Preaching and Teaching

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
February 22, 2009

Text: II Corinthians 4:3-6

There are many reasons to love Mexico: the warmth of its people, the fabulous food, the weather in the mountains where we live is close to perfect year round, the art and archaeology, multiple Indian cultures; so many reasons to love Mexico. But I have been going there for 35 years because of the way Mexico’s values reform, renew, and refresh my values. At no time in those 35 years was it more important for that to happen to me than this year.

Sitting in our house in Mexico, I read online The Washington Post and The New York Times and followed the near panic atmosphere spreading through the U.S. and world economies. Sitting in the town square, I read the Mexico City newspapers about the peso having lost 45% of its value in the last six months and the money coming from Mexicans working in the U.S. to their families back in Mexico declining for the first time in recorded history. I felt like I was reading apocalyptic literature.

And yet, as I went to the gym at 6:45 every morning, I saw simple Mexican men and women walking to work as the sun rose. These people don’t make very much money at their work, a prime reason why so many Mexicans come to the U.S. seeking work. A construction laborer who works with a pick and ax all day under the blistering sun makes about $90 per week. A highly skilled albañil, a stone mason, makes about $180 per week. A secretary might make $100 per week. A police officer makes less than that.

And it isn’t as if the cost of living in Mexico is dramatically lower than it is here in the U.S. The cost of gasoline is about the same. Electricity and natural gas are higher than in the U.S. Fruit and vegetables are cheap but meat and chicken are not. So those laborers and their families are having to make $90-180 per week go a long, long way.

And yet as I talked with Mexican friends, taxi drivers, vendors in the market and others, there was no panic emanating from them, no sense that the economic roof was caving in on them. Oh, they know there is a global economic crisis. Almost to the person, they blame it on George Bush. But they are well aware that the root cause of their problems is generated by greedy Mexicans who siphon off the profits of that economy for their own personal benefit.

But underneath their occasional anger lays the old Mexican expression, “Asi es la vida” (such is life). After all, these poor folks have been through economic crises before. Indeed, many of them experience economic crises every day of their lives. They figure there will always be hard times. So why panic? It is life. Why bang their heads against a wall? It will create an unnecessary, self-inflicted wound.

Instead, they hunker down. They cut their grocery bills, put off dreamed of improvements or repairs to their homes, delay needed medical procedures, and call a primo, a cousin, to fix their truck (would that we had relatives who could fix much of any practical!). But they don’t panic. They don’t think the world is crashing around them.

On the contrary, in challenging times like our times, they rely even more heavily on the foundational realities upon which their lives are built: family, neighborhoods, religion and work. They celebrate baptisms with a little less food and beer, have a coming of age quinceañeros celebration for their teenager at home rather than in a small rented hall, buy a few less flowers to put on their mother’s grave. In other words, when things go from tough to tougher, bad to worse, they lean even harder into those things that are most important and reliable in life, especially family.

Most Mexicans rejoice in their core values of family, friends, faith and work. And I choose the word “rejoice” carefully. For unlike the expressions we see on the faces of people at Congressional hearings or on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange or on the D.C. metro during rush hour, most people down in Mexico remain pretty darn happy. They are glad simply to be alive. They are glad to have the small pleasures and gifts even the most simple of lives provides.

When I was telling my wife about this sermon, she asked, “So you are going to tell your congregation to switch to tortillas, frijoles and rice?” A fair question. No, to me the response to our present economic crisis isn’t to embrace poverty as a positive reality. I will never glorify poverty. I will never romanticize having to do without. I have spent too much time trying to remedy the cancerous effects of poverty.

However, we would be wise to understand why so many poor folks still get a lot of joy out of life while so many of us who are better off financially are counting our losses rather than our blessings. There is much to learn from the poor. Jesus, Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa and so many others taught us while living a lifestyle rooted in simplicity, even poverty.

When he dedicated his life to following Jesus, Paul also adopted a very simple lifestyle. And yet, a good part of his ministry was spent with wealthy people. The people of Corinth are a case in point.

Like the people of the United States today, the Corinthians were very wealthy, known for their luxurious, lavish ways. The vibrant city was a port and passageway through which traders from Asia and the Middle East traveled to get to Rome and the rest of Europe. As a result, there was a lot of money in Corinth.

In such a mercantile, materialistic center, idol worship was omnipresent. Not surprisingly, Paul felt called to challenge these idols he called “the gods of this world.”

Last week, I read a history about the rise of Islam from the 6^th to 13^th centuries. Muslims faced the same challenge Paul faced: selling the notion of one God in a polytheistic world. The great monotheistic faiths of history have always had and continue to have the challenge of keeping the faithful focused on one God, the God. For humanity is perpetually turning to seductive idols who invite us to worship them, idols as diverse as wealth, fame and work.

Everywhere we look in our society, we see high priests and priestesses celebrating the sacraments of our society’s idols. Indeed, Washington, D.C. has altars to these idols as surely as did Corinth. Tragically, we make extravagant sacrifices to these gods.

We worship an obsessive-compulsive work ethic that urges us to prove our worth through our work. As surely as the people in the Sinai turned their backs on Yahweh and made sacrifices to the golden calf, too many Washingtonians sacrifice family and friends, and even their health on the altar of their careers.

As Phyllis and I walked through the terminal in Houston last week as we changed planes, we walked past lounges where people waited for flights to Omaha and Portland, Denver and San Diego. It was a great cross section of America. And then we came up to the lounge for our flight to D.C.

There before me, with furrowed brows and well-tailored clothes, sat individuals with a laptop on their laps and a cell phone glued to an ear. “These are my people,” I thought to myself, “I’m home.” Wanting immediately to participate in this primal D.C. liturgy, I quickly pulled out and booted up my laptop, whipped out my cell phone and was plugged back into the culture in which I live, move and have my being.

However, if history teaches us anything, it teaches us that the gods we create will fail us. Only the God who created us is worthy of our worship. For the gods of this world are idols. Human-made. Human-destroyed.

The period in which we currently live can be more than a time for market corrections. It can also be a time in which we correct the orientation of our lives. For too many of us are oriented toward the gods of this world. We have put these idols false before not only Almighty God but before our families and friends.

As a pastor, I talk with people who get dumped by an employer. They are understandably depressed and angry. They really don’t need me to join the litany of how they were treated unjustly. They need me to point them in the direction of God. For, too often, we put more faith in our employers than we do in God; more hope in the results of our careers than hope in the results of a solid prayer life. When these false gods betray us, we are crushed.

I talk with couples whose long-term love relationship is in trouble. I never judge people about their destructive behavior. Most folks are usually quite good at damning themselves and each other to hell. They don’t need additional damnation from their pastor or God.

But I do talk to them about the reality that each person in a relationship is a human being, capable of doing great good and inflicting great harm. When we see our partners as such, as humans, not as little gods who can’t and won’t make terrible mistakes, we are more likely to work our way through the moments when the dark side of our humanity is on full display.

I talk with people who find out they have a very challenging disease or medical problem. Sometimes these problems are the result of inattention to their health, sometimes they are just old fashioned bad luck. But I always caution these folks not to worship the marvels of modern medicine. Doctors are human beings just like the rest of us. They can only do what they can do. When we are hit with bad health, we are best placing our ultimate trust in Almighty God and no one else. Whether we are finally healed or not, in God’s presence, we will find a peace the world cannot provide us.

To people in all of these heart-wrenching situations, I talk about the opportunity every crisis creates. A crisis can be a revelation of what is wrong in our lives as well as what is right in our lives. Crises create the opportunity for us to change directions: to move away from that which is destructive, to move toward that which is good and loving. We have a chance to identify the idols we have been worshiping and stop. As the prodigal children we all are, we have the opportunity to return to our one and only Creator/Redeemer God.

So it is with us as a nation and global village. We have gotten way, way off track by worshiping gods that, we are now relearning, disappear when the going gets tough. The priests and priestesses of these idols also suddenly disappear or, at a minimum, start denying that they said whatever they said.

This week it was fascinating to hear one of neoconservativism’s high priests, Richard Pearle, deny that he ever said many of the things he said that led us into Iraq. Indeed, he said there is no such thing as a neocon and he doesn’t know from whence came the term.

So it is with idols. They are like a mirage in the desert. From a distance, they entice us with their beauty. But when we really need them, really need them, they evaporate under the scorching sun of life.

This is not a time to have show trials for those who have directed us to the idols we have been worshiping. This is a time for confession and repentance by the masses.

Bernard Madoff is a criminal and deserves to go to jail. But he was also a high priest leading the worship of high returns from the markets, returns most reasonable people understood couldn’t be obtained unless there was something illegal or unethical taking place. So his conviction won’t solve anything if the congregation simply finds another high priest of finance to lead us to the land of permanent high returns.

No, we will correct nothing if we simply hang the priests and priestesses. We need to confess our own waywardness, our greed, our willingness to dismiss the facts and make a significant course correction—personally and nationally. We need to return to the basic ingredients of life as laid out in Scripture: God, family, sound ethical decision-making and hard work.

We also need to stop looking for quick gain and start looking at the long term pros and cons of policies. President Obama’s desire to engage in a slower, more systematic analysis of the options for the future is very encouraging. The question is whether we, the people, and our representatives in Congress have the patience to do the same.

Worshiping false gods isn’t just an insult to God. God can handle it. God’s self esteem is not dependent on our worship of God.

Ultimately, worshiping false gods is self-destructive. Putting our faith in people, ideologies and things not worthy of our faith is a sure and certain path to disaster. It is way past time to repent and realign ourselves with the God revealed in Jesus Christ.

So in the season of Lent that begins on Wednesday, let us move into a mode of confession and repentance. They are the tried and true way to New Life and joy-filled living.

Let us pray: Gracious God, we know what not to do and we do it anyway. We know what to do and we don’t do it. In the weeks ahead, help us to forsake our idol-worship and return home to You, the one and only God. As we do so, may the light of your love shine brightly in the darkness we have created for ourselves. All this we ask in Jesus’ precious name. Amen.

Seminary intern, Western Presbyterian Church

Washington, D.C.

February 15, 2009

Text: I Corinthians 9:24-27

In our Epistle lesson for today, Paul uses the metaphor of a runner to describe discipleship. I find this an intriguing way to think about Christian discipleship when we have just had the Super Bowl, March Madness and the Stanley Cup are upon us and Spring Training is just around the corner. Now, I must admit that I am not a huge sports fan so my view will be biased. Given that caveat, I find all of the professional sporting events, such as those just mentioned, the antithesis of Christian discipleship.

They are open to only a few players and to those spectators who are able to afford to participate. They are outrageously expensive productions, with outrageously paid professional athletes. Winning is everything and the looser is just that, a looser. I apologize right now to all of you whom I am offending. I beg your indulgence while I use a different type of athletic competition as a metaphor for Christian discipleship. This would be my son, Deven’s, high school cross-country and track teams.

First, however, let’s remember Paul’s context. His letter was addressed to the Christians living in Corinth. This city was a commercial hub as well as the location of the “Isthmian Games” which honored the Greek God Poseidon and which had been held about 8 miles from Corinth less than a year before the composition of this letter (NIB).

Athletic contests would have been familiar to Paul’s audience and would have been an appropriate metaphor for him to use as they were considered to be a religious event. Greek athletes needed to be disciplined and to exercise self-control, in all things.  Paul uses the Greek word “panta” which means always, in every way.

In order to win an event in the Greek athletic competitions, the athlete needed to be disciplined in all aspects of life. So, too, should the Christian lead a life of discipline and self-control. The difference is that in the Greek games there was only one winner of a perishable prize, a laurel wreath. For Paul, the Christian is striving for an imperishable wreath, eternal life. Paul uses the pronouns “you” and “we”. This is not an individual running a race but the community of believers striving for the prize of eternal life. Do the Greek games sound a bit like the Super Bowl? In a way they do and so I would like to use my son’s high school team as our metaphor for Christian discipleship.

Yes, only one person, team or school came in first but for these student athletes everyone was a winner. The same is true for Christian discipleship. There are five areas I would like to suggest where Deven’s team is instructive. These are discipline, self-control, the team, the individual and strategic understanding.

Discipline is a given, it is what allows us to manage the myriad activities of life. For my son, the discipline of being on the team was a part of his life from August through May. It meant early morning practices, late night arrivals from a meet, giving up one activity in order to be where he needed to be for his sport. I especially loved the cold January mornings when, by 7 AM, I was sitting on metal bleachers in the unheated athletic center where the indoor track meets were held.

Discipline is also a component of Christian discipleship. We need to give up some of our own personal desires for the common good. This will be different for each of us. Parents and students do this all the time. How many of us are using CFL bulbs for all or most of our household lighting needs. How many of us turn down the thermostat or use alternative forms of transportation?  Everyone in the congregation today needed a routine different from a Saturday or a workday in order to be here for worship. Many of us are involved in the many and varied volunteer opportunities offered by Western Presbyterian Church. Just look at the bulletin insert any Sunday, or read “Western Word” for an idea of the scope of these activities. I am also sure that many of us are involved in other forms of volunteer service. We are all giving up some of our own personal time in order to serve the common good in our neighborhoods and in the world.

Self-control goes hand-in-hand with discipline. Deven could not be out late if he had practice or a meet the next day. He watched his diet, made sure he drank plenty of water and ate nutritious snacks. By the time he graduated I did not want to see pasta or chicken for a long time as they had been staples of our diet for four years.

The discipline needed to be a disciple of Christ also requires self-control. I am sure we know of those times when we need to stop and think before responding to an unkind comment. It also takes self-control for us to marshal our resources to speak out against, or work for, causes at home and abroad. We exercise self-control when we budget our time and money in order to contribute to agencies important to us.

Self-control and discipline are necessary for both successful athletes and successful disciples. Unlike the athletic contests of ancient Greece, success is not just one individual winning a contest. For a Christian disciple, as for my son, success comes as a

communal effort. He was part of a team and that team was part of his school community. As Christians, I believe that our team is all of God’s creation.

Deven’s team trained together, worked together, consoled and celebrated together. While waiting for their own event the members of the team would be on the sideline cheering for their teammates. They cheered as loudly for the slower runners as they did for those who set records. They even cheered for another team if that team was doing especially well, or especially badly. When the cross-country meet was in a location where there was a steep hill, both in the middle and at the end of the race, anyone not running was cheering for all of the runners. The team was a community.

In much the same way the church is a community. We are a community here at Western and as the church we are all part of the body of Christ. Just as the individuals on the track team worked for the good of the team, we as individuals work for the good of the community of all of God’s creation. Christian discipleship means that we consider others when we make decisions.

We do feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisoners. We might do so in a literal way by donating to a food bank or volunteering to provide literacy services in a local jail. I believe we do this as we support Project Create which feeds and clothes the imaginations of children and brings relief to their prisons of bleakness. Those of you who are involved in various artistic expressions do so even more directly. Everyone who is patient in a long check-out line is an example of Christian discipleship. And so there are the individual expressions of discipleship within the community of the church as well as of the world.

As much as the track team cheered on their teammates there is nothing like the thrill of coming in first. This was certainly celebrated. So also was the PB, the personal best of each runner. My son was pleased when his time was better than it had been in an earlier race. In fact, improving one’s own time was almost as important as winning. Well, notice that I said almost.

Each of us is called to do our own personal best; to be the best disciple that we can be at any given time in our lives. Every athlete has an event that just did not go well. Each of us has a time in our lives when we can give more and a time when we have little to give. I believe that if we are each doing what Paul suggests, “Running in such a way that you may win…”, we will be doing our best.

How do we know if we are doing our best at any one time? This is what I call “strategic understanding”. Those of you who are athletes, current, former, or just occasional ones, know that an athlete needs to learn strategies. Deven needed to learn how to run, how to position his feet and the rest of his body in order to maximize his speed. He needed to know which shoes were best for him. Some of this came from his coach, some from his team-mates and some from his own discernment.

Christian discipleship also requires “strategic understanding”. I believe we can gain this understanding through corporate and individual worship experiences. We need to engage in study and prayer. We need to experiment with which forms of prayer, which Scripture, which author will give us the understanding and discernment to know how to be the best disciple we can be.

There is one ingredient which is missing in my metaphor but which is present in our lives of discipleship. That ingredient is the grace of God which is always with us. It is the grace of God which allows Christian discipleship to be a joy and not a burden. It is this gift from God which sustains us in all that we do. It is like the pasta my son ate before a track meet. He just had to take it in and use it to do his best. God’s grace is available, more than that, it is always with us. It is there to sustain us in the smooth races and in the rough races of our lives. We don’t even need to take it in. We just need to know that this grace is freely given. We respond to that gift of grace with the gratitude that prompts us to be the best disciples we can be.

Discipline and self-control are part of what is needed to be an athlete or a disciple. Are you now feeling exhausted and burdened by this? Remember what it is like to see a very fine athlete do well or see a lovely sunset or painting or hear a wonderful piece of music. I hope that all of the effort needed to be a disciple will feel more like these experiences.

I would like to share with you a time when I experienced the most profound sense of joy I have ever felt, in a setting which should have been filled with exhaustion and despair. In 1968, I was a student delegate to an interfaith conference which was held in Calcutta. On a day when the afternoon was free, Father Fallon, a priest in Calcutta, took two of us to lunch, explaining that he had something he wanted to share with us.

During lunch in a small restaurant near the Kalighat Temple, Father Fallon told us about the work Mother Theresa was doing with the destitute men and women who were dying in the streets of Calcutta. He explained that those who had no other place to go to die would lie down in the gutters and die there. Mother Theresa opened her hospital to care for them and grant them some measure of dignity as they died. Here they had a place which was clean, and where they would receive food and care, as their lives were ending.

Father Fallon took us across the street to this hospital which consisted of just a few rooms. In each room were low cots, no more than 6 inches off the floor. Each person was being attended by one of the members of Mother Theresa’s order. I saw them gently wipe faces or give a sip of water, or a kind word.

Every time I tell this story I have chills because I have never again been in the presence of such profound joy that I knew God was present. This is both the great joy and the great burden of Christian discipleship. I know there is no way that I can even come close to what I saw that day in Calcutta. However, my charge to each of us is that we train for discipleship so that we reflect God’s grace and serve as the hands and feet of Jesus, who shows us the way.

In the name of God, our Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

a sermon by Carol Howard Merritt
Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
February 8, 2009

Joshua 1:2-9

I have to admit something. Other than skimming the front page on the Washington Post website, I went a couple of days without reading the newspaper last week. I didn’t even realize that it had happened, until the third time someone asked, “Did you read that article?” And I had to answer, “No.” 

Reading the newspaper has been difficult these days, because there is always some catastrophic thing that has happened in our economy. People are becoming unemployed, houses are going into foreclosure, retirement funds are drying up, and the stock market is losing a tremendous amount of money. As lawmakers try to sort out a stimulus package, we are all bracing for what the next year will bring. Our economic future as a nation has left us in a place of uncertainty. We have assumed continued growth in our economy, and now that expectation looks less reliable.

Even though we have spent the last decades expecting continued economic expansion, we anticipated company stocks to outperform last quarter, and we expected every business to grow, now we know that continual expansion—at least in the short run—is probably not feasible.

Even in the fear and uncertainty, some things are clear. It is clear that predatory lending, charging higher interest rates to people who can afford loans the least, is not working. It is clear that interest-only mortgages that balloon after a couple of years are not profitable. It is clear that people can no longer stomach the news about corporations who have massive layoffs, while at the same time, their CEOs are rewarded with massive bonuses. It is clear that our tendency to look at the number on the bottom line and disregard the lives of people will no longer do. And, it is clear that our safety net has grown far too thin in our country.

It is also very apparent that crisis so often brings opportunity. And in this particular time, we are beginning to sort out our priorities as a nation, as businesses, as non-profits, as educational institutions, and as churches. I don’t know a single organization that has not been hit by this financial crisis in one way or another. And in all of it, it has caused us to stop. To think. To reevaluate our assumptions and our priorities. So, in one way, it seems odd that I would be preaching a sermon entitled hope for Haiti this morning. We seem to have enough on our plate, without worrying about another country.

And yet, this is an important moment for us. As we gather in this place, as to begin to imagine what justice in our society would look like, at this time and in this economy, we know that our mercy cannot halt at the border. As Christians, we are told to spread good news to the ends of the earth, and that means we have never been people who have been bound by lines on a map.

It is in this setting, in this economic turmoil, this uncertainty, in the midst of this great tradition, that we turn to Haiti. This is Haiti Solidarity Week, so many congregations across the country are shining a light on the situation in Haiti. We will join them this morning. 

Of course, if any of you have looked at a Presbyterian calendar, or have been involved in the denomination at all, you know that just about every Sunday is dedicated to some issue, cause, or ministry. There was a point when John and I were preaching on something just about every week, and for me, it was becoming difficult, because I felt like I had a preaching assignment every time I stood up in the pulpit. So we don’t always take part in Awareness Sundays, but this time, I felt compelled.

Mainly because I’ve had so many good friends who have worked in Haiti, and they have been moved and heartbroken by the situation. I even had a friend in college who lost his faith completely, because of his frustration that no one in the church seemed to care what was going on in the country. For the last few years, my good friend, Beth Sentell, has spent all of her time that she has away from her job as a pastor, going to Haiti. Beth works with a group that is helping with clean water. And so she travels from place to place, teaching people how to use the filtration systems.

She’s not the first person that I know who has dedicated great amounts of energy and time to Haiti. In a new era of globalization, with the development of the Internet and other sources of information, we know that a couple things are happening. First, people who have so much less have an easier time seeing those of us who have greatly gained. They understand that some countries have acquired much more than others in the economic expansion of the last decade.

Second, it has an effect on us as well. Those of us who have so much more material wealth can no longer ignore the people in poverty all over the world. For Christians, I think this is most important, because we cannot talk about the reign of God when we know that our brothers and sisters are starving. We cannot think of ourselves as just, kind, and humble people, when we know about such cruel injustice.

It’s like when I hear people talk about the Vietnam War. They tell me that one of the reasons it was so heart-wrenching was because everyone was watching it on television. The violence was no longer something that was taking place in some far-away land. There was no way to ignore a war that was right there, in their own plush suburban living rooms.

In the same way, we have been invited into the lives of many people. We can see how people survive; we know their struggles. As followers of Jesus, we have always known that we were to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, but now there is a greater sense of who our neighbors are. We can no longer ignore those who are practically right there in our living rooms.

Most people who travel to Haiti take on a great burden and responsibility. They are amazed at the history of the country, that found independence when a half a million slaves who had been brought there from Africa, revolted. In 1804, Haiti was the first independent nation in the Caribbean and the first black-led nation in the world.

Their land has been marked by deforestation and the environmental devastation that results from eroding land. Their politics have been marked by cruelty, corruption, and external pressures. Their economy is the poorest in the Western Hemisphere. Because AIDS, typhoid fever, hepatitis, and malaria is rampant, most people can only expect to live until they are 58 years old.

It is with this in mind, that we look at our scripture verse this morning. Moses, after leading the children of Israel out of slavery, has died. The people have yet to reach the Promised Land. And so God calls out Joshua, and tells Joshua that to be strong, and courageous, that God is with him.

And the words of Scripture echo from those days of Joshua. That day when Moses died and everything seemed to be in upheaval. And yet God told Joshua, “Do not be discouraged. Do not be afraid. I am with you.”

This is a reminder that we stand in a great tradition, where oppressed men and women in this country and around the world, have found hope in the liberating presence of God. We are part of a great tradition that has moved us with great compassion to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ, who has always encouraged us to look at the “least of these.” And our faith has always incited us to look beyond the bonds of human oppression in every form and look to the liberation of men and women.

There may have been a time when we would have been able to stay isolated within our separate borders, and there is plenty of liberation that needs to happen in this country. But now we realize even more that in a new era, we have to begin thinking beyond our borders. In this shifting moment, while all the rules seem to be changing, we can keep working for justice, not only in this city, but in the world.

One of the gifts that Christianity has brought has been an ability to think beyond our border, we have always been people who have looked to take the good news of Jesus Christ “to the ends of the earth.” The good news of Jesus Christ comes in many forms. For some, it means that we have won many converts to Christianity. But that good news also means letting people know God in the way that they need it most.

Jesus, after all, did more than just preach and teach. He was healing the sick, touching the outcasts, and feeding great crowds. If we are the hands of Jesus, we may be feeding one another. Often the good news of Jesus Christ has come in the form of medical care, feeding, and communication.

I am not saying that Christianity has always played a rosy role in international affairs. The practice has led to a difficult history of patronization, colonialization, and I have yet to meet an anthropologist who likes Christians who enjoy meddling in international affairs.

But it has also caused us as Christians to continually see the people around the world as our brothers and our sisters. Christians have been in the middle of building hospitals, educational institutions, sewage systems, and clean water. And so, we turn to Haiti, and remember the difficulties there. It is hard to present a straightforward picture of Haiti. 

Even when well-meaning people have tried to help, we have often done further damage. For instance, when the United States wanted to respond to Haiti’s food shortage, we sent subsidized rice to the country. It seemed like a good idea. Why let the rice rot in silos here, if it can be put to good use feeding people in other countries?

The problem was, when a Haitian mother of three went to buy rice, she had a choice. She could either buy rice that was shipped from Miami, or rice that was grown in her own country. Since the rice that came from the US was so much cheaper, she bought it. But then, the local farmers could no longer sell their rice. They began to go out of business. And so, through our aid, we have devastated their agriculture businesses, while many of our agro-businesses have gained. 

Stories like this are enough for us to lose hope. But, we cannot lose hope. We must be strong and courageous. We will need to keep looking and listening to the difficulties of this troubled nation. We will need to realize that we are often a part of systems of sin and oppression, often without knowing it.

And at this moment, this moment of crisis, we will need to keep looking at our systems of aid or oppression. We will need to keep confessing when we do things wrong. But most of all, we will remember that we have a Liberating God, who has called men and women of faith throughout history to help loose the bonds of oppression, feed the hungry, and fill the empty. A God who cares for all men and women.

There is hope for Haiti. There are people like Paul Farmer doing amazing medical work. People working to get good, clean water systems to Haitian people. There are reforestation efforts, and agricultural revitalization. Fritz Gutwein, one of our members is working for a group called Haiti Reborn.

As we go out, may we ask what God would have us to do, to be instruments of peace and hope to all of our neighbors.

Through God, our Creator,

            God, our Liberator,

                        and God, our Sustainer. Amen.

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
February 1, 2009

Text: I Corinthians 8:1-6

Orthodoxy is a widely used concept. There are political, theological, economic and many other orthodoxies that influence our lives. The word orthodoxy is rooted in two Greek words: orthos and doxa. Orthos means right. Doxa means opinion. So literally, orthodoxy means right opinion.

However, in the church it has gained an additional meaning. Between the third and first centuries B.C., seventy Hebrew scholars translated the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek. As they did so, they used doxa to translate a Hebrew word for glorifying God. As the early church picked up this meaning, orthodoxy came to mean the right way of glorifying or praising God. Every Sunday we sing praise to God how? With the doxology.

However, the church has also continued to use the original meaning of orthodoxy—ruthlessly. Too many to count are the number of people who have been killed, shunned or excommunicated by the church for being unorthodox, for refusing to accept what the church considers “right opinion.” Lest we forget, at times, the church has considered right opinion to include the enslavement of humans, the subjugation of women, the rejection of fundamental scientific truths, the condemnation of homosexuality, the rape of the planet and a million and one other totally false claims.

Prior to becoming Pope Benedict, then Cardinal Ratzinger, conducted a wide-ranging campaign against creative theologians in the Roman Catholic Church. He said he wanted to instill orthodoxy in the church and charged numerous excellent theologians with heresy. This campaign has now continued in Benedict’s papacy. It threatens to move that wonderful wing of the church back to a 19^th century view of the world.

However, we Presbyterians have our own history. Michael Servetus was a free-thinking 16^th century Spanish physician/theologian who hit a theological trifecta. He won condemnation by the Roman Catholic Church, Luther and Calvin. Sentenced to death by the bishops in France, Servetus fled. However, he made the mistake of stopping in John Calvin’s Geneva.

Inexplicably, Servetus went to worship in Geneva where he was recognized and arrested. Several of Calvin’s top lieutenants vigorously pursued his prosecution, ending with Sevetus being convicted of unorthodox views. He was burned at the stake. Showing his soft, tolerant side, Calvin is said to have recommended decapitation as a more humane execution.

So this concept of orthodoxy has a long, bloody, tragic past in the history of religions. It also has a bloody present. We see it at work in the Taliban and Hamas, in extreme Orthodox Jews who insist the West Bank is their land, in some Christian fundamentalists who embrace the use of the death penalty as punishment for sinful behavior. We also saw the Bush administration use their economic orthodoxy to drive the country right into the ditch.

When properly used, orthodoxy is like a deed to land. It marks out the parameters of a given system of thought. Rightly employed, orthodoxy never pretends the land ends where its boundary markers have been placed.

However, when improperly used, orthodoxy is like a wall built on the property line, designed to shut in believers and shut out unbelievers. Any attempts to move beyond the walls are rigidly and ruthlessly rejected. It becomes a prison.

People are oftentimes confused and irritated by the way I argue with some basic tenets of progressive/liberal orthodoxy. In fact, I find myself much more agitated arguing with progressives than conservatives. Let me explain why.

During the anti- Vietnam war days, I was a student at the University of Wisconsin. The political left in Madison was overwhelmingly dominant. It could also be abusive. Two friends from those days are here today and can tell you more about that experience if you are interested. My fraternity brothers hear I’m a minister and go: Really?!? So they oftentimes come to see for themselves.

On campus, in frat houses and apartments, at demonstrations and bars, I remember challenging Madison’s orthodoxy. I challenged the idea that our military was intrinsically evil because some very bad things were taking place in Vietnam; questioned the idea that the United States was a lost cause because of our practice of segregation at home and imperialism abroad; questioned whether business people and capitalism were evil. These questions were not well received. Indeed, people jumped down my throat.

Now you know that I relish a good argument. So the attacks didn’t have much impact on me other than causing me to question whether I wanted to be lumped in with other progressives. But the attacks did silence many people who don’t like an argument. I watched less combative, less argumentative folks simply walk away from the debate, turned off by the hostility and rigidity of the left.

This experience taught me to be very, very careful about advocating orthodoxy in any of its forms. It is all well and good to reach agreed upon opinions that we call right opinions. However, historically, orthodoxy of all types has been used to silence legitimate questions, mock heartfelt doubts. Slaves, women, gays and so many others have basically been told to shut up.

Our Wednesday night bible study is fascinating because it reveals over and over again how our interpretations of Scripture are shaped by orthodoxy rather than a personal investigation of the text. As we read Scripture, we bring to the text so many assumptions about God, Jesus, and ourselves. Why? We have been taught these assumptions are beyond question. They are orthodox—tried and true, tested and evolved over the ages.

The beauty of Calvin’s theological system is that it undermines the very orthodoxy it has occasionally produced. At the heart of Calvin’s system is a wonderful demand that we read Scripture with an openness to the Holy Spirit. If we do so, said Calvin, the Spirit will provide us with ever new, re-formed understandings of the text.

As a result of Calvin’s insistence on this point, our Book of Order begins with the affirmation that “God alone is lord of the conscience.” The church can’t tell us what to believe; society can’t tell us what to believe. God and God alone leads us to the truth as we interact with Scripture and the world.

Following this process, people have found many alternative meanings to Scripture. Many slaves decided, “Wait a minute. No one can own me. I am a child of God.” Women have decided, “Why can’t I vote? Why am I getting less pay than my male colleagues with the same position? Men and women are created equal.” LGBT people are saying, “Who woke up and declared heterosexuality the norm for everyone? Certainly not the Bible.”

Actually, in my opinion, there is no such thing as orthodoxy. There are only provisional orthodoxies. Science understands and uses this principle. They accept as correct a piece of information until it is proven wrong. They don’t fear a particular theory being proven wrong. They welcome it, seeing the discovery process as without end. Why don’t we do the same in the church? Why don’t we do the same in politics?

Even our families are ruled by orthodoxies. I remember telling a therapist that my father and I used to sit at the dinner table and get in regular, heated arguments. They occasionally led me to storm away from the table. The therapist said, “Why didn’t someone suggest you sit in another seat so you wouldn’t be so close to one another?” I was dumbfounded by the suggestion. Aghast. Appalled. We sat where we sat, regardless of the implications! It was one of our family orthodoxies.

Here at Western, we have our orthodoxies. Hopefully, we don’t use them to oppress people with differing opinions. Our goal is to create a space where differing opinions are respected as what they are—possibly true.

Paul faced rigid orthodoxies in Corinth. This created problems, in part, because many of the people he attracted were coming to the church from other religions—religions that worshiped idols. They were the unchurched of his day. While these newcomers had no problem eating food that had been sacrificed for/offered to idols, the church establishment was offended by such behavior.

Paul cautioned the folks in the church who were so sure they were right. He said, “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” In other words, folks, can we try and find a way to love one another rather than demand a conformity of thought and behavior, a conformity that extends all the way down to the food we eat?

Paul’s appeal to love is as valid today as it was 2000 years ago. If we are going to rebuild this great nation, we are going to have to drop our orthodoxies and build with loving openness to one another. The answer to our problems does not lie in Keynesian economics or supply side economics. It lies in finding pragmatic, effective, loving ways to work together.

So in this new era, let us drop our orthodoxies. They simply pit us one against another. Instead, let us open our hearts, our minds to new ways of being together, of loving one another. It is the sacred Way Jesus showed us.

Let us pray: Loving God, you call us out of ourselves, out of our ideological boxes to live with and love one another. Thank you. Help us to stop being warriors defending our ideas. Instead help us to become servants sharing ideas. All this we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.