sermon
Keep Awake
Events in Ferguson, Missouri this past week and year have highlighted the fact that despite some racial progress these last six decades, most white and black Americans live in vastly different worlds. While there are enough examples of African-American “success” stories including President Barack Obama, these examples can mask a number of disturbing realities.
Even though people of color make up the fastest growing segment of our population and will be among the future workers, parents, caregivers, and leaders of our region and nation, these members of our community are more likely to live in poverty, less likely to graduate from high school, less likely to own their own home, and more likely to suffer from chronic illness.
Decades of job and housing discrimination, unequal pay, and an inability to accumulate wealth over time due to all these factors as well as slavery and its aftermath, have made America’s racial inequalities also class inequalities. Ferguson is a symptom of deep wounds and divides in our country. Racism and injustice are deeply rooted and aren’t going away any time soon. Followers of the way of Jesus need to face these inequities with a three-pronged approach of repentance, prayer, and action.
Today we enter the season of Advent, the four weeks before Christmas marking the beginning of the church year. Advent is a season with many different themes and emphases. One of them is the reminder to be awake and alert. In today’s Gospel from Mark the author, speaking of Jesus’ return, says, “Therefore keep awake – for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.” The events in Ferguson have awakened many people in this country to the depth of anger and frustration with a status quo in which two children born in this country at the same time will statistically have vastly different experiences and opportunities based on the color of their skin.
Mark’s Gospel captures the emotions and sentiments of a community of Jesus’ followers experiencing persecution from the wider society. They are treated poorly and misunderstood, and they long for Jesus to come again, turning present certainties and complacency on their head. They hunger for God to intervene and liberate them from all that defeats them. They long for a better world in which the faithful are rewarded and those who have acted against or ignored God and God’s ways are punished. They ache for the return of a God who understands all that they’ve been through, and will break through present circumstances and establish a world in which justice and love for neighbor and creation prevail.
In Advent the call to be awake, to stay alert, is a call to be alive to God and the new thing God is trying to do, even when circumstances appear to conspire against all that is life-giving. For those of us who have grown up with privilege, Advent is a time to acknowledge the vastly different realities faced by our brothers and sisters of color who faced a stacked deck and uphill climb the moment they were born.
Another Advent theme is light shining in the darkness, the light of Christ which can never be extinguished, no matter how bleak or discouraging present circumstances may seem. This light is symbolized by the candles on our Advent wreath as well as the candles on God’s table. The light of Christ was present before the world began, and over the centuries it has given people hope and inspiration that God has a better vision for our life together, things can change, and there will be a better day.
But why has this change and better day taken so long? And why, even when some better days have come like the Civil Rights achievements of the 1960s or the election of an African-American president, are we so far from the vision of life God intended? Our reading from Isaiah arises from a similar question. The context for it is the late 6th century BC, in the early days after Persia conquered Babylon. Israel has longed and prayed for God to liberate her from her oppressor Babylon. And finally, there has been some progress! Persia is a more benevolent ruler. Life gets better for the Israelites who stayed in Babylon, and some who choose to return to Jerusalem. But even when there is an opening for a new beginning, not everything is perfect, not everything happens at once, and that pain and decades of suffering are not instantly erased. Our lesson reminds us that even when we experience God’s liberation, change is slow and healing takes time.
I also see our Isaiah reading as a communal lament. The people who are crying out for God to liberate them know what God can do. They know God can do amazing things. And yet they also know that they have not lived the way they should in relationship with God and one another. Their sorrow and grief cause them to confess, even though they still can’t refrain from blaming God a little bit when they say, “because you hid yourself we transgressed.” Despite their need to share the blame they are finally able to confess the truth about their lives, “we all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” Having confessed their sin they turn and acknowledge the only one who can save them from themselves, “restore us O LORD God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.”
Being fully awake in Christ means that we commit ourselves to being Jesus’ followers no matter where that road takes us. There are many things that can distract or numb us, or keep us from understanding one another’s reality. If we do allow God to awaken us, however, we must commit ourselves to participating in God’s work to create a world in which everyone has the chance to grow spiritually and personally, everyone has the chance to live in decent housing and get a decent education and decent health care, and everyone has the opportunity to get a job that pays a living wage. Contributing our time, talent, friendship, and treasure so that everyone can thrive is hard work, and it takes a long time to bring change worthy of the name. Creating an environment in which all can live abundantly also involves creating space so that others who do not usually have “voice” can lead, teach, and inform. It ultimately takes the healing and reconciliation only God can provide. So let us continue to get down on our knees and pray for healing and reconciliation, and then let us get on our feet and commit ourselves to working for a world in which all people us are seen as God’s precious children, equally worthy of dignity and respect.
There are members of our faith community who face racism daily. There are members of our faith community who work daily to create economic and educational opportunities for people of color. There are members of this community who work to provide spiritual and psychological support to neighbors of color who are struggling as they face overwhelming challenges and odds. There are also members of this community who have repeatedly committed themselves to providing low income housing, tutoring, a listening ear, and meals to neighbors in need.
The challenges before us are huge. Thankfully we worship a God who is bigger than the challenges and pain all around us, a God who has a track record of liberating God’s people from suffering and slavery. This Advent I ask you to join me in repenting for the sin of racism, praying for healing and peace in Ferguson and around the world, and in working together to bring deep, systemic change. God has always worked through ordinary people like you and me to do extraordinary things. God has always worked through people who were imperfect, doubted themselves, and were overwhelmed by the task at hand, to bring lasting change. The themes of Advent are encouraging reminders for the time in which we live: hopeful anticipation, a prophetic voice crying in the wilderness, light in the darkness, and the reminder to stay alert and awake in anticipation of God’s freedom coming into the world.