Who are we?
Welcome
Community
People
Families and Kids
History

What do we do?
Worship
Sermons
Music
Other Activities

What's Happening?
Events
Newsletter

What else do I need to know?
Location
Contact Us
Glossary
Links

Sermons

Sunday September 4, 2005 - Proper 18, Year A

Yesterday
I met with a young couple
who want their four week old baby baptized later in the year.
Like all new parents
they can hardly believe that this small person is theirs - their gift, their responsibility, their love.
It's an exciting time for them
but also a little bit scary.
There's so much to learn, so much responsibility, so many decisions to make
And one of the decisions they are making
is to have their daughter baptized, and to bring her up as a Christian.

It all sounds very straightforward.
Almost everyone here today
has been baptized; most of us have taken those promises made on our behalf when we were children
and made them again as adults when we were confirmed, and every time we witness a baptism and join in the baptismal covenant.

But being a Christian is not just a matter
of what we believe,
but of how we live.
It's all very well, when we're asked about the Creed
"Do you believe this?"
to say
"yes, of course I believe it!"
We might struggle with some of the details,
but it's something most of us can agree with.

But working out what it means,
going beyond just the words
to live our lives as Christians, that's a bit more difficult.
The prayer book tries to help us with the questions in the baptismal covenant, questions that explore
different ways of living out our faith.
And it was two of these questions that struck me particularly strongly
as I read through the service yesterday
with the parents of that little baby.

"Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?"

"Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?"

All week
I've been watching the news about New Orleans and southern Mississippi,
and the horrendous devastation that was brought by Hurricane Katrina.
And all week I've struggled with how best to respond.

There's part of me that wants to get on a plane and head south to help out. Anything just to do something, rather than sitting here
feeling helpless.
But the reality is, that I'm nor really very useful. The skills I have
are not things they need. I'd be just one more person to be fed, housed, kept track of.

And then I hear the list of things that people need, and think about rushing out to the store and buying water and soap and granola bars and sending them all down south - but by the time it would get there, it will be other things that are needed.

The easiest, of course, and the most useful right now, is cash. But my dollars seem so small in comparison to the need
that it hardly seems worth even donating.

So how do we respond to something like this? Does our faith give us any hints? Do the questions of the baptismal covenant help any?

Today in our reading from the New Testament, we heard a summary of how to live as Christians:

"Owe no one anything, except to love one another;
for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.
The commandments,
'You shall not commit adultery;
You shall not murder;
You shall not steal;
You shall not covet';
and any other commandment,
are summed up in this word,
'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

Love your neighbor as yourself. It's an echo of the words of Jesus, and echo that we find again in that question in the baptismal covenant.
"Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?"

And if we are being truthful when we answer, "I will, with God's help"
then our response when we see the devastation in New Orleans and Biloxi and Gulfport
is not just to say how terrible it is
but to do something,
to treat those people that we see on the news
as if they were Jesus Christ himself.
To respond to them
as we would hope others would to us in the same situation.

It was brought home to me yesterday - it was one of those days. First of all, the water pipe into the rectory sprang a leak. To get a crew out to repair it on a holiday weekend would cost the church way too much, so they switched off the water at the mains.
And then, if that wasn't enough, the compressor of my refrigerator died, and all the food inside spoiled.

No water, no perishable food. I began to have a taste of what it must be like for those people down south.
Except that I can go to the parish house to use the bathroom, and down the street to a parishioner's to use a shower. I can walk across the road for pizza. I could walk down to the street and buy a new fridge and have it delivered the same day. I still have power, so I have air conditioning and a stove, and I still have my home.

Down south, they've been living in much worse conditions than I am
for days. By Tuesday my life will be back to normal. For those affected by Hurricane Katrina, it will be months, maybe even years, before their lives return to anything like what I would call normal. And they will still mourn the many who have died, and miss the precious mementos of a lifetime that were swept or blown away.

When I think of what loving my neighbor as myself means,
it means providing for others the things that I think are essentials. Food, running water, a home.
And if that means
I do without a meal out,
if that means that I decide
to avoid using my car when possible and walk places or combine errands,
if that means I dig a little ways into my rainy day fund
and send all the money that I've saved
to help out
then maybe I'm beginning to see what it's like
to love my neighbor.

And it's been wonderful to see people across the country responding generously to our neighbors.
But it's the second question
that gives me more trouble.

"Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?"

The TV footage I've been seeing coming out of the south
has been horrendous. The descent into anarchy, the lack of effective and timely responses, the total inability to cope.
We have seen people stranded, sometimes because of their own pig-headedness
in refusing to leave their homes,
but many other times
the result of poverty or sickness.
Many people didn't have cars to use to escape. Some couldn't afford to catch buses to safety, because their welfare checks weren't due till the first of the month. Others were simply too frail or sick to get away. I saw one report last Sunday of two women, one in a wheelchair, waiting for a public bus;
I don't know if they made it to safety.

There has been precious little dignity
these last five days, and not much more
justice or peace.

And it's easy to find places to cast blame. On the President, for failing to realize the magnitude of the disaster. On the government, for not funding the repair and replacement and upgrading of levees. On FEMA, which had reports predicting exactly this scenario, down to the 100,000 people who couldn't or wouldn't be evacuated, and the thousands who lost their lives, and the months that New Orleans will be uninhabitable. On the war in Iraq, which means that we here are now short of people and equipment to help out those in need. And there are many other places
to cast blame.

It's easy to cast blame; it's much harder
to take responsibility.

But I think that's what the second question, asks us to do.
To take responsibility.
Because it's increasingly clear
that the hurricane was not to blame
for all the suffering we have seen.
The hurricane was the immediate cause, but what it did was it brought to light problems
that have existed for years. Problems of poverty,
inequity,
racism,
environmental damage,
and so on.

Those are the things that undermine justice and peace, they undermine the essential dignity
of every human being. And in a democratic country like ours
they are not just the government's problem,
they are our problem.

We live in what is arguably the richest and most powerful nation on earth
and we have cities - not just New Orleans
but cities much closer - Newark, Philadelphia -
where close on a quarter of people live in poverty.
And people are poor
not just because of bad decisions they've made, but because there aren't enough jobs, because they haven't had a chance to get a decent education,
because housing eats up so much of their income.
What are we doing
to work for justice for these people?

We live in a country
which has been described as a melting pot,
but where in reality
different ethnicities do not come together harmoniously
but are in constant tension.
What are we doing to work for peace?

We live in a country
where the medical care you get
and the education, and many other benefits of society
too often depend on how many dollars you have in your pocket
and what color your skin is.
What are we doing to respect the dignity of every
single
human being?

We need
to be active ourselves, talking to our politicians and demanding that they make decisions that benefit those in need first of all, holding them accountable for their actions.
We need
to speak out against prejudice and stereotypes
that destroy our society.
We need
to be working in our own community
to change our culture
and not just assuming that this is how it will always be.

We need to do these things
because we are called
as the people of God
to love our neighbors,
to treat others as if they were Jesus,
to respect the dignity of every human being
as made in the image of God.

And those tasks
will continue beyond the next few weeks and months
as the south rebuilds.
They are the work
of a lifetime.

And meanwhile
we need to do the tangible things. Here and now.
Give money. The reality is, that when we buy things up here and ship them down, we're paying for double shipping. Money will allow people on the ground
to buy what's needed
when it's needed.
And pray. Pray for the people whose lives have been devastated. Pray for those
whose lives have been destroyed.
Pray for those
who are risking their lives to help others.
And pray for those
who are sharing their lives, giving whatever they have
out of love.

I now ask you to join in prayer
for the people affected by Hurricane Katrina.

 

Sermon ©Raewynne J. Whiteley 2005