Homily for Sunday, June
25, 2017 Graves Chapel
Having
spent my working life teaching and mentoring young adults, I have often found
myself over the years attempting to see the world through their eyes, to
understand the events of the day as they might. Sometimes, students have sought
my counseling in troubled times. These days, I am not sure how to see my own
way through the confusion and turmoil of our world. When I heard that students
and faculty at the University of Virginia held a vigil in memory of Otto
Wambier, I realized I may know some of the students at the vigil, even though I
did not know Otto. What could I say to them to help them make sense of his death?
As
I pondered these things, I came across some words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer that I
found helpful. Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor in Germany during WWII, who was
arrested and ultimately executed for his part in a plot to remove Hitler from
power. From his prison he wrote, “The poet Stifter once said, ‘Pain is a holy
angel, who shows treasures to people which would otherwise remain forever
hidden; through him, people have become greater than through all the joys of
the world.’ It must be so [Bonhoeffer mused], and I tell myself this in my
present situation.” In my eyes, Bonhoeffer was one of the great heroes of the
20th Century, and though it saddens me to think of him in his prison cell
awaiting his death, I am glad to know that he came to an understanding of pain
as the gift of a “holy angel.” What does pain give to us in our times?
Marked
as this world now is by war and conflict, by the largest refugee population in
human history, surely we Christians are called to do something to alleviate so
much pain. Richard Rohr had these words to say about Bonhoeffer’s gift: “Once
we Christians can accept that God is in all situations, and that God can and
will use even bad situations for good, then everything and everywhere becomes
an occasion for good and an encounter with God.” Rohr and Bonhoeffer challenge
us to live out our baptismal vow of seeking and serving Christ in all persons,
even when the situation may frighten us. In that situation, we will encounter
God. As Rohr himself concluded, “In other words, everything that happens is
potentially sacred if we allow it to be.”
When
I read the lessons for today, I wondered if I were really up to the challenge
they present a sermon-writer. I thought about skipping the lessons and writing
on another topic altogether. But when I saw what Jesus had to say about fear, I
decided I must do what I can to interpret the scripture as He instructs me. In
fact, I believe these passages have much to say to us at this moment in human
history about pain and opportunity.
In
the lesson from Genesis, the jealous Sarah demands that her husband Abraham
banish Hagar and Ishmael. (If you are unfamiliar with the back-story, Sarah was
old and barren, and she told her husband Abraham to lie with the servant Hagar
so he would have a son. Ishmael was that son. Now, after a visitation from
angels, Sarah has produced a legitimate male heir, Isaac. She is afraid this
older, illegitimate son of Abraham will deny her son his birthright.) The scene
is tragic and terrifying—a young woman and child are sent into the desert with
scant provisions and no one to protect them. Abraham loves Ishmael, and Sarah's
request upsets him, but God reassures Abraham that all shall be well with these
words: “Do not be distressed because of the boy and because of your slave
woman; whatever Sarah says to you, do as she tells you, for it is through Isaac
that offspring shall be named for you. As for the son of the slave woman, I
will make a nation of him ALSO, because he is your offspring.” A few verses
later, when Hagar and the boy Ishmael are near death in the desert, Hagar cries
out to God, and he responds to her in words very similar to those he gave to
Abraham: “What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice
of the boy where he is. Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand,
for I will make a great nation of him.”
Who
are these two great nations, the offspring of Abraham? The children of Israel
are Abraham’s descendants through his son Isaac. Abraham’s descendants through
his son Ishmael we know as the children of Islam. We are reminded that Jews, Christians,
and Muslims share a very fundamental ancestry through our professed faiths. How
did things become so challenging among us? As I considered that question, I was
reminded of the reason why Abraham was held in such high regard by God. When
Abraham obeyed God’s instructions and took the son of his old age to a
mountaintop to sacrifice him, Abraham passed the most difficult test of faith
anyone could be given. Could it be possible to see this event from Abraham’s
perspective, as the holy angel of pain? Was the near-sacrifice a way that
Abraham also tested God?
Years
before, when God called Abraham and sent him on his journey to discover his
“promised land,” God said to the young Abram, “Go from your country and your
kindred and your father’s house to the land I will show you, and I will make of
you a great nation…Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to
count them. So shall your descendants be.” Now that Abraham is a very old man,
and he finally has the long-awaited son, what must he have thought when God
instructed him to kill that son? Surely a part of Abraham must have thought
something like, ‘Well, we will see about this. God has taken his good old time
fulfilling his promise to me, and now he is going to take my son away? It must
be about time for God to show me I can trust him. A great nation indeed!”
So
Abraham takes his young son and the wood for the sacrifice up on Mt. Moriah and
prepares to follow God’s orders. When Isaac asks, “Where is the lamb for the
burnt offering,” Abraham replies, “God himself will provide the lamb for a
burnt offering, my son.” In those words, could it be that Abraham challenges
God to offer evidence of God’s trustworthiness to his old, faithful servant? An
angel calls from heaven and says, “Abraham, Abraham, do not lay your hand on
the boy or do anything to him.” God stays the hand of Abraham, indeed providing
a ram for the sacrifice, and in this way, each proves his faithfulness to the
other. God has used what seemed to be a terrible situation for his own good
purposes.
Some
2000 years after the life of Abraham, one of his descendants, the child of
Israel we worship as Jesus, appears on the scene. In today’s lesson from Matthew, Jesus tells
his disciples what he expects of them, also reminding them not to be afraid. Then,
he offers some of his most challenging words: “Do not think that I have come to
bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” How do
we reconcile these words about a sword with the Savior we know as the Prince of
Peace? As I grappled with answering that question, the collect of today
provided me the beginning of an answer: “Lord, make us have perpetual love and
reverence for your holy Name, for you never fail to help and govern those whom
you have set upon the sure foundation of your lovingkindness.”
Even when he wields a sword, we believe that Jesus
works from a sure foundation of loving kindness. Our first hymn today, the
decidedly martial tune, “Lead on O King Eternal,” offers confirmation of this
idea in the second verse: “For not with
swords loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums, but deeds of love and mercy,
the heavenly kingdom comes.”
Then,
my dear husband David reminded me of the words from a favorite collect of ours here at the chapel,
the Collect for Peace found on page 815: “Eternal God, in whose perfect kingdom
no sword is drawn but the sword of righteousness, no strength known but the
strength of love.” The sword of Jesus is a sword of righteousness, wielded with
great courage, great caution, and great love. Our world may not yet be His
“perfect kingdom,” but we would do well to remember in all that we undertake that
it is through that kind of force that the ultimate battle is won.
I
think again of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and of the only war of the last century that
has been called by some a “righteous war.” Bonhoeffer stood up to the evils of
Nazi Germany and paid the price with his life. There is also an inspiring story
(from a book called Night of the Long
Knives) about some British soldiers who were Japanese prisoners during
World War II. I quote here: “Every morning the Japanese commandant
would line up the British officers. As he called each name, the officer would
step forward one pace and he would beat him. The prisoner would then step back
and the next person would step forward. One day, when the next name was called,
the officer who had just been beaten stepped forward again. Because of this
simple act of courage, the commandant lost face and never did it again. The
British officer played moral judo with an injustice and defeated it.”
Where and how, in this
troubled time, are we called to step forward and deny the forces of injustice?
How are we called to make peace when making peace is the last thing we want to
do? Where and how can we find common ground with our enemies, whether those perceived
“enemies” are members of a different political party or the other children of
Abraham called Muslims? When we make the effort to wield the Lord’s sword of
righteousness, we truly love our neighbors as ourselves. When we recognize pain as the gift of a “holy
angel,” may we be open to learn what the angel has to teach us. May we find
ourselves being instruments of that angel when we try to bridge conflicts or
alleviate any suffering we encounter,
accepting that God is in all situations and can use us to make good things come
from bad. Isn’t that what the British officer did when he stepped out to
receive another man’s beating from the Japanese commandant? Isn’t that what our Lord did for
us when he defeated the powers of evil by dying on the cross?
May we be instruments of
your sacred peace in your loving name, Lord Christ. Lead on, O King Eternal. Amen.
