![]() |
|||||
![]() |
|||||
| Luke 15:1-10 September 16, 2001 2nd Sunday of Domiontide (CoH season) Year C Title: Beauty AND Beast (Broadway Series—World Trade Center Bombing) Theme: The events of the last week have reminded us that we are a mixture of incredible goodness and unspeakable horror. Self- righteousness can make us all beasts—and send us into the wilderness until we are brought back home. The events of the last few days have been a horror show, events that I know most of us thought could never happen has happened have happened, haven’ they? I keep thinking that we as a nation will never be the same, that life will never feel as secure for us as it once did, though I think many of you here can relate to being robbed of your sense of security when Timothy McVeigh walked away from a Ryder truck full of explosives in downtown Oklahoma City some 6 years ago. I wasn’t here, of course, but I do remember watching the events unfold on a television set one morning when I was a seminary student in Atlanta. Moments like the bombing here 6 years ago and the horror of the past few days have become etched in our minds as markers of time—there is a before and there is an after. Time becomes divided from now on—Tuesday was one of those days for all of us, I think. We will now forever trade stories of where we were and what we were doing when we found out what had happened in New York, in Washington, D.C, and Pennsylvania. And I think the question before us is not so much the question of “why,” though I think that such a question is a very valid and worthwhile question, but rather the question before us is the “what” question, the “what shall we do with this moment, what can we learn about ourselves as humans in light of this madness, this insanity?” This week we had scheduled Beauty and the Beast as the musical that would tie into our Scripture for this week, but week’s events have shifted the focus, though I think the Scripture before us and the musical Beauty and the Beast still have something to tell us, especially in light of what has happened. The Scripture especially reminds us that we humans really are a mixture of incredible beauty, that we are so valuable to God that God will take the chance of losing more sheep for our sake, that she will seek us until we are found, until we are home. We are so valuable in God’s eyes that God takes chances with us, that God takes chances in his pursuit of us. But the beginning of this passage reminds us of the shadow side of human beings, the sinful side of human beings, that side of us that wishes to so easily divide up the world between sinners and saints, between those who are in and those who are out. And this desire to divide up the world leads to the sin of self-righteousness, to this arrogance that says that “I am in and you, you are out.” It is the sin of the Pharisees, who have so quickly decided that the people Jesus was talking to were beasts of this world and they, they were, in fact, the beauty of God’s creation, the righteous ones. But the harsh reality is that we really are a mixture of beauty, of goodness, and beast, of shadows and sometimes evil. The Pharisees didn’t get it—they thought they were beautiful—which, in fact, they were, but where the Pharisees went wrong was to think they were ONLY beautiful. They failed to recognize that they too were as ambiguous as the people they condemned, that they too were a mixture, an ambiguous mixture of good and evil, light and shadows, life and death. Self-righteousness, that arrogance that we are only light and that we are free of shadows, that arrogance makes us into beasts, makes us into Pharisees, makes us into ugliness itself. You know, self-righteousness makes us do horrible, horrible things. It makes extremists think that somehow, someway, it is justifiable to take planes full of people and plow them into buildings full of yet more people. It makes extremists think that their cause is so just and the need for attention so important that they are willing to kill mothers and fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers, brothers and sisters, and children, our children. Self-righteousness makes the Pharisees think that they are righteous and these tax collectors are sinners, that these people, these nasty people, are not even worth being welcomed by Jesus. Self- righteousness makes the physically beautiful young prince in Beauty and the Beast sneer at the ugly woman at his door, only to find that real beauty was within rather than without. Self-righteousness divides up the world between good and evil and yet it fails to recognize that deep division within each of us. Self-righteousness divides up the world between “us” and “them” and fails so miserably to see that such division doesn’t exist, at least not in Jesus’ eyes. In fact, Jesus, I think, tells a little story of how God pursues the lost, how God will leave the “righteous” to find the lost. This is a story of how much God loves us, but it also a story told with the express purpose of slapping the face of the Pharisees, because I think Jesus is being a little bit sarcastic here. I don’t think he really believes that the world is divided up between righteous and unrighteous and that he thinks that the tax collectors and sinners are the only ones who are lost and the Pharisees are really the righteous ones. Rather, I think Jesus is being very sarcastic here so that he can point to the fact that those who realize that they are in need of grace, that those who know of their need to simply say, “I am sorry,” both to God and to others, that they are the ones who really get it. Jesus knows that these Pharisees need to repent as well, especially of their arrogance, but, because of their self-righteousness, they cannot recognize the beast within, and so for them it is so easy to divide up the world between us and them, and because the world is so easily divided up between us and them, they can do all sorts of things to those they have decided who are evil, to those they have decided are the “them” of this world. Certainly that is what the hijackers did on Tuesday—they did not recognize the shadow side of themselves OR their cause, whatever it was, and so they could find justification for erasing the lives of others for their own self-righteous reasons. They have failed to recognize their own need for grace, their own need for healing, their own need for repentance, their own need for recognition that the beast resides within each of us, and how it can make us do such horrible, horrible things to each other. The truth is that the hands that shoveled the bodies into the ovens at Auschwitz and Bergenbelsen during the Nazi Holocaust were the same hands that tucked children into their beds at night. It is a failure of self-recognition that causes hijackers and Pharisees and even us, to do the horrible things that we do to each other sometimes. The scary thing for us right now is that we may, in our just outrage at this horrible, horrible event, that we will fail to recognize that beast within and we too will be overtaken by our own self-righteousness. I heard from the lips of Colin Powell this week that it was time to do away with our policy of worrying about “collateral damage” in our military retaliation to these terrorists—collateral damage, in military terms, is the death and killing of men, women, and children who are accidentally killed in a military action. Actually, that is the same mentality that justifies what those terrorists did on Tuesday—their self-righteousness justified the “collateral damage” of those people in the Pentagon and in the World Trade Center in the war they think they are fighting with us. What has made this country great is that we do care about people—that “collateral damage” is not how we refer to other human beings—or should ever refer to other human beings. We must seek justice, not revenge, no matter how instinctual that desire for revenge is, no matter how the beast within us feels justified to treat our enemies the same way that we have been treated by them. This past week an Islamic mosque in Dallas was attacked, and one of the people who did this misguided act of revenge towards a people who were not at fault, said that he hated Arabs and he always had. Hate gathers a mob and attacks innocent people, saying self- righteously, that whether or not they did it personally, they, they— remember how self-righteousness divides up the world, us and them— they must pay for it. It sure sounds exactly like the self-righteous justification of the terrorists who did these monstrous deeds on Tuesday morning, doesn’t it? The question is whether or not we will decide to return beastly behavior with beastly behavior or whether we will choose the path of Jesus and choose what is most beautiful about us as God’s creation—which is that incredible capacity for justice and mercy at the same time. I also want to say that I think that this is one of most difficult moments in the history of this country, and I think it will show forth the kind of people we really are. We must bring the people who did this to justice, no doubt—that is the righteous and just thing to do. But let’s not become self-righteous, let’s not do what the Pharisees did in this passage, when they failed to recognize the beast within, when they failed to recognize their own capacity to do such horrible acts of hate and destruction. When we choose to be a people of beauty, when we choose to be a people of love—yes, yes, an incredible thing to say at this moment—we break that endless cycle of hate and retribution, something the people of the Middle East have spent hundreds of years experiencing and suffering from, when we choose love and not revenge, when we choose justice and not vengeance, we can transform the world. And I also don’t want us to ever forget that we are also good, that we as God’s creation are capable of incredible, incredible beauty and goodness. You see that in the people’s reaction and their willingness to help in anyway after this horrific series of events—and you saw that goodness here 6 years ago during the aftermath of the Murrah bombing. You know, Jesus in this passage reminds us that we are worth so much, even in our ambiguity, even in our personal mixture of good and evil, and that we are worth taking a huge chance on, both on a cross, and as a single sheep valuable enough to take the chance of leaving 99 others unattended so that we can be found, so that we can come home again to our tribe, to the other 99. If we want to be righteous, if we want to be truly good people, we must recognize who we really are—our beauty, our incredible beauty, and we must be able to recognize the shadows, the deep shadows within us, that make do horrible, brutal things to each other. The good news is that God has seen our hearts, our ambiguous, tortured hearts and said that all of us, ALL of us, are worth taking a chance on. Amen and amen. |
|||||