The Church of St.
Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
March 17, 2019
Year C: The Second
Sunday in Lent
Genesis 15:1-12,
17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Luke 13:31-35
The Citizens of Heaven Need to Speak Up
The
story of God and us really begins with Abram – soon to be Abraham - a faithful
man who was asked by God to leave his home and travel to an unknown new land –
a man who thought he and his wife would never have children of their own, yet
God says that his descendants will be as numerous than the stars in the night
sky.
The
story of God and us begins with God making a promise – a covenant – a contract
– with Abraham and his many descendants – a promise made in the strange story
we heard in today’s first lesson from Genesis.
It
seems that in the ancient world contracts were made by doing what we heard today:
killing animals and cutting them in half.
Then
the two parties making the agreement would “cut the deal” by walking between these
pieces, indicating the bloody consequences if either side broke the contract.
Kind
of gruesome, but it does get the point across, right?
But,
what we heard today isn’t just any regular contract between two people about
land or money.
This
is a covenant between God and God’s people.
So,
notice what happens when God makes this covenant with Abraham – only God
“walks” between the animal parts, not Abraham, because God knows very well that
Abraham and his descendants – that we - will not be able to completely keep our
end of the agreement.
We will break
God’s Law – we will turn to other gods – we will reject the prophets sent to us
– we will, from time to time, lose faith in the God who called Abraham to a new
land, to a new way.
But,
since God made a one-sided contract with God’s people, God doesn’t ever give up
on us.
No matter what,
God always keeps God’s side of the bargain.
No matter what, as
Jesus says so beautifully in today’s gospel lesson, God wants to gather us
together, hold us close, as a hen gathers her chicks.
God will not give
up on us - will not let us go, no matter
what.
And, that’s very
good news, but…it doesn’t let us off the hook.
In today’s second
lesson, St. Paul writes to the church in Philippi that their “citizenship is in
heaven.”
That’s a
surprising word to use, right? Citizenship. It would have caught the attention
of people living in the Roman Empire two thousand years ago where citizenship
or the lack of it made a big difference in people’s lives – just as citizenship
or the lack of it makes a big difference for us living in the United States
today.
And, just like
American citizenship, our heavenly citizenship comes with many benefits and
also many responsibilities, not in heaven but right here and right now.
As “heavenly
citizens” living on earth we are expected – with God’s help – to try our best
to keep our end of the deal with God – to love God and to love our neighbor –
our Jewish neighbor, our Christian neighbor, our Muslim neighbor, our Hindu
neighbor, our atheist neighbor, our neighbor who we really don’t like or trust
– we are to strive to love them all.
Unfortunately, if
you turn on the news for just a minute or two or even just walk down Bergen
Avenue, it’s clear that we’re not really doing such a great job of keeping our
contract with God, not doing such a great job of meeting the responsibilities
of our heavenly citizenship.
It’s easy to get
discouraged.
But, God doesn’t
give up on us, so we must not give up on ourselves.
As I’ve thought
about how we can respond to the difficult times we’re living in, I keep
returning to Baptism.
We Christians gain
our heavenly citizenship through Baptism – that’s our own little citizenship
ceremony – and at each Baptism we make and renew important promises, including the
promise to proclaim the Good News of Christ in what we say and what we do.
I bet that most of
us would say that deeds are more difficult and more important than words. Just
think of the expressions we use:
“Words are cheap.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
We criticize
people who are “all talk and no action.”
There’s truth to
all of that – and if you’ve been here more than ten minutes you know very well
that I’m very much about doing – I’m always trying to get us to do more
- to serve more people – and that’s not going to change – but I think,
especially these days, words are at least as important – and at least as
difficult – as deeds.
I began writing
today’s sermon on Friday morning after the news broke of the terrorist massacre
in New Zealand where, as you know, yet another angry and armed man opened fire on
worshipers – in this case attacking two mosques – killing 50 people and
injuring some 20 more.
This time it was
New Zealand and mosques, while not long ago it was a synagogue in Pittsburgh
and an African-American church in Charleston.
One of the things
that these horrific incidents have in common is that before the unspeakable
violence there were words – ugly words and hateful words and fearful
words - words that in a civilized society should have been unthinkable and
definitely unspeakable – but in the cesspools of the Internet and among hateful
extremists here and abroad – and, yes, among politicians who know better but
cynically stir up hate to win applause and votes – the unthinkable and the
unspeakable are thought and spoken more and more.
It can be a really
short trip from word to deed, so, no surprise, there are some twisted men who
put these ugly words into terrible action.
I know most of
would rather not – I know most of us would rather look away - but I don’t think
anything is going to change – and, actually, things are likely to get much
worse - unless we heavenly citizens start to speak up.
If we’re scared,
we have one another and we know we have a God who always keeps promises.
But, it’s time –
it’s long past time - for us to use our words – beautiful words and
loving words and courageous words.
After all, as the
theologian I live with reminded me, in the beginning was the Word.
So, we’re called
to speak up about what we experience right here in our beautiful church.
We’re not perfect
by any means and we’re not always as welcoming to people who are a little
different – who rub us the wrong way – who don’t fit into our little church
cliques – but, for the most part, this diverse group of heavenly citizens gets
along pretty well, proving that it really is possible for us to love one
another, despite our many differences.
We’re called to
speak up – and now I’m talking especially to my white brothers and sisters – we
are called to speak up when we hear people spewing racist and hateful garbage –
this could be among our own families and friends or at work or school or on
social media – but we are called to speak up and say this is wrong and this is
disgusting and this is most definitely not the way of God and I want no part of
it.
We’re called to speak
up in our communities – to speak up with other people of goodwill.
After the massacre
at the synagogue in Pittsburgh, I was asked to speak at the rally held down at
City Hall, representing the Christian community.
I really felt the
weight of this huge responsibility.
I speak in public often
enough so I don’t usually get too nervous – but I was very anxious that day – worried
that I wasn’t eloquent enough or wise enough - worried that my words wouldn’t
be right for this somber occasion – worried that I would say the wrong thing
and accidentally do more harm than good.
I agonized over
every word in my speech. In the end, I think it went OK but the truth is all I
really had to say was this:
Hating certain groups of people and
slaughtering innocents is never the way of God.
It’s really as
simple as that. But it’s not enough just to think it or to believe it. We have
to say it, too.
The story of God
and us – the story of the divine hen and her human chicks - begins long ago with
God making a covenant – a one-sided contract promising to never give up on us,
to never let go of us, no matter what.
We are so blessed
– but we are not let off the hook.
And today in our
broken and angry and heavily armed world, as heavenly citizens it is our
responsibility to use both our words and our deeds to love God and to love our
neighbor, all of our neighbors.
May it be so.