In 1981 I had two season tickets to the Cleveland Browns home
games. Eight seats in the row just
behind mine where also occupied by season ticket holders, but the two seats
next to mine were not and, as a result, were filled by different fans each
game. On a cold, December day, two black
men bought tickets to those seats. The
eight men behind me were white. Just
before halftime a confrontation erupted that nearly broke out into a
fight. The eight men had been kneeing
the two black men and making racially provocative statements. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and
everyone settled down. I don’t know what
happened just after the beginning of the third quarter, but one of the black
men had had enough. He stood up, turned
around, and swung his heavy metal thermos at a man seated behind him, knocking
him upside the head. With that, all hell
broke loose. Eventually security came
and took away the two black men and three of the white men seated behind
me. Midway through the fourth quarter
those three men reappeared and called for the cheers of many seated in our
section. As they sat down, one of their
friends asked them what happened. One of
the three now released fans replied, “We showed them our badges and they
believed us.” I was twenty-one years old
at the time and that is when I learned first-hand that off-duty, suburban
police officers could and did instigate a violent confrontation for reasons
grounded only in race.
In almost forty years of driving I have been ticketed by a police
officer maybe five times. I recognize
these as times to be calm, respectful, and compliant. One incident stays with me to this day. I was on a date with a striking blond-haired
young woman, when I was pulled over for going 39 MPH in a 35 MPH zone. The officer, a man in his late 20’s, did his
best to intimidate and embarrass me. It
occurred to me that the only reason he pulled me over and the only reason he
was treating me this way was to humiliate me in front of my attractive passenger. Every person of color I know has at least one
story like this, the only difference being they were pulled over because of the
color of their skin and the intimidation was much more severe than my tame
experience.
The season of Advent is a season of longing; longing for a healing of the
ills that infect our world and our common life; longing for a Savior who will
deliver us from sin and evil. This morning
we hear our God speak through the words of the prophet Isaiah:
For I the LORD love justice,
I hate robbery and wrongdoing.
Our nation is founded on the idea that all people are endowed by the
Creator with certain inalienable rights and our history as a people is marked
by the difficult struggle to make this a reality for all people. We have made tremendous progress over the
centuries to live more fully into the implications of the values we hold, but
events in Ferguson, MO and Staten Island highlight the painful truth that we
have more work to do.
I am sure we here this morning hold many different views on the legal
questions surrounding the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner. I am confident that we all condemn looting,
vandalism, and violent protesting. We
may have questions or concerns about the role the media and social media play
in fueling discontent. But surely we can
agree these incidents have brought to the surface deep divisions in our society
created by ongoing inequality that leads to anger, brokenness, and mistrust.
In a letter to the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori, our
Presiding Bishop, wrote that our first response to this tragic reality is deep
lament. She also called on Episcopalians
to work for reconciliation so that each person will live in “the justice for
which we were all created.” It is this
vision we hold up as the reign of God in our world. What specifically is lacking at this point,
as I see it, is that people of color have experienced incidents of police
misconduct and brutality on the basis of race alone and believe that the legal
system is tilted against them in terms of receiving justice.
I in no part believe those eight white police officers at the football
game are representative of the majority of law enforcement officials in our
country. They are a small minority among
those who courageously and selflessly do a very difficult and demanding
job. But there are police officers who
abuse their authority because, as I said before, every African-American I know
can tell at least one first-hand story of being mistreated for no reason other
than the color of his/her skin. This
simply should not be.
I was told a story about our own Jim Moore, a judge here in
Suffolk. One day a white police officer
brought before his bench a courtroom filled exclusively with black people cited
for traffic violations. Judge Moore
dismissed every single case with one motion.
We need the system to hold those in authority to the highest possible
standard if we are going to have faith and trust in our judicial system. That it works well for me is not reason for
me to turn a blind eye on those for whom it does not.
This is not just a timely topic for a sermon. It is an implication of living into
Advent. In this season we long for
light, for truth, for reawakening, for the dawn of a new day. On the second Sunday of Advent we read from
the 85th Psalm:
Mercy and truth have met together; *
righteousness
and peace have kissed each other.
Truth shall spring up from the earth, *
and
righteousness shall look down from heaven.
“Truth shall
spring up from the earth.” What a
beautiful image depicting the necessity for us as a society (and us in the
church) to be honest about our collective shortcomings. “Righteousness shall look down from
heaven.” There is a link between the
truth-telling we do in this world and the blessing of righteousness that God
pours upon us.
A resource put
out by the Episcopal Church made this observation:
Christ was born in the midst of a divided and violent society. The Word was made flesh among a people who
faced bias from their neighbors and persecution from the occupying Romans.
Jesus modeled a different kind of community. Jesus broke bread with outcasts and sinners,
with religious authorities and Roman officials. Jesus pointed to a vision of the new
community, and invites us to the difficult work of reconciliation.
I was just a child during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s and
most of what I know about it comes to me as history rather than actual
experience. Those protests saw their
share of looting and violence to be sure.
But as a whole, it was deeply rooted in something spiritual; in the
Judeo-Christian tradition of biblical justice.
Many of its leaders were religious figures who instructed the oppressed
to act as Jesus taught us; turning the other cheek, walking the extra mile,
forgiving others in order to be forgiven.
And those who protested and paid a great price for their witness received
from their faith patience, strength, comfort, hope, and joy.
I wonder about the connection between faith and our current
protests. There are clergy that are
involved, local churches that very much are present and engaged, and leaders from
various denominations who are speaking out.
But this is a different country than it was in Civil Rights era and
religion is not central in the lives of many people. It seems to me that our voice and witness is
on the periphery at best. We are voice
crying out in the wilderness, but few, I fear, are listening.
I set out this fall to do something that I still have not done. I wanted to get together with some of my
African-American clergy colleagues here in town in order to learn what they
think about all of this. I am curious
about their congregations and what their members’ experiences have been like
here in Suffolk. I wonder how far it is
from Suffolk to Ferguson – not in terms of miles, but in terms of
experience. I wondered if our
congregations could come together to listen and to learn from one another. Maybe, with a little encouragement from all
of you, I will take that step to reach out.
I was very moved by John McCain’s speech on the Senate floor after the
release of the report on torture. You
may or may not agree with his position, but his foundational understanding of
America is spot on.
When we fight to defend our security we fight also for an
idea… that all men are endowed by the Creator with inalienable rights. How much safer the world would be if all
nations believed the same. How much more
dangerous it can become when we forget it ourselves even momentarily.
I feel the same way about the issues and concerns raised by the deaths
of Michael Brown and Eric Garner. How
much better would our society be if everyone was treated equally by the law and
had confidence in the judicial system?
How much poorer we are when some people are targeted for abuse because
of race and the system appears titled against them!
In Advent we wait and hope
for a Savior. When our Savior comes, the
easiest place for me to welcome the Holy One is in my own heart; to allow God’s
Incarnate Word to change me, to fill me, and work through me. I suppose from there the Savior can begin to
do the same in my family, among my friends, in my neighborhood, in our church, in
our community, in our society, and eventually in our world. But the Kingdom of God, if it is going to
start anywhere, is going to have to start with me and with you. O come thou long expected one. Our hearts and minds are open. We long for your reign of peace and goodwill.
