“We tend to think that our problems are the problem. Then, just when we are working on our last few problems, a whole new crop of problems spring up. This cycle will likely continue until we realize that our problems are not the problem.” – James Finley, a quote a cited in my sermon on Sunday
In this area of rural South Dakota, the maximum degree of separation is one. I wasn’t exactly sure on the details how or why the Salem Mennonite Church had invited me to speak until arrived on Sunday. Read more
Since moving to Kodiak last fall, I have been blessed with many opportunities to preach, at the Unitarian Universalist congregation and at Saint James the Fisherman Episcopal Church. Last Sunday, Tamie and I co-preached in what was something of a tag team effort. She started off, speaking for a few minutes, then I spoke for a few minutes. Then she went, back to me, etc. It was a lot of fun. We didn’t really directly coordinate our talk; we were working off a common them and common Scriptures. It ended up coordinating itself, and I think it was a creative way to preach.
As a future minister-to-be, I hope to work on making the sermons creative. I’ve always had my doubts about having the same person preach week after week. For one thing, that’s a lot of stress on one person! For another, variety is so important in religious life…and in life in general. I wonder, for example, what it might be like to have a sermon in the form of poetry readings or imaginative retellings of biblical stories. There is so much creativity in congregations that seems to go unused. What would it be like to unleash that?
I’ve been experimenting, myself, this last year with different styles and approaches to sermons. I’ve prepprepared the sermon, speaking from a manuscript, and I’ve done the complete opposite, preparing an outline of main points but speaking almost entirely without notes; and I’ve tried things in between. I think I’ve been trying to see what is my style, looking for my “preaching voice.” But Tamie pointed out the other day that I don’t necessarily have to find one particular way to preach. And I like that. I like the freedom to continue to experiment over the course of a lifetime.
I preached my first Episcopal sermon this last Sunday at St. James the Fisherman Episcopal Church. I was robed (not robbed….fortunately!) from head to foot, and it was a lovely experience. It is a small congregation, which is definitely to my liking. I felt very comfortable and really appreciated the opportunity to share.
The liturgical scriptures focused on the commandments of God. One such passage was found in Psalm 119. Psalm 119 is a rather odd passage, at first glance. You have a poet waxing eloquent about….God’s commands, no less. So, pointed out in my sermon how odd it would be if you gave someone a command and they said something like, “Oh how I love your law!” or “My soul delights in that command!”
My suggestion is that the commands of God were a part of the link that held the community of ancient Hebrews together. The commands were mostly concerned with how people treated one another, things like: respecting elders, reconciliation for damaged property, restoration for offenders and criminals, dietary laws for health, a Sabbath rest, religious rituals of dedication, protection for the vulnerable in society (women, orphans, widows), respect for foreigners.
And this is really interesting to me, and where I spent most of my time: there were also direct restrictions on the building wealth. No interest was to be charged on loans. Debts were to be forgiven periodically, the year of Jubilee. Also, the land owners were not to harvest the edges of their fields but to leave these gleanings for the poor.
So, the commands of God were about creating a structure for a harmonious society. The ancient Hebrew was to find his or her identity not as an individual but as a member of a community, the community of God, where people take care of each other and the laws provided boundaries for mutual respect.
Then there is the United States….oh my, where to begin….while I was discussing the ancient Hebrew laws, I also discussed some of the ways in which we in the U.S. have little or no sense of community responsibility. I tried to do this as delicately as possible, because of two reasons: (1) there isn’t anything inherently evil with being a rugged individualist and (2) we can’t really held being conditioned as individualists.
The truth is, though, that we have taken individualism to a very dangerous extreme, and it is not only damaging our own spirits and souls but also impoverishing and hurting millions (perhaps even billions) around the globe and here at home.
One primary example of this is that we do not know where our products come from. Most of us would not knowingly buy a product manufactured by a company that employs sweatshop labor, and I would venture to guess that most of us would not buy a product if we know that the company didn’t pay at least a living wage. Most of us would pony up a bit more cheese to support the workers.
The unfortunate thing is globalization prevents us from really knowing whether the workers were fairly compensated or not. This is a problem of having a lack of a sense of global community. Our thinking is intensely individualistic: we only care to find the lowest prices. In such an environment of hyper-individualism, corporations can squeeze workers to the breaking point with virtually no accountability. Don’t like it. Tough. We’ll ship jobs somewhere else where hungry and desperate people living under oppressive governments will work for pennies.
Very sad. Very tragic.
The other example I mentioned was incarceration. The ancient Hebrew law structure had a good deal of restorative justice. The idea was that criminals and offenders should right the wrongs done to others and then be restored to society and welcomed back as productive community members.
The U.S., by stark contrasts, focuses almost exclusively on punitive justice. Punitive justice is justice by punishment. We have no structure for restoration, because restoration requires thinking as a community and as neighbors, and we have become to hyper-individualistic. So we just lock people up. I shared the statistics: in the last 40 years, the prison populations have increased 700 percent. Yikes. We know spend $60 billion on incarceration each year in the U.S. Depending on the facility, this amounts to $20,000 or upward to $50,000 per inmate per year. If we viewed offenders as community members, I think we could be a bit more creative with that $20,000 and find a way to help offenders. Most criminals come from poor and disadvantaged backgrounds to begin with, and they do not have access to the best legal counsel. Our system thus skews justice toward the rich and against the poor.
I might also add that it also doesn’t work to lock people up and throw away the key. When people get out, in most cases they are worse than when they were locked up. (Imagine if you had to sit in a cell everyday for years on end and deal with the horrors of prison.) On top of that, we are now running out of room to incarcerate people, so we’ve had to start letting people out early.
The main point of my sermon was to ask if there was another way. It was to ask ourselves, at St. James the Fisherman Episcopal Church in Kodiak, Alaska, to have conversations about thinking differently. What can we do to change the structure of our society so that we can begin thinking more collectively, as a community. The best place to start, I suggested, was in the local community. How can we be more active in our local community to change the structure, to support local businesses. There are significant movements underway in the U.S. against the injustices of globalization, and we should seek to be part of this.
I closed by suggesting that the church is a perfect place to have these conversations. It is already a community, one that is formed around a moral and spiritual consciousness. Our souls feel the ache of individualism, and our spirits reject exploitation and injustice. We also have the scriptures to inspire us to think communally. The law of the ancient Hebrews can be a guide to creating that structure.
Alaska is lighting up again. When I walk to school in the morning at 8am (which is actually noon on the east coast), I can see the oh-so faint traces of daylight. Ah.
Speaking of “ah” moments. I went for a run on a familiar path this evening. At times this “path” includes beating through the bushes and even a bit of climbing, making the expedition more like a military cross-training exercise. The normal road that I run on (Pillar Mountain for those of you in Kodiak and in the know) goes up a hill, but the hill has much ice on it, making it precarious and difficult to actually make any progress (as if running up hill were not hard enough!). So, I decided to try some side trails/roads, and about 1/2 mile of mud and water I found the most lovely trails. So isolated, so beautiful. In the midst of spruce, running along the soft, mossy earth.
I came to the end of the trails, randomly; they ended in the middle of the woods. Then I just saw below me the most mythical yet simple scene: mist blowing across the tops of trees.
Coming attractions….This Sunday will find me robed and preaching my first Episcopal sermon at St. James the Fisherman Episcopal Church. The theme of the liturgical scriptures have to do with the commands of God and with community. In the last few decades, we have heard a good deal from Christians about how the commands of God are being neglected, to our peril. My study of the biblical texts, however, show that the commands of God rooted in community (not the other way around). The commands of God were valuable to the ancient Hebrew people because they were the framework for a harmonious community.
I want to use this exegesis to explore how fragmented our 21st century existence is, and how we need to begin to go about the hard work of building a structure for true community. It is truly shocking how many of the principles of justice, equality, and compassion found in the Jewish scriptures (aka the Christian “Old Testament”) are neglected in this world of global capitalism. There is almost no limit to the manner in which the rich and powerful can exploit the poor.
In other news….it seems as though credit card companies are ready to snag more suckers. Has anyone else noticed that those wonderful little solicitations from the Big Banks are now rotating through your mail? A sign that business and our economy is painstakingly trying to get back to the American norm: time to rack up credit card debt to buy shit we don’t really need! =)