The Walls Between Us: July 21, 2024

 Year B, Pentecost 9                                              Ephesians 2:11-22                                                           Over a week ago (this was before the shooting) I was listening to a podcast about the election. One person asked what it would take to bring the country together again.  The other person answered, it would have to be a crisis---like 9-11.  Then the person went on to talk about how the country was unified after 9-11, at least for a little while.  I thought, is that really the only way to bring unity?  A terrorist attack that killed over 1000 people and launched a war? Is the only way for our country to be unified to be against someone outside our nation? Then, this Saturday a presidential candidate and former president was shot. A person nearby was killed and two others were critically wounded.  Immediately people called for unity and to lower the temperature of the vitriol that was being spewed out.  I thought, well this might last a few days.  I don’t think we even made it 24 hours.  Let me be clear that I am not blaming one side or the other because it’s coming from all sides.

This reading from Ephesians can seem irrelevant at first glance.  Once the Bible starts talking about circumcision, most Christians tune out.  When Paul referred to those circumcised, he was talking about Jewish people. When he referred to the uncircumcised, that was everyone else.  Circumcision was a physical sign of a very real commitment that the Jewish people made.  At this time (about 70AD), the division between the circumcised and uncircumcised was drastic.  There were few interactions between a Jew and a non-Jew, and those interactions were superficial and limited.  There were no meals together, no inter-marriage, no friendships.

           In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul was saying that this barrier (as impermeable as it seemed) was no longer relevant or necessary because Jesus died on the cross for all.  They were no longer Jew and no longer Gentile.  They were Christians, followers of Christ and that is all that mattered.  Paul wrote, “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is the hostility between us.”  A lot of people have tried to figure out what wall he was referring to.  Was it a real wall? Was it the wall that divided the temple from the outer courts?  Was it a wall between heaven and earth? 

I am not sure why anyone is debating this as the text is clear.  It’s the hostility between us.  There is no real wall.  Humans have manufactured walls through fear, jealously, anger, and apathy. The walls were created by humans and  for humans. Unfortunately we build pretty good walls, even when they aren’t physical.  That is why Jesus had to live as one of us and then sacrifice himself on the cross. He had to show us what it was to love without walls.   

            “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.” Hearing about the blood of Christ has the same effect on some of us as hearing the word circumcision.  In many Christian communities, there has been an overemphasis on the blood of Jesus.  Some people and groups have attributed magic like qualities to the body and blood of Jesus.  It is the opposite of magical.  The blood of Jesus, and the broken body of Jesus are reminders of Jesus’ sacrifice for each one of us.  Jesus did not make the sacrifice for only one group or one country.  Jesus sacrificed for all of us so that those who were far off would be brought together.

           In this text, Paul wrote, “(Jesus) is our peace.” One of the most achingly beautiful ironies of the Christian faith is that the way Jesus embodied peace was to be executed by the Roman Empire.  We cannot be sure exactly why the Romans executed Jesus.  However, it is most likely because they were afraid that he would inspire people to revolt.  They recognized Jesus as a leader and one who could inspire the masses. The Roman Empire maintained peace through oppression.  They killed the people who threatened their rule.  Jesus’ mere existence threatened their rule. The irony is that this violent sacrifice that Jesus made paved the way for real peace, not peace maintained through violence and fear, but real peace.

           Jesus taught us what that could be. Yet in light of what happened last weekend or the 327 people who are shot daily in the United States alone, I don’t know that we have learned the lesson we were meant to learn. Recently a clergy friend of mine told me she had someone request that they stop exchanging the peace.  She said that they still wanted her to proclaim the peace, but didn’t want the interaction.  And this was not because of germs (although that’s a perfectly valid reason to do a wave instead of a handshake) but because the interaction was simply unnecessary.  That is perfect illustration of how we want peace in our nation.  We want someone to proclaim it, but we don’t actually want the interaction that would enable it.

          I am not exactly sure what that interaction looks like.  But I am sure it’ not between a pundit and their audience or a politician and their political party.  It should be between those who are not already in agreement.  How can we possibly dismantle the walls that are between us if we are too busy throwing rocks over them and then ducking as we await the return fire?

          We celebrate that Christ Church was a place where the signers of the Declaration of Independence and the framers of the constitution prayed.  And I love that.  But they also argued---vehemently.  They argued over who would lead the first prayer for the continental congress. They argued whether there should be a prayer to begin sessions.  They didn’t see these arguments as a sign that they should stop discussing.  It was an opportunity. We liked to think that everyone in our church was pro-independence, but they weren’t.  And when the Civil war came, they were divided then as well.  But here’s what the church has always been pretty good at, coming together in prayer even when we don’t agree.

We celebrate Holy Communion every Sunday.  One of the things we do in communion is we remember the sacrifice that Jesus made for us 2000 years ago.  Jesus knows that humans are fickle and tend to forget things. That is why he asked his disciples to share the bread and wine in memory of him.  Because not only do we remember the sacrifice when we celebrate communion, we come to this table together. Just for a few minutes, we remember that Jesus died so we could dismantle the walls and rethink what community is, what it could be.

Consider all of those who have gathered together at this altar over the years, people who gave disagreed about so many things. Our altar stands as a reminder of what we are called to do as Christians—to come together. Now our church probably has more people who agree than not.  But if you do know someone who is on the other side of the political spectrum (or maybe just a few notches over), offer to pray with them (and don’t say “I’ll pray for you” in that slightly passive aggressive way some people are known to do)—actually pray with them. 

I understand that sitting down and talking to someone who you don’t agree with is hard and I will admit that there are people in my family I can’t talk to about politics, but what if we started to pray with people? I understand, not everyone is the praying sort, but some are. I bet that’s scarier to most Episcopalians than actually talking about politics. If you can’t do it out load, do it silently.  It probably won’t change  them, but it can soften your heart just a little. It might lower that wall. It might bring you some of that peace that Jesus promised so many years ago.  It doesn’t matter where we are on the political spectrum, we all need more peace.

A time for action: July 14, 2024

 Year B, Pentecost 8                                                                       Mark 6:14-29                                                 During Advent, we hear the story of John’s the Baptist’s miraculous conception and birth…usually a few weeks before the story of Jesus’ miraculous conception and birth.  The miracle of John’s conception is that his parents were older and had long since given up on the idea of having a child. The circumstances were different for Jesus’ conception, but the parallels are hard to miss.  The Gospel of Mark doesn’t include the story of either John or Jesus’ miraculous conception and birth. Mark just left those out.  For Mark, the way to know Jesus, and maybe John as well, was through his death and sacrifice.  While Mark is the shortest Gospel, the story of John’s death is fairly extensive. It’s also unusual because it’s one of only three scenes in the entire Gospel of Mark, where Jesus isn’t present.  So why---why would Mark feel the need to include this rather gory story? Does it teach a lesson? Does it help us understand Jesus better? I don’t think so.

          One of the mistakes we can easily make when reading the Bible is assuming that the stories are morality tales---that every story can help us differentiate between right and wrong, just and unjust.  Yet in this story, the good guy gets killed and there are no consequences for the gruesome killing.  There is a reason that it doesn’t appear in many children’s bibles—at least not the ones I have seen.  There is also a reason we hear a lot of sermons about John’s birth and very few about his death.  It’s an odd and disturbing story. However, for Mark, the death and the sacrifice of Jesus and John are incredibly important to our faith and it’s helpful to look at the parallels between the two.

John was killed by Herod Antipas. There were a number of Herods in that time and it would be easy to confuse Herod Antipas with the Herod who ruled when Jesus was born.  That was Herod the Great. The Herod in our reading today is his son.  He had less power than his father because he was only in charge of a quarter of his father’s kingdom.  Despite the fact that Mark called him King Herod, that was not his title. He was not a king.  He wanted to be a king and even petitioned the Roman Emperor for that title, but he never got it. 

We can see from our reading that he wasn’t a strong leader.  He clearly had some respect for John and even liked listening to him, despite the fact that John openly condemned him for his marriage to his current wife who he stole from his step brother.  The basis of John’s critique was that marrying your brother’s wife would have been against Jewish law.  Even to non-Jews, this marriage was considered immoral because Herod divorced his wife so he could marry his brother’s wife. 

Yet despite the fact that Herod liked John and considered him a holy man, he was easily trapped by not only his wife’s manipulations, but his own need to please and his fear of looking bad in front of his guests.  The text says, “The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for his guests, he did not want to refuse her.” That means that he didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of his friends and the important people of the community.  He lacked fortitude. An historian named Josephus who wrote in the first century, wrote about John the Baptist’s death.  According to Josephus, Herod was worried that John was too powerful and was a threat to his own power.  Herod was an insecure man and a weak leader.

Jesus’ death was a little more complicated…perhaps just because we have a lot more information.  There were numerous groups of people conspiring to kill him.  Yet in the end, the person who made the decision was another Roman appointee---Pilate.  Pilate is depicted as man who was also swayed by the crowds. The Gospels portray him as not wanting to crucify Jesus, but being convinced by the Jewish authorities and the crowd.  Some Gospels seem to indicate that he was trapped and controlled by the Jewish leadership. The reality is that Pilate could have done whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to listen to the Jewish leadership. He simply didn’t have the backbone to stand up to the mob. He too was insecure and anxious about the threat to his authority.

          The bad news is that there is no shortage of examples of weak, insecure and immoral leaders today.  It would be tempting to read this story of the death of John and say, “Well political leadership has always been corrupt, what can we mere mortals do about it?” It’s true John was killed. Nobody could have stopped that from happening.  But let’s not forget the last line in our reading for today.  “When (John’s) disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.” 

Imagine the kind of courage that must have required.  John was killed because he challenged the authority of a powerful and volatile leader.  His disciples must have known that in claiming his body, they were claiming their devotion to him. It was a risky move.  While we hear little of John’s followers in the rest of the Gospel, we know from other sources that they didn’t go away.  Their commitment didn’t wane and that must have been extremely dangerous.  This was an act of defiance and faith.  Where Herod showed weakness and fear.  John’s disciples showed courage and love.  In the face of corruption they refused to be corrupted.

          Mark doesn’t tell us Jesus’ reaction to the news of John’s death.  Right after this story Jesus takes his disciples to a deserted place.  Some think they went to this deserted place to rest, but my guess is they were also grieving.  And they might have been seeking a safe place.  Jesus knew his death was inevitable, but he also knew he had more to do and this was not the time for him to die. He understood that the death of the prophet who described himself as Jesus’ forerunner meant that his situation just got more perilous.  Yet it was hard for Jesus to get away from the crowds. They found him and instead of dismissing them as the disciples suggested, he fed 5000.  That was Jesus response to the violence and instability around him.  He served his people. 

          We don’t always have control over what is happening around us.  Even the most powerful in our world don’t---we saw that in the shooting yesterday. Yet we do have control over how we respond to injustice and violence.  There are times when we are meant to speak out like John the Baptist, even when the truth is dangerous.  There are times when we need to show solidarity with those who have been brutalized, murdered and unfairly treated like John’s disciples did when they claimed his butchered body. There are times when we need to show people boundless compassion like Jesus showed to the crowds that followed him. 

This story of John’s beheading is gruesome and horrible. There is no neat and tidy message in this story.  Much like there in no neat and tidy message in our political climate today. But that doesn’t mean we can’t learn something here.  No matter what horrible things are happening, we are never powerless.  There are always ways to react and they are not the same ways for the same people.   What we cannot do it NOT act.  We must respond with hard truth, with love, and with compassion.