"I am about to do a new thing"

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The first lesson this morning is from the prophet Isaiah. It’s a long book of 66 chapters whose content covers more than a generation of history and material. Biblical scholars have identified four different writing styles, and, given the time span of information covered, have concluded that the book must be the work of four authors whose works have been compiled into one book.

This is not an unusual practice. The authors, using the primary Isaiah as their inspiration, see their works as a continuation of his. In other words, their writing conveys what they believe Isaiah would have said if he was in their situation. The book of Isaiah is the largest of the books called “Major Prophets” in the Old Testament and was written in the years leading up to the sacking of Jerusalem, the beginning of the Babylonian Exile and well into the sixty year period.

In both Jewish and Christian traditions, the Book of Isaiah serves as part of the foundation for the hope and expectation of the Messiah. In our Christian tradition, we hear lessons from Isaiah particularly during the Seasons of Advent and Lent. Both these seasons highlight the aspects of expectation of God’s action in the world. Advent highlights the expectation of the coming of the Messiah into the world, and Lent highlights the expectation of the resurrection.

In the season of Advent we read a passage from Isaiah that is very famous. Here it is: “A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” It’s a directive to the people of Israel to get ready, to clean house, to prepare for God’s arrival. Prepare personally and prepare as a society. But prepare. That directive is in the 40th Chapter of Isaiah.

Our lesson this morning is from the 43rd Chapter of Isaiah. Listen again and see how these lines compare with those from just a few chapters earlier. “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing, now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert....” I will make a way in the wilderness.

The message that comes through time and again in the Bible is that when we are unable to make a way to God, God will make a way to us. Similar to last week’s story of the Prodigal son, the son makes an effort, but the Father rushes out to embrace him and welcomes him in a much larger way than the son could eve have imagined.

Isaiah makes this theme within the context of a few chapters. It’s good for us to work on the way to God, on preparing and making it clear; but in the end, it is God who makes the way to us. Jesus refers to himself in the Gospels as The Way, the Life and the Truth. In Jesus, God makes a way to us. We know God better because of, and through, Jesus.

Since we’re observing Women’s history month, I’ll use an example from the history of women in the Episcopal Church. Comedian Robin Williams, who is an Episcopalian, drew up a top ten list of reasons to be an Episcopalian. I’m just going to give you one, you can google the rest. Number eight on the list is this: Male and female God created them; male and female we ordain them.

But it wasn’t always that way. Women weren’t allowed to be Vestry members until the 1950’s. The subject of women priests (and no one even breathed about women bishops), came up strong in the 1970’s culminating in the “illegal” ordination of the notorious Philadelphia Eleven in 1976 by “renegade, activist Bishops”. These eleven women were ordained outside the parameters of General Convention and it formed a delicious controversy for many years, some echoes of which still linger. But it also served to break the impasse in the debate and paved the way for General Convention to legislate the ordination of women in the Episcopal Church. Many priests and parishes threatened to leave, some did, and the world continued to turn. But justice was served. In one sense quickly, given the progress from vestry to priesthood in 20 years. But in a larger sense much too slowly, since the whole gender issue of equality was absurdly late in being raised.

The Episcopal Church struggled to make a way in the wilderness and made some noble efforts. But in looking back historically and spiritually, it definitely looks like the Spirit of God moving those who wanted to do what was right and guided the Church into the way of justice. It’s a slow process still, since some dioceses in this country still refuse to ordain women, but even their numbers are dwindling. Globally, the rights of women are shockingly absent and this includes among the Anglican churches for whom women priests are a long way off. But inevitably justice will happen, people will try to make a way into it, and God will do the rest. Love and Justice are of God, and God will not be blocked.

In the Gospel lesson, Jesus is at the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus. They were clearly good friends since this is the third story that includes them. It also takes place the week before Jesus’ final entry into Jerusalem and his crucifixion. There is an ominous tone to this story about the use of expensive oil. Judas takes the posture that it’s a wasteful luxury. The wider context is that Jesus is being prepared for death and burial, although most don’t realize this.

Mary is the member of the family who seems most spiritually attuned. Her actions demonstrate faith, sacrifice and humility. Presumably she bought the ointment in the first place. And in the previous story regarding this family, Jesus raised the brother Lazarus from the dead. So it’s likely that in gratitude, no expense was too much to show appreciation. And Mary acted out of instinct and love. She was making a way to Jesus, even though she may not have realized the full import of those actions. And later that week, God would be making the ultimate way to humanity through his actions.

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul gives a lesson in humility. He lists his very impressive resume for the church in Philippi. He was born in the right family, attended the best schools, held high positions in the synagogue and society -implying that it was higher than theirs - and clearly told them that all that means nothing at the end of the day. He says, “I regard all that as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him...”

We can let ourselves get in the way that we try to prepare for God. Our own resumes or backgrounds or accomplishments can be very beneficial in terms of the service that we offer. Like Mary, offer to God our best. But those same aspects of ourselves can get in our way if we treat them as measuring sticks as to why we are better than others or deserve more. That can also work in reverse. Because of disadvantages, setbacks or past hurts, we may feel deserving of better. That also might get in our way. Anything that blocks us from working in God’s service to bring mercy and justice to God’s people works against us.

It’s the humility demonstrated by Mary and Paul in our lessons today that begin the way to God. God’s love comes to us regardless of the resume. Each of them defied the expectations and stations of their worlds to get to know Jesus better. They knew that their worth and esteem was rooted in God’s love more than anything else.

Jesus says something at the end of the lesson that has often been misused. He says, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” This line has often been misused throughout history to justify callous behavior toward the cash and materially poor. But given the way the Gospels use words, the “poor” Jesus may be referring to, might very well be those who are poor in spirit, those who don’t know how to put aside the resume. That is, those who let them get in their way to God or God’s service.

Paul certainly used his credentials when it served his purpose. He claimed his Roman citizenship quite boldly and prominently when it was able to further his mission. He didn’t count it as rubbish then. But only when he used it as a measuring stick of his worth.

Regardless of our credentials, resumes and holdings, our value and worth before God is in our humanity alone. Accepting that calls out the humility in us and begins to prepare the way of God. Even as we start on the way, we come to see clearer as time goes on that God has already cleared the way for us. “I am about to do something new, “ Isaiah tells us God says, “Do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Whether out in the world or deep within us, those place that are tangled or parched have hope. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Reconciliation

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Paul wrote to the Corinthians “...We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” It’s a heartfelt plea from someone who cared very much for them. He told them, “We have been given a ministry of reconciliation.”

Ah, but there’s a catch. Before we can embark on this wonderful ministry of reconciliation, we must first be reconciled ourselves. That was the Corinthians’ problem. They were so convinced of their own sacred status that they had fallen into a less than perfect lifestyle of proving themselves holier than the next member of their community. They were exclusionary, judgmental, elitist, and mean to one another. Paul, needless to say, was disappointed in them and wrote this letter to correct their behaviors.

Each of these readings refer to some who reached for something better and run into problems because either they weren’t ready or didn’t know what they were getting into.

In the lesson from Joshua, the Israelites had finally gotten into the Promised Land after wandering in the desert for forty years. By that point Moses has died and Joshua had taken his place in leadership. The painful memories of slavery in Egypt could recede as well as the long period of searching. Their new life was about to begin. The promised land they had worked so hard to enter was theirs. Or was it?

It seems the Promised Land was not delivered empty. It was a country that had been inhabited for many generations by people who were not convinced by Hebrew stories of God making a promise to a man they didn’t know who was long dead. The land that had been promised to the Israelites was inhabited by the Canaanites, and they had no intention of leaving. Some kind of accommodation needed to be made, some kind of peace and reconciliation between two peoples who inherited the land.

The Prodigal Son as we know it, is that famous parable of a young mans’ dreams of the good life and his impatient acts to get it. He blundered his way through reckless waste in the hope of finding his own promised land. He lost everything and hit bottom. The realization of his own foolishness sobered him up and he returned to his father’s house to face the consequences.

In each of these stories, as different as they are, there is the theme of reconciliation uniting them. The people of Israel had dreamed about the Promised land for such a long time that it became romanticized as the land flowing with milk and honey. Everything would be wonderful, very much a utopia. The younger son of the parable also hoped for a utopia. A young man with a windfall of new money sees the world as his oyster. Each were in for a rude awakening.

When we put the story from Joshua and the Gospel lesson side by side, the two peoples of Israel and Canaan could be compared with the two sons. The Canaanites stayed in the land while the Israelites left the land so long before for a better life, which they enjoyed for a while. That is, several generations before it all went bad and they became slaves in Egypt. Beaten down they came back home. The Canaanites, like the older brother in the parable were not happy about their return. As far as they were concerned all the land was theirs. They didn’t want to hear about any promise made to a hundred year old man a few hundred years ago, by a god they didn’t recognize. The tensions between the two groups festered for many years without being fully resolved. There was no parent to mediate as there is in the Gospel lesson.

One of the ways we can read Bible stories is to put ourselves in the place of one or more of the characters. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, who do you identify with, given some of the issues in your life? The younger son who wanted to get away from the world he knew and stretch his legs to find his promised land? The older son who remains responsible and stays at the work and then resents the return of the younger son? The parent who mediates the factions? Or the fatted calf who feels like an innocent bystander caught up in a family drama that’s not going to end well for him no matter who celebrates?

Reconciliation isn’t easy. Reconciliation with ourselves, reconciliation with others and reconciliation with God. I’ve always liked the phrase in the parable that says of the younger son in the pit of his remorse: when he came to himself... There was in him a moment of awakening when he realized his mistakes and wanted to turn around. He was fully spent in the pursuits of false dreams and the consequences of his actions reach a point of such pain that he could no longer stand it. He had to admit first to himself what he did that was wrong and then admit it to the person he wronged, in this case his father. When “he came to himself” he found the integrity in his spirit that had left him for a while during his misadventure. But he found it and tried to make things right again. He grew up. He was reconciled to himself first and then worked on being reconciled with his father. By the end of the story he found peace and a reconciliation he never thought possible. Oddly, the older brother has not shared in the reconciliation, with himself, his brother or his father. He remains judgmental, angry and separated from the festivities. Until he realizes these defects in himself, until he’s reconciled to himself, he can’t be reconciled with anyone else. In this sense, he too is a prodigal son who has left and we hope returned, though the parable doesn’t say one way or the other.

In the stories of Lent, we’re given different lenses to look at ourselves and our relationships. Where have we made mistakes that we need to admit and be reconciled with ourselves? Where do we have the work to do of being reconciled with those we have harmed? Where have we stood in judgment of those trying to make amends, feeling self righteous or angry? I sometimes wonder if the older son was really envious of his younger brother for being more daring than he and risking big, even if it did blow up in his face? Regardless, there are times when we’ve all stood in those shoes as well. Even the older brother needed to “come to himself” and admit his wrongs to be reconciled with himself, in order to be reconciled to his family.

The gospel lesson begins with the tax collectors and sinners (other translations read prostitutes) listening to Jesus; while the Pharisees observed this grumbling in judgment. These groups also like the younger and older sons were in need of reconciliation with themselves and each other. The father was delighted at the return of the younger son and all was clearly forgiven. God takes pleasure in reconciliation, not punishment. People get caught up in wanting punishment. In this parable Jesus sets up a paradigm of radical forgiveness in a way that people, through the eyes of the older brother think is unjust. Yet how wonderful it is to know that’s how God is.

Think about this parable in the days ahead and consider the brothers and how you relate to them. Or as Paul says, “God...has given us a ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them...so we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Believing in God's Promise

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

The first lesson today from Genesis tells an old story. Not quite in the beginning, but close to it. The central figure in this story is Abram. Shortly after this story his name would be changed and he would come to be known as Abraham. But at this point, he’s still Abram. Genesis has described several conversations between God and Abram up to this point, and in each one God has promised Abram that he would make a great nation of his descendants. Apparently Abram was getting tired of this promise since both he and the reader at this point are aware that Abram is in his late seventies and his wife Sarai is not far behind in years and they had no children.

God seems oblivious to this fact as the promises continue, but Abram is annoyed. Finally Abram calls out and says “What will you give me, because I am childless and the only heir I have is my servant Eliezer.” But then an amazing sight is described that is in fact a ritual of covenant between God and Abram. In the offering of animals and the mysterious appearance of a smoking pot that passes between them, a deal is made. God formalizes the promise and just beyond the lesson we read, a prediction is made that foretells the descendants of Abram leaving that land, being enslaved in Egypt and then returning. The deal God made with Abram was the promise of the land that would become the nation of Israel.

All of this because Abram was a righteous man, and God likes righteous people. Righteousness involves to trusting, and often waiting. By the end of his life, Abram had two sons, one by his wife’s servant Hagar named Ishmael, and one by his wife Sarah named Isaac. But he had faith that out of these children a mighty nation would come. He had this faith, because God had promised.

God’s promise is a theme that runs through the Bible constantly. Another theme is the difficulty people have in believing it, or at least having the patience to see them come to pass. In the Gospel lesson another promise is alluded to. Jesus responds to the Pharisees who warn him about Herod’s threats by invoking the words “third day”. Those words used in the body of the Gospels foreshadow the resurrection on the third day and the promise of God made to all believers through the resurrection.

The Bible is a book written many years after the stories they describe and the writers include elements of foreshadow to tie the themes together for the readers and show how God’s promises eventually come to pass. What distinguishes a righteous from an unrighteous person is the one who holds onto the faith in the promise and the one who doesn’t. The one who lives into the promise and the one who acts as though it doesn’t exist.

One of the strengths of the themes in these stories, the tireless patience of the writers, and the examples of the righteous people they depict, is that any reader can identify with them in their own difficulties and despite apparent obstacles, believe that God’s promise will come true and always comes true.

During this February observance of Black History month among other events and activities, there have been pictures on the bulletin covers of contemporary African American religious leaders. On the cover today is a picture of The Rev. Peter Gomes, professor of Christian Morals at Harvard University and Chaplain of Harvard’s Memorial Church. He’s an American Baptist minister and among his many books is one that became a best seller in 1996 called The Good Book. In it he describes how the Bible has been used as a weapon throughout history against Jews, women, homosexuals and usually any kind of change and progressive justice. His new book, called The Scandalous Gospel is a discussion of the radical nature of the Christian faith that most contemporary Christians would find, well, scandalous. He argues that true Christian values have been left behind and replaced with harsh, judgmental, narrowly focused and self serving ideologies. Actual Christian love, as Jesus lived and taught it, is far more inclusive and caring than today’s Christians would recognize.

As a man of faith, a gay man, an African-American man, a professor and prophetic voice in America and the world today, Rev. Gomes also speaks of the promise of God, it’s obstacles in societies, and yet its endurance and ultimate victory.

It’s hard to tell people to wait. It’s harder to be a person who does wait. The people in Haiti must wait. Their ordeal will end, but not for a long time. Now the people of Chile, as well as the people of the Middle East and Africa, and even in America. The promise of God reaches individuals and nations, but sometimes it seems excruciatingly slow or at worst forgotten.

One of the major tensions for us to balance what must wait with what can change now. Sometimes being told to wait is simply an effort to put off changing what is wrong. Dr. King’s famous statement that justice delayed is justice denied argues against the obstacle of waiting. How long were African Americans told to wait, that “now is not the right time”. Similar statements are being made today with marriage equality and even health care. In the end, waiting and stalling are not the same and we need to be careful about mistaking one for the other.

Jesus refers to prophets being killed in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is an important image since it is the capital of Israel, the very heart of the country, and the tangible symbol of God’s true promise to make them a nation. And yet in the midst of this promise, suffering and division has always been present. There is bitter grief in Jesus saying how he would gather them all like a hen gathers her chick if they would but listen.

How many problems and issues in the world that bring suffering would be solved if people would listen to the love of God and extend that loving hand. How simple it seems for the love of God to gather people, and yet we would not.

The collect we opened the service with for this second Sunday of Lent asks God to “...be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ, your son.”

It’s easy to get overwhelmed with need and injustice in the world. It’s easy to walk away and say nothing can be done. But at the very least, awareness is something. Awareness leads to prayer and prayer leads to action. When we are called in extraordinary circumstances to show God’s love, we do. The generosity and outpouring of prayer and goodwill flows to various people in times of need. Our challenge is to embrace people in the ordinary times as well. We’ve demonstrated this many times in responding to disaster relief, to homelessness, and to people in need in our own parish. It’s all part of the unfolding promise of God.

But the promise of God does not only flow out to others. The promise of God is to us too. Abram was a simple man who heard the promise of God in a vision and believed it. He didn’t see its fullness, but his faith in it determined how he lived his life. He did not live as someone who felt beaten and betrayed by a promise not kept, but as someone who lives in the expectation and joy of a promise not yet fulfilled.

How each of us approaches our lives is really up to us. We can live in dread of inevitable disaster, or in optimistic hope of inevitable victory. The Scandal of the Gospel, found in the Good Book is a profound belief in the promise of God and the unshakable quest to embrace it. The promise of Jesus is a life of fullness and eternal life.

God showed Abram the sky and told him to count the stars if he could. That same number would be the number of his descendants. For a seventy something year old man without any children, that must have seemed pretty far fetched. But he believed even when the promise seemed absurd. And it filled his life with joy and expectation. God’s promise of love, inclusion and justice sometimes seems equally far reaching and absurd, and yet it’s what informs our lives. We can live in the joy and expectation of God’s promise unfolding. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Lent

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Our service today is vastly different from the one we had last week. For those who were not here last week, we broke from our traditional liturgy and had a Mardi Gras feel. Richard Berggren and some of his musical associates put together a jazz ensemble and arranged hymns, service music and anthems with toe tapping energy. Vanessa Aiken, who has provided us with beautiful liturgical dancing several times in the past, shared her gifts again with us from the opening song “When the Saints Com Marching In” as she danced down the aisle to various other pieces during the service. Dean Kravitz played jazz arrangements of hymns during Communion, and one of my friends named Kenny Ford, who sang an anthem at my 25th anniversary service last month, was invited to return, to sing another one.

Mary Davis was invited back to preach for us and did her usual outstanding work. And then the coffee hour afterward. “Coffee Hour” is a rather humble name for the feast that was prepared by the Absalom Jones Committee. The mood was high and the music wonderful. All in all, my Lord what a morning.

Today’s service couldn’t be more different in style. We have entered into the season of Lent the past Wednesday, Ash Wednesday. It’s far more somber and serious. Mardi Gras all over the world are a last hurrah for the faithful who enter this wonderful season of Lent. For many, Mardi Gras is just one more party, but to Christians it’s a joyous conclusion to the Christmas season and a transition to a time of preparation for the Easter season. The church also goes from celebration to celebration, but we divide them with seasons that help us to get ready. In this case, Lent is the season that prepares us for Easter. It’s a time to slow down and think about the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross and the promise of resurrection made on that first Easter day.

Well, slowing down is the first problem. Who can do that? Our fast paced world and culture of exhaustion have no intention of slowing down. If anything, the pressure is always there to move faster. And we do move faster to the point where we begin to think that exhaustion is normal. We’ve lost the skill of slowing down. After our most recent snow storm I heard so many people talk about how wonderful it was to be home form school or work, only to be bored by day's end not being able to get out and about as usual.

We don’t know how to slow down and we come face to face with the realization that even taking things slow is a skill that needs to be developed. The season of Lent is a silent appeal to do just that. Develop the skill of slowing down. Do this by increasing the time we spend in prayer or meditation. (I’ll take a moment to brag about the Confirmation Class. When we start the year with new students the first thing I do with them after the preliminaries is to teach them to meditate. They look at me in the way Middle School youth look at adults when they’re sure we’ve lost our minds. We begin with an explanation of what meditation is, a time to still the wild random thoughts and become centered. I time them and say we’ll go as long as we can before someone starts giggling. The first class is usually about 8 seconds. But over the weeks and months we’ve gotten up as high as 10 minutes. For ten youth, that’s pretty good.) It’s a skill I encourage everyone to work on.

Lent is also a time of self reflection. Each of us has things in our lives that we are embarrassed, sorry, or even ashamed about. There are things we would like to improve. One of the consequences of meditation is that these things generally rise to the surface of our consciousness demanding attention. People generally have ways to cope with these invasions to our consciousness - we stay busy, turn on the TV or music or just keep talking. Silence is often threatening because it means that what we don’t want to look at is right there in front of us. While we can certainly address these things all year long, Lent is a time to give particular attention to the practice of silence, allowing these thoughts to emerge and deal with them sacramentally. “Confession” is a word that strikes fear in the hearts of many who grew up under a stricter model than the Episcopal Church offers. We have the General Confession as part of our weekly service, but we also have private confessions available by appointment. This comes as a surprise to many, but I assure you it’s true. We don’t use little booths for confession, we hold them in more comfortable manner, such as in an office. Still, confession and pastoral conversations are ways to address some of the issues that surface during our meditations, issues that can reach anywhere from slight embarrassment to perhaps making us feel unloved or unworthy of the love of God. And sometimes the issues are not of a negative nature, but calls of discernment. Sometimes there are goals or projects or even life changes that are exciting and scary and silence brings them up too.

I encourage you to take advantage of this Lent to slow down, meditate and pray, and seek the pastoral conversation of your clergy or even a close friend. If you would like to discuss confession, Chris and I will be happy to do so.

The seriousness of the tone of today’s service is intentional to convey the seriousness of the work that self reflection is. It’s not intended to accuse or punish, but identify and heal. Too long has the church taken on the role of punisher and not enough time as healer. Much of the ministry in St. George’s is focused on healing and the opportunity for prayer, meditation, confession, and pastoral conversation are forms of it.

In the Gospel lesson, Jesus is in the desert. The story takes place right at the beginning of his ministry after he was baptized by John in the Jordan River. Through Baptism and the words heard form heaven by God calling him his beloved son in whom he was well pleased, Jesus takes a time of silence for forty days. What wells up in him are the temptations to abuse his newly formed ministry. For personal gain, power, or aggrandizement. He could have had it all. But it would have been at the sacrifice of his mission to bring the people of God back into relationship with God. Through his prayer and mediation he confronted each of the temptations and stayed true to his call. I always remark on the closing line of this passage, “When the Devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.” Temptations don’t go away, they wait for an opportune time. Even for Jesus.

As part of Black History Month, the Absalom Jones Committee has been sponsoring a film series on Friday nights. This coming Friday the movie is “Crash,” an amazing story that addresses many shades of racism and prejudice. It will be followed up on Sunday with a discussion forum highlighting some of the themes raised in the movie. This past Friday we watched “Pray the Devil Back to Hell.” It’s a documentary about the Women’s Peace Movement in Liberia that led to the exile of President Charles Taylor. It’s a stunning example of a leader who succumbs to each of the temptations Jesus faced in the desert, and turned an opportunity to serve his country into a nightmare of unspeakable cruelty and terror. It is an equally stunning example of the power of prayer and a commitment to peace to overcome it. The women in Liberia and eventually Ghana were fed up, and refused to tolerate the abuses they received – the killings, rapes, looting and continual terror and deprivation they were subjected to as a nation and gathered in prayer and grew in numbers and influence until they forced concessions that led to peace. They were not interested in satisfying greed, a need for power or grandiosity. They wanted peace for the country and safety for their children and themselves. One of the moving interviews was of a woman who told how hard it was to forgive the soldiers who acted so cruelly. But she came to the conclusion that despite how difficult it was, it was necessary if she and the country were to heal. That is an example of praying the Devil back to hell.

The three temptations Jesus faced in the desert are fundamentally the same that anyone faces. Material things, power or control, or manipulating how we are seen or treated by others. There’s not much new under the sun, and there’s no such thing as an original sin, it’s all been done before. But the temptations to do things, and the actual acting out and doing things that harm others or ourselves are very real.

The traditions we bring back today, specifically the singing of the Great Litany and the choice of hymns and other music, stand in stark contrast to the high celebration of last week. Joy can be very surface and actually a mask for what lay beneath. Taking the time to do some soul searching and soul finding, gives reason for real celebration. It’s definitely fun to have a party, but a real celebration comes after a journey. A journey in which obstacles have been overcome, growth has happened and healing has occurred. I invite you to take Lent seriously and see it not as an antiquated season of the Church year, but an opportunity for real growth and healing. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

Going Deeper

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Last week we read lessons of the call of Jeremiah, and the early start of Jesus’ ministry. The lessons this week continue the themes of God’s call, this time to Isaiah and Jesus’ call to Peter and Andrew.

The first lesson from the book of Isaiah is a very familiar one to priests. It’s a favorite lesson to be read at ordinations and I guarantee that all you have to do to bring a smile to any priest is say the opening line of the 6th chapter of Isaiah, “In the year that King Uzziah died....”

Because what unfolds is the wonderful vision of Isaiah of God’s heavenly throne, the ambivalence of Isaiah about his worthiness to preach, his acceptance of the call when God asks, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And Isaiah says, “Here am I, send me.”

It’s a powerful lesson and in the ordination services it concludes there with the heartwarming conviction of the new prophet to bring God’s word to the people. For new priests this vision and conviction is a powerful inspiration.

And while the ordination lesson ends with Isaiah accepting the call, our lesson today does not. I must say it’s a very strange message that Isaiah is to deliver. “Keep listening but do not comprehend, keep looking, but do not understand. Make the mind of this people dull and stop their ears, so that they many not ... turn and be healed.”

As though that were not bad enough, it gets worse. Isaiah wants to know how long this is supposed to go on and God tells him, O not long, only until “the cities lie in waste without inhabitant...and the land is utterly desolate.”

Well, that’s not a message I’d like to bring! Remember last week, I was wondering what I might say up here that might get me in the same predicament that Jesus got in with his first sermon; the one for which his shocked congregation wanted to throw him over the cliff. That might do it. That, or as I learned, making fun of the Super Bowl. There are some things we get very touchy about. And the next thing you know, it’s over the cliff with you.

Well, before we get too bothered by Isaiah’s message and God’s seeming lack of concern for the people, there is a bit of Hebrew theology I would hasten to remind us all about. And a hint about Bible study. The words were all written well after the fact. They are not transcripts of actual conversations. They were written in a way that interprets history. By the time the book of Isaiah was written many battles and wars had been fought. The land became desolate and without inhabitants. Isaiah’s warning’s had, in fact, fallen upon deaf ears at important times. He was part of the King’s inner circle of advisers, but the King didn’t always listen, and he made some tragic decisions.

By the time the book was written, it definitely seemed as though the people heard Isaiah, but didn’t comprehend; and looked, but didn’t understand. They ears were stopped, and their eyes were shut, and they did not turn.

The key to the passage we read this morning is in the last phrase, talking about a stump that remains after the tree is felled. The phrase is this: The holy seed is its stump. The seed is hope in the time of desolation. When willful people get into trouble, whether individually or as a nation, there is always a seed of hope that remains. In the midst of the turmoil of his day, Isaiah planted that seed, and his words gave comfort not only to the original people of Israel that heard it, but every generation that’s heard it since.

The people of Haiti have experienced desolation beyond description, and their major city is not inhabited as it was just a few weeks ago. There is a lot of hope they can cling to with the international aid they are getting and there is always hope that this crisis will inspire necessary changes in their government and the way they do business. Our own economic crisis has caused desolation in the financial topography of this country and the ripple effects felt around the world. Ears that were stopped, eyes that were shut; and the open question with all our crisis, “How long, O Lord?”

In the New Testament stories about Jesus’ healing, the word “Immediately” is often used. That word is not used in the stories of the Old Testament where healing takes a long time. Seeds take a while to grow. And the seeds of hope that are planted in our current crisis will grow, but not quickly. It’s an unpopular message, but one that still needs to get out there. “Whom shall God send, and who will go for us?”

In the Gospel lesson, Jesus meets Peter and Andrew for the first time and invites them to join him. In a fairly comical image, the carpenter is telling the fishermen how to do their work. “Go out a little further, you’ll be fine.” Of course, they do and like fish, Peter and Andrew are hooked. And this story becomes a parable for making disciples, for being fishers of people.

The key to this story, I think, is in Jesus’ direction for them to go deeper. In the language of story, Peter and Andrew had to follow the directions of someone they didn’t know and be willing to try something different. They needed to move away from the relative security of being close to shore and let down their nets deeper than they had before. They were amazed at the results.

This story becomes a model for us about how we get out any message about God. Believing Jesus, whether we know him well or not, moving away from that which is comfortable and being willing to go deeper. Peter and Andrew were transformed by this event, and so were those who eventually listened to them.

When we follow this model we can be amazed. Going deeper involves going into deeper truths. Sometimes gently, sometimes persistently, going deeper enters the place where hidden hurts, fears and anger live. It’s the place that is often too painful to recall or visit, but often the place that needs the most healing. It’s in the deepest parts of our being that we meet Jesus and where the healing we so desperately need can occur.

We have healing prayers as part of this service as well as the Wednesday night services. For those who want to go deeper, they can share with the intercessor a deep cause of pain or concern. Whether it’s physical, spiritual or emotional the very act of bringing to the surface that which is deepest in our troubled spirits and verbalizing it to another person for the purpose of prayer, is itself a healing action. Once our concerns are in the form of prayer a seed is planted that will grow into hope and healing.

It means leaving behind the safety of a familiar shore. Silence is for many a familiar shore, or hiding or subtle lying, or denial. Jesus invites us to leave the familiar shore and drop the net deeper. That’s where the real work is and the real opportunity for growth and health. The value of these biblical stories is in the spiritual truths we can gather from them and apply to our lives and circumstances.

February is Black History month. Our parish has a group called the Absalom Jones Committee (named for the first African American priest in the Episcopal Church), and this group has planned several events during the course of the month which are listed in the bulletin. Racial divisions in this country and around the world remain a painful and persistent illness in our human psyche and every day experience. Part of the value of having a month set aside for Black History is to drop the net of our attention deeper into the experiences of our African and African American brothers and sisters and those of European background as well. Racism is an illness that impacts people of color but truly infects white people around the world. For just as a history of oppression needs to be told by those who have felt its dehumanizing pain, there is a similar history of those whose inhuman actions have caused another form of spiritual disease. Slaves and slave masters were both dehumanized by the scourge of slavery. Prejudice today injures the targets of it as well as those who perpetrate acts of prejudice. Telling the stories of history raises to the surface the pain that needs to be told, and allow the healing to happen. Pretending racism and prejudice doesn’t exist is a form of denial that actually perpetuates it.

But it’s also a time of pride in telling stories of accomplishment that have not been widely told. There is a rich history of diversity that is not shared very well and dropping the net deeper catches some of those wonderful moments in history, and some of the wonderful things happening today.

As the month goes on and the events and forums happen, it’s our hope that as brothers and sisters in this community we can hear each others stories, reflect on the depth of pain and the possibility of healing. And also share joy in the stories of triumph and accomplishment. We can push out from the safety of familiar shores and drop the net deep into the waters of truth. We can do this because Jesus has invited us to do so.

Healing is transforming and it fans out from the one healed to the ones who need healing who will be drawn to it. The disciples discovered this, and so did the people of Israel so many years ago who first heard Isaiah plant his seed of hope. The healing of racism will not be immediate, but with God’s help the tree of righteousness will grow. The crisis that we face in our world and in our lives will not heal immediately, but with God’s help the healing that we need will grow. It’s so important that we embrace the truth of God’s invitation and whether we feel we’re worthy or not, realize that God calls us as we are to share in this work. To embrace and to share the love of God. Whom shall we send, and who will go for us. Here am I, send me. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

"Before I formed you in the womb, I appointed you."

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

Jeremiah tried to get out of it. The word of the Lord came to him quite clearly and gave him a vision of the ministry to which he had been called. Not only called, but created for. "Before I formed you in the womb, I appointed you a prophet to the nations..." It was really a foregone conclusion, but Jeremiah did give it his best shot. "Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak for I am only a boy."

God wasn’t falling for that and had no intention of letting Jeremiah off the hook. "To whom I send you, you will go." And he went, and did what he was made to do. Jeremiah had a difficult ministry of being a prophet. He had to say many unpopular things and often got into trouble for holding the leadership of his day accountable for the problems they were facing. He would chastise the leaders, sometimes the people, but when things got really bad, he would give them hope as well.

During the State of the Union address by the President last Wednesday, there was a bit of the Jeremiah story being acted out. Many of the struggles we’re having today in terms of the economy and wars were long in the making, and there is collective responsibility for a generation of bad decisions. But in the address there were bold statements aimed at clearing up the smoke and mirrors of blame and inaction. At this point blame for the past serves no purpose, but direction and responsibility will serve us well.

For those of Jeremiah’s time, the leaders and people did not heed his words and suffered an even greater fate. When even the worst of his warnings came to pass, Jeremiah changed to words of hope. Prophets do not only give predictions of doom, they give words of inspiration and hope and in the times of deepest pain. They remind us that God is still near, and that despite the messes we can get ourselves into, the love of God, finding root in our hearts and actions can bring a turn around.

I’ve often heard it said that if you’re feeling down about your struggles and get stuck in self pitying, help another person. It’s the best medicine for anger or depression. Perhaps that’s why the world has responded so quickly and generously to the people of Haiti. No prophet could have predicted that earthquake, but it is a prophetic voice which rallies hope. The world has shown an amazing degree of compassion and good will. Similar to that shown when the Tsunami hit or when the Twin Towers fell, or Hurricane Katrina destroyed so much. The voice of the prophet says we will not be defeated, and that with God’s help we will be restored.

That’s what happened to the people of Israel. That’s what is happening to the places around the world in their periods of devastation. It won’t happen quickly, but it will happen.

Jeremiah did the work he was called to do. He didn’t choose it, but he accepted it because he was uniquely able to give the message he gave.

I often admire, if not envy Jeremiah in this passage. I do not envy the task he was given, mind you. I envy the clarity with which he received his call. It would be very nice to hear God’s voice clearly tell me what I was formed in the womb to do. At some times in my life it’s felt like I was stumbling in the dark, making decisions and second guessing them almost immediately. In hindsight they seemed to be just the right ones - mostly. A few I could have done without, but on the whole I think I heard God’s call and responded.

Sometimes I feel a call to do something and in my prayer tell God all the reasons I can’t do them. I can no longer say I’m too young, but now I can perhaps say I’m too old. But then Abraham got his call when he was 100 years old, so that won’t work. God plays by different rules. God does call us to do what we were born to do and while that may not always be crystal clear, there are certain aspects that cannot be denied. We are called to love one another. To be fair. To help and at the very least, not to hurt. We are called to be good, to be just, to live in humility. After that our own interests and passions will fill in the gaps, but essentially we are called to be in relationship with each other consistent with the love of God.

In the Gospel lesson Jesus begins his ministry on a tough note. In the 4th chapter of Luke that we read Jesus is making his first teaching appearance in his home synagogue. Everyone is pleased and waiting to hear nice things. It’s the same way we at St. George’s felt when Chris Carroll, Chris McCloud, Debbie Venezia, Bill Albinger, Margie Tuttle and Bambie Koeniger all took to this pulpit for the first time after being sponsored for ordination. For those of you who were present for those occasions, remember the pride we felt as each ascended these steps. The anticipation of their first sermons and how happy we all expected to be. The same is true, I suspect, for Jesus and the good people of his synagogue. Well, unlike each of our ordinands who did stellar jobs in the pulpit, Jesus blew it. He came across a bit arrogant and so offended the people that they took him to a cliff to throw him off. Now that’s bad. But he said what was on his mind and he never stopped. He still hasn’t, he still says things in times of our prayer that make us uncomfortable. But God’s call isn’t always warm and fuzzy. It’s more often uncomfortable, inconvenient, and seemingly impossible. There are many reasons not to accept God’s call and yet when we do, we are amazed by the results. God calls us to extraordinary ministry and stays with us.

This weekend held the annual convention of the Diocese of Newark. For those of you who are not very familiar with the Episcopal Church, the American Episcopal Church is divided into regions often along state boundaries into segments called Dioceses. The state of New Jersey was originally one Diocese called the Diocese of New Jersey, but when it got administratively too large by the number of churches, it was necessary to divide it. The top third of the state became the Diocese of Newark. We have in this Diocese 108 churches and like all the other American Dioceses we gather once a year to share our common vision for the ministry we believe God is calling us into. While churches operate individually, we also share resources and programs and support the ministry of the Bishop. At convention we debate and vote on resolutions that speak of the values and goals that we can work on together.

The Convention began on Friday with a Eucharist in the newly refurbished Trinity and St. Philip’s Cathedral on Broad Street. The preacher for that day was the Bishop of our neighboring Diocese of New Jersey, Bishop George Councell, who set a wonderful tone with stories and images of faith. The business of the convention was to vote on resolutions which cover contemporary issues of justice, administrative needs of our Diocese, the Budget, and electing people to serve on Diocesan boards and committees.

St. George’s, I’m proud to say, is well represented on the Diocesan level by Michael Francaviglia as Diocesan Administrator, Diane Sammons as Chancellor, Nina Nicholson as Communications Officer and Martha Gardner as representative to Jubilee ministries. We also have several others who serve on committees.

Bishop Beckwith has framed our conversations using four core values that were identified in years past as Worship, Spiritual Formation, Justice/Non-Violence, and Radical Hospitality. These core values led to the creation of a mission statement for the Diocese which is "Equipping congregations, Empowering people, Engaging the world, with the hope and Justice of Jesus."

We heard a lot of reports and debated various issues. The Diocesan website will cover these in detail, but suffice it to say the roughly 500 people gathered at the Robert Treat Hotel for this convention - clergy and elected delegates from each church - take their call seriously to work together in ministry. We are know nationally as a progressive Diocese among some and a radical Diocese by others. We have long led the nation in debates of women’s ordination and human sexuality to where now as much of the country gets combatant about these issues, we shrug as though they are non-issues. After all we debated them 20 years ago and have lived into a ministry others see as radical. To us it seems normal. We now have resolutions looking at issues like human trafficking - virtual and actual slavery in countries including the US where mostly women are kept against their will for slave labor or sex. We voted to study this more and raise awareness to this horrible practice, as well as looking at what’s called the "stained glass ceiling" in disparities among salaries and limitations faced by women clergy. We heard many reports requested by past conventions, including one by Episcopal Relief and Development which does so much to aid disaster victims around the world and now focusing on Haiti. (Martha Gardner will be leading a forum on this very subject after church today in the parish hall.)

The need we face in this world can be overwhelming and crushing. For those with out faith, they can only fall into despair and paralysis. As Christians and people of faith, we believe that God is bigger than any of the problems we face and that together we can transcend them and bring God’s love and hope into a world that sorely needs it. We are made and designed to do just that. From the womb each of us is called to enter the world as God’s unique messengers delivering God’s word in ways that only we can. Like Jeremiah we may demure, and like Jesus we may get in trouble for it, but we have to. For to whom God sends us we will go. Sooner or later, we will go.

In Paul’s famous letter to the Corinthians he describes love as being patient and kind, not envious or boastful and rejoices in the truth. We don’t always see clearly now, but someday we will and in the end, after all is said and done, there will be three things - faith hope and love, the greatest of which is love.

It’s that love we embrace for ourselves, that love we bring to each other, and that love that heals a broken world one person at a time. We are not too young or too old to respond to the call to love. We are called just as we are, wherever we are to carry God’s message of love. Amen.

©2010 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ

What Would Martin Say?

By Aleeda Crawley

On my first trip abroad, I met a Hungarian woman, Marta, in Paris; she and I continued to correspond for many years, and finally I persuaded my travel buddy Michelle to take a trip with me to Budapest. Marta spoke very little English, and I spoke very little French, and no Hungarian. Over the years, her husband translated my letters for her, and Michelle and I, having misunderstood a dinner invitation joined them for our second dinner one evening. We talked about the U.S., and the flow of many East Germans into Budapest, anticipating the fall of the Berlin wall. Over dessert her husband leaned back and said, “So, you are from Harlem? As it turned out, neither Michelle I lived in Harlem at the time, and we explained that all black Americans did not live in Harlem. We still laugh about t hat evening to this day. Stereotypes make it easy to understand the world, but they make for a humorous and sometimes dangerous shorthand.

I often see bracelets and bumper stickers with the letters WWJD, standing for What Would Jesus Do? In a lot in Maplewood Village, I’ve seen a strange twist on this question: Who would Jesus bomb? My question today is yet another version: what would Martin say? Here’s what Martin said: “the most segregated hour in America is 11 a.m. on Sunday morning.” In my personal experience, I would add to that any hour in barber shops, beauty salons, country clubs, board rooms. I don’t doubt that Dr. King would see this church as progress--seeing how far our nation has come, but I think he would be shocked at how far we still have to go. Maplewood/South Orange is one of only five communities in the U.S. where integration is visible on a block-to-block basis, and we are an anomaly in the fourth-most segregated state in the union. Within a few miles of this church there are marginalized citizens who do not have access to affordable housing, quality education, or basic healthcare. Within a few feet of my voice, there are friends who are denied the right to marry, which may seem frivolous to those of us whose partners are not denied insurance benefits, hospital visitations, or public displays of affection.

Dr. King is celebrated, and rightly so, as a civil rights leader. Unfortunately, so many people have characterized his work as being on behalf of African Americans, and this is a gross oversimplification. Dr. King was a human rights leader, speaking in favor of social justice for ALL people, and in favor of peaceful conflict resolution. He spoke of economic inequality, of a debilitating poverty that ultimately will impoverish everyone. The world seems so much more complex than it did 50 years ago. Still I looked at Dr. King’s words as I was preparing my homily, and believe that had he lived 3,000 years ago, like Isaiah, he would have been called a prophet. Today’s old Testament reading, with just a few changes, might have been spoken by him: For America's sake I will not keep silent, and for Washington’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch. If he were living today, he would be considered a visionary. His ideas are as powerful and valid now as they were to his audiences in the middle of the last century.

In a 1967 rally speech in Montgomery Dr. King asked the question: Are we really making any progress? He described three attitudes leading to different answers on the question. In it I saw that these attitudes haven’t changed, whether we are discussing race, or poverty, or human rights. The extreme optimist argues we’ve come a long, way, and society has just about solved these problems. The extreme pessimist says we’ve not seen meaningful progress; we’ve created more problems than we’ve solved because our flawed human nature cannot be changed. Dr. King concluded that both these arguments had one thing in common; they both led people to do nothing to change, one side because the work is done, the other because it cannot be completed.

Clarence Clark, a fellow parishioner, once told me that it was very strange coming to NYC from the south. In the south, the demarcation was clear; you knew where you could go, and where you would not be welcome. In NYC the lines were never so clearly drawn. I never understood, until I was older, why my parents resisted my frequent requests to “come on over” to Palisades Park as they invited us to do on those radio jingles. A post-civil rights era, young Yankee girl does not always recognize the slights of discrimination. As you get older, you notice awkward silences when you enter a room and NYC taxicabs passing you by in the evening. Martin said there is a third attitude, the realist: “The realist seeks to reconcile the truths of two opposites while avoiding the extremes of both.” The two conclusions are not mutually exclusive. Martin would say the realist understands we have come a long way since Clarence’s days in NYC but we still have some way to go in Aleeda’s time.

Dr. King stated that the realist, unlike the pessimist and the optimist had the responsibility to do something about righting a wrong. He said it many different ways: ‘Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.’, and ‘The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” A couple of years ago, I was asked to be on the nominating committee of an African American group I belonged to. We had chosen someone who was highly qualified for the office and was in every way just like her predecessors, with one exception: she was white. On the day of the election, another African American member not only asked the chosen candidate not to run for that office, but had the temerity to ask her to consider a lesser office. This member saw no wrong in doing this, but I was appalled, and left the group. I expressed my disappointment, asking if it was 1957 or 2007. The candidate, in her graciousness, did run for the lesser office, and was elected. I’m here to say today that racism is not dead, presidential elections notwithstanding, nor is discrimination limited to a particular group. I’ve heard it said that one type of discrimination is not the same as others. I’ve heard the bible quoted in support of some of these discriminations. Martin said: “In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” I remind all of these folks that the bible was used for hundreds of years to support the morality of slavery. Separate but equal is always more separate and less equal. Discrimination is immoral and unjust, and on this Martin was clear: ‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.’

We substituted today’s New Testament reading for the words of Dr. King, but part of today’s Epistle is truly appropriate for the celebration of Dr. King. 1 Corinthians says: Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. When I look out at you, I do not see black, white, Hispanic, Asian, straight, gay, Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, Democrat, Republican, young or old. I see mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters…friends. We are different, but the humanity that links us is more powerful than all the labels we use to divide us. More powerful than nationality, race or religion. More powerful than sexual orientation, gender or class.

In times of natural disaster, we look more like the world Dr. King would have wanted. We suspend our divisions and work together on a common task . The earthquake that struck Haiti this week brought me to tears. They were the same as the tears I shed when I watched the World Trade Towers collapse, when I saw the devastation of the tsunami in Asia, when I watched people waving for help from their rooftops in New Orleans. My horror turned to anger when hearing Pat Robertson condemn the victims as receiving a punishment they deserve. How wonderfully convenient to see the world as sinner and saved. Pat Robertson does not speak for me or my God, does not reflect my kind of Christianity. I want to tell Pat Robertson that I believe Dr. King would be ashamed of him and his lack of compassion for the suffering of another human. I also believe that Martin would say: Put aside your anger. Pray for Pat Robertson. Do whatever you can to ease the suffering of the Haitian people.

This world unity soon fades, and we slowly slip back into our old –isms and phobias. I have often thought the only time when we will abandon our tendency to see differences in each other is when some powerful alien attacks Earth, determined to annihilate the human race. The alien won’t ask how you voted, what your nationality is, who you slept with or what God you worshiped. They will unfortunately possess the unity humans have abandoned.

Martin thought that Jesus’ most important lesson was "Love your enemies." He said: "There’s another reason why you should love your enemies, and that is because hate distorts the personality of the hater. We usually think of what hate does for the individual hated or the individuals hated or the groups hated. But it is even more tragic, it is even more ruinous and injurious to the individual who hates. You begin hating somebody, and you will begin to do irrational things. You can’t see straight when you hate. You can’t walk straight when you hate. You can’t stand upright. Your vision is distorted. There is nothing more tragic than to see an individual whose heart is filled with hate. If you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. If you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the power of redemption."

Martin’s book Where do we Go from Here? Chaos or Community?, published posthumously, contains a powerful essay, The World House, in which he writes: “We have inherited a large house, a great "world house" in which we have to live together—black and white, Easterner and Westerner, Gentile and Jew, Catholic and Protestant, Moslem and Hindu—a family unduly separated in ideas, culture and interest, who, because we can never again live apart, must learn somehow to live with each other in peace.” He continues: “Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, too late." I hope it’s not too late for us and our children, and our children’s children. Sometimes, when hearing or seeing how creative mankind can be in its divisiveness man I fear that it is too late. I see dismissive labels and stereotypes that give people permission to denigrate, deny and defame the humanity of people seen as “other”. What sustains me is those glimmers of proof that may not be too late. My parents grew up in an America where they could not live, eat or shop where they chose; where they could not vote freely, where opportunities for higher education were limited, where their lives could be threatened for some imagined slight. My dad never lived to see an African American elected President of the United States. I could not have imagined peace in Ireland, or a post-apartheid South Africa in my lifetime. Who could have predicted that Iowa would offer their gay citizens the right to marry before we saw such legislation passed in NY or NJ? The Red Cross raised $9MM within 72 hours following the Haitian earthquake. We have, for the moment, turned swords into plowshares; the military forces of several countries are there helping the people of Haiti. The outreach of support and aid has been as rapid as the destruction. I could not have predicted it, but Dr. King wrote of such things: This call for a world-wide fellowship that lifts neighborly concern beyond one’s tribe, race, class and nation is in reality a call for an all-embracing and unconditional love for all men. This often misunderstood and misinterpreted concept has now become an absolute necessity for the survival of man.

We have a responsibility to love everyone, and ultimately to forsake the idea of enemies versus allies, of them versus us, of inferior versus superior, of any type of OTHER. We are one, connected not by those things which separate us, but the one thing that is within us all, no matter how scarred: our humanity. We simply cannot survive as a species if we continue to identify people as “other”. There is a Cherokee proverb: One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith." The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed." To this I can only think Dr King would say: let the church say Amen.

© 2010 Aleeda Crawley