Sunday, March 31, 2019

Sermon for March 31, 2019


The Beatitudes and the Politics of the Meek and Merciful
Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock

I once heard someone say a sermon is like a drum solo; it’s a lot better if you know when it’s going to end. You will need a roadmap to today’s sermon so we can find our way to the end, because it started out as a continuation of my series on the politics of the Beatitudes. Then Sam asked if I can say something about temptation, and I said, “OK.” Then Adrianne reminded me that Pledge Sunday was next week and asked if I could preach about Stewardship and I said, “OK.” Then we had a local immigration crisis erupt this week which took a lot of my time and energy, and I want to tell you all about that, too. So buckle up. Today you get Charlie Daniels, forgiveness, stewardship, immigration, and whatever else we can throw in there. We better pray together. I asked _____ to lead us in prayer before our sermon today…

Humanity vs. the Devil. It’s a tale as old as time. You might know one such story from the South that starts like this: “The Devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal. He was in a bind ‘cause he was way behind, and he was willin’ to make a deal.” Charlie Daniels’ song, The Devil Went Down to Georgia, tells the tale of Johnny, who outplays the devil in a fiddle contest and wins the devil’s golden violin. Except when I listen to that song, I wonder if the devil really won. Sure, the devil might have lost the fiddle competition with Johnny, but Johnny is quite arrogant at the end. That’s not how you beat the devil – at least now how Jesus did it. In the Bible, the devil appeals to Jesus’s ego, but, unlike Johnny, Jesus didn’t take the bait. For our second reading, I asked John Wack to offer this re-telling of the story of Jesus being tempted by the devil in the wilderness. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present John Wack in “The Devil Went Down to Jordan”!
The devil went down to the Jordan
He was lookin’ for a show to steal
He was in a bind ‘cause Jesus came to find
Those willing to make it real.
And he came upon the Son of Man
Who no vittles and was prayin’ to God,
Then the devil jumped on the chance to tempt Him
Said “Boy, let me tell ya, it’s hot!”
“I guess you didn’t know it but I’m a vittle-craver too,
“And kid I’m scared this desert air might get the best of you.
“Now you ain’t been eatin’ your vittles boy
“But, kid, your dinner is due,
“So if you’re really God’s Son, then turn these stones
To bread and I’ll butter it for you.”
The Lord said, “I am hungry, but that would be a sin,
“ ‘Cause it ain’t by bread we’re man’s be fed
“But by the Word God’s given him.”
John the Baptist washed the Lord and there’s where it all starts
‘Cause Jesus left the Jordan and the devil hit Him hard.
And if He wins we get to walk on Heaven’s streets of gold
But if He sins, the devil gets your soul.
The devil took Him up in space and said, “Christ, start to throw
“Yourself off this temple top as I’m watchin’ from below.
“Cause I’m sure You know that God will bring
“All His angels to assist,
“And then all would believe You’re Him
“If they saw You did something like this”    

When the devil finished, Jesus said,
“Well, you’re temptin’ God, old son,
And it’s written down in that book right there
That thing shouldn’t ever be done.”
Shout from the mountain what God’s done
The devil ain’t a match for the rising Son.
You can never tempt God, did you not know
People don’t live by bread alone.  
The devil finally said, “Jesus, if You’ll just worship me
Then I’ll give you gold that glitters,
All these crowns, and all You see.”
Jesus said, “Devil, just turn on back
‘Cause I’m never gonna buy your scam.
I love God too much, I’m gonna resist.
I’d suggest you’d better scram!”

Humanity vs. the Devil. Our literature and music are all full of these stories. Many of us here doubt the devil is an actual creature, but our culture and collective memory still hold onto these stories. They talk about what is most important about the concept of evil: it exists. The world is not perfect. We are only a few bad decisions away from going back on promises, abandoning who we are, and betraying all that we love, to gain something for ourselves.

There is a broken part in me as an individual and in us as a society. We love imperfectly. We are sometimes willing to sell our souls, even for good reasons. We are tempted to go back on our principles — especially in extreme situations.

It’s not that we’re bad people. It’s that we can make really bad decisions, without much provocation. Temptation is anything that entices us to use a short-cut to reach a desirable goal. Consider the news about the college admissions cheating scandal that broke a couple of weeks ago. People with means bought their children’s ways into elite schools. Good grades are desirable. They can open doors. They can attract scholarships. They make parents happy. Students must work hard to get good grades. But, the easiest way to get rewarded is to pay someone else off do the work for you. It’s easier to cheat. We get the rewards without having to earn them. Not every temptation is so obvious. Not every failure is so embarrassing. But every temptation presents us with a decision about right and wrong and whom we will serve. In our faith stories, not even Jesus was spared this choosing

Again, it’s not that we are bad people. Most bad decisions, even the horrible ones, do not set out to be evil. I don’t want to be cruel, I want to be comfortable. I want convenience and personal advancement. I want my family and friends to be happy and successful. When we talk about greed, jealousy, resentment, or lust, these are all stoked by self-interest.

I am confronted with these choices every time I am asked to engage in public activism. Honestly, I prefer not to be in the spotlight, and I’m not the kind of person who runs toward a fight. I’m tempted to hold back, to let someone else do the work. This past week I felt that temptation again. Wednesday night, I learned that ICE (US Immigration and Customs Enforcement) threatens to detain and deport a Montgomery County community leader and personal friend. Everyone calls him Coach Fofo. He lives and breathes soccer. When he came to our country 20 years ago, he founded the Elite Soccer Youth Development Academy (ESYDA) in Silver Spring. He also petitioned for asylum in the US. His petition and following appeal were denied. Fofo stayed in the US, working in school systems and mentoring the youth in Montgomery and Price George’s Country through his soccer academy. Coach Fofo was targeted for deportation by ICE in 2013. ICE allowed him to remain in Maryland, and Fofo checked in regularly with the agency. Immigration authorities told Fofo to bring his passport to a check-in last Friday. When Ice says bring your passport, it’s an indication that deportation is imminent. Fofo has not lived in Togo for 40 years. He has a 14-year-old American-born son. He uses soccer to teach children and youth the value of character and scholarship. He models citizenship and leadership. He is the kind of person who will go out of his way to make sure no athlete misses a game, even if he must pick up each player by himself. Fofo has taught an entire generation of youth. Some of them are now grown and working on his staff. Fofo is a good man who does good things for people – many of whom don’t have many good things in their lives.

Coach Fofo, members from Casa de Maryland, the Sanctuary DMV Congregation Network, and I had a couple of conference calls together on Wednesday and Thursday. Should our churches provide sanctuary? Should he go underground for a while? What are the risks if he goes to his ICE check in? After weighing all the options, Fofo decided to accept the danger and go to his appointment. We organized a quick rally outside the federal building Friday morning. Thanks to LJ Ingram and Allen Hill for showing up, as well as the 40 or so community activists, public leaders, and clergy friends who came.

Fofo is also a man of faith. I was honored to pray with Fofo and accompany him to his check in with his son, his lawyer, and Jewru Bandeh, Director of the Eastern Montgomery County Regional Center. Fofo was given one month to return to ICE with a passport to Togo and an airline ticket. It’s not great news. ICE at least allowed him to go home with his family. We are now activating a wider network to free Fofo. Stay tuned for details about our next support rally in April to fill Hopkins Plaza in support of Coach Fofo.

Fofo’s story is an example of the Lord-knows-how-many cases like this going on all the time. Our government continues its 400-year old practice of family separation that’s been going on since the first enslaved Africans came to Virginia. We’ve all seen the news about children taken from parents at the border. There are now videos of immigrants detained behind fences beneath a highway underpass in Texas. When I see this atrocious treatment, it’s easy to become numb and inactive. It’s hard to give up my comfort to engage with injustice. My life is relatively easy. I’m not being attacked by ICE and I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I don’t want to give up a long-overdue day off to protest in the streets. I convince myself there’s nothing I can do. I’m not trying to be wicked. It’s just that I’m selfish and tempted to let my actions be determined by my fears. Every temptation presents us with a decision about right and wrong and whom we will serve.

I feel badly when I cave into the temptations rather than doing what I know if the better, healthier decision. I know most of us feel badly. How can we change directions? How can we find the mercy and forgiveness we need to repair us and help us do better next time?

If you are the person asking for forgiveness, you express a promise: You can count on me not to do this sort of thing again. If you are the one forgiving another, saying “I forgive you,” lets the other know that your future actions toward her or him will not be governed by the other person’s past behavior. Rather than being burdened by the ongoing presence of anger and resentment, forgiving and being forgiven releases us from hostilities so that we can begin to grow in a healthier direction. In the grip of resentment, one remains a victim. So, when Jesus says, “Blessed are the merciful,” he offers some hope that those of us who clutch our disappointments and betrayals can find some release and ultimate happiness.

Forgiveness is not just about individual temptation. Forgiveness has a collective dimension … a political perspective … a systemic standpoint. After all, Jesus teaches us to pray saying, “Forgive us our sins,” not “Forgive me my sins.” Since the late 1980s, the language of apology and forgiveness has appeared with increasing frequency on the political scene. Nations, and religions like the Roman Catholic Church, began asking for forgiveness for historic evils. Collectives can commit themselves to act in ways not determined by the wrongs they have inflicted. Communities are capable of releasing wrongdoers from cycles of retribution. Organizations can refuse to act on hostile motives grounded on revenge. When one group shows mercy to another group, we find less hostility and more willingness for people to work towards cooperative goals.

You see, our faith challenges me to wrestle with my place in an “us” that needs God’s forgiveness. Each of us inhabits larger webs of injustice that cry out for mercy.
×          Do “we” enjoy safety because we remain silent while our neighbors suffer, whether next door, across the border, or on the other side of the world?
×          Do “we” possess land that was stolen from others, years or centuries before?
×          Do “we” have advantages in society due to a history of oppression?
×          Do “we” let tons of food go into dumpsters while others go hungry?
×          Do “we” buy and wear clothes that were made by exploited children in sweatshops?

When I stop and think about the systems that “we” inhabit, I shudder. Our systems are laced with the rat poison of injustice and evil. So, if we’re going to follow this Jesus who resisted temptation in the wilderness, this Jesus who blessed the meek and merciful, this Jesus who forgives those who cause him the most pain … If we’re going to follow Jesus, then we must be ready to radically expand our sense of responsibility.

So, do you think an enforcement agency like ICE could every show mercy (Understood, ICE is acting on the despicable immigration policies and methods of a merciless administration). The over-criminalization of our law and the hamstringing of judges who show too much leniency; the ill-conceived and ineffective “war on drugs”; and our vast, expensive, over-crowded prison system convince me that governors and presidents and those who have the power to do so should revive the American tradition of mercy. Our national, state, and local leaders must stop being silent, neglectful, irrelevant observers of cruel and unjust processes, and show us a different way. And if they don’t, then we need to remind them at voting time.
The truth is, we all want mercy. And it’s there for us. God extends mercy and comfort to all. But mercy is not given just so we can feel better. God offers mercy as a way for us to restore our relationships. God offers mercy so we can extend mercy to others. Mercy is a continual outpouring to others. That’s part of what churches are supposed to be: communities of faith that give mercy before receiving mercy. The church is defined by the quality of its mercy – our ability to restore and humanize those who need to know kindness. It is time for us to be known in the community as Defenders of the Poor. Hospitals of Healing. Refuges of Rescue. It is time. As people of faith, we must be people of mercy, pouring the healing oil of kindness, nurturing others in the womb of love. 

That’s the church I want to worship in. That’s the church I want to lead. As I talk with many of you, I get the strong sense that you want that, too.

Now for the pitch…

If we want to be and do all of this, then we make some sacrifices to our comfort and convenience. It takes a lot of time and energy to organize for change. It takes patient and tenacious activism. It takes money. Lots of money. For example, say someone comes to us and needs to live in sanctuary until an immigration appeal is resolved. Say that person is in sanctuary in a local church for a year. Or two. Or more. Who will supply the food? Who will help financially support the person’s family? Who will keep the person active and inspired? Who will help pay court costs and legal fees when a person in sanctuary can’t work? Who will help with medical when a person has no insurance? Who will coordinate safety? It’s easy to do help for a week or a month. Who will do it for a year? Or two? By the way, we have someone in our DMV Network living in sanctuary at Cedar Lane UUA. Her name is Rosa. This is just one person. What happens when more people need the support of the sanctuary network? Who’s going to step up?

Well, we are, of course! And it takes a great many resources to make it happen.
I’m asking each of us to participate in our pledge Sunday next week and make a financial commitment to CCC. We have some internal aspirations this year. Yes, we are looking to increase some staff hours and compensation. Yes, we need to cover our debt service for the social hall and take care of other building maintenance issues. I believe you will all contribute and help those issues. You know what else? I need your participation in these outward issues of justice and activism. I need you on the streets and in the public meetings with me. I need us to think about how we will stand with immigrant families who might need our ongoing physical and financial support. Please consider how much you can give. I mean really, prayerfully, actively think before you commit. If you are new to our tradition, we do not get support from other organizations. Whatever we pay for, however we set and fund our priorities, it all relies on the generosity of our donors. The truth is, like most public organizations, CCC does not have the money and volunteers to do the things we say we want to do. We get stuck. 

CCC, it’s time. Please. It’s time to do more. It’s time to grow into the congregation we claim to be. And while I want us to give more money, it’s not about money. I’m really talking about choosing the way of gratitude. The way of hope. The way of mercy. The way we show up, not just with our lips, but with our lives.
Ok … Charlie Daniels? Check. Temptation, forgiveness, and politics? Check. Immigration? Check. Stewardship? Check. We covered a lot of terrain in a relatively short time. This sermon will be online so you can watch or read it again. And let me know what you think. I’m always willing to keep the conversation going.

Sources:

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Sermon for March 17, 2019 | Lent 2


The Beatitudes and the Politics of Grief


Throughout Lent, I’m reading the beatitudes and think about them politically. Today we deal specifically with the promise about loss: blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted. On the surface, it sounds so awful to my ears. It reminds me of the things people say when they don’t know what to say. Like when people say, “Everything happens for a reason. Others have it worse than you. Are you over her yet? She’s been gone a long time. She wouldn’t want you to be so sad. God wanted her more than you. Heaven needed another angel. God will never give you more than you can handle.” When we make thoughtless comments in our own discomfort, we try to minimize and fix another’s grief, but only manage to make it worse. It’s a way for people to disconnect from the excruciating pain another feels when someone dies.

I think we need a different lens to understand the beatitudes. How can Jesus so boldly claim that those who mourn are actually blessed? It’s one of those surprise reversals Jesus is known for. Jesus redefines suffering. Those who suffer are the ones who flourish. You can only experience it once you realize the world's present regime is passing away. The violence. The hatred. The greed. The leaders who satisfy themselves at the expense of the poor. The politicians who pretend to care for the downtrodden while taking away their rights. The terrorist who go into houses of worship and murder people of faith. Jesus says a new world is growing. Wholeness, peace, and compassionate justice have been planted. In this new reality, the so-called losers are the ones who flourish. Flourishers have a hunger and thirst for God to set the world to right. For Jesus, all this hungering and thirsting for righteousness, all this poverty, grief, and persecution, sets hearts in line to help a God’s new aims for the world.

Blessed are those who mourn. They shall be comforted. We all bear the ravages of grief and the toll of sickness in our bodies and in our relationships. Most religions deal with the question of human finitude. For the Buddhist, pain is inevitable. Growing old. Illness. Dying. Even love is full of pain. If we are all going to die, then how do we keep on living? How can humans be saved from pain? The Buddha asked: What might happen if we stop struggling against the pain in our life? For Chinese Taoism, the sacred principle behind the universe is like a river. You can choose to swim against the current or you can choose to be saved by simply going with the flow. For Ancient Judaism, the answer was to turn to community and guarantee the survival of the tribe. Through keeping covenant, Jews are saved as a people for a prosperous and reproductive life here on earth. The basic problem with human nature, as Islam sees it, is injustice. The Prophet Mohammad’s world was torn apart by blood feuds between rival clans, threatening his people’s security and prosperity. Muhammad’s revelation demanded that every person submit to God alone, leaving behind vengeance killings and other injustices in favor of a single consistent sacred law, regardless of that person’s social station or tribal affiliation. For Islam, salvation is achieved when the just society is established.

Christians also deal with human finitude. Christianity taught that because of human sin, human life is hard and short. The fix is accepting the atoning work of Christ, enjoying abundant life here on earth and eternal life in the hereafter. Jesus will return, gather the faithful and bring them to Heaven. We hear it in our reading from 1 Thessalonians. Paul writes to a little church in modern-day Greece. The members of the church have been persecuted for their faith. Paul has reports that they are losing their way. So he writes a letter to encourage them. Towards the end of the letter he says:

And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope . . . We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died.  For the Lord will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-17

Christianity has spawned many movements of people who wait out the final return of the Lord. In America, some of them were Utopian communities. Others, like the Adventists, are still with us today. They all play on a theme that has been with us for a long time: Jesus will return and reward the virtuous for their courage. Jesus will also punish evil-doers, with a clear separation between saints and sinners. A future moment will come when all tears will be wiped away, sorrow forgotten, joy restored, and the faithful will live in the light of God forever. We hear it in Ozark Mountain hymns like “I’ll fly away,” written by a man who dreamed of soaring away from the cotton fields of Oklahoma.

But wait a minute. I’m not a persecuted Christian. In fact, I am blessed. By pure luck, I’m a straight, white, married man with access to the privileges of the dominant culture. I don’t know much about persecution and enslavement. Here’s what I do know. I know pain. I know loneliness and depression. I know grief. I’ve sat with and listened to a hundred people who grieve from the depths of their being. I’ve witnessed the sorrow of prejudice against my friends, and my children. I’ve grieved with gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender friends who suffer the trauma of treatment as second-class citizens. And during it all, I am not going to wait to fly away from earth to my heavenly home for life to get better. I want to know salvation NOW. I want those who grieve to flourish, NOW. I want the world to experience healing NOW. I want tears to be wiped away NOW, sorrow comforted NOW, love’s joy restored NOW. I think this is what God wants, too. But I’m not just going to wait around for it. So, I guess you and I will just have to help make this blessed human flourishing happen … NOW.

The urgency of our times means those who grieve are part of a political process. I’m not talking about joining a political party so you can get your individual preferences voted into power. Mourners take part in active civic engagement and collective deliberation about all matters affecting our community. And those who mourn … well, that’s everyone. There is no shortage of suffering. The blessing of grief has its greatest political impact every time suffering citizens gather in a public space to deliberate and decide about matters of collective concern. Power springs up whenever people get together and act together. Think on the opportunities we’ve had to watch this principle in action this week. We listened to those who mourn the deaths from gun violence and mass murder, and our young people who took to the streets demanding for sane gun laws this week. They build power and show us what it means to flourish when the odds are against them. Protesters gathered on the mall to grieve the killing of the Earth and demanded laws to combat climate change. They get together and act together. In their grief, they are blessed because they know what a new Earth really means for our survival and can show us the way there. We cry along with those who mourn the murder of Muslim worshippers in New Zealand by an ani-immigrant, anti-Muslim terrorist. Their vulnerable tears remind us that white supremacy is a sinful expression of power in the hands of haters. God’s new world invites those who mourn to help create powerful communities that flourish by going beyond our private self-interest. And that’s where we come in.

Faith disconnected from real life and real suffering is vanity. And vanity is a luxury that Christians can no longer afford in today’s world. That’s why I love this poem by the mystic Kabir. He lived around the year 1500 CE. Kabir was a Muslim who tried to reconcile Sufi Islam with Hinduism. He wanted people to leave aside the Qur'an and Vedas, and people’s entrenched assumptions, so they could follow the simple way of oneness with God. Here is one of his poems, translated by Robert Bly.

Friend, hope for the guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think . . . and think . . . while you are alive.
What you call salvation belongs to the time before death.
If you don’t break your ropes while you are alive,
Do you think ghosts will do it after?
The idea that the soul will rejoin with the ecstatic just because the body is rotten—
That is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
You will simply end up with an apartment in the City of Death.
If you make love with the divine now,
In the next life you will have the face of satisfied desire.
So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is.
Believe in the Great Sound!
Kabir says this:
When the Guest is being searched for,
It is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity
Did you hear what Kabir suggest? Jump into experience while you are still alive. If we don’t break our ropes NOW, how will it happen later? Don’t wait for some future healing of our mistakes and bad decisions. Don’t let pain paralyze us into inaction. What is found now is found later.

Without even being aware of it, we can easily slip into living life as if it were a rehearsal for the real thing. We only have this moment. You know where I get glimpses and little reminders of the reality of NOW? For me, it’s in the simplest treasures: A supporting hand upon my shoulder or a loving brush of my cheek; the softest whisper of truth spoken in adoration; the early morning orchestra of music from the birds outside my window; the refreshment of the breeze, the contagious laughter of those we love;  the pain of loss; the miracle of healing; the unstoppable toil for a better world; the constant reminders of how precious each moment truly is; the moments when I experience kindness and compassion.

Jump into experience while you are still alive.
Break the ropes
Plunge into truth
Fall into love.
Cry YES! To the immensity of life.
Say YES! To sharing the power of beauty.
Do this while mourning, and you are blessed.

As we become present to ourselves and God and others, we begin a journey without end. All we are asked to do is start down that road. NOW.

Sources:
http://progressivechristianity.org/resources/823/
http://uustoughtonma.org/Sermons/Archives/20020331-DancingWithEternity.htm
http://www.namethathymn.com/hymn-lyrics-detective-forum/index.php?a=vtopic&t=177
http://throughaglass.net/archives/2012/02/24/saving-my-life/
Roger Housden, Ten Poems to Change Your Life, pp. 53-62.
Ernest Best, The First and Second Epistles to the Thessalonians, Blacks NT Commentary.
https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/arendt/

Sermon for October 6, 2019

Abundant Bread Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock They found him on the other side of the lake and asked, “Rabbi, when did you get her...