What is Truth?
What a contrast.
Today, as we anticipate one of our favorite American traditions celebrating gratitude to both our Creator for the bounty of the earth, and to strangers who shared their hospitality in our times of need…as we look to express our thanksgiving through special acts of kindness to people who are alone, and people who are in need, with food donations and invitations to share with us at our Thanksgiving table… the news is alive with debates about who deserves our kindness, and what criteria must be met to be welcomed to our American table.
It was difficult to listen to the news this week. Wasn’t it? The shock of the Paris attacks, watching the trauma, fear and grief of the victims. And then the sadness to learn that there were also attacks in Beirut, Baghdad, and Kenya… and then Nigeria and Mali as the week wore on. And then, the almost predictable backlash against American Muslims, Muslim countries, and frankly just anyone who seems scary and threatening.
Fear and panic reigned in the news.
Sometimes it feels like this world is spinning out of control. I know I often feel that way. And at times of great tragedy and adversity, our instinct is to insulate ourselves and hold fast to the things that make us feel secure. To lock the doors of our homes and lock the doors of our nation. But locks will not keep us safe. The foundation of what makes us secure is God’s love … and extending that love to others.
In our New Testament scripture this morning, Jesus is on trial for crimes against the Empire. Jesus has been accused of claiming he is a king, which is against the political laws of Rome. But Jesus asks Pilate, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Jesus wants to know if Pilate himself has seen evidence that Jesus has broken the law of the land, or if other people have painted him as guilty.
Jesus’ question stuck with me this week as I read several statements from American Muslim groups condemning the attacks, disavowing the perpetrators of violence and lamenting the tragedy while Muslim- American friends confessed being harassed in public. And then, Governor after Governor called for the US to pause taking in refugees. The fear and panic that reigned in the news had found a place to land, a group to blame – someone to paint as a threat. People that I would not suspect of guilt but who were typecast by their religion, looks or land of origin.
And again it echoed in my mind; “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”
The world today is scary. It’s chaotic and violent and sometimes overwhelming. But as long as we’ve had human history, we’ve had wars and refugees. The passage from Isaiah talks about ancient Moab, a nation that was in many wars throughout ancient times. While few of us in this sanctuary may have experienced the life of a refugee, we as descendants of the Judeo-Christian heritage have a long history of it. Here in Isaiah, we hear echoes of the Israelites who were strangers in the land of Egypt. God calls us to ‘Give counsel, hide the fugitive, and let the outcasts of Moab settle among us, to be a refuge to them from destruction.’
Today we are more connected than ever before. Through the international media, twitter, facebook, blogs and pictures. We are exposed to the unfamiliar and the unfathomable … and that makes it easier for fear to take root over compassion. …Easier to make assumptions, to jump to conclusions, and to paint whole groups of people as the enemy.
It is natural in times of fear and chaos to grasp for control. In fact, that’s what we saw this week, as one Presidential candidate tried to outdo the other with new ideas to safeguard against potential attacks on our shores. In a desperate display to sell ‘control’, the candidates provoked each other with promises to trample the rights, hearts, and human dignity of specific groups of Americans, immigrants and refugees.
But the truth is, there is no policy that can guarantee our security. What those policies can do is subject undeserving people to collective distrust, harassment, humiliation and alienation – all of which underlie the rage we see manifested in terror attacks.
We may be waiting for that time Isaiah mentioned: when the oppressor is no more and a throne is established ‘in steadfast love’. Indeed, this is what many people were wishing for when Jesus lived. The world felt just as upside-down to they then as it does to us now. The ancient Jews wanted a military leader to sweep them to power, where he would rule with justice and righteousness.
But Jesus does not lead that kind of kingdom. Jesus and Pilate are speaking two different languages. Pilate is asking about rule, but Jesus is talking about love. Jesus is walking the earth, talking about a kingdom built on compassion and care for neighbor; forgiveness and peace; relationship and inclusion; sharing and equality. The ‘steadfast love’ part has to come from us.
There was never a leader who could have taken responsibility for creating the world as Isaiah promised, just as there is no one policy that will solve our problems of terror, violence and insecurity today.
What we need looks a lot more like the kingdom of heaven on earth. Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it has clear instructions for how to act in this world. Our experience of the kingdom is bound up in how we respond to that Truth to which we belong. The only way that the refugee or outcast experiences the kingdom of heaven is if we build it…and the only way we experience the kingdom of heaven is if we’re building it on behalf of, or with, or for, those refugees and outcasts.
So I think, rather than asking ourselves whom do we keep out, the question we need to be asking ourselves is the question the Apostle Paul poses in his letter to the Hebrews: how do we provoke each other to love and good deeds? Since God has inscribed the law upon our hearts and forgiven our sins, we must approach God with full confidence, unwavering hope, and consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.
Did you notice that word, ‘provoke’? Paul had no illusions that this path of love and good deeds would be easy or simple. He was aware that it sometimes requires moral support, solidarity with others, and yes, provocation to remind us about the call to the kingdom of God.
I’ve been reading a book by Eboo Patel, the founder of Interfaith Youth Core here in Chicago, called Acts of Faith. Patel is a second-generation Indian American, and a Muslim. He begins the book by analyzing the London bombers, 2 of whom were London citizens by birth and all who grew up in the West. He compares his own upbringing to theirs in an attempt to unpack the detour that allowed them to be radicalized into violence, while he was not.
He says of 2nd and 3rd generation Muslims, “Raised in pious Muslim homes, occasionally participating in the permissive aspects of Western culture, many of us come to believe that our two worlds, our two sides of ourselves, are necessarily antagonistic. This experience of ‘two-ness’ is exacerbated by the deep burn of racism.” He continues, “As we grow older and seek a unified Muslim way of being, it is too often Muslim extremists who meet us at the crossroads of our identity crisis.”
Patel credits his life path partly to the YMCA, a place that ‘genuinely loves young people’, and seeks to put them in leadership positions, as well as a strong Muslim ethic for volunteerism, of which he says, “I learned something about the lives of people unlike me. I learned to cheer for somebody other than myself.” This interaction with people very different from himself no doubt provoked the young Eboo Patel to love and good deeds.
In response, as an adult Patel began a group where college students from different faiths and walks of life have the opportunity to work together and take leadership on projects promoting the common good. The work boosts positive relationships and appreciation for different faith traditions and diversity. They are building bridges to the kingdom of heaven, on earth.
Friends, the world is flush with voices of fear, Empire, and the status quo, provoking us to ever more suspicion and division. But that is not who we are called to be! Fear is the opposite of faith. Fear produces hate. Faith produces love. As the kingdom of God, we are called to be people who break the cycle of violence, fear and division.
So friends, I leave you with this question: how will you provoke one another, today, to do love and good deeds?
Amen and amen.
Today, as we anticipate one of our favorite American traditions celebrating gratitude to both our Creator for the bounty of the earth, and to strangers who shared their hospitality in our times of need…as we look to express our thanksgiving through special acts of kindness to people who are alone, and people who are in need, with food donations and invitations to share with us at our Thanksgiving table… the news is alive with debates about who deserves our kindness, and what criteria must be met to be welcomed to our American table.
It was difficult to listen to the news this week. Wasn’t it? The shock of the Paris attacks, watching the trauma, fear and grief of the victims. And then the sadness to learn that there were also attacks in Beirut, Baghdad, and Kenya… and then Nigeria and Mali as the week wore on. And then, the almost predictable backlash against American Muslims, Muslim countries, and frankly just anyone who seems scary and threatening.
Fear and panic reigned in the news.
Sometimes it feels like this world is spinning out of control. I know I often feel that way. And at times of great tragedy and adversity, our instinct is to insulate ourselves and hold fast to the things that make us feel secure. To lock the doors of our homes and lock the doors of our nation. But locks will not keep us safe. The foundation of what makes us secure is God’s love … and extending that love to others.
In our New Testament scripture this morning, Jesus is on trial for crimes against the Empire. Jesus has been accused of claiming he is a king, which is against the political laws of Rome. But Jesus asks Pilate, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Jesus wants to know if Pilate himself has seen evidence that Jesus has broken the law of the land, or if other people have painted him as guilty.
Jesus’ question stuck with me this week as I read several statements from American Muslim groups condemning the attacks, disavowing the perpetrators of violence and lamenting the tragedy while Muslim- American friends confessed being harassed in public. And then, Governor after Governor called for the US to pause taking in refugees. The fear and panic that reigned in the news had found a place to land, a group to blame – someone to paint as a threat. People that I would not suspect of guilt but who were typecast by their religion, looks or land of origin.
And again it echoed in my mind; “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”
The world today is scary. It’s chaotic and violent and sometimes overwhelming. But as long as we’ve had human history, we’ve had wars and refugees. The passage from Isaiah talks about ancient Moab, a nation that was in many wars throughout ancient times. While few of us in this sanctuary may have experienced the life of a refugee, we as descendants of the Judeo-Christian heritage have a long history of it. Here in Isaiah, we hear echoes of the Israelites who were strangers in the land of Egypt. God calls us to ‘Give counsel, hide the fugitive, and let the outcasts of Moab settle among us, to be a refuge to them from destruction.’
Today we are more connected than ever before. Through the international media, twitter, facebook, blogs and pictures. We are exposed to the unfamiliar and the unfathomable … and that makes it easier for fear to take root over compassion. …Easier to make assumptions, to jump to conclusions, and to paint whole groups of people as the enemy.
It is natural in times of fear and chaos to grasp for control. In fact, that’s what we saw this week, as one Presidential candidate tried to outdo the other with new ideas to safeguard against potential attacks on our shores. In a desperate display to sell ‘control’, the candidates provoked each other with promises to trample the rights, hearts, and human dignity of specific groups of Americans, immigrants and refugees.
But the truth is, there is no policy that can guarantee our security. What those policies can do is subject undeserving people to collective distrust, harassment, humiliation and alienation – all of which underlie the rage we see manifested in terror attacks.
We may be waiting for that time Isaiah mentioned: when the oppressor is no more and a throne is established ‘in steadfast love’. Indeed, this is what many people were wishing for when Jesus lived. The world felt just as upside-down to they then as it does to us now. The ancient Jews wanted a military leader to sweep them to power, where he would rule with justice and righteousness.
But Jesus does not lead that kind of kingdom. Jesus and Pilate are speaking two different languages. Pilate is asking about rule, but Jesus is talking about love. Jesus is walking the earth, talking about a kingdom built on compassion and care for neighbor; forgiveness and peace; relationship and inclusion; sharing and equality. The ‘steadfast love’ part has to come from us.
There was never a leader who could have taken responsibility for creating the world as Isaiah promised, just as there is no one policy that will solve our problems of terror, violence and insecurity today.
What we need looks a lot more like the kingdom of heaven on earth. Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it has clear instructions for how to act in this world. Our experience of the kingdom is bound up in how we respond to that Truth to which we belong. The only way that the refugee or outcast experiences the kingdom of heaven is if we build it…and the only way we experience the kingdom of heaven is if we’re building it on behalf of, or with, or for, those refugees and outcasts.
So I think, rather than asking ourselves whom do we keep out, the question we need to be asking ourselves is the question the Apostle Paul poses in his letter to the Hebrews: how do we provoke each other to love and good deeds? Since God has inscribed the law upon our hearts and forgiven our sins, we must approach God with full confidence, unwavering hope, and consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.
Did you notice that word, ‘provoke’? Paul had no illusions that this path of love and good deeds would be easy or simple. He was aware that it sometimes requires moral support, solidarity with others, and yes, provocation to remind us about the call to the kingdom of God.
I’ve been reading a book by Eboo Patel, the founder of Interfaith Youth Core here in Chicago, called Acts of Faith. Patel is a second-generation Indian American, and a Muslim. He begins the book by analyzing the London bombers, 2 of whom were London citizens by birth and all who grew up in the West. He compares his own upbringing to theirs in an attempt to unpack the detour that allowed them to be radicalized into violence, while he was not.
He says of 2nd and 3rd generation Muslims, “Raised in pious Muslim homes, occasionally participating in the permissive aspects of Western culture, many of us come to believe that our two worlds, our two sides of ourselves, are necessarily antagonistic. This experience of ‘two-ness’ is exacerbated by the deep burn of racism.” He continues, “As we grow older and seek a unified Muslim way of being, it is too often Muslim extremists who meet us at the crossroads of our identity crisis.”
Patel credits his life path partly to the YMCA, a place that ‘genuinely loves young people’, and seeks to put them in leadership positions, as well as a strong Muslim ethic for volunteerism, of which he says, “I learned something about the lives of people unlike me. I learned to cheer for somebody other than myself.” This interaction with people very different from himself no doubt provoked the young Eboo Patel to love and good deeds.
In response, as an adult Patel began a group where college students from different faiths and walks of life have the opportunity to work together and take leadership on projects promoting the common good. The work boosts positive relationships and appreciation for different faith traditions and diversity. They are building bridges to the kingdom of heaven, on earth.
Friends, the world is flush with voices of fear, Empire, and the status quo, provoking us to ever more suspicion and division. But that is not who we are called to be! Fear is the opposite of faith. Fear produces hate. Faith produces love. As the kingdom of God, we are called to be people who break the cycle of violence, fear and division.
So friends, I leave you with this question: how will you provoke one another, today, to do love and good deeds?
Amen and amen.
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