Most of you know that we are embarking on a capital campaign in a few weeks in order to renovate and upgrade our facilities. We’ve been talking about this for several years now, gone through several iterations of plans, but now we’re on the brink of the campaign itself. Excitement is building and over the next few weeks you will hear more about the campaign itself, how you can be involved, and more about what precisely we hope to do as we renovate our historic facilities. Continue reading
Jesus told the Parable of the Unjust Judge, the writer of Luke tells us, to teach us about prayer, but I think it can tell us something about justice as well. The unjust judge of the parable could be petitioned into rendering justice in a particular case if it were made inconvenient enough for him not to. This realization, of course, we have heard echoed by Malcolmand Martin alike. We should notice, though, what does not happen in the parable – the judge does not repent or reform. He does not become a righteous man. He renders justice to the widow out of pure self-interest, but this does not make him anymore inclined to be just in the next case the widow might bring, or indeed the next case that anyone else brings. There is no amount of pleading, petitioning, or protesting that will transform the judge into a just man. We live in under a state that is at best, indifferent to our problems, and at worst, actively seeking to destroy us. It is good and right that we hound the state into giving us justice, but blacks cannot delude themselves into thinking that the state will ever become justice. There are no laws that can be passed or reforms that can be pursued that will allow us to stop being vigilant. There are no victories that will bring us peace. We will never be able to pound our swords into plowshares, because we will always have to be prepared to fight. Dr. King, our beautiful prophet, was wrong. The arc of the moral universe does not lead anywhere in particular, not in this life. If it bends towards justice, it is only because it is pulled that way by our constant effort, by our unceasing straining and sweating and shouting.
“Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new; late have I loved you. And see, you were within and I was in the external world and sought you there, and in my unlovely state I plunged into those lovely created things which you made. You were with me; and I was not with you. The lovely things kept me far from you, though if they did not have their existence in you, they had no existence at all. You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.” Augustine, ConfessionsBook 12.xxvii. 38
By way of preparation for his Feast Day tomorrow.
It seems like every week this summer I come before you after a week of horrific violence and tragedy in the world and try to offer some consolation and hope from scripture. Then in the following week, even worse things happen. I won’t recite the litany of the past months to you, nor even the tragedies, violence, and injustices of the past week. The images are all too familiar to us now even if they were shocking when we first saw or heard about them. Once again, we have had laid bare to us the racism, injustice, and inequity that pervades every aspect of our society. As a human race, we see ourselves in all of our evil and inhumanity. Continue reading
I love because I love; I love that I may love. Love is a great thing; as long as it returns to its beginning, goes back to its origin, turns again to its source, it will always draw afresh from it and flow freely. In love alone, of all the movements of the soul and the senses and affections, can the creature respond to its Creator, if not with an equal, at least with a like return of gift for gift…. For when God loves, he wants nothing but to be loved; he loves for no other purpose than to be loved, knowing that those who love him are blessed by their very love. Sermons on the Song of Songs 83 (Bernard of Clairvaus, Selected Works, 272-273)
From the Rev’d Steven Lawler, Rector of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Ferguson:
Tonight there is more sorrow, tear gas, and destruction. Tomorrow will be a day devoted to distributing food, funding a program that engages youth in entrepreneurialism, and sitting quietly in prayer. Like most people I know in Ferguson, I will be trying to discover what it’s like to be on solid ground.
Yesterday, my neighbor broke down while we talked about the realities of police brutality toward young black men. Her hands trembled and tears showered her face. Experiencing the unique mixture of rage and sorrow that black moms know well, she described the numerous ways in which the local police have already treated her 8 year old son like an animal.
The cross and the Molotov cocktail: hTonight there is more sorrow, tear gas, and destruction. Tomorrow will be a day devoted to distributing food, funding a program that engages youth in entrepreneurialism, and sitting quietly in prayer. Like most people I know in Ferguson, I will be trying to discover what it’s like to be on solid ground.
We’ve seen similar scenes this summer from the Ukraine, Gaza, Syria, Iraq. But this time, the photo was taken in the heartland of America, Ferguson, MO.
The New York Times published this photo today. It exposes the reality of life in the USA today. After nearly thirteen years of the War on Terror, we are a society at war with ourselves as well as the world. Our politics, economy, culture, everything it seems, is conducted as war. We resort first to violence, violent language in ordinary discourse, and military fatigues, weapons, and armored personnel carriers at the first hint of trouble.
We mourn the lost future of Mike Brown, of so many others who were caught up in the militarized violence of the police and populace: Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin. The list is endless. We should mourn what we have become as a nation and a society: “All who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matthew 26:52)
From the ALCU:
Our neighborhoods are not warzones, and police officers should not be treating us like wartime enemies. Any yet, every year, billions of dollars’ worth of military equipment flows from the federal government to state and local police departments. Departments use these wartime weapons in everyday policing
The full ACLU report on the militarization of US policing is available here