WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
October 7th 2007
Communion Sunday Meditation
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Why Do They Hate Us?”
Lamentations 1:1-6; Luke 17:1-6; Psalm 137
In a world where religiously sanctioned violence is on the rise Psalm 137 can seem not only shocking but dangerous.
“Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!”
It is the sort of scripture which can leave us looking for the easy explanation to lessen the impact of these words. In fact, one way to deal with this passage is to say: “Well they did not have the revelation of Jesus teaching them forgiveness from the Gospel of Luke.” We could do this, but it would be unfaithful to the witness of scripture. Like it or not, these harsh words are part of the cannon of scripture and we cannot simply dismiss them as pre-Jesus stuff that should be ignored.
The impulse to dismiss these words or quickly explain them away has its roots in our great culture of denial. There really is no healthy place for expressions of rage and anger. Add to that the religious expectations that lead us to always be nice and to always put on a happy face. Fortunately, the full witness of scripture shows that these impulses are not rooted in the Word of God but in our culture.
Now at this point, you might be wondering of all Sundays, why would he choose to talk about this sort of thing on Peacemaking Sunday. It would seem that language about revenge and murder of children is precisely the sort of thing we are working to end. While that may seem true, recent history has shown us, in South Africa, Northern Ireland and elsewhere, that in order for peacemaking and reconciliation to occur, truth-telling must come first. And the hard truth is that this is not a practice which comes easy, particularly for folks in the United States.
By the title of the sermon you might think I have planned to say something about the current war on terror. However, that is not my plan this morning. Instead, I want to share a more personal journey, a testimony of my own experience of coming to understand the expressions of rage and anger in our country. Though I cannot remember for sure the year, I know I was old enough to drive but still in high school. It was early summer and my family was glued to the images that were being beamed into our home from a television helicopter crew. Just a few blocks from the home where I grew up, a conflict, or battle, was occurring between Indianapolis police officers in riot gear and a large group of young black men. To this day, those images remain vivid. As a young man watching that television footage I did not understand what was happening. The rage did not make any sense to me, and the adults of whom I went to for guidance were of little help. Each one offered a slightly different interpretation but the message was the same: We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred. While I did not challenge these explanations, there was a gnawing feeling that there had to be more to the story.
A few years later, as a senior in college, these questions again came to the surface. The uprising in Los Angeles occurred, again in prime time television. As my friends prepared for our weekly weekend ritual – and it wasn’t going to church… - I could not pull myself away hoping to gain some clarity and understanding. As I asked why again, the response from those around me was to once again claim the mantle of ignorance and innocence with the refrain: “We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred.” Again, I was not satisfied by these assessments but it would take leaving the country before I was able to find some clarity.
As a Young Adult Volunteer, in Northern Ireland, I worked with a number of community workers committed to reconciliation and peace work. As I become closer with a few of them, I became bolder in asking questions of them when riots broke out. My question came out something like: “What is the point of this sort of thing? What are they hoping to accomplish?” Fortunately, my new found friends were good at field the questions of the naive and ignorant. So instead of being told where I could go, I was given an earful. While I do not remember the exact words, it went something like this: There is not point to any of this, and that is the point. Many of our people do not have jobs, life is miserable for most folks. They live under the threat of being killed by rival terrorists and harassment by the police and the military. The rage and anger is not calculated, it just explodes when one more thing pushes people who are already fed up.
It took me some time to make sense of this. But in the process I begin to see that what happened in Northern Ireland was not all that different than what was going on in my own country. When the quiet riot in this country ceases to be quiet and the anger and rage comes to the surface it cannot be dismissed as unexplainable anger. Instead we must acknowledge the basis for the anger, and for the rage. This is what I believe the biblical witness is showing in these harsh words from this mornings Psalm.
The power of this passage is the inclusion of raw human emotion in the scripture. It is a witness that shows us that instead of burying our feelings or denying them, we should name them, not act on them. It is critical for us to notice that this passage is not a call to arms but a cry in anger. It is a prayer of pain directed toward God who can handle such honesty and pain. The witness of this passage is that unless this pain is named and acknowledged the result will be a continuation of the destructive patterns. The rage and anger will rise up and be met with more state violence. And then, society will continue to claim ignorance in the face of justified pain and anger. Both contribute to the continuing cycle of violence and death.
As we prepare to gather at this table, we reenact the last event prior to the humiliation, torture and execution of our Lord and Savior. It is a reminder that at the heart of our faith is not an escape from the pain of the world. Instead, we are provided sustenance in our struggle against the powers of death in this world. Eating this bread and drinking this cup will give life in ways that the bread and the wine of the world can never satisfy. And most importantly, we learn at this table and through scripture that: While it may not be safe to share pain, rage and anger in our society, it is not only safe, but faithful to do so in the presence of the faithful and before God. So let us prepare to pour out our burdens, and pick up the bread of life and the cup of salvation so we too can always speak the truth, in love, to a world that may not always want to hear. Amen? Amen.
October 7th 2007
Communion Sunday Meditation
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Why Do They Hate Us?”
Lamentations 1:1-6; Luke 17:1-6; Psalm 137
In a world where religiously sanctioned violence is on the rise Psalm 137 can seem not only shocking but dangerous.
“Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!”
It is the sort of scripture which can leave us looking for the easy explanation to lessen the impact of these words. In fact, one way to deal with this passage is to say: “Well they did not have the revelation of Jesus teaching them forgiveness from the Gospel of Luke.” We could do this, but it would be unfaithful to the witness of scripture. Like it or not, these harsh words are part of the cannon of scripture and we cannot simply dismiss them as pre-Jesus stuff that should be ignored.
The impulse to dismiss these words or quickly explain them away has its roots in our great culture of denial. There really is no healthy place for expressions of rage and anger. Add to that the religious expectations that lead us to always be nice and to always put on a happy face. Fortunately, the full witness of scripture shows that these impulses are not rooted in the Word of God but in our culture.
Now at this point, you might be wondering of all Sundays, why would he choose to talk about this sort of thing on Peacemaking Sunday. It would seem that language about revenge and murder of children is precisely the sort of thing we are working to end. While that may seem true, recent history has shown us, in South Africa, Northern Ireland and elsewhere, that in order for peacemaking and reconciliation to occur, truth-telling must come first. And the hard truth is that this is not a practice which comes easy, particularly for folks in the United States.
By the title of the sermon you might think I have planned to say something about the current war on terror. However, that is not my plan this morning. Instead, I want to share a more personal journey, a testimony of my own experience of coming to understand the expressions of rage and anger in our country. Though I cannot remember for sure the year, I know I was old enough to drive but still in high school. It was early summer and my family was glued to the images that were being beamed into our home from a television helicopter crew. Just a few blocks from the home where I grew up, a conflict, or battle, was occurring between Indianapolis police officers in riot gear and a large group of young black men. To this day, those images remain vivid. As a young man watching that television footage I did not understand what was happening. The rage did not make any sense to me, and the adults of whom I went to for guidance were of little help. Each one offered a slightly different interpretation but the message was the same: We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred. While I did not challenge these explanations, there was a gnawing feeling that there had to be more to the story.
A few years later, as a senior in college, these questions again came to the surface. The uprising in Los Angeles occurred, again in prime time television. As my friends prepared for our weekly weekend ritual – and it wasn’t going to church… - I could not pull myself away hoping to gain some clarity and understanding. As I asked why again, the response from those around me was to once again claim the mantle of ignorance and innocence with the refrain: “We just do not understand why they are so full of anger and hatred.” Again, I was not satisfied by these assessments but it would take leaving the country before I was able to find some clarity.
As a Young Adult Volunteer, in Northern Ireland, I worked with a number of community workers committed to reconciliation and peace work. As I become closer with a few of them, I became bolder in asking questions of them when riots broke out. My question came out something like: “What is the point of this sort of thing? What are they hoping to accomplish?” Fortunately, my new found friends were good at field the questions of the naive and ignorant. So instead of being told where I could go, I was given an earful. While I do not remember the exact words, it went something like this: There is not point to any of this, and that is the point. Many of our people do not have jobs, life is miserable for most folks. They live under the threat of being killed by rival terrorists and harassment by the police and the military. The rage and anger is not calculated, it just explodes when one more thing pushes people who are already fed up.
It took me some time to make sense of this. But in the process I begin to see that what happened in Northern Ireland was not all that different than what was going on in my own country. When the quiet riot in this country ceases to be quiet and the anger and rage comes to the surface it cannot be dismissed as unexplainable anger. Instead we must acknowledge the basis for the anger, and for the rage. This is what I believe the biblical witness is showing in these harsh words from this mornings Psalm.
The power of this passage is the inclusion of raw human emotion in the scripture. It is a witness that shows us that instead of burying our feelings or denying them, we should name them, not act on them. It is critical for us to notice that this passage is not a call to arms but a cry in anger. It is a prayer of pain directed toward God who can handle such honesty and pain. The witness of this passage is that unless this pain is named and acknowledged the result will be a continuation of the destructive patterns. The rage and anger will rise up and be met with more state violence. And then, society will continue to claim ignorance in the face of justified pain and anger. Both contribute to the continuing cycle of violence and death.
As we prepare to gather at this table, we reenact the last event prior to the humiliation, torture and execution of our Lord and Savior. It is a reminder that at the heart of our faith is not an escape from the pain of the world. Instead, we are provided sustenance in our struggle against the powers of death in this world. Eating this bread and drinking this cup will give life in ways that the bread and the wine of the world can never satisfy. And most importantly, we learn at this table and through scripture that: While it may not be safe to share pain, rage and anger in our society, it is not only safe, but faithful to do so in the presence of the faithful and before God. So let us prepare to pour out our burdens, and pick up the bread of life and the cup of salvation so we too can always speak the truth, in love, to a world that may not always want to hear. Amen? Amen.
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