Notorious

This week’s readings can be found here, we are using track 2. 

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This week, news broke, that in an Immigration and Customs Enforcement Facility, detainees were sterilized without informed consent. While these allegations have yet to be proven, I’m finding them easy to believe. Given our countries history of abuses aimed at black and brown bodies, given the history of eugenics and forced sterilization, given the separation of children from their families, given…it seems almost a given that this, yet another abuse, must be true. 

 

And, I am exhausted, I am exhausted by this, yet another reminder, that evil is at work in the world. I am exhausted at the reality that, right now, it seems like no effort is enough. No effort seems enough in the face of the evil that divides, that dehumanizes, that exploits, and that corrupts and destroys the creatures of God. No effort seems enough. We are but small individuals in the face of juggernauts of power. What could any of us possibly do to turn the tide? To turn the tide, to bend the arc, to transform the world.

 

And, then, more news. The death of Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg. A slight figure holding fast, a reminder that one voice can be enough. Enough to serve, enough to love, enough to change. She held fast until the end and even her opponents respected her steadfast adherence to the law as a means for justice for all of God’s people. More then exhausted, mourning. Mourning the loss of a woman who secured the hopes of so many, a woman who exemplified a life of faithful service. 

 

She turned, she bent, she transformed, and in doing so, she gave many hope.

 

I wondered if I could speak to the hope she gave without being accused of being partisan or political. I debated the merits of speaking to the news, this news. But, I want to honor the fact that many in our community are in mourning. I want to honor the fact that many in our community are scared. And, when people mourn, and when people are scared, they are to be met with love. Love, regardless. Knowing this, I beg your compassion, not for me, but for your friends. Your friends and fellow parishioners who may be afraid, scared, and who may even be wondering if our democracy can survive the death of a slight, Jewish, justice, who held fast until the end. 

 

So, given the news, given the pain, given the fear, given our faith…

 

I’m going to talk about politics. I’m going to talk about politics because we live in a world where politics dictate who has food and who does not, who goes to prison and who does not, who has a home and who does not, who lives and who does not.  And, given our scripture, it is undeniably a Christian imperative to engage with politics wherever those politics intersect with the lives of the poor, the hungry, the homeless, the children, the aged, and the prisoner. Matthew 25, Micah 6:9, Mark 12:31, Isaiah 1:17, Psalm 82:3, Luke 1:46-55…I can go on, and on, and on.  

 

And, then of course there is our tradition—our baptismal covenant clearly lays out that the pursuit of a Christian life manifests itself in our pursuit of justice, peace, and dignity for every human being. Our baptismal rite which asks us to renounce the evil powers that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God. So, given our scripture, our traditions, the world we are in and our system of governance, and the way in which we utilize political structures—it would seem that Christians cannot avoid politics any more then we can avoid the truth of God’s love for ALL. 

 

Now, that said, I’m going to be clear that Christian political life must be separated from partisan politics.  And I will never endorse or denigrate any particular party or politician from the pulpit. What I will do, is remind us, again and again and again, of our calling to love our neighbor as Christ loves us and to live in such a way that we perpetuate that love and assist in the in-breaking of a new creation. What I will do, is turn to the scriptures, to set our own lives and the challenges before us within the context of God’s salvation history.

 

Let’s begin with Jonah and the crisis facing immigrants and refugees in our communities. 

 

Jonah, of swallowed by the whale fame, has long served as a cautionary tale about what happens when we attempt to refuse our calling…but, when we look beyond the fantastical elements of whale vomit, the story of Jonah offers us an opportunity to see how easy it is to forget who we are, where we’ve come from, our common humanity, and God’s love for all. 

 

For context, Jonah was an early Israelite.

 

The early Israelites shared their ancestry with the Ninevites.

 

But, they had forgotten, Jonah had forgotten. That these people whom he thought so deserving of God’s wrath—were his people too. They were people who shared in the common origins of his own community. They were people, living, dreaming, hoping, doing just as his people lived and dreamed and hoped and did.

 

Does this not seem a familiar story here in the United States, where so many seem to have forgotten that their ancestors were refugees and immigrants too? That those they denigrate, share the story of the ancestors they venerate?

 

Jonah had forgotten. We have forgotten. That we are all, in fact, God’s own. 

 

God’s own sinners, God’s own forgiven, God’s own. And, even when we forget, God remembers. 

 

Jonah forgot, that they were him and he was they, and in condemning them, he condemns himself. In this, the story of Jonah isn’t about Nineveh, it’s about Jonah’s own need for transformation. It is about Jonah’s redemption as he faces the truth of God’s love for the people Jonah would abandon. The story can also be read as a story about who we are now, the nationalism and America first sentiment that pervades our politics, the needs of immigrants and refugees, and the need for the sharing of resources across borders for the benefit of all of God’s beloved children.

 

Maybe we’re Jonah. Maybe we’re Ninevites. But, regardless, this is our story and Jonah’s transformation is an invitation to our own.

 

The repentance of one redeems the many. The repentance of one, for the redemption of the world. 

 

Woah. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by this. By this truth that it starts with one. Noah. Jonah. Mary. Jesus. One person. One person is enough. Is more then enough. 

 

David beat Goliath. Noah built the ark. Mary said, “yes”. Jesus changed everything. 

 

And, I am strengthened by their witness. I am strengthened by the truth of who we can be. I am strengthened by who we can be when we recognize that we can be enough—enough to change the world. It won’t happen all at once, it may not be evident in our lifetime, but change will happen.

 

We can turn, we can bend, we can transform—because, with God’s help, the slight and unimposing can face down giants and change the world. Lincoln, Martin, Ruth, Malala, Henrietta, Sojourner, Katherine, Florence, Greta…the list goes on and on and on. And, as I consider the names of those who’ve risen to the occasion, I find my own offering pales in comparison. How often I think, my effort is not enough, that what I have is not enough. Anxious and overwhelmed…

 

Which is where I find comfort in the Gospel we have heard proclaimed today.  

 

The Gospel with it’s good news of God’s grace—a grace that recognizes even our poorest effort, even our last ditch, show up at the last-minute effort, is enough. A grace that takes our imperfect effort, if we’re willing to offer it, to do great things. It doesn’t matter if we show up late, what matters is that we show up at all. Late is better then never, so accept God’s invitation, and show up!

 

I find myself smiling as I re-read this last bit. Because, there is still time to show up and the last minute, last ditch effort, was enough. It worked out in the end. It worked out in the end. It will work out in the end.

 

Because Jonah’s transformation is our own. 

 

Amen.