AN IRISH BLESSING

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Irish Blessing

BETTER TOGETHER

(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 3/11/12.)



How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! (Psalm 133:1)

A careful reading of Scripture points with clarity to God’s divine design for all of humanity. The assertion that God has created all of humanity in God’s image was first recorded in the Book of Genesis and reminds us that God’s purpose for us is rooted in our God-likeness. And it is in our God-likeness that we find our commonality in Christ.

Because of our God-likeness, the fact of the matter is we are more alike than we are different. In-fact, scientific researchers have discovered that the DNA make-up of humans makes us more than 99% similar to all other human beings. There is very little that is really different about us. We are far more similar than we are different.

The challenge for us in the present age is that we tend to focus more on the things that are different among us, than on our similarities. This challenge is exacerbated by that fact that the focus and fixation on our differences tends to lead to divisions within the human family.

As we look around, it is easy to see that we are separated in many ways. Segregation, discrimination and disintegration continue to be pervasive among us.

Indeed our churches and our society in general continue to deal with the problems of racism, sexism, and elitism. We see separation in the forms of denominationalism and traditionalism in many churches. We see it in ongoing political division and social alienation.

It is my belief that such separation leads to a form human isolation that places too many of us outside the divine order and intent of God. Such separation forces us in one of two directions. First, many of us find ourselves wanting to go it alone, and living life outside of community altogether. This is what might be called the “me-my-and- I syndrome,” where we turn inward and focus mainly, if not exclusively, on ourselves and how we will succeed. Here, we privatize our lives in ways that stunt our growth as social beings, and turn more and more inward for meaning in life, and seek less and less to share life with our sisters and brothers as a way of growing our lives and those of others.

Or we go down the road of simply seeking to share in community only with persons who are the most like us. This is the “birds of a feather” syndrome, where we find ourselves flocking together with persons who look like us, talk like us, think like us, believe like us, sing like us, pray like us, go to the places that we go, and do the same things that we do.

In either case, we are like caterpillars that never leave the cocoon - stuck inside our own self – trapped within our own possibilities, lost in the midst of life itself, never able to fully realize what and who we are to become.

How might we overcome these tendencies toward segregation and isolation? The psalmist in Psalm 133 who gives hope and encouragement as to how we might better live our lives together. The psalmist declares in the opening words here, “How very good and how pleasant it is for sisters and brothers to dwell together in unity.”

The main theme of the psalm is the reunification of the northern and southern kingdoms of Israel. The psalmist here uses family imagery to evoke the joy of living together in unity. It speaks to the church and the whole family of God and reminds us of God’s ideal that we break down barriers and join with those who have been estranged from fellowship with God and God’s church.

These are words of faith and life for those seeking true community. The psalmist points to the blessing that is found in those of us who are a part of the family of God being able to dwell together in unity.

The thing that is important to first notice is that psalmist points to the blessing of not simply dwelling together, but dwelling together in unity. Certainly the psalmist might have stopped by saying that it is blessed that we dwell together, but he shared that it’s good and pleasant when we dwell together in unity.

In community, we seek to arrive at a relationship with others, where we are not necessarily one, but where we dwell together in unity (Psalm 133:1), cognizant always of the realistic balance between being self-concerned and other-concerned.

The psalmist here points to unity as a goal that we must achieve if we are to be whole. It is a vision that we must live.

My grandmother made vegetable soup the way I think the Holy Spirit brings about unity among us. She would imagine what needed to go in the pot to make the soup taste just right. She would add the right vegetables to the pot, in the right order, at just the right time, so that when it was done, the soup was mixed to near perfection.

In a similar way, God takes who we are – as different as we all are from each other – and enables us not to just live together but to blend together in a way that makes our witness nourishment for the world. God’s power in the world rests in large part in our unity. We’re better together.

In ancient Greek literature there is a story that shows the power of working together, or synergism.

“An aged, dying father called his seven sons around him. He gave each one a stick and told them to break it. Each son easily broke his separate stick. The old father then bound seven sticks together, and gave the bundle to his eldest son and told him to break the bundle. The eldest son could not break it. Then the second son was commanded to try. He could not break it. Nor could any of the rest.

“So is it to be of you,” said the father. Alone you are weak, but together you are strong.”

Synergism is derived from the Greek word “synergos” meaning “working together.” It means that by joining with others, common objectives can be more easily and effectively accomplished. There is strength in numbers when we multiply our efforts through working with others.

We find strength in dwelling together in unity. God created us to be in community, and community makes us stronger. There’s an African proverb that says, “A finger can’t pick up a grain, it takes a whole hand.” The strength of our lives - the strength of the church and our community - depends not on a finger, but on the whole hand.

The apostle Paul used the image of the body to make this point. One body part is not sufficient for life. It takes all of the body parts working together to make the body work as it should.

So it is with the Body of Christ – the church. We’re better together. Maybe it was the case that the Israelites in the days when the psalmist penned this song were a lot like we are today. Maybe they needed to know, as we need to know today that we’re better together.

The popular song by Hezekiah Walker shares words that remind us of the very things that our lives depend on today:
I need you, you need me.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
Stand with me, agree with me.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
It is God’s will that every need be supplied.
You are important to me, I need you to survive.

I pray for you, you pray for me, I’ll pray for you.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
I won’t harm you with words from my mouth.
I love you. I need you to survive.

I simply came to remind us that we’re better together.

THROUGH...

(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 3/4/12)

"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me." (Psalm 23:4)


Like many of you, and many Christians around the world, I have found Psalm 23 to be a living Scripture. It is not unusual for Christians to be able to recite this particular text. In many ways, I would suggest that Psalm 23 has become the primary text for many of our lives – the theme song for many of us who live in the Judeo-Christian faith traditions.

David’s words, in many ways have become our words – words that speak to the depth and breadth of the human condition. For those who are lonely, these words serve as a comfort and companion. For the hurting, there’s healing. For those in despair, these are hopeful words.

These are life-giving words. And every time I read the 23rd Psalm or hear these words recited, something different seems to touch me. In reading through the text most recently, that which has come in and taken residence with me was the word “through.”

In the middle of this poetic text – this song of praise that David is singing here - he shares these memorable words:

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me."

If you know like I know, many of us have no problem relating to what David is saying here. What David is speaking of when he says, “Yea though I walk through…” is what Princeton philosopher Cornel West speaks of in terms of a certain nihilism that has taken residence in much of our life today. Indeed, as West suggests, a certain nihilism - a lovelessness, meaninglessness, and emptiness - even nothingness - seems to have pervaded our culture and permeated much our reality.

This nihilism is clearly evident in the fact that we have more African-American males in prison than in college today. Black and brown males are imprisoned at over 6times the rate of others in our country. This is what Dr. Michelle Alexander, in her book, calls the “New Jim Crow.”

This nihilism is also seen in the fact that unemployment and underemployment is rampant… it is witnessed in the fact that addiction and death ravages our city streets (in Baltimore there were nearly 200 murders in 2011, and the majority of these were of young African-American men under the age of thirty). The tragedy of this nihilism is that too much of our reality - in too many of our communities - is perpetually mired in depression and in despair.

And here in the 23rd Psalm, this nihilism – the very real ways that we are going through - is what David is trying to help us come to grips with. David described his own going through as a valley experience. In fact it was not just any valley - David called it the "valley of the shadow of death."

Eugene Peters in The Message translation of the text called this valley that David spoke of here as “Death Valley.” It was a valley filled with death and despair - no hope and no joy.

We don’t know exactly what the valley was that David was referring to here, but we do know he was talking about having gone through something:
• Maybe the valley that David is talking about was the attempts that King Saul had made on his David’s life.
• Maybe is it was his adulterous affair with Bathsheba.
• Maybe it was his murder of Bathsheba’s husband Uriah.

We don’t know exactly what it was, but David was talking about having gone through a very real valley experience in his life.

Many of us can relate on a personal level to what David was going through:
• Going through what Job declared as “days filled with trouble.”
• Going through what John of the Cross called "the dark night of the soul.”
• Going through what black sharecropper and political activist Fannie Lou Hamer described as being “sick and tired of being sick and tired.”
• Going through what the singer of the hymn said was “sometimes feeling like a motherless child – a long way from home.”
• Going through sleepless nights and darkened days.

Indeed we can relate to going through. And if you can’t relate, just live a little and you will:
• Sickness in your family
• Death at your doorstep
• Pink slip on your desk
• Can’t make it from paycheck to paycheck (more month than money)
• Marital problems
• Problems with children
• Children and women going through abuse and neglect
• This week, we pray for those going through natural disaster in the Midwest – where tornadoes have wreaked havoc and devastation.

Everybody will go through something at some point. David was talking about the very real predicament of going through. And if you know like I know, when you are going through, it can become easy to feel that you are “too through,” and want to give up and throw in the towel.

But lest we get stuck on David’s predicament of going through, let me remind us that it’s good that David did not stop with the fact that he had gone through or was going through something. In the midst of his going through, he didn’t stop his song there - he kept singing.

“...I will fear no evil. For (Lord) you are with me. Your rod and staff comfort me.”

David kept singing, because he knew that God would not bring him to anything that God would not take him through. This ought to be good news to somebody who has come to a crossroads in your life. If you are a person of faith, you can keep singing because you know that whatever God has brought you to, God will take you through.

And it’s even more good news to know that if you are going through, it means that you are not stuck.

And you can rejoice in knowing that your going through – your test - is really a precursor to your testimony. And that at the end of our coming to the difficult situations of life, and our going through these situations, God is really preparing our lives for a breakthrough.

The Apostle Paul talked about going through in this way in Romans 8 when he declared that “the suffering of this present day is not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed in us.” (v.18) And later in that chapter, Paul said that “all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to his purpose.” (v.28) Paul, like David, wanted to remind us that God wants to get some glory out of our going through.

And finally we see in Psalm 23 that when God brings us through, we ought to keep singing. David continued his song not by talking about going through, but by talking about the presence and provision of the Lord.

He said, “Thou prepareth a table for me in the presence of my enemies. My cup runs over.”

It’s good to know that God will provide all that we need, when we need it. And therefore David could end with a praise offering to God. He ended with a doxology - an act of praise to his God.

“Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

We may be going through, but thank God, we’re not going through alone. We may be going through, but it’s good to know that we have God’s grace and mercy to bring us through. We may be going through, but we know that with God, we’re coming out.

Sympathy

...I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!
(-Paul Lawrence Dunbar, "Sympathy")

AND YET THE MELODY LINGERS!

(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 2/26/12)

"... How do we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" (PSALM 137:4)

A few years ago, the popular singing group, “Earth, Wind and Fire” recorded a song in which the title encouraged us to “Sing a Song:”
“When you feel down and out…
Sing a song…It’ll make your day…
Here’s a time to shout…
Sing a song… It’ll make a way.
Sometimes it’s hard to care…
Sing a song…It’ll make your day…
A smile so hard to bear…
Sing a song… It’ll make a way.”


Indeed, there is something about the melodious music that we sing that serves to soothe our hearts, and lift our spirits. A good song can offer hope in despair, and bring us joy in sadness. A good song can make our day.

And if there is anything that we - the people of the African Diaspora - share in common – it is that we are a singing people. This is to say that if there is any one thing that defines African people, it is our ability and willingness to sing. This has been one of our stamps, one of our marks, that we are a singing people.

Over one hundred years ago, renowned sociologist, W.E.B. DuBois, in his classic work, "The Souls of Black Folk," shared that black people have offered three significant, indelible gifts to American life as a whole – (1) the gift of the sweat and brawn; (2) the gift of the spirit; and (3) the gift of the song and story.

We are a people of the song – a people of the rhythm - a people of the beat. Whether in the church or at the party, we have had a song to sing. Whether in the great cathedrals of the land, or the best of concert halls, it has been well-known that African peoples are people of the song. Whether the spirituals or the blues, jazz or gospel, hip-hop or reggae, we have been a singing people.

What is impressive in travels to the various corners of the earth is that African people - wherever we are physically located - and whatever our lot – are a singing people. Whether in Mutare, Zimbabwe, or Capetown, South Africa or Sierra Leone on the western shores of the African continent, it is evident that we are a singing people. In the Caribbean or Central and South America, or in any neighborhood in the United States, it is clear that African people are a singing people.

The Psalmist reminds us of the predicament of the Israelites in Psalm 137. Here they are, trapped in bondage by the rivers of Babylon… trapped in a strange land. Their captors asked the people of Israel to sing one of their songs of Zion. In their exile, they are provoked and prodded by their captors to sing their song. And in their desperation, the Israelites respond by asking a question, “How do we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”

The Israelites found themselves in no mood to sing. How were they supposed to sing in the midst of adversity? How were they to sing amidst exile, separation and alienation? They were in no mood to sing … trouble all around them… no hope and no joy. How were they supposed to sing the Lord’s song?

The turbulent and tempestuous nature of contemporary life can lead us to ponder this very same matter in 2012. How do we keep singing… and keep worshipping… and keep praising the Lord… and keep trusting in Jesus in the midst of adversity?

How do we sing in the midst of abject poverty and virulent racism? How do we sing in the midst of suffering and sickness? How can we sing amidst violence and death, where too many of our young people are dying on our streets? How do we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?

The Israelites teach us something about singing the Lord’s song. You see, it’s easy to sing when life is rosy and cozy. It’s not hard to sing when the bills are paid, and good health abounds. It’s easy to sing amidst comfort and convenience.

But the true challenge of singing comes amidst of the “strange land” situations of life. The diffulty of singing comes when the nights are darkest, and even the days are dim - when there is no money in the bank…when it seems that loved ones have forsaken you… when it seems that you’ve done all that you can do to stand.

This is why we need to take time every now and then to be reminded of the importance of our perpetual song, and our need to keep singing our song. We will all face "strange land" situations in life. There will be times for all of us when we sit beside the proverbial “Rivers of Babylon.”

We will all face moments of feeling separated and segregated from God, and from one another - times of lostness and alienation - times of desperation and disillusionment. It is in the strange lands – on the banks of Babylon - that we need to keep on singing our song.

And we need to know that it’s all right to ask, from time to time, “How can we sing God’s song?” It’s all right to talk to the Lord. For to ask the question indicates that we are still in conversation with God. This is an indication that we are still seeking and searching for the Lord to help us sing even though we may not feel like singing.

To ponder the question “how?” is to acknowledge - in the depths of our souls - that we may be bent, but we are not yet broken. We may be hurting, but we know that healing is possible. We may feel helpless and hopeless, but we know that if we hold on – our help is on the way. It’s all right to ask, “How do we keep on singing?”

The problem comes not in asking the question of “How do we sing?” The problem comes when we stop singing altogether. The problem comes when we feel that there is no use in singing. The real predicament of faith lies at the point where we sense that we may as well throw in the towel, give up, and stop singing. The problem really is evident when we stop singing the Lord’s song.

And so, we have to keep on singing. We are reminded of those who sang the blues. Those like Billie Holiday, Bessie Smith, B.B King, Muddy Watters and Etta James were really helping us to understand that whatever the circumstance… whatever the predicament, we have to keep on singing. Whatever blows have been directed our way, we need to keep on singing.

And it's good to know that persons of faith like Dr. Thomas Dorsey, Dr. Charles Tindley, Dr. Mattie Moss Clark, Rev. Shirley Ceasar, and Rev. James Cleveland were so inspired to take the blues, and turn it into Good News. These persons of faith knew that despite the blues, it was incumbent upon African people to keep on singing.

And so Tindley could sing:
When the storms of life are raging
(Lord) stand by me…
When the storms of life are raging
Stand by me
When the world is tossing me
Like a ship upon the sea
Thou who rulest wind and water
Stand by me…

And then Cleveland could come along years later and declare:
I don’t feel no ways tired
I’ve come too far from where I started from
Nobody told me that the Lord would be easy
I don’t believe (God) brought (us) this far to leave (us)…

LENT: MAKE A U-TURN

(This is an abridged version of the Ash Wednesday sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 2/22/12)

“Even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the LORD your God, for God is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and God relents from sending punishment.” (Joel 2:12-13)

The road signs are familiar to many of us, and often serve as a point of frustration. “No U-Turns” – the signs say, and they serve as an indicator that it is impermissible to change directions and to go another way. Thus, we are forced to continue going in a direction that we do not choose to go. We want to turn around, but we are not allowed to do so.

Often life itself is similar to the times when we are driving in the wrong direction. If the truth is told, there are things that each of us needs to change and adjust in our lives – things that we need to turn around. This is the purpose of Lent for the church and the people of God. These forty days leading up to Easter afford each of us an opportunity to take stock of our lives, and the direction in which we are going, and to seek – with God’s help - to change course as necessary.

This is the place where the people of Israel found themselves in their own faith journey. Joel’s instructions to the people are found in these words:
“Even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the LORD your God, for God is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and God relents from sending punishment.” (Joel 2:12-13)

The context here is the wickedness and waywardness of the people of Israel – God’s people. They had strayed away from the ways of the Lord. The prophet’s message includes words of judgment and repentance. Joel here is urging the people of God to turn away from their sin, and turn back to God with their whole hearts - to make a U-turn.

For people of faith, to make a U-turn is to repent. Lent is really about repentance. Repentance calls each of us to turn away from sin and to turn back to God. To repent, in essence, is to turn around.

The message of Joel is as appropriate today as it was in his day. We look at the events that continue to take place around us. A look at our daily news clearly shows us that drugs and violence continue to ravage and demoralize our communities. Our society is increasing polarized along political, economic and racial lines. It seems that people are ever more likely to fuss and fight, than we are to seek peace with justice.

Our season of Lent, then begins with our acknowledgement that we have gone astray and need to make a U-turn in some aspect of life. This is to acknowledge as the apostle Paul reminds us that “we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God.” And it is to live in the hope that ultimately, God loved us so much that as Paul also declares, “God demonstrated God’s love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

The good news is that with God, U-turns are indeed permitted. In-fact God wants us (wills and desires for us) to make a U-turn. It is at the point that we decide to turn around and turn back to God, that God’s forgiveness becomes real for us.

What are some of the things you need forgiveness for?

After encouraging the people of God to turn back to the Lord, Joel declares that the Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.

Many people have become accustomed to giving something up during Lent as a form of self-sacrifice. But in as much as we might decide to give up some material things, Lent is also about journeying, and searching for God, and seek a closer walk with the Lord, with the hope and prayer that as we press our way toward Easter, there will be real signs of renewed life and resurrection for us.

In other words, the Lord desires to walk with us on this Lenten journey – as we make a U-turn.

It’s good to know that as we engage in this wilderness journey called Lent, Jesus also went on a journey like ours. We are told that Jesus lingered in the wilderness for 40 days. In the wilderness he got hungry and tired, and was tempted by Satan. But each time he got weak, the Lord looked to God, his father, for help.

They tell us that he bore an old-rugged cross at Calvary. We can imagine that the Lord wanted to give up… that he wanted to quit, as the burdens on his life got heavier and heavier.

But Jesus suffered, bled and died for you and me. Isaiah tells us that "he was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of the world was upon him… and by his wounds we are healed.”

The good news is that he suffered, bled and died so that we might make U-turns in our lives.

At the cross, at the cross,
Where I first saw the light,
And the burdens of my heart rolled away.
It was there by faith,
I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day…