who are white see those who were killed, and imagine ourselves being menaced and threatened by similar characters.  Many blacks, by contrast, see those who were killed, and imagine themselves at the wrong end of a police officer’s gun.  Many of us who are white cannot imagine ourselves in that position, and therefore may have trouble empathizing with those who do.  Some of us may have had the odd skirmish with the law – a traffic ticket, for example – and while we may have been angry at the officer for pulling us over – or angry at ourselves for not paying attention to the speed limit – it may be hard for us to imagine such an encounter ending with a trip to the hospital, or the morgue.

Along those lines, I’d like to talk about a long-ago incident of extremely foolish behavior on my part, something that happened about 30 years ago – and I’ll preface my story with a very loud “don’t try this at home.”  Please, please don’t try this at home…..I’m about to tell you something I did as a dumb stupid 25 year old, not to my knowledge illegal, but certainly highly unadvisable.  I’ve mentioned in previous sermons that I’m not the most patient person behind the wheel of a car – and that’s at age 53, after I’ve mellowed considerably.  You can imagine what I was like behind the wheel of a car 30 years ago.  Some friends and I – all from the suburbs – had driven into the city and gone to a comedy club.  Along with the laughs, we’d all had a drink or two, including me – at two beers, I was well under the legal limit of intoxication, but perhaps a bit less uptight and buttoned down than usual.  I was driving my friends, who lived on the mean streets of Wayne, Pennsylvania, out on the Main Line, where even 30 years ago the homes were valued at over a million dollars, home; it was late, and I was starting to get tired.   I just wanted to drop them off, get back to my 3rd floor walkup apartment in a considerably less luxurious part of Chester County, and call it a night.  As I was driving in Wayne on a dark side street, I had just stopped at a stop sign, then driven through the intersection, and about halfway up the block was a car, dark color, motor running, lights off, right in the middle of the street.  I tapped on the horn.  No response.  I whonked on the horn, really leaned on it.  Still no response.  I just laid into the horn a third time – WHOOOOONK - and when there was still no response, I rolled down the window and at the top of my lungs I yelled, “If you don’t move that piece of crap, I’m gonna move it for you.”  And that time I got a response, as the car’s red and blue lights started flashing, and I hear a siren go “bloop…..”….turns out the car stopped in front of me was an unmarked police car.  Ooops!  As my friends in the back seat started trying to slide down and hide themselves underneath my seat, the car turned on its headlights and tail lights – and, amazingly, pulled over to the curb and stopped again, and turned out its lights.  The officer never got out.  I’d imagine he must have looked in the rear view mirror, seen a bunch of clean-cut, well-dressed, harmless looking twenty-somethings, and figured it wasn’t worth making a scene.  In any case, I rolled up my window, drove past the unmarked vehicle, dropped my friends off, and went home, with no lasting consequences beyond having a funny story to tell in a sermon some thirty years later.  And yes, I must have had a guardian angel or two in the car with me that night.

Let’s replay my story with me and my friends being black – we’d driven into the city, gone to a comedy club, had a couple beers each, and I’m dropping my friends off in the suburbs.  I come across a car stopped in the middle of the street, running, with its lights out, and make the mistake of mouthing off to the driver, who turns out to be a police officer….who looks in the rear view mirror, and notices that my friends and I don’t fit the neighborhood profile, don’t look like most of the folks who live on that block, maybe to that officer don’t look all that harmless.  So the  officer figures that, at the very least, he should check us out.  And so, instead of pulling his unmarked car over to the curb and letting us go on our way, he steps out of the car, walks up to my car and asks for license and registration.   Perhaps he asks my friends and I to step out of the car.  Perhaps, smelling beer on my breath – I’d had two earlier that evening, remember - he asks me to walk a straight line.  A reasonable enough request, except I have recurring problems with dizziness, especially when change positions, such as when I first stand up after having been sitting for a while, and so it’s entirely possible I would have stumbled and lost my balance.   And perhaps things would have gone downhill from there.  If the officer is upset enough, perhaps I don’t go home that night.  If I panic and do something to cause the officer to reach for his gun, perhaps I don’t go home ever.   And, if that happens, the police department could always release a video of me yelling out the window, and justify the shooting on the basis of my inappropriate behavior, saying I was behaving in a threatening manner.  As the event actually occurred, even though I did something monumentally stupid, the officer gave my friends and me the benefit of the doubt.  Had we been black, we still might have gotten the benefit of the doubt – or not.  And the consequences of “not” could have been quite detrimental, could have sent my life careening off in an altogether different direction, or perhaps ended it altogether.

I go through all that, just as an example that, like me, if we did deep enough into the recesses of our memories, I think most of us have done stupid stuff, maybe even stupid borderline illegal stuff, stupid stuff that, under only slightly different circumstances, could have had us run afoul of the police, stuff that, if caught on a snippet of video and played over and over on prime time TV, would give people a misleading impression of who we are.  Fortunately, most of us will take those memories to the grave, with none the wiser.  It’s safe to say that no human being, created in God’s image, of any race, deserves to have the value of their life negated because they shoved a clerk, or shoplifted cigars, or sold loose cigarettes, or played with a toy gun, or because these or other inappropriate actions were caught on film.   In today’s reading from Mark’s gospel, John the Baptist invites us not to point the finger at “those people” – however defined – but rather to look at the three fingers pointing back at us, ponder our own complicity in the evil we see around us, and to repent, to turn and begin anew, to begin changing the world by changing ourselves.

In a few minutes, we will be sharing in the sacrament of Holy Communion.  As we share, may we remember that the table at which we gather is a small part of a much larger table that extends around the world, a table at which sinners and saints of every description gather.  In the waters of our baptism and as we share bread and wine at the table of the Lord, Christ has broken down every dividing wall, so that, as St Paul wrote, there is neither Jew nor Greek, free nor slave, male or female.  It’s a foretaste of that heavenly banquet table where many will come from the north and the south and the east and the west and sit together, where Officer Darrell Wilson and Michael Brown, Eric Garner and Officer Daniel Pantaleo, where George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin will sit at table together and eat and drink in Christ’s presence, surrounded and enveloped by Christ’s encompassing love.  May our lives today reflect that love, inviting our neighbors, those neighbors we love and those neighbors we can’t stand, to taste and see that the Lord is good.  May we live such transparent lives that, in all we say and do, our neighbors can see only the crucified and risen Christ.  Amen.

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