Would You Harbor Me? Two Rivers Unitarian Universalist Easter Sunday April 8, 2012

Transcription

1 Would You Harbor Me? Two Rivers Unitarian Universalist Easter Sunday April 8, 2012 Reading Risk the Ocean by Rumi Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, I'll do nothing until I can be sure. Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean. Music Would You Harbor Me? By Ysaye Barnwell Would you harbor me? Would I harbor you? Would you harbor me? Would I harbor you? Would you harbor a Christian, a Muslim, a Jew, A heretic, convict, or spy? Would you harbor a runaway woman or child, A poet, a prophet, a king? Would you harbor an exile or a refugee, A person living with AIDS? Would you harbor a Tubman, a Garret, a Truth, A fugitive or a slave? Would you harbor a Haitian, Korean, or Czech, A lesbian or a gay? Would you harbor me? Would I harbor you? Sermon Would You Harbor Me? by Rev. Gretchen Haley A number of years ago, there was a teacher who many called savior, who many turned to for hope and protection. But this teacher was killed, right in the heart of his calling. He was just 39. When he died, mourners everywhere beat their chest with rage, followers fell to the ground in despair, and all the world left behind could not help but wonder why, and what next, and what does it all mean. And, when he died, those who had knew him gathered, and one after another swore that he was not gone, that he was with them, present still. That his presence had a grip on their lives, his presence would remain with them and carry them through the storms of life. He died long ago, and yet even today, his life persists. I join my voice with a longstanding chorus of testimony: his life goes on. He goes on, I swear it. And all of us here this morning, we would all join our voices in such a chorus - sing along to such a resistance melody - His death did not defeat him, did not defeat what he came to do, did not defeat his courage, his light, his love. 1

2 Forty- four years ago this week, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot. Fighting for workers rights, trying to protect others lives, he lost his own. I know, you thought I was telling the story of another man whose death - and persistent life - we gather to honor this morning - just a few years younger than Dr. King when he died. Followers of both men call them saviors, kings, prophets, and turn to them for hope, for comfort, for healing. And those who pursue their stories, do so in search of salvation - from the root - salve - to heal and to sooth, to make safe, to restore to health, to restore to wholeness. Whether we pursue it by way of the life story of a man who sought liberation for oppressed people 2,000 years ago - or the life story of a man who did so 44 years ago - or if we pursue it by other means entirely - in this risky, difficult world, this broken world, we all find ourselves seeking salvation enamored with the signals of security, the accessories of safety, the promise of protection. Jesus saves, or education does. Martin's dreams will protect us, or car alarms will. Enough money, or high enough gates. External hard drives, or now, the cloud. Seat belts, health insurance, big buildings to keep away those who have shown themselves dangerous from those of us who seem safe, at least for now. When the seas are rough, we all go seeking harbor. And the seas, they are always rough. When the storm comes, we cannot help but build our shelters and steady our grip. The storm, it's always around the bend. And so we all work hard to surround ourselves with safe harbors. These are not tools for some other town, for some rare time. Strong and steadfast though we may be, courageous and persistent, bold and brilliant, we know, such a walk as this life requires a vigilance of protection, requires routine access to the shore, places where we might let down the anchor, rest - places, so that we might rise again. We all want to know, for sure, we're going to be all right. We will get that job we are waiting for. We will have enough money. Our health will return. We will fall in love, or stay in love. Our friends will not fail us, we will not fail them. Our minister will stay with us. Or won t. We all need to know - we're ok. Change is so fast and persistent, we just need to know - we need to feel - we are safe. We have ground to stand on. We have to know. We are safe. We have to know - What will finally make us safe? A few months back, I was headed over the pass, feeling a little nervous about the drive ahead, but confident I'd be ok. The car had just been tuned up, and the weather gods had been remarkably compliant with my schedule all year. I figured, it would probably all be fine. 2

3 That morning, more than one of you called to see if I'd left yet, you had heard there was snow, and I should get on the road. But, I delayed, finished the sermon, ran a few errands. It only took until Idaho Springs for me to realize how wrong I had been, and to realize I should have heeded those urgings to get out of town earlier. The snow was coming down thick, and the roads were slick and the air bitter cold. I slid a bit in Vail - which was terrifying - but it wasn't until Eagle that I started to wonder if I might not make it. Eagle is usually the point when you can breathe a sigh of relief in such situations, but not this time. This time, the snow was coming down and it was one of those where the more I shone my headlights, the less I could see. One of those where you hope the road isn t about to turn because you ve decided to go straight. All I could think, as I headed into the canyon, and darkness began to join up with the snow to wipe out any remaining visibility was - well, mostly I thought - I m going to die. But besides that, I thought about how foolish I had been, how negligent I had been in considering the signs. I left with this great sense of security, this sure confidence, only to head straight into this great danger. Next week, we re going to be watching and reflecting on one of my favorite talks from TED - Brene Brown s The Power of Vulnerability. But it was another TED Talk that came to mind as I headed into the canyon. This one is called: The Security Mirage." 1 It features Bruce Schneier. He's an internationally renowned security technologist and author. The words from this "security guru" came flashing back to me as I began to crawl my way into the canyon, my stomach in knots, my hands gripping the wheel, and the snow coming down. Believing I was definitely going to die, right? He says: "Security is two different things: A feeling, and a reality. And they are different. You can feel secure, even if you're not. And you can be secure, even if you don't feel it. We respond to the feeling of security, and not the reality." It's like, we all know that you are safer in a plane than in a car. But it's rare to talk about fear of driving. Fear of flying? Pretty common. Schneier introduces this great term - Security Theatre - for the things in life which "perform" for us a sense of safety so that we can feel safe. Airport security, it turns out, are highly skilled performance troupes in Security Theatre. One funny thing about Security Theatre, is that with a successful performance, we actually become more safe - in reality. 1 security- mirage- bruce- schneier- on- ted- com/ 3

4 Last week, I offered one definition of faith - acting as if something is true, as a way of making it so. By holding faith in our security- acting as if we are secure - we make ourselves secure. Trust breeds conditions worthy of trust. The Rev. Marlin Lavanhar, minister at our largest UU congregation, in Tulsa Oklahoma, tells the story of one of his friends, Tony Larsen, who rather than passing the Peace of Christ at the designated time in his church service, was wont to say, May the unrest of Christ be with you, for so much of what Jesus spoke about and how he lived his life was not comforting, and did not give a sense of security or peace, especially for those who most clung to a sense of their own infallibility. 2 "If you wish to be whole, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor. Really? "The first will be last, the last will be first." Hm. "Love your enemies, and bless those who curse you." Ugh. The one who is great is the one who serves. Serves? And then there was the way he acted - hanging out with prostitutes - or women at all. Calling out those in power for their hypocrisy. These are not necessarily the most reassuring pieces of advice, not at all the kinds of things that if done or said today would win you a lot of confidence or votes of satisfaction based on your capacity to protect, or save. In fact, it might be more accurate to declare, Jesus doesn't save! Jesus makes things risky, dangerous, unstable, unprotected. Jesus doesn't save! 2 I encountered this while listening to the CD of sermons from All Souls on yet another drive from Carbondale to Denver; the one that has this story can be found in text form at it.pdf. 4

5 You know, I wrote this article for the PI this weekend, and I was really tempted to title it Jesus Doesn't Save. Carri talked me out of it. 3 But it's true - when we really look at the way he lived his life, the way he asked us to live our lives - Jesus doesn't save, and Martin Luther King, he doesn't save either, and Buddha doesn't save, and Harriet Tubman 4 doesn't save, and Sojourner Truth 5, no salvation there, and Cesar Chavez 6, and Susan B. Anthony, 7 and Alice Walker 8 and Cornel West 9 - none of them aim to make any one person feel safe, settled, or secure. Actually - they all lived (live) their lives in ways that made things scary, and dangerous for those who follow them - like that Tree of Knowledge we talked about last week - eating its fruit opens up our eyes to a dangerous, vulnerable reality. These so- called saviors are all filled with a deep, abiding unrest, and not only that, but they seem to want to spread that unrest to all of us. We don't like this. This does not appeal to our well- honed sense of customer satisfaction. We want our leaders to make us feel good. We want our teachers to make us feel steady, and safe, and secure. We want them to be star performers in Security Theatre. And so the empty tomb of Easter becomes assurance of ultimate safety, and the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. gets reduced to the I Have a Dream speech. And just a few quotes from that speech. We trade a feel of safety for the reality. A feel of salvation for a few, for a reality of salvation for us all. And yet we know, in this kind of security theatre, there is no real safety, no real protection from the wildness of life's storm, for these are artificial harbors, and the membership is limited, and the shoreline shallow. "There is an old rabbinic parable about how all will be called before God. And God will ask, Where are your wounds? We have no wounds, we will reply. And God will say to us, Was then nothing worth fighting for? 3 Here s how that article turned out soj.htm story/biography.php

6 And was there nothing to love?" 10 Real Salvation - salvation in this life - it is not found in comfortable ways. A new day begins with the end of the old. Our wounds are just the beginning of our healing. Real salvation - universal salvation - justice for all It does not come in comfortable ways. It takes a kind of willing uncertainty. A willing risk, a ceding of control, a profound humility, and yes, a great unrest. And most of all, universal salvation in this life requires a great leap of faith - here's another definition for you - faith is a belief in things unseen. Salvation in this life for all requires we believe that though we may feel unstable, the greater reality is we are held in love, though we may feel uncomfortable, we are held in light, and though we may feel unsure, by following this path of courageous love, we are creating together a path of real safety, real security - true harbor in the ocean of this life for all. These people we look to as heroes, saviors - Jesus, Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, 11 Susan B. Anthony, whoever you hold in your heart as having stood up for justice and truth - we can look at their lives and know - they did not live their life close to the shore. They lived courageously, loved bravely, and invited others to do the same. Along the way their hearts were broken as they faced the realities of the world around them, and they took on real wounds as they stared into the faces of those who the world had cast aside - which is your neighbor. No need to go searching in another country. We all feel cast off at one time or another. Turn to your right. Turn to your left. And know there you will find - castaways. Broken hearted and looking for shore. Just as importantly these people we look to as heroes, saviors - they did none of this without the support of what we call a "community of resistance." Rebecca Parker - President of our UU Seminary, Starr King School for the Ministry - describes these communities as "countercultural habitations in which people learn ways to survive and thrive that can resist and even sometimes transform an unjust dominant culture." 12 There are no single heroes, no individuals able to act in such brave and bold ways - these so- called individual acts of salvation have been made possible through the support and accountability offered by being a part of a community. A community of resistance who has promised to walk together, to be present through the trials and heartbreak, to help one another resist the feeling of security that prevents the reality of safety for all, and to help each 10 I encountered this tale in Rev. Mike Morran's A Bright and Spirited Path Curriculum From A House for Hope: The Promise of Progressive Religion for the Twenty- First Century, by John Buehrens and Rebecca Parker, p 37. 6

7 other keep their personal agendas and egos in check. This is maybe the hardest, and most critical part of a community of resistance. Passover, Easter, the season of springtime - these are times for hope. These are the days for remembering that life goes on, that rebirth is possible, that death will not have the last word. My message of hope to you, my friends, is that we liberate ourselves - our world - from the feelings of security that many have molded onto the story of Easter, and instead live into the real security offered us in the way this one Jewish carpenter and teacher lived his life. Risky, uncertain, and filled with open- hearted love, grounded in a community of resistance, a community of covenant, and love. My hope on this Easter morning, this spring morning, is that we will all rejoice that Jesus did not die to save us. For we know - violence is never liberating, never redemptive. But life. Persistent life. Courageous open- hearted life. His life Our Lives can be pathways for real salvation. We risk ourselves, risk our hearts, we create together these communities of resistance, and step boldly into the call of Beloved Community - today, and all days. May it be so, and amen. 7