Juneteenth Sermon

Almighty God, we come, once again grateful for your love towards us and thankful for your presence with us. We ask now, that you would hold us, you would draw us, but we pray that you would fill us for all the places you are preparing to send us. We ask this in your wonderful Name. Amen. You may be seated.

There are so many directions, of course, where I could enter in and begin in a moment like this, but I must say, of course, “Happy Father’s Day”, to all of the fathers who are present. And even with that, it is almost insufficient, while at the same time appropriate, to characterize this unique generational moment and season that we all find ourselves in by simply saying what I have heard said all morning long, “There’s a lot going on”. We find ourselves gathered here both in person and online for those who have joined with us from many corners, both near and far. We have gathered together keenly aware of the deepening divisions between neighbors, between communities, between races, between the nations. And of course I could go on in the many other ways our human family is fractured.

We are living through a season of challenging, confusing, and what might be described as chaotic circumstances. But I remind us here, challenging seasons are not unique to human history. They’re unique to those experiencing the moment. So here we are. It’s our turn. Here we are in a moment when we find ourselves trying to figure out and navigate our way through. Unless you have buried your head in the sands of distractions, at some level, every one of us comes to this moment carrying burdens heaped on us because of the current reality. So we have come to church. We have gathered together in this place like many others who have gathered in churches around this world. But we have told others, we have planned with others, we have talked to others about coming to church. I had to wonder on my way here, even in my preparation, did we come and are we here so that we might be in church, or are we here so that we might be the Church? In a moment like this, the Church is needed. In a moment like this, voices need to be heard. In a moment like this, actions need to be done. In a moment like this, there are so many things that can only be done by the Church, that sound different when it comes from the Church. Not when it just comes from the building, but when it comes from the people.

In a noted saying by the well-known theologian, Walter Brueggemann, who passed not long ago. He put it this way, “The prophetic task of the Church are to tell the truth in a society that lives in illusion, to grieve in a society that practices denial and to express hope in a society that lives in despair.” If we were honest and looking around the room, I think a lot of that is living in a moment like this. The illusions that we have put up, that we are better than what we think we are. There’s a lot of grieving in a moment like this. There’s a lot of denial. But there are also those who are looking for some hope, because there’s enough despair that we have read and seen and heard.

Today in the Christian liturgical calendar you have been reminded already. You have looked at your programs and you have noted that it’s Trinity Sunday. And Trinity Sunday is significant, not because it focuses on any specific event in the life of Jesus or the early church, but rather on a central doctrine of the Christian faith. The Holy Trinity, hard to explain, hard to understand, but a doctrine all the same that helps to undergird us, that holds us, speaks to us. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Even with the shortage of words and the ability to be able to express it in all of its fullness, here we are.

Perhaps mindful that there are many specific events touched by this day. As noted, it’s Father’s Day. At the same time, we’re mindful of the national observance of Juneteenth in just a few days. While we remember the struggle for freedom, the call to confront ongoing racial injustice while emphasizing the importance of liberation, equity and full citizenship for all people in a democratic society. Others have come and perhaps you have come noting that in just a few days as well we will be remembering the nine souls that were taken from us ten years ago, while in Bible study and prayer in South Carolina at the Mother Emmanuel Church. We remember their names. Their names are printed in the book and that book dedicated to their lives, in the memory of their lives, as we install the Now and Forever Windows here in the cathedral.

But there are many here who have gathered with uneasiness, with fear, noting the actions, the advocacy, being seen from the streets of California to the steps of Capitol Hill. We are conscious of paying attention to the military maneuverings and the conflicts that are taking place in this very second around the world that continue to fill the never-ending news cycles and airwaves over and over and over again. We’ve come in and heard some, we’ll go out and hear more. Simply put, I’m back to where I started. There’s a lot going on. We are gathered here today in a charged atmosphere of policy debates over cuts that threaten the livelihoods of most of the most vulnerable and marginalized. Cuts that will surely touch Medicaid, SNAP, HeadStart, housing, economics, and other programs. It will change the course of lives and how they live.

But John’s gospel allows us to listen in on the words of Jesus as he prepared his disciples for the days ahead. He prepared them knowing that there would be a need for prophetic confrontation, while others would seek comfort through cultural accommodation. The gospel shares just a few words that Jesus shared with his disciples, even as Jesus himself declared, he has much more that he would want to say. And if I were to just grab a hold of that myself, believe me, in the time that I have that is mine, I have a lot more I could say. Those who know me well know I could go on for a good amount of time.

These words that we have heard are part of a larger conversation or a larger address, known as Jesus’ Farewell Discourse to his disciples before his crucifixion. And I encourage you to go back and read it in your own time in its entirety. As he was preparing his disciples for his imminent departure and the challenging times that they would face after he was gone. Jesus shared his witness with his disciples. And for that matter is sharing his witness with us right now, so that his disciples would understand that while life would be difficult, his followers would be endowed with the authority and the power to transform the world. And turn the world upside down through their knowledge of God, their faith in Jesus and through the power of the Holy Spirit. I can imagine them sitting in that moment. My mind’s eye allows me to see them wondering, questioning, struggling with their dreams and their visions about the future.

I can imagine that crowd struggling and wondering what tomorrow would bring, as they were looking through the blurred lenses of their faith. I don’t have to struggle to look then, I can look right now because there are folk and there are many in this room, who are struggling with the same thing. What will tomorrow bring? What is the afternoon or the morning going to look like? With all that is going on, there’s a lot happening. I’m struggling to see through the blurry lenses that I can see a brighter day. I have been with, and I recently stood with, numerous members of the faith community who felt called to a public witness. And while we were moving, we were praying. While we were praying, we were moving. While we were moving and praying, we were witnessing. And while we were moving, praying and witnessing all the time, we were asking, “God, please speak”. We were asking, “God, please direct”. We were asking, “Spirit, show up and guide us”. During a season like this, we have to ask ourselves, “What should our aim be? What should our goals be and what should happen in our lives?”

Well, I borrow in this moment from here, Abraham Joshua Heschel, who said, “Our goals should be to live life in radical amazement”. Those who call ourselves spiritual, and we claim so many titles today. He says, “Get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that it takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal, everything is credible. Never treat life casually”. “To be spiritual”, he said, “is to be amazed”. Well, let me remind many in here, and I know I’ve got company here this morning that I grew up, of course in the African American Black Baptist Church where I listened to those who gave testimony, the deacons who prayed, and those over generation and generation who stood up and they would declare their amazement in their testimony and their prayer simply by saying, ‘Lord, thank you for waking me up this morning’. ‘Thank you for starting me on my way’. ‘Thank you that last night my bed was not my cooling board and my sheets were not my winding sheet’. ‘Thank you, Lord, for life, for health, for strength’. ‘Thank you that the blood is still running warm in my veins and I’m clothed in my right mind’. ‘You didn’t have to do it but thank you Lord’.

There are a whole lot of us who should be a little more thankful for the air that we’re breathing, to be clothed in our right mind. To say thank you for grace and mercy, because all of us have fallen short yesterday, but have another chance to get it right today. We ought to be thankful that we have all of God’s blessings and provisions. That there are many in here not concerned about what will happen tomorrow because you already have enough for two days, for three days, for years and weeks ahead. But there are some who are struggling right now who are just grateful that God woke ’em up one more time. Here when we look, Jesus speaks to his disciples about truth. A truth found in the good news of Christ that has shaped generations of people. And the role and enduring value of faith for those on the margins, or as Howard Thurman characterizes, ‘those who have their backs against the wall’ in the face of cultural challenge and governmental conflict, should never be taken for granted.

And while I speak out of my own experience, all of us have our backs against the wall right now. Whether or not you realize it, all of of us have our backs against the wall and need some faith. Jesus, like those in the early church was speaking to them. And those in the early church, they held onto their faith in Christ because their faith was not inherited from comfort. It was here inherited and born out of suffering, sharpened by injustice and strengthened through resistance. And yet faith did not simply offer them a way to endure suffering. It offered a vision to imagine what would be beyond this moment. And so I ask you to begin to imagine what your home could look like when you get back, what your family could be if you did a little bit more. What your community could be like if you sacrificed just a little bit, what the world would sound like if we made a little more noise. How much love could be passed from heart to heart and breast to breast, if we spoke to the stranger, welcome those who are called the unlovable, picked up those who have been knocked down, stepped down, pushed out, shoved aside. Faith offers us a vision of what can be, what will be. And it provides us with hope to see not simply what is, but what is possible with God.

I remind you this is a faith on this Juneteenth that has moved from generation to generation within the African American community. It was forged in the back woods, carried out in the brush harbors. It was lifted in valleys low, in places where they said you couldn’t hear nobody pray. It was done in homes and in churches empowered by scriptures. And if I borrow, because I knew she would be here, and she has affected so much of our life, if I even remind you, all of these symbols that are around our own Canon Theologian, reminds us that the cross is God’s confrontation with the world as it is, particularly with unjust systems that lead to crucifixions in every age.

This kind of faith is a hope. This kind of faith reminds us that we can do better, be better, become more. Our faith did not simply offer a way to endure suffering. It offered a vision to imagine the future beyond it. And in my community, when no one would speak for us, the church did. When the courts failed us, the church comforted us. When policies excluded us, the church empowered us. This is not blind optimism. So, you wonder, what does that mean for today? That faith must continue to be both personal and public. It must feed our souls and challenge our systems. It must comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. It must empower our children to see themselves as beloved and part of community. It must build bridges and tear down walls. And yes, even with a lot going on, I still believe that there’s power in the name of Jesus.

I still believe that there’s power in the New Testament gospel. I still believe that we can come together in unity. I still believe that this country can come together in a unity, not by ignoring its past, but by confronting it in truth and walking toward it in justice. I believe that there is a unity where every life is valued, where every truth is spoken and where love leads the way. We believe in a God who makes all things possible. We believe in a Christ who reconciles, and we believe in a Spirit who empowers us to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly. And so I finish where we began if you were paying attention. I finish where we started if you are listening closely. There’s a lot going on. But in growing up in the church, on our way to the communion table, on our way on communion Sunday, there was that hymn that was lifted here today that we sang as we marched down the aisle, that we sang as we were standing together, that we sang as I looked up at those who had gone before me and even looked behind at those who were coming behind me.

That hymn that simply says, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, early in the morning our song shall rise to thee. Holy, Holy, Holy, merciful and mighty, God In three persons, Blessed Trinity. Amen.