Praying for a nation's healing and peace among the nations (Matthew 18:21-35,September 11, 2011)

                  This morning’s sermon comes by way of two tools:  words and silence.  Sometimes, we have all of the words, perhaps basketfuls of them, all rushing out of us in a great torrent of explanation or insight.  Other times, the best way to understand the world is just to be silent, putting aside our impulse to control or regain control of the situation that bothers or frightens.  In our world of 24/7 opinions and punditry swirling around the ever-present TV screen or net-capable handheld device of choice, silence seems a decreasingly less likely source of inspiration for how to respond.

                   The first inkling I had that something had gone horribly wrong came by listening to the car radio.  Kerry and I drove across Kansas City to drop her off at a seminary ministry internship site.   No need for the radio, we kept our conversation going about the little things of life:  grocery lists, household things to take care of later in the day.  After we got to Kerry’s internship, I turned around to make the quick trip back home and turned on the radio.

The usual tone of National Public Radio morning news broadcasts is usually one of enviable polish and professionalism.  Instead, within just moments of listening, I was aware something was not right.  The NPR reporters were pausing, near stammering as they relayed the initial reports of what would be several shocks that grim morning ten years ago. 

Hijacked passenger jet planes crashed into both of the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, the latter crash site due to passengers thwarting the crash planned for Washington, DC.  Both of the World Trade Center towers would collapse, as well as a section of the Pentagon. 

Thousands died.

 (Silence.)  

 Ten years later, we sit in the midst of words and silence perhaps no further along the path toward the explanations or the closure we have been seeking for some time now.  Yet I suggest we take the words and the silence as tools for helping us.  For some, the words may help us name the lingering grief or the anger still smoldering within.  Words help us name the sense of powerlessness we felt that day.  Words help us navigate our way through the complex issues of politics, society, culture, economics, and religion that have continued to arise as we live in what’s aptly termed “a post-9/11 world”. 

For some, keeping silence may help us resist saying hasty, sharp words that may feel good but keep worsening the wounds we harbor.  Silence may grant us a reprieve from feeling like we have to figure out the tangled knots within our minds and hearts.  Silence may be the best way for heated arguments to regain civility as we continue to differ on what the right path should be for our nation, the many nations as our country and the world reel from conflicts tracing their origin from the tragic events of September 11, 2001.

(Silence.)

In the weeks after 9/11, I found myself wondering what should be said from the pulpit.  Ten years ago, preaching was not a regular weekly habit, as I was still learning the ropes.  Nonetheless, I had two Sundays in a row (rare then) when I was asked to speak at area churches in Kansas City.  They happened to be the two Sundays immediately after 9/11.

Tensions and grief were high.  People were still trying to name what they felt, and we were all feeling especially vulnerable, wondering if additional attacks were on the verge.  What would Sunday morning be like as we gathered to pray and sing and listen to the Word?

The Sunday just after 9/11 was in a congregation I knew fairly well.  I had some rapport from previous times, so I knew it was a group quite okay with a preacher leading them in the balance between words and silence.  The second Sunday, I was out in a rural community in Kansas.  I had some trepidation about going there, as I wondered what the mood would be.  My gut feeling said, “Tread carefully.”

I arrived early enough that an older adult education class was using the sanctuary for Sunday School, which preceded the worship hour.  The class had me sit in while they finished their session.  As you could imagine, the pre-planned scripture study was left to the side.  People were still talking out how they were dealing with the events of the past couple of weeks. 

One old farmer reached into his pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping.  My gut went into a bit of knot, as my experience growing up in Kansas was generally of the old-timers usually bringing newspaper clippings into the coffee shop, the diner, the barber shop, or yes, even Sunday School classrooms, to air their thoughts (mostly grievances) about what they had read in the paper.  So, I did what I had learned to do:  I braced myself for what would likely be something blistering.

The old timer read the news article he had found just that morning from the Kansas City Star, the “metro/big city paper” read in that part of Kansas.  The press release announced an interfaith prayer gathering to be led primarily by leading Christian, Jewish, and Muslim clergy of the area.  I watched the crowd for any reaction when the word “Muslim” was read.

The old timer finished reading the article, put the clipping back in his pocket, and said, “I think we should all go.”

There were some nods around the room and the gentle murmur of “Amen.”

(Silence.)

The lectionary cycle of scripture readings a decade ago just so happened to have the gospel’s parables of God looking for the lost.  That word “lost” had a misfortunate ring to it, given the continuing news stories of families trying to discover if a loved one survived.  Some clergy admitted shying away from the parables suggested for the day.  Others claimed there was a certain strength to be drawn from these particular parables, a word of hope that God is with us, even in times when we feel the most vulnerable or afraid.

Today, the lectionary suggested another parable (Matthew 18:21-35), one dealing with forgiveness with especial care given to forgive with full awareness of the transgressions and wrongs that occurred.  The unforgiving slave was given great mercy.  He chose not to do the same for another. 

I do not presume to give a “one size fits all” sermon on how forgiveness should be worked out in relation to the great tragedy of 9/11.  Nonetheless, we should look carefully at theological reflection arising from other circumstances where Christians have been asked to place their faith’s teachings to the test when other great, unimaginable evil has been wrought.  Many Christians elsewhere in the world bear witness to an understanding that forgiveness is a difficult and sometimes slow, measured process.  I cite Desmond Tutu’s writings on leading the “Truth and Reconciliation Process” for a post-apartheid South Africa having to deal with apartheid’s many complexities.  Like Tutu, many works from the global Christian family testify that forgiveness is inescapably part of Christian reflection. Tutu warns that there is no future without forgiveness, and I ponder where we are at, even a decade later, with resolving the questions raised by 9/11.

I do see part of the pathway from that time to today has been made easier to travel thanks in part to the interfaith movement. Public opinion began to rage about the role of religion in the world. Many voices wondered if any religion should be deemed credible, let alone a radicalized fundamentalism observed by the hijackers or the type of fundamentalism being broadcast in the aftermath of 9/11 by Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, as they claimed the attacks came about due to America not following God.  As I said back then, I say now, “Jerry and Pat, if you believe that’s how God acts, it’s time to find a better theology.”)  I lament, and continue to lament, the “guilt by association” endured by American Muslims and other people in this country.  I note with hope that a decade onwards, American Baptists are one of many Christian groups endeavoring to foster friendly and respectful ties with Muslim groups.

If I see any sense of future, I see hope coming in the form of people reaching out and being humane toward one another. The interfaith movement here in Bennington has been a gift not only in times of adversity (the 1970s fuel crisis birthed the Council, the flood response of the past two weeks is one of many affirmations of the Council’s value to this community), the Council and related groups and programs serve as a counter-witness to the negative spin about religion.  Together, even though we are different and seek varying pathways toward our spiritual beliefs and practices and worldviews, the interfaith-minded congregations of Bennington give me hope that we can move ahead.

Such work is done with a spirit of humility, a desire not to alienate but to include, and raise up the common good together instead of grasp and struggle for control, the others underfoot.   We may not believe the same, but we hope for a common good within humanity.

This past week, a number of organizations shared resources for worship on this Sunday morning, laden as it is with the memory of this difficult day of September.  Greg Ledbetter, a Baptist minister from California and ties to Vermont, shared these words via one of the Baptist denominations, the Alliance of Baptists:

Long let us dream, our dreams of sibling nations,

Long let us hope, that warfare ends for all,

Long let us pray, for children loved and loving.

Long let us work, responding to your call.

God, help our hearts expand to new horizons,

                  Where love creates a future shared by all. 

Remarks on MLK, Jr. Day 2011

During the 2011 MLK Jr. Day celebration, the Peace Resource Center and the Greater Bennington Interfaith Council co-hosted a conversation on marginalization and the beloved community.  Rabbi Joshua Boettiger shared reflections on marginalization followed by the remarks of First Baptist's Coordinating Minister the Rev. Jerrod Hugenot, who offered the following overview of King's use of the phrase "the beloved community":

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Exploring the idea of “the beloved community”, I note that to understand this concept, one could spend a great deal of time tracing the biblical, theological and philosophical influences on King’s thinking.  Oddly enough, King himself did not give a “textbook” definition, preferring to speak of the concept of “the beloved community” in the midst of his sermons and speeches as he addressed matters at hand.  There was some fluidity to his concept, yet in short, the beloved community became King’s “shorthand” for a greater vision for the deeply divided and fractured communities and the nation, where relationships matter deeply and difference is honored unreservedly.  Creating the beloved community “will be done by rejecting the racism, materialism, and violence that has characterized Western civilization and especially by working toward a world of brotherhood, cooperation, and peace.”  (King, early 1966)

King grew up aware of the oppressive pressures and the invisibility imposed upon him by a majority disinterested in being questioned for its habits or beliefs.    King’s first realization of a contrary witness, the “beloved community”, came from his upbringing in the Ebenezer Baptist Church, in Altanta, where his father, MLK, JR., served as long-time minister. 

One of King’s many biographers Richard Lischer suggests that the church of King’s boyhood experiences modeled an alternative witness:

In this church everybody could be ‘somebody.  Those of humble occupation could claim the dignity and positions of leadership that were denied them in a white society.  In the black church, a barber or a redcap [conductor] could become an elder; a seamstress might lead the Woman’s Missionary Union….[Preaching was a shared task: preacher and congregation in dialogue.]  The Word became the achievement of the group.”—Richard Lischer, The Preacher King, Oxford University Press)

Such a “beloved community” planted seeds for King’s later career.  As King spoke to activists, to sanitation workers on strike, to a nation embroiled in Vietnam, to people seeking a non-violent alternative to the turbulent violence of the 1960s, King kept referencing a vision that would be kept distant only by our inaction, our refusal to seek justice.  In 1956, King spoke of

“A new world in which men will live together as brothers; a world in which men will beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks; a world in which men will no longer take necessities from the masses to give luxuries to the classes; a world in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of all human personality.”—King, Address to the First Annual Institute on Nonviolence and Social Change (1956)

The “beloved community” is in brief what King knows will take struggle and hardship to achieve, yet moving toward a community where no persons are left in the invisibility of marginalization and oppression, where human dignity and worth is not considered optional, is well worth the effort. 

To do anything less would be to allow unjust systems remain in place and persons consigned to a spiral of violence and a steep ladder of privilege that few can climb.  In his aptly titled 1967 book “Where do we go from here: Chaos or Community?”, King observes, “All life is interrelated. The agony of the poor enriches the rich. We are inevitably our brother’s keeper because we are our brother’s brother. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly".

Exploring King’s ‘beloved community,' we realize we have a choice how we live in community with one another. We can choose poorly or wisely. Unfortunately such conversations are often lost in the civility-challenged discourse of the day.  The question inevitably arises about King if he were to be still alive today.  Would he would continue to ponder when his dream for this country will see fulfillment? We have come far, yet there are still persons who live with basic human needs going unmet.

King would be likely unsurprised that we are not completely there yet, though he would ask some hard questions, not necessarily of society but of those who claim his legacy and witness.  Have we continued to keep to our own commitments to bring about the beloved community?  Have we perhaps grown cool to the thought of his vision?  King offers no easy answers, yet when he spells out the “end results” of such efforts, can we argue that this future is not worth working toward?  He offers:

When the years have rolled past and when the blazing light of truth is focused on this marvelous age in which we live, men and women will know and children will be taught that we have a finer land, a better people, a more noble civilization, because these humble children of God were willing to ‘suffer for righteousness’ sake.’”—From King’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech

Help for Haitians (published in the Bennington Banner, 1/30/2010)

Interfaith Efforts to Help Haitians

The Rev. Jerrod H. Hugenot

            It can be unsettling to watch the 11 PM newscast, with the stories of Haiti’s struggle to deal with the after-effects of its recent earthquake.  The images flicker across the screen, drawing the world into age-old questions of suffering, the randomness of the world’s chaotic nature.  For some faith traditions, persons ponder questions of divine presence or absence when a major disaster strikes. 

            While we wrestle with the “why?” questions, the international efforts to coordinate disaster relief and humanitarian aid speak volumes to the good humanity can bring about in troubling times.  The same newscasts now turn to the stories of supplies and personnel being sent to coordinate care, admittedly with the inevitable concerns that not enough is getting where it is most critically needed.  Email and social networking sites bring stories otherwise unreported, sometimes of a loved one’s whereabouts, sometimes vignettes of the struggle at hand to find adequate food, medical help, and shelter.  The global village is pitching in right now, though I hear Newsweek editor Jon Meacham’s lament the U.S. has tended to care about Haiti, one of the world’s most economically challenged nations not that faraway from our mainland, only when “something really, really miserable happens there.”

            Locally, the stories of Haiti relief are remarkable. The Banner has covered a number of wonderful efforts by individuals and organizations in town. A Haitian living in the area remarked to me that the efforts are inspiring, a reflection of the human spirit at its best. 

            For local congregations, the Haitian earthquake has created a variety of responses.  I contacted fellow representatives of the Greater Bennington Area Interfaith Council to learn how their faith communities have gotten involved in the efforts.  For some congregations, Haiti is home to established programs and personnel underwritten by denominational and ecumenical agencies.  For others, this might be the first direct connection a local congregation has made with short or long-term aid and support efforts.

            Rabbi Joshua Boettiger notes Congregation Beth El is providing assistance through the American Jewish World Service (www.ajws.org).  The organization has established a Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund.  Direct donations to AJWS can be made online.

            Congregants of the First Baptist Church (ABC/USA) and the Second Congregational Church (UCC), both of Bennington, are sending funds through “One Great Hour of Sharing”, an ecumenical effort to support humanitarian aid, administered through their respective denominational offices and the ecumenical Church World Service.

The Rev. Mary Lee-Clark also notes the public is invited to help with creating “health and hygiene kits” for distribution by the Church World Service (www.churchworldservice.org).  The kits are simple to create.  In an one-gallon Ziploc bag, place one wide tooth comb, a hand towel, a washcloth, six band-aids, a toothbrush still in its packaging, a pair of nail clippers, and $2 for processing.  Persons can also donate money for kits.  Make any financial donations to “Second Congregational Church” with “Haiti relief” or “CWS Kit Postage” in the memo lines.

The Rev. Dr. Anita Schell-Lambert, rector of St. Peter's Episcopal Church, notes her parish, “has adopted a twofold response to the crisis in Haiti.  First, PRAY: Hold all of the people of Haiti, and all those with friends and loved ones in Haiti, in your prayers and secondly, GIVE: The most immediate thing Americans can do is give to the relief effort.”

Dr. Schell-Lambert notes, “Episcopal Relief & Development has disbursed emergency funding to the Diocese of Haiti to help meet critical needs such as food, water and shelter for those affected, and stands ready to support the country's ongoing recovery and rebuilding efforts in the days to come. For more information and ways to respond financially, including through the Episcopal Relief & Development, go to St.Peter's website, www.stpetersbennigntonvt.org and go to “Haiti suffers devastating earthquake.”

Many denominations receive donations throughout the year, creating a pool of money for domestic and international crisis situations.  The Bennington Friends Meeting (Quakers) notes the American Friends Service Committee has sent $100,000 already.  The Meeting’s representative Bain Davis notes the AFSC is already working on plans to help with long-term rebuilding initiatives.  Likewise, the American Baptist Churches/USA has distributed $65,000 out of its reserve funds for emergency humanitarian aid. 

Haiti is a place where U.S. religious organizations have had long established partnerships. (For example, American Baptists have worked in Haiti since 1823!)  The presence of dedicated personnel and cooperative U.S./Haitian partnerships has been quite helpful in this time of critical need.  Four long-term American Baptist missionaries assigned to Haiti for medical and educational work are coordinating medical care and humanitarian work in coordination with the Haitian Baptist Convention. Likewise, the United Church of Christ maintains ongoing efforts with Church World Service, the National Spiritual Council of Churches of Haiti, and the House of Hope.  Haitian churches across the United States, including the First French Speaking/Haitian Baptist Church of Manchester, NH, are becoming key places for Haitians to coordinate care.

The Bennington Unitarian Universalist Fellowship will be offering a Haitian dinner fundraiser.  The idea started with the UU Fellowship’s board wondering what they could do to make a difference.  On Saturday, February 6, the UU Fellowship will host the dinner, featuring a variety of Haitian foods ($15/at the door).  The proceeds will benefit Haiti Relief.  Call the UU Meetinghouse at (802) 440-9816 to reserve tickets. A Haitian Peace Quilt, handmade by a Haitian women's cooperative is also being raffled ($5/ticket) to raise additional funds. The drawing for the Peace Quilt will be held on June 15. Funds raised from the raffle will benefit both Haitian relief and UUFB social action work.

If you would like to help with donating funds or supplies via an area faith community, please do so! You will find religious organizations are often at their best when engaged in such important work. The generosity of local religious communities is well known through the common work of the Food & Fuel Fund and the support of the Bennington Free Clinic.  Likewise, when it comes to the rest of the world, our local interfaith community shares its love of neighbor with those near and far alike.

The Rev. Jerrod H. Hugenot serves as coordinating minister of the First Baptist Church of Bennington, Vermont.  To correspond:  fbpastor@sover.net

Remarks at the centennial celebration of Congregation Bethel (end of Hanukkah, Decmeber 18, 2009, 2 Tevet 5770)

I am grateful to be your guest as you celebrate the last night of Hanukkah and as you mark the centennial of your religious community’s presence within the greater Bennington area.  I suppose this is quid pro quo, as Joshua was the guest of First Baptist when we celebrated a mighty big Pentecost service earlier in 2009.  When Joshua asked me to come and speak, I said yes immediately.  You make wonderful challah, which I will be stuffing under my jacket before night’s end.  Joshua is a great colleague to have.  In fact, in my book, he ranks almost as highly as Jon Stewart…..

On behalf of the Greater Bennington Area Interfaith Council, blessings on this sacred occasion!

In the midst of a holy season, celebrated down the centuries, and this year, celebrating the passage of a century of your witness, it is a time to give thanks and remember your holy story of the Divine’s faithfulness and the tenacity and determination of your congregants, past and present, to bring Beth El through the past century.

Joshua notes the Torah portion for the evening tells of the stories of Joseph, whose dreams were not understood at first by others.  These stories are befitting an occasion such as this night, as you celebrate a past and commit to a future.  To dream is to open oneself to imagination and to make malleable our otherwise callused worldviews. 

This night, as you celebrate the wonder of yet another night of plenty when the odds said it should be otherwise, it is a good night to tell stories of the many Jews who made their livelihoods and spiritual home here in Bennington.  It is a good night to recall the witness of rabbis past and present, especially emeritus and incumbent here in this room, two faith leaders who have led the many faiths of Bennington to be more engaged in social justice initiatives.  It is a good night to dance with the Torah, recalling these same floorboards that have creaked under the feet of now nearly four generations.  It is a good night to pray, to listen, and then to eat together, sharing this sacred moment before journeying onwards into a second century.

It is a good night to dream.