A Sermon by The Rev. Julia Dunbar
All Saints Parish, Brookline, MA
January 15, 2012
Lectionary: 1 Samuel 3:1-20; 1 Corinthians 6:11-20; Psalm 139; John 1:43-51
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my hear, be acceptable in your sight, O God my strength and my redeemer.
Good Morning,
Today we celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King and the 2nd Sunday after Epiphany. we are in the season of Light, with renewed awareness that Jesus, the Light of the World has come to us – the light of Christ dwells within each and every one of us even on our darkest days & nights of the soul.
On a cold night last week waiting for the commuter rail, I was thinking about these readings and pondering where they might be leading me. I felt my phone buzzing in my coat pocket. I quickly pulled it out, whipped off my glove so that I could touch the screen without interference and checked the email that had arrived seconds before. It was an email from a company letting me know that candles were on Sale NOW at a greatly reduced price, but only for 12 more hours. What swift attendance I gave to that email! The message was nothing, inconsequential in fact. I slipped the phone back into my coat pocket and put my glove back on just before my fingers froze.
When I looked back up at the crowd of commuters around me, I noticed that almost every person had their heads down – were staring at their own phone screens. I suddenly pictured everyone in today's readings – the young boy Samuel, the old man Eli, Paul, the people of Corinth, the Psalmist, Philip, Andrew, Nathanael and even Jesus with their faces staring down at their phones, consumed by the messages of a condensed world. Wow I thought. It was a bit jarring for me as I recognized how present we can be to the immediacy of distraction – yet how frequently unaware we can be to life around us.
At the hospital where I work, people stream down the halls with their eyes focused downward on these little screens. I saw the unfortunate news on television the other night, showing a man at a subway stop walking right off the edge of the platform and falling onto the tracks while he was reading whatever was on his smartphone. Fortunately people around him witnessed the fall and quickly rescued him.
Don't get me wrong, my phone, like my computer is a great tool and a wonderful convenience. I rely on it, enjoy it and feel a bit discombobulated if I forget to take it with me when I go out. That night waiting for the train, I started thinking about what I miss, what we all might miss, if we habitually turn our gaze and focus away from the world around us. There are countless distractions for us to choose from daily – how many faces do I miss, how much do I inadvertently shut out when I lost in distraction? How can I recognize my neighbor or even myself?
Jesus spoke so often during his life about staying awake to God, watching with him, seeing our neighbors and loving them as he loved us. As I thought about my own cognitive dissonance on that chilly, dark night – I looked up at the sky peeking out between buildings, I saw the moon rising – and behind me the sun setting in blazing colors of orange, magenta, purples and pinks – and colors I couldn't possibly find names for. How much do I miss?
Throughout scripture, we read and hear themes about vision, light, hearing & call. In today's reading from Samuel, we find Eli, the old priest whose eyesight has grown dim; the light of the lamp of God was barely visable to him. For many of years, Eli was a devoted priest serving in the Temple of God. Over time, Eli's devotion and righteousness slacked off – God saw that Eli was no longer a holy priest. Samuel, whose name means "he who is from God" lived with Eli at the temple from the time he was a baby. He grew in goodness and wisdom. Today's reading tells the story of the night, the young boy Samuel was certain he heard Eli calling for him. Each time, Samuel heard the voice call, he ran to Eli and said "Here I am." After a few time of this, Eli realized that Samuel might be hearing the voice of God. He told Samuel that if he heard the voice again to respond with the words "Speak, Lord for your servant is listening." When Samuel heard the voice again he said responded, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening. God said, "I have told Eli that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God and he did not restrain them." God pronounced Eli and the house of Eli were condemned. Upon Eli's insistence, Samuel told him what God said. How might this story have unfolded if God, Eli and Samuel were not listening?
I wonder how many times Jesus listened to and recited Psalm 139 – "O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path….you are acquainted with all my ways." This psalm can be heard as a powerful, beautiful song of complete faith offering us deep comfort of God's ever–present attentiveness, the love of someone who knows everything there is to know about us.
Yet I think what this psalm expresses is more expansive than beauty – more profound than a God who literally watches us every second. This psalm expresses our human nature –how sometimes we want God to do things for us, we want God very close to us and our loved ones, watching over us "like a mother watching over her child", and sometimes we may have the conscious or subconscious desire to flee from such a powerful and perfect witness. "Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from you presence."
In his challenging article, "The Escape From God", Theologian Paul Tillich stated, "The poet who wrote those words to describe the futile attempt of man to escape from God certainly believed that man desires to escape God. …prophets, reformers, saints, atheists, believers and unbeliever have the experience." Tillich goes on to say "it is safe to say that one who has never tried to flee God has never experience the God Who is really God…why try to flee from a god who is nothing more than a benevolent father who guarantees our immortality and final happiness. …those are not pictures of God, but rather of man, trying to make God in his own image for his own comfort – a god whom we can easily bear, from whom we do not have to hide… a god whose destruction we never desire, is not God at all, and has no reality."
That's a lot to think about, isn't it?
My brothers & sisters, we cannot understand the true nature of God any more than we can fully comprehend infinity or count the stars or grains of sand. Sometimes we might find it terrifying and unbearable to endure God's constant witness to our every act and deed. Yet I believe when our hearts and eyes are open, in moments of true compassion and openness to one another, we can recognize or glimpse the light of God within us, within every person. It is then our eyes are open and our vision clarified. God is not only witness to us, we become living witnesses to God.
There is a passage in the John's gospel that preceeds the gospel we heard today. It is when Jesus asked the ultimate question, "What are you looking for?" In today's reading we heard Jesus's familiar words when he spoke to Phillip. "Follow me." Phillip did so and found his brother Nathanael sitting under a fig tree. The fig tree is a frequently used image in scripture that indicates comfort. Men often sat under fig trees to read the Torah. The canopy provided shade and a resting place. In this reading, Phillip urged his brother to walk with him to see Jesus of Nazareth. He excitedly asked Nathanael to go with and see Jesus the Messiah, "This is the guy!" Phillip exclaimed! "This is one everyone is talking about. Moses and prophets wrote about him in the Torah. Come on!" Reluctantly, Nathanael went with Phillip, perhaps rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" When Nathanael met Jesus, they had a brief exchange of words. After hearing a few words of recognition from Jesus, Nathaniel had an awakening. He said to Jesus, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel."
On this eve of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Day, I think about how the world was changed because he not only listened to the cries of injustice, he became the voice of justice. He not only saw the destructive and spirit–breaking nature of racism and oppression, he lived his vocation and became the leader, the father, the founder of the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. I can imagine the voices who were against Dr. King and everything he stood for shouting "Can anything good come out of Selma? Can anything good come out of Montgomery, Alabama?"
Dr. King was just a man, not a deity. He was just man who didn't have to get entangled in all the dangerous mess of confronting racism. He couldn't walk on water, but he could and did rock the boat, he rocked the nation and the world. After receiving his BA from Morehouse College he went on to study at Crozer Seminary in Pennsylvania, where he was President of his predominantly white senior class. He received distinguished honors and awards – including a prestigious fellowship to Boston University's esteemed School of Theology. With his doctorate from BU in hand, Rev. Martin Luther King could have returned to Atlanta where he was born and raised, where his college educated father and grandfather had both served as pastors of Ebenezzer Baptist Church. He could have lived a fine enough life as a talented pastor, preacher in his home-community. He certainly didn't have to go to Selma and walk on to Montgomery, Alabama! He didn't have to enter the belly of beast of racism while practicing and preaching the gospel of love, peace, freedom and non-violence – the gospel of Jesus Christ.
In other words, Dr. King didn't have to answer God's call – none of us are forced to answer. If he hadn't listened, if he hadn't recognized and taken on the system of blatant and entrenched injustice and brutal effects of racism, Martin Luther King could not have become who he was meant to be. Without recognizing the smoldering pain and suffering of his people and immersing himself on the front lines for freedom, Dr. King would not have become the man, the leader God had in mind.
Like Jesus, Dr. King challenged and shook up the status quo for the sake of humanity. He knew he was a hunted man it – but he never stopped the bloody pursuit of justice and equality until the bullets put him down. The light of his legacy remains with us; sometimes it grows dim, sometimes our vision becomes hazy. Martin Luther King, was not a God. He was man who passionately believed in God. He preached the gospel at all times, spoke from scripture and used prophetic language to teach that lasting power rests in love, unity, faith and freedom.
When we hear the words of consecration of the Eucharist, "Remember Christ lived, died and rose for you, and feed on him in hearts by faith, with thanksgiving," my soul never fails to stir. I believe that living is usually the hardest part – it is in living that we make decisions about how we will walk in this world, who we follow, who we will lead, who we will reject, judge, hurt or snub. As Dr. King said, "In the end we will not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." In death, the options are few – we are relieved of our duties, our time here on earth – we believe we will be joined in the unimagined, eternal peace of God. It's the living, the quotidian, the struggles large and small that can distract us – keep us from recognizing the light of Christ in one another. Our lamps can become dim, our vision weak, yet the light of God remains.
Dr. King said "I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear." Let us walk boldly in the light of love.