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Seeking Justice with Love The Rev. Canon William Barnwell Texts: 1 Peter 3:13–22 ; Psalm 66:7–18; John 14:15–21 In the name of Jesus, our Teacher, our Savior, our Advocate Jesus said to his disciples, as we just heard, “If you love me, you will obey my commandments.” (John 14:15) Jesus gave us many commandments in the four gospels both directly and indirectly through the wonderful stories, the parables. This morning I want to focus on those particular commandments that enlighten and direct us in outreach and justice-seeking ministries. I should say at the outset that outreach and justice ministries are of course only part of what the church is all about. As canon missioner here at the National Cathedral, my charge has been to support and develop such ministries in the District of Columbia, and as possible, beyond. When Jesus began his ministry in Luke’s gospel, preaching in the synagogue in Nazareth, he could have chosen any passage to read from the Hebrew Scripture, what we call the Old Testament. Significantly, he chose a passage from the prophet of Isaiah to introduce his ministry, and it is this passage that compels us as Christians—whether through direct service ministry or public policy advocacy—compels us to do our best to give all of God’s children a real chance at a good life. Isaiah wrote and Jesus quoted that first day of his ministry in Nazareth this passage: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, Some forty years ago when Dr. King gave his last Sunday sermon from this pulpit, he retold the story from Luke of Dives, the rich man, and poor and sick Lazarus. (16:19-31) When they died, Lazarus went to heaven; the rich man, Dives, went to hell. The rich man’s problem, King said, was not that he was rich. His wealth in fact gave him a great opportunity to help build a just society. His problem was that he passed by “poor and sick” Lazarus, who was forced to beg for food, every day, and “he never really saw him.” Lazarus was completely irrelevant to the world the rich man had made for himself. “He had become invisible” to the rich man. We pass by the poor and sick every day in our rich country without ever seeing them, King was saying. Things haven’t changed very much for those poor and sick and for many persons of color—if they have changed at all. Many of us pass by those African Americans in prison (one out of every 15 men over the age of 18 is behind bars) and we never acknowledge them. Imagine that! One out of fifteen of our own people of color in jail. Our prison rate is the highest in the world! It is so sad. We pass by all those black families in the District of Columbia who make $55,000 less each year than their white counterparts and we hardly notice. According to the Washington Post one in three working families in the District live in poverty—these are working families in poverty. “The common perception is that people who are low-income…are not working enough. They are working. They’re just not earning enough,” said Ed Lazere of the D.C. Fiscal Policy Institute. [Washington Post, April 14, 2008] Like Dives, we pass by the thousands of homeless men and women (mostly black) every day and we look the other way. We pass by those suffering from AIDS right here in the Capital (the numbers are staggering, the highest in the nation), and, as a society, we do not see… Rev. Jeremiah Wright may have gotten some important things wrong, but unlike Dives, Wright—with his church in South Chicago—has seen and still sees the devastation of our cities, and his congregation has responded appropriately and effectively with their outreach efforts—everything from prison ministry, to AIDS prevention, to mentoring young people in trouble, and on and on. With all due respect: If we are going to criticize Rev. Wright with all of our effusive eloquence, maybe we as a people should take the log out of our own eye and see, see what he and his people see, see what is really going on among those Jesus called “the least of these, our sisters and brothers.” (Matthew 25:40) So how do we who love the Lord obey his commands and respond to the world as it is? First, I hope that we make our own something the great theologian Paul Tillich said some fifty years ago: “Love without justice leads to sentimentality; justice without love leads [eventually] to tyranny.” If we are true to the one who came from God to bless and guide the entire world with unconditional love, we must pay attention to how Christ gave his love: how he gave it to the poor, the guilt-ridden, the blind, the lepers of society, the broken-hearted. To the broken, Jesus gave his love gently with a touch, with a loving, encouraging smile, we can imagine. But he also gave his love to the arrogant, the self-righteous, those who would put down the poor and oppressed. Yes, he even gave his love to the rich and powerful like Dives. But for people like him, Jesus had to get their attention. So he gave them what we might call “tough love.” “White washed tombs,” he called the Pharisees. “Woe to you who are rich now,” he said to all who would listen. “Go and sell all you own and give to the poor if you want to follow me,” he said to the rich young ruler. To make his point symbolically, he turned over tables in the temple, where merchants in their pursuit of wealth were desecrating what was holy. The love of Jesus could never be called a sentimental kind of love. But make no mistake: Jesus spoke his many harsh words to the rich and powerful because he loved them as much as he loved those they were abusing. He told the parable of Dives, the rich man, and poor and sick Lazarus to wake up and save the rich and blind like Dives. He wanted them to claim the best in themselves, to claim their humanity, to make them know that they too were created in the very image of a loving and caring God, a generous-spirited God. Justice empty of love does not recognize that the rich man is just as much a child of God as is Lazarus. Justice empty of love leads eventually to tyranny. Dives just needed to be hit over the head with a book or something like that to wake him up. Second, I hope that when we do give of ourselves to the hungry, the sick, to those in prison, to the homeless, the near homeless, those working families in DC who live in poverty, I hope we will see the Christ in those persons, as Jesus himself (in Matthew 25) promised we would. And what a gift to us that is! Those most in need know just how temporary, how fragile this life is. Many of them will tell you in their own way that it is only God upon whom we can ultimately rely. These same people often show us the face of Christ. Visit the 8:00 Sunday morning service at Epiphany Episcopal Church (a few blocks from the White House) some time. You will see maybe two hundred homeless people and their Episcopal friends worshipping together. Instead of a sermon, you will hear those same homeless people testify to what God’s love means in their lives. And when the collection plate is passed, you will see them put in several coins, maybe a crumpled dollar bill or two. This is not a tenth of what they have; often it is all that they have. Visit Epiphany Church some Sunday at 8:00 and you will see the face of Christ. Seeing the faith of Christ in those Jesus called “the least of these our sisters and brothers” will empower you to serve those same people, not in a condescending, paternalistic way, but in a most appreciative and thankful way. Third, in order to do our part to make sure all of God’s children have a real chance at a good life, I hope we will develop partnerships with churches and service organizations across race, class, denomination, geographic lines in this very segregated city and other segregated cities as well. Most every Sunday, I visit a different black church in the District, representing the National Cathedral. I am always greeted warmly. Seldom, if ever, do I hear inflammatory rhetoric, but I do hear preachers who see the poor and the sick, who see the two million of our citizens now in prison, who see the homeless and the near homeless in this rapidly gentrifying city. (I am usually the only white person in these services, which remain, as Dr. King said, “the most segregated time of the week.”) I not only hear preachers who see Lazarus, really see him, but I see their churches, in a spirit of thanksgiving and joy, I see them bringing life and hope:
I see that most every Sunday. And the really good news is that these black pastors and their people give this life and hope without fanfare, without commentary. “It is just what a people of God do,” they will tell you. There was a time when we historically white churches thought we were doing historically black churches a big favor by partnering with them. No more. In my experience anyway, those churches have at least as much to give us as we have to give them, maybe more. The National Cathedral has begun a partnership with such a church, a caring church, a brave church, Covenant Baptist in Anacostia. We are now getting to know each other, reflecting on Scripture together, telling our stories. Soon, we hope to do the DOCC program together (the Disciples of Christ in Community program) over 15 or so weeks, moving back and forth between the two churches… Finally, besides developing these bridge-building partnerships with churches and other organizations that serve low-income persons, I hope we will also be justice-seekers. I hope we will stand with those we partner with and speak out with them and support them on justice issues:
We have a great opportunity to make our stand through the non-partisan Washington Interfaith Network (or WIN). Fifty-five faith communities come together from all walks of life from all across the city to advocate for public policies so important to low-income DC. WIN has been most successful, receiving promises from the mayor and city council to provide a billion dollars for affordable housing over a ten year period and another quarter of a billion dollars for improvement of public school facilities. Along with seven other Episcopal churches, the National Cathedral is an active member of WIN. I hope and pray we will continue to support WIN and will heed the words of the first Jeremiah, who, over 2500 years ago, said, “Seek the welfare of the city…for in its welfare, you will find your welfare.” (Jeremiah 29:7) That could be WIN’s motto. Would that it would be our motto as well! So: Can we see, really see “poor and sick” Lazarus and not pass him by as though he were invisible. Can we see the Christ in him? Can we respond with justice and love for all? Can we become strong partners with churches, other faith communities, and effective agencies that serve those in greatest need? And finally, can we stand with those faith communities and agencies on vital issues of social and economic justice? I began this morning with Jesus saying in John’s Gospel: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” In the next sentence, Jesus goes on to say that, after he leaves us, he will ask the father to give us another Advocate, who will be with us forever. That Advocate we call the Holy Spirit. When we try to do God’s will, no matter how far we might fall short, we can count on God being with us, no matter what. He will never leave us alone. He will be our Advocate forever. In the early days of the Montgomery boycott, Dr. King lost his nerve. He became terribly frightened, not so much for himself but for his family. Late one night, after a particularly menacing phone call, by himself, sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, the young Martin was about to give up. But then Jesus came to him and gave him new strength to carry on. “I heard the voice of Jesus,” King wrote of the experience. “He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone. No never alone.” When we try to obey the commandants of Christ, try to walk that road that he lays out for us, no matter how many times we might stumble, we can know beyond doubt that Christ our Advocate will never leave us alone. No never alone. Christ Jesus promises never to leave us alone. And that is good news indeed! |