B Epiphany 2 BFC
2015
I Samuel 3-4:1
January 18, 2015
Generally,
Christian spirituality holds aloft two overarching values: balance and freedom. Their definitions overlap such that one
cannot be defined without the other.
Balance is the freedom to not be blown about by every breeze, get caught
up in the flow of every tide, moved by the profit margin, or enmeshed in every
fashionable political or Hollywood intrigue.
Freedom is the balance to speak and live our lives in a way that honors
our highest values in keeping with the Heart of God. When one is free, our choices move from black
and white to a rainbow of colors we did not think possible—creativity and life
breaks forth in the grayest of places. I
think freedom is best defined in a quote from Dr. Cornel West who regularly
says, “If your success is defined as
being well-adjusted to injustice and well-adapted to indifference, then we
don’t want successful leaders. We want great leaders who love the people enough
and respect the people enough to be unbought, unbound, unafraid, and unintimidated
to tell the truth.”[1]
In the
Biblical tradition, this is who a prophet is:
a great leader willing to bear the truth to the board room and the
voting booth, to city hall and the supermarket, to preach tough news to the
principalities of power and good news to the poor and oppressed. The prophet does not speak on behalf of a
singular individual but on behalf of the wider community, nation, and
world.
Today we
read one of my most beloved Scripture verses, I Samuel, Chapter 3, through
Chapter 4, verse 1. It is a Scripture
passage intended as a template for all prophets. God speaks, the Word of the Living God calls,
and the prophet shows themselves to be worthy by merely saying, “Here I am.” It is an echo of the call and response
between Moses and God in Exodus, Chapter 3, when God says, “Here I Am” as a way
of relating God’s own character to Moses.
God self-defines as the one who shows up, is present, and makes known
that there is work to be done. Moses, in
return, shows himself to be a God-bearer, a truth-bearer, a prophet by saying,
“Here I am,” when God speaks and calls. In
the same manner, Mary of Nazareth, in the Gospel of Luke, shows herself to be a
prophet when God speaks and calls and she says, “Here I am.” In our passage for today, the young boy,
Samuel, shows himself to be a God-bearer, a prophet by saying, “Here I
am.” Here I am. I will show up. I will be present. There is work to be done.
One of the
reasons I love this passage from I Samuel is how it relates the mythic and
poetic nature of Scripture. When we
confine Scripture to petty moralisms and simple logic, we miss the broad sweep
of a poet’s heart. This passage has
these beautifully mythic lines which unpack into wider realities.
To compare
in modern culture, there are these great movie quotes which are mythic in nature,
right? They set the stage, open or close
a story in such a way that broad narratives are painted bigger than the literal
words themselves. If a picture is worth
a thousand words, a good story told through movies spans generations. "Of all
the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” An iconic line that opens the movie,
“Casablanca.” Or the ending of “Gone With the Wind”, when Rhett has finally had
enough and says, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
“There’s no crying in baseball!” from a “A League of
Their Own” to convey the strength of women found in both toughness and
vulnerability. Or from one of the best movies of 2014, “The
Imitation Game”: “Sometimes it is the
people no one imagines anything of, who do the things no one can imagine.” Indeed, the young boy Samuel, who works like
an altar boy for the priest Eli who is the God-bearer no one can imagine. Eli, the priest, his sons, those pastor’s kids, meanwhile, have grown fat
on the offerings the community has brought to them, keeping the best parts for
themselves—a clear violation of the covenant which asks that the best and first
parts be first offered to God who then returns it to the community for their
welfare and benefit. Eli’s sons were to
be the most likely God-bearers we could imagine. But the story doesn’t go that way.
There are these wonderfully mythic lines which open
and close our Biblical story for today.
They are verses which remind us that this story is found in all ages and
places. The passage opens with, “And the
word of the Living God was precious in those days, visions were not
widespread.” The passage ends with, “And
the word of Samuel was for all of Israel . . .”
Not for priests and kings of position and power, not for the sons of
priests who take advantage of their birthright and inheritance, not for any,
chosen few. The word of Samuel was for all of
Israel.
Finally, there is that mythic line within this story
which holds me transfixed as I try to decipher its poetic meaning: “And Samuel grew up, and the Living God was
with him, and did not let any of his words fall to the ground.” What does that mean? Does that mean that Samuel’s words lasted and
endured, had substance and were solid, or as Tracy suggested to me, were heard
and received by the whole community. For
words that fall to the ground are ones that do not find purchase in the hearts
and minds of those who hear them. And
God did not let any of Samuel’s words fall to the ground because people
listened and were moved to action by them.
Is it that? Or is it because
Samuel spoke with an authority born out of the wildness and freedom given to
him by God? Or is it merely that
Samuel’s words did not fall to the ground because they were spoken by God
through the young boy, Samuel?
When does God come and speak to us mere mortals? How do we know? When is it known that the Living God speaks,
is heard, and the words do not fall to the ground? Absent a voice from the heavens, a
cataclysmic lightning strike, or a dove sent to circle overhead, how do we know
when God speaks? How do we know any of
us know that we are called by the Living God to do the work that is before
us? How do we know that any one of us is
called?
That word,
“call” is one used much too often at seminary to describe the work of people in
ordained ministry. Does it require a
halo or a special gleam? A kind of look? I know I do not have it.
Some years
ago, while I was in vacation in New Mexico, I decided to take a walk outside
the hotel where we were staying just outside the campus of the University of
New Mexico. There they were, like I have
seen on many a college campus. A group of
young men from Campus Crusade for Christ were stopping people at each street
corner to ask whether passersby had received Jesus Christ as our personal Lord
and Savior. The little voice inside my
head just kept saying, “Leave me alone, leave me alone, just please leave me
alone.”
I thought my
prayers to the Almighty were answered when a co-ed walking down the opposite
corner seemed to attract the attention of the “saved” young men. They gravitated to her. Unfortunately for me, she made it abundantly
clear she wanted nothing to do with their salvation. One of the guys gave up and turned his
attention toward me. “Have you received
Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?”
Casually, and in stride, I said, “Thanks, but I’m already a Christian
pastor.” The guy stopped in his tracks,
and he said , with a harrumph, “Yeah, right.”
So . . .
very clearly, I have to work on my earthly glow, that sign that heaven has
anointed and called me to preach the good news.
Because it sure ain’t evident to many folk. How do we know that the Word of God comes to
some guy walking on the sidewalk in New Mexico, the most famous television
preacher, a young boy who has been dedicated by his mother to the service of
the Living God? I think one clue is
found in the beautiful words at the end of the passage read today: “And the word of Samuel was for all of
Israel.”
Many of us
have heard the story of Rosa Parks. As a
secretary for the NAACP, a person with some gravitas
in the Civil Rights struggle, Rosa
Parks was considered an ideal candidate to begin the Montgomery bus boycott by
refusing to give up her seat in what were considered the “white sections.” But nine months before Rosa Parks, a 15-year
old girl named Claudette Colvin had refused to give up her seat. The older Parks befriended the Claudette,
learned from Claudette’s example, and the African-American community in
Montgomery, Alabama, began a spiritual practice of fasting that was key in the
struggle for racial justice.
On March 2,
1955, 15 year-old Claudette Colvin refused to stand up and give up her seat to
a white woman. By her recollection, she
could not get up. There were people
inspiring her courage. Colvin remembers:
My
head was just too full of black history, you know, the oppression that we went
through. It felt like Sojourner Truth was on one side pushing me down, and
Harriet Tubman was on the other side of me pushing me down. I couldn't get up.[2]
For a young girl, Colvin was also politically active. She had high aspirations to be President one
day and was a member of the NAACP Youth Council. Her classmate, Annie Larkins, remembers
Colvin, in refusing to give up her seat, shouting over and over again, “It’s my
constitutional right.” Said Larkins,
“She had decided on that day that she was not going to move.”[3]
Claudette Colvin stood on
the shoulders of Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman. Rosa Parks stood on the shoulders of 15-year
old Claudette Colvin.
Not unlike the early 60s when Mississippi was a state sweltering with
injustice or Alabama was a state with a governor whose lips were dripping with
words of “interposition” and “nullification”, on this week when we become
painfully more aware of the violence, of racial injustice, the movie “Selma”
makes its way into our theaters, and we celebrate the birth of a leader and
prophet from another generation, we might term these days in our country as a
time when the words of the Living God are precious and visions not
widespread. In such a time, leaders and
prophets are needed who are unbought, unbound, unafraid, and unintimidated to
tell the truth.
And more and more spiritual leaders are saying that the particular
enterprise needed at this time is none other than non-violent actions which
will build democracy. In book after
book, magazine after magazine, in blog after blog of those people I read as
spiritual mentors, Cornel West and Tavis Smiley, Sister Joan Chittister and
Chris Hedges, Amy Goodman, Frances Moore Lappe, and Rita Nakashima Brock,
democracy is a way that we remember that God’s word is for all of God’s people.
Quaker spiritual leader, Parker Palmer, wrote a book in 2011, Healing the Heart of Democracy. In that book, Palmer offers five habits of
the heart that will help sustain democracy.
Palmer suggests that these five habits can be summarized in two
words: chutzpah and humility. Within those habits, Palmer reminds us that
it took a village to raise Rosa Parks and it took a community to translate her
act into social change. There is much
complexity in the world today, and Palmer believes that this complexity can
only be held by community.[4] More importantly, and perhaps illustrated by
Palmer’s example of Rosa Parks, is that this community can only be defined by
intergenerational community. Rosa Parks
happens because of Claudette Colvin.
Claudette Colvin happens because of Sojourner Truth and Harriet
Tubman.
My heart grows weary and sad when I realize that the one place where
intergenerational community should flourish, the mainline Christian church, has
become a place where the music, stories, and power is largely reserved for a
singular age and a singular generation.
As mainline churches, particularly Congregational churches, those people
and places that used to be hothouses for the town meeting and democratic
process . . . as those people and places now isolate the age groups, they
become less and less the institutions and movements which could be the grass
roots initiatives to sustain democracy.
Our children and our youth never hear the stories of their ancestors
inspiring them to courageous speech and action.
How is it that we have so many incredible stories in this congregation
of prophetic power when so many of you said, “Here I am!” to the call God gave
to you, and our children and youth do not know them? And your words fall to the ground because no
young person ever receives them into their heart.
And the words and actions of 15 year-old Claudette Colvin and the young
boy Samuel fall to the ground because nobody is listening. How is that I hear stories of my daughter
saying, “Here I am!”, standing in solidarity with a young woman coming out to
her parents or painting her nails to stand in solidarity with a person
struggling with their sexual identity who committed suicide, and yet, my church
family does not know. I am sure that
Sophia is just the example I know while I am willing to bet there are so many
others. And with the resources for
becoming vibrant and new and inspired by the word of God right in the midst of
us, we are all losing. We all are losing. The word of the Living God is given to the
prophet for the whole community, nation, and world.
We are spending time looking for that Word in people who are no longer
here while I am certain that if we talked to each other and listened to each other
across generations, we would hear the Word of the Living God once again.
God . . . calls. And in return,
we are asked to be present, to show up, and know that there is work to be
done. May we have the courage to speak
and also the courage to listen so that none of the words of the Living God fall
to the ground. Amen.
[1] I have tried to source this quote from Dr. West but
have been unable to find it. I have
heard him say it several different times so I feel confident using it. I apologize for not being able to source it. A part of the quote can be found here, Adam
Serwer, “All the President’s Frenemies,” The
American Prospect, September 21, 2011.
http://prospect.org/article/all-presidents-frenemies.
[2] Margot Adler, “Before Rosa Parks, There Was Claudette
Colvin,” NPR, March 15, 2009. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=101719889
[3]Amanda Dawkins, "'Unsung hero'
of boycott paved way for Parks," The
Huntsville Times, p. 6B, February 7, 2005.
[4] “The Inner Life of
Rebellion, Interview with Parker Palmer and Courtney Martin,” OnBeing with Krista Tippett, January 8,
2015. http://onbeing.org/program/transcript/7194#main_content. “Five Habits of the Heart That Make Democracy
Possible Study Guide,” p. 2. http://www.couragerenewal.org/PDFs/Five-Habits-of-the-Heart.pdf.
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