Turning Point

Scriptures:     Genesis 45:1-15                     Psalm 133

Romans 11:1-2, 29-32           Matthew 15:1-28

Do you remember a time in your life when you did something, or something happened to you, that changed the course of your life from that point on?  I think we all have those moments.  For many, it may be the day you meet your spouse or partner….and somehow you know, this is the one.   Or maybe you don’t know, but you like the person well enough to see him or her again….and again….and matters take their course.  Either way, whether it’s love at first sight or love at 50^th date, you come out on the other side a different person than you were before.    Or we may encounter a problem for the first time – perhaps we’re ill, or we’re trying to advocate for a relative to get them to see a doctor, or trying to connect a friend or acquaintance to social services for the first time, and we realize that other people are struggling with the same situation and how broken the system is.  As the saying goes, “once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.”  We may look back and realize that we’ve been living in a bubble all this time, and now this situation has burst our bubble and we’re seeing things clearly – or at least more clearly – for the first time.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus has such an encounter – not with a future spouse, not with an uncooperative social service agency, but with a woman who for whatever reason really pushed all his buttons, every single one.  We see a portrait of a very human Jesus who resisted a desperate plea for help, but whose eyes and heart were eventually opened in ways that set the course not only for his own ministry, but perhaps for his early followers and the generations that follow.

This encounter happened, ironically enough, when Jesus was trying to lead others to re-examine their own cultural blinders.  Jesus and his followers had been accosted by religious leaders – Pharisees and scribes – who questioned why the disciples of Jesus did not follow the ritual of handwashing prescribed by the Pharisees and scribes.  And before I go any further – let me say that washing our hands before eating is a very good and healthy practice.  Especially if you work in food service, you should carefully wash your hands before preparing food for others.  But for these religious leaders, handwashing was not only a healthy practice, but a religious obligation, a way of honoring God – perhaps they took the idea that cleanliness is next to godliness, and ran a bit too far with it.   Jesus came right back at them, reminding them that their tradition was just that – tradition – and not the word of God handed down from on high.  He pointed at a place in which their tradition violated one of the ten commandments, the commandment to honor our parents, by saying that a person could give their money to the Temple and get out of giving financial support to their parents – we might think of someone who sends all their money to Creflo Dollar or some other huckstering televangelist, while letting their parents eat cat food.   Jesus then leaves the crowd with a sort of riddle:  it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth.  Alone with his disciples, he explains his words:  food just goes into the mouth, through the digestive system, and out the other end, and has no effect on a person’s character. Mark’s version of this story adds the words, “Thus Jesus declared all foods clean” i.e. declared kosher laws null and void for his followers.  But Jesus also said that what comes out of a person’s mouth – lying or offensive words motivated by bad motives – does defile a person.  Perhaps we might think of encountering a person who attracts us…until they start to talk and we realize they have a potty mouth, and the attraction disappears.

Jesus may have, as Mark said, declared all foods clean, but he wasn’t quite ready yet to say the same for all people.  Up to this point,  most of Jesus’ ministry had been among his own Jewish community.  Earlier in Matthew’s gospel, he had healed a centurion’s servant, but that was an outlier.  When he sent his disciples on their first mission, he told them, “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”  And despite the occasional outlier, this phrase – “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” – defined the focus of Jesus’ ministry to this point.

We’re told that Jesus, with his disciples, went to the district of Tyre and Sidon – Gentile territory.  Mark’s gospel tells us that he did not want anyone to know he was there – he had just been through an exhausting time of teaching, healing, then feeding the five thousand, then rescuing the disciples on the lake, and then an encounter with the Pharisees – and perhaps Jesus just wanted some down time, in an area where the people were unlikely to recognize him.  After all, it wasn’t like he walked around with a visible halo or big neon sign over his head saying “This is Jesus”. 

But a woman found him – a Gentile woman.  Matthew’s gospel refers to this woman as a Canaanite woman – remember that in the Old Testament, when Joshua led the children of Israel across the Jordan into the promised land, the people who lived there – and who the Israelites had tried to wipe out – were the Canaanites.  So under normal circumstances, this woman would have likely tried to avoid Jesus, because he was a Jew, a descendent of those who had tried to wipe her people out.  But the woman was desperate – her daughter, we’re told, was tormented by a demon – and by reputation she had learned that Jesus was a healer.  So she started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David” – even though she’s Canaanite, she addressed Jesus as the Jewish messiah.  And Jesus did something that seems very strange to us – though it’s probably exactly how the woman would have expected a Jew, even a Jewish messiah, to respond = Jesus ignored her, not saying a word.  “Hey lady, talk to the hand.”   Most of us have probably done the same thing at one time or another when panhandlers have come our way.  But it’s not how we expect Jesus to act.

Jesus’ disciples – all Jews as well – act no better.  “She’s a pest; send her away,” they say.   So Jesus told the woman, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” – unspoken, of course, was the implication “and that doesn’t include you, lady.”  The woman throws herself at Jesus feet, pleading “Lord, help me.”  Then Jesus becomes obnoxious, saying to her “It’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”  So Jesus called the woman a dog.   Charming.  But the woman came right back at him, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”  Ok, Jesus, if you’re going to call me a dog, then at least give me the consideration you’d give a dog.  And then Jesus said, in effect, “You win!”   He told the woman, “Great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”

What are we to make of this story, and especially Jesus’ seemingly mean-spirited behavior.  As Christians we believe that Jesus is fully divine and fully human.  Fully human….meaning that he grew up in a specific culture – the Jewish culture of his time – which came with specific Jewish cultural customs and boundaries.  .  Jesus was questioning some of those customs – remember that before encountering the woman, Jesus had just set aside kosher food regulations for his followers.  But he was still struggling with his culture’s boundaries around dealing with Gentiles – and those cultural boundaries basically told Jesus “avoid Gentiles if at all possible”.  And initially, when Jesus encountered this woman, he acted according to those boundaries. Jesus’ initial response to the woman would have been very typical for a Jewish male of his day.   But the woman wouldn’t take no for an answer, and his eyes were opened to see not just her ethnicity, but her humanity, and especially her faith.  It’s striking that Jesus’ recognition of the woman’s great faith comes shortly after Jesus’ chastisement of Peter and the other disciples for their little faith.  As often happened in Jesus’ life, it was the outsiders that responded most strongly to his message.

This was a turning point for Jesus.  Up to this point, Jesus saw himself as being sent to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”   After this encounter, his sense of mission expanded to include Gentiles – remember that at the end of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus sends his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations.  Had Jesus stayed with his original mission plan, we would not be sitting here today.  His teachings might have been the basis for a minor sect within the Judaism of his day, such as the Essenes.  Or they might have followed the course of the disciples of Jesus’ mentor John the Baptist, who formed their own separatist community, known to this day as the Mandeans, comprising maybe 60 - 70,000 people worldwide, mostly in Iran and Iraq.    To most of the world, their religious practices are little more than a relic, a sort of living historical artifact, a blast from the ancient past.  Had Jesus turned the woman away, his community could have become something similar – a small separatist group destined for obscurity.   And had the woman meekly gone away without challenging Jesus, the same thing may have happened.  So for this turning point to have an impact on Jesus, two things needed to happen:  the woman needed to persist in making her case, and Jesus had to become open to her words.

At the time Matthew’s gospel was being written – likely after AD 70, the first and second generations of Jesus’ disciples were having similar encounters and discussions.  The first followers of Jesus were Jewish.  As Gentiles were drawn to the community, especially through Paul’s mission to the Gentiles, there were intense discussions over what to do with these new arrivals.  Some said that only Jews could follow Jesus.  Some said that Gentiles could be part of the community, but they had to first convert to Judaism, including circumcision.  Others said they didn’t have to be circumcised, but they did have to follow all the kosher guidelines and such.  And some, such as Paul, said that these new arrivals should be accepted without having to conform to Jewish practice – and Paul’s argument eventually won the day.  The story of the encounter between Jesus and this Canaanite woman likely led the church in the direction of inclusion.

We, too, can learn from this encounter about dealing with people of differing beliefs.  Our values are often a reflection of our life experience, and may change over time.  While I’ve been a Christian all my life, the ways I live out my faith now are very different from the ways I lived out my faith 30 years ago – and while I sometimes feel regrets that I only started pastoring in my late 40’s, with my life more than half over, I’m very glad I didn’t try to pastor a church with the mindset I held in my 20’s.   I grew up out in rural Berks County, town of Hamburg, population 3,100, including chickens and cows. My neighbors were almost entirely Pennsylvania Dutch.  From that perspective, I saw cities as places to be avoided at all costs.   The only encounters with Philly I had growing up were when my parents would drive down to the shore, and we’d go through Center City – this was before the Vine Street Expressway, and we still had to stop at various traffic lights to get to the Ben Franklin Bridge.   In those days the city was often blanketed by thick smog.  At traffic lights, homeless people would lurch like zombies out of the fog up to the car windows with their hands out.  Those experiences left me terrified of the city.  And now I’m pastor of a city church, and routinely tool around K&A making pickups for Sunday worship.   I’ve gone through lots of turning points, lots of learning moments, to get from where I was to where I am, and expect to go through many more before I go on to my reward.

We need to give each other space for those learning moments. All of us have blind spots, and just don’t see some things unless others point them out to us – and often the things we’re most blind to are our own fears and prejudices.  People need time to process new information, to learn and grow.   At the same time, we need to be willing to take the time and effort to speak our truth and challenge others, even when our words seemingly fall on deaf ears.  Those who don’t understand us may not change their minds on the spot, as Jesus did.  But our words may be seeds that bear fruit in the lives of others over time.  It’s these encounters that have opened the church over time first to Gentiles, to people of color, to expanded leadership roles for women, and some denominations, including our own, to the inclusion of LGBT persons.   It’s still an ongoing process.  Yesterday I was at a meeting of the executive committee of the Philadelphia Association of the UCC, the group that credentials pastors and coordinates activities for the 26 UCC congregations in the Philadelphia area.  And the question came up: what becomes of our seminarians after they go through the credentialing process and are ordained.  Most of our Philadelphia-area seminarians seeking ordination are African American women.  Outside Philadelphia, most UCC churches in southeastern Pennsylvania are predominantly white, many blindingly white. The question came up – will these African-American women be able to find a call to pastor a church?   After all, we only have I think five predominantly African American congregations in Philadelphia, and two of those congregations are on life support.  How many of our Philadelphia-area congregations would accept an African-American woman as pastor.  Or an African American man?  Or a female pastor regardless of race?  Or a gay or lesbian pastor?   Realistically, given that the person was otherwise qualified, probably about half of our Philly-area UCC congregations would accept any of the above, while some would accept some but not others – and there are still a small number that will only accept a white heterosexual male pastor.  And the UCC is among the most socially progressive denominations in the country, and the Philadelphia Association is the most welcoming group of UCC churches in our region. And yet there’s still learning that needs to happen, still work to be done.

Of course, our country has had debates about inclusion – who’s welcome, who’s not – from our founding.  In the colonial era, Germans – as in the folks who founded our congregation, though our church’s founders came during a later wave of German immigration a century later - were seen as dark-skinned, ignorant foreigners who refused to learn English…not unlike the way Hispanic people are seen by some today.  No less a personage than Benjamin Franklin despaired over the question of whether Germans would ever assimilate.  Irish, Asians, Eastern Europeans - each wave of immigration encountered resistance.  And it goes without saying that the descendants of the African Americans who were brought here as slaves are still not fully welcomed, and the American Indians who greeted the first colonists have been pushed off onto reservations….and now as minerals have been discovered, even those reservation lands are threatened. Events such as Charlottesville tell us how much we still need to learn.   As Christians, readings such as today’s Gospel should lead us on the path toward greater openness, toward building bridges, not walls.

 

“Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish!”  Though Jesus first focused on the woman’s ethnicity, he came to see her humanity and her faith.  May we likewise see the humanity of our neighbors – all of our neighbors.  May we be open to the turning points God places in our lives.  And where God leads, may we follow. Amen.

Remember Who You Are (Pastor's message, August 2017)

Dear Emanuel Members and Friends –

“Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, ‘Send everyone away from me.’ So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. Joseph said to his brothers, ‘I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?’ But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.  Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Come closer to me.’ And they came closer. He said, ‘I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt.’” Genesis 45:1-4

The reading above, our Old Testament reading for August 20, gives us a moment of reconciliation.  Joseph was one of Jacob’s many sons, and his father’s favorite.  Joseph’s brothers were jealous because of their father’s favoring of Joseph.   When Joseph was seventeen years old, his brothers sold Joseph to Ishmaelite traders, who sold Joseph to a member of Pharoah’s court.  This set into motion a series of events by which Joseph eventually came to great responsibility over the affairs of Egypt, second only to Pharoah himself.  Joseph had interpreted two dreams of Pharoah as predicting an oncoming famine, and made preparations by stockpiling grain.  Jacob and his sons were hungry because of the famine, and came to Egypt to buy grain.  And it was there at Joseph was reunited with his brothers, and later with his father Jacob.   What began with an act of hate came, after many years, to a happy ending of reunion and reconciliation.

Recent events in Charlottesville, VA remind us how far we are from reunion and reconciliation in our country.  A rally of white supremacist groups such as the Klan, various neo-Nazi groups, newer formations such as the Proud Boys, all under the heading “Unite the Right”, engaged in acts of intimidation and violence, including surrounding an interfaith church gathering the night before their rally, and numerous acts of violence against counter-protestors.   The Rev. Traci Blackmon, the Executive Minister for Justice & Witness for the United Church of Christ, was among a group of clergy who were menaced by the marchers. They came, chanting the 1930’s Nazi motto “blood and soil” along with the anti-Semitic chant “Jews will not replace us.”  Late in the day, a neo-Nazi sympathizer drove his car into a crowd of counter-protestors, killing one and injuring dozens of others.  A police helicopter monitoring the event crashed, killing two state troopers.  The groups have promised to hold similar events in other cities.

As Christians, first and foremost, we need to remember who we are and whose we are, and who we serve.  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, we 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.”   Simply put, the ideas of the Klan, neo-Nazis, and other white supremacist groups are incompatible with the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Period, end of discussion, no exceptions.  We may disagree on politics and policies, but when we deny the basic humanity of others, we deny the image of God in that person – and we deface and deny the image of God in ourselves.  When we deny the humanity of others, ultimately we deny our own humanity. 

It’s important to recognize that the hatred that broke out in Charlottesville is nothing new – though we have not seen it expressed with such violence in decades.   Like a latent virus that is dormant much of the time but breaks out when our immune system is stressed, racism in America’s national life sometimes lies seemingly dormant – though visible to those on the margins - periodically breaks out in ways that hurt and kill, but is always there.   It’s also important to remember that racism comes in many forms, both individual and systemic.  It’s easy to point at a man in a hood carrying a torch or a man wearing an armband with a swastika and say, “That’s a racist!”  But racism is enacted by people who wear hoods and carry torches, and also by people who wear suits and work on spreadsheets.   On a conference call this past Sunday night with Jewish and Christian clergy around the city, I was reminded that the same racism that drove the events in Charlottesville also influences systemic decisions around how schools are funded, around access to healthcare, around rates of incarceration, around where polluting industries operate and toxic waste is stored. Combatting such systemic racism requires efforts at a systemic level.

I’ll say it again:  in these days, as Christians, we need to remember who we are, whose we are, and who we serve.  In the 1930’s and 1940’s, during the Nazi era, most churches in Germany either openly cooperated with Hitler’s Third Reich or remained silent, quietly going about their normal activities of baptizing and confirming and marrying and burying – "church business" - while millions were murdered.  In other words, they caved. These churches had compromised or entirely abandoned their God-given identity and mission.  A small minority of German Protestant churches, who took the name of the “Confessing Church”, stood against Hitler.  They issued a statement called the Barmen Declaration which demonstrated that their rejection of Hitler was inseparably tied to their confession of faith. (Your homework assignment: read the Barmen Declaration:   http://www.ucc.org/beliefs_barmen-declaration)  The Barmen Declaration had faults – it was a product of its time, was mostly addressed to the affairs of the church, not to the wider society, and had little to say to the Jews who were being rounded up and murdered – but it was a brave stand against Hitler, nonetheless.  Signers were persecuted, and some such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer were executed – but their example inspires to this day.

Remember who you are, and whose you are.  We are followers of Jesus Christ, who ministered to Jew and Gentile alike.  Where others built walls, Jesus built bridges.  If you have children, lead them in the way of love.  Speak out against efforts to marginalize and “other-ize” people based on race, ethnicity, nationality, socio-economic status, religion, sexual  orientation, gender identity, physical or mental disability, or other personal characteristics.  Show the love of Christ in word and deed, in season and out of season.  Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.  Remember who you are.  And pray for the day when, like Joseph with his brothers, our country can experience reconciliation.

See you in church –

                         

Pastor Dave     

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.