January 18, 2009 Second Sunday after Epiphany,
Martin Luther King Jr. Sunday
First Congregational Church in Thetford, Vermont, UCC
Psalm 126; Luke 15:11-32
The other day I told my brother Peter that I hoped this service would be
one of celebrating and rejoicing because of the triumph of Martin Luther King
Jr.’s dream in the election of Barack Obama. Peter has dedicated his life to
working for social justice. He was one of the founders of the socially responsible
investing movement and co-authored the first book about it, entitled Ethical
Investing. His company helps people and institutions around the world find
investments that meet their moral and ethical standards. I thought Peter would
appreciate the idea of celebrating and rejoicing, so his response surprised me. He
said he is grieving over all the setbacks to social justice of the past eight years far
more than he is rejoicing at the triumph of Obama’s election.
At first I thought he was just being Eeyore, looking for any reason to be
glum, but then I realized that he is absolutely right. As wondrous and truly
significant as the election of an African-American who embraces the spirit of
Martin Luther King Jr. is, it does not make up for the increased poverty and
inequality and racism and violence of the last eight years.
So why do I still insist on celebrating and rejoicing? The answer is, as the
father of the prodigal son said, because we have to.
Think of the United States of America as the prodigal son. Our nation
began with a rich inheritance it received from its founding fathers, namely the
principle of all people being created equal. Then it went off like the prodigal son
and squandered the precious gift it had received. Racism, and all the violence of
oppression and poverty and inequality that racism inflicted, reduced America in
some ways to a condition worse than swine. The selfish, heartless grabbing for
more by the haves of America while neglecting the needs and rights of the have-
nots was like the prodigal son’s drunken reveling, devouring the founding
father’s property with prostitutes, as Jesus put it.
America’s electing Barack Obama president is like the prodigal son
deciding to come home. It doesn’t fix everything, but it is a huge step. The
prodigal son had a brother like my brother Peter, who remained faithful to the
founding father’s vision all along, and who thought it was not fitting to celebrate
so unconditionally the return of one who had done so much damage. The father
says in reply, “But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours
was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."
The prodigal son’s brother may have been right by the rules of common
sense and fairness, but not by the Christ-like impulse of unconditional
forgiveness and love. This was the spirit that we saw moving the hearts of people
across the United States and the World on election night. As the singer-
songwriter Ani DiFranco put it,
When you were elected,
there was a global wave of joy…
And we poured into the streets,
and we danced, and we cheered,
And the neighborhood was a neighborhood
as it hadn’t been in years.
All eyes meeting, filled with tears.
Yes we prayed you were coming,
and then we saw you were here…
Oh, President Obama, it’s an honor just to say it.
I used to hide my passport, now I want to display it.
Thank you for democracy;
through you it’s resurrected.
Yes, thank you for our basic decency;
in you it’s reflected.
Oh, thank you America,
for being more than I expected.
Yes we can, yes we can, yes we can, yes we can…
(This is a rough transcribing of a live performance of the song.)
Many Americans who shared Ani DiFranco’s shame when they traveled or
met people from abroad in recent years suddenly changed their feeling about
America completely after the election. This is in keeping not just with Jesus’
teaching about the unconditional forgiveness we should have, as God does, when
someone turns back, but also with the wisdom of the Hebrew Psalm. The people
of Israel had seen their land and homes and sacred temple destroyed, they had
been carried off into captivity, they had been slaves for generations. They knew
suffering beyond compare, yet the Psalm says, “When God restored the fortunes
of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
and our tongue with shouts of joy…May those who sow in tears, reap with shouts
of joy. Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home
with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.”
Here is perhaps the greatest reason for us to rejoice today: the election of
Barack Obama is a harvest grown in part out of seeds this congregation has sown.
I am not talking just about those of us who voted for him or even those who
worked for his campaign. I am talking about Helen Mac Lam, who has been
sowing the seeds of racial equality and uprooting the choking, noxious weeds of
racism since she was a girl. I am thinking of the countless seeds sown by Eleanor
Zue, who has been a witness for peace and justice carrying the mission flag of
this congregation for more than a quarter century. And the seeds sown by
Valerie Miller whose Thetford Chamber Singers concert of freedom songs over
ten years ago brought a tremendous infusion of energy to our Martin Luther King
Jr. Sundays, an energy that has rippled our from here in ways we will never
know. And the seeds sown by the two who read the words of King and Obama
today, Christina Robinson and Scot Zens, who have done so much in recent years
to help this church spread the spirit of Martin Luther King Jr. And the seeds
sown by Pril Hall, Joyce McKeeman, Linda Weiss and others who have been
working for marriage equality. This whole congregation has done its share,
sowing seeds every time we have sung the South African freedom songs and let
them inspire and realign our hearts with Christ’s liberating force. This summer
we sowed seeds as we brought the African-American pastor, Rhonda Myers, into
this community for ten weeks, and put our signboards out front advertising our
discussions of racial issues. Every time we overcome fear or negativity with
faith and hope, every time we shine our light of love and peace, we sow the kind
of seeds that have led to the good harvest we are reaping in America this week.
We who went out weeping bearing our seeds for sowing are coming home today
with shouts of joy, carrying our sheaves.
So if there is anyone out there who still wonders why you have a smile on
your face this week, or if any ask why they heard such reckless abandon of
jubilation coming out of our church today, or if any ask why we danced and sang
for joy on Inauguration Day, tell them it was because we had to. Tell them our
prodigal son came home and Jesus told us we had to celebrate and rejoice. Tell
them the seeds we had sown with weeping bore fruit at last and the Psalm told us
we had to reap with shouts of joy. Tell them that Martin Luther King Jr. had a
dream, and this week one impossible, miraculous piece of that dream came true.
And we are so happy, because if we can do this, then maybe we really can create
the beloved community of God’s realm on earth. We are so happy, because we
are not ever going to turn back now, we are not ever going to give up the fight for
justice and peace, and we can imagine now what miraculous harvests we may yet
live to reap by courageously sowing the seeds of Christ’s love, and by the grace
of God.
Let us pray in silence…
Sermon 01/18/2009