Sermon for June 7, 2020 Holy Trinity Sunday, year A House of Prayer Lutheran Church
Matthew 28:16-20; Genesis 1:26-31 Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
It’s been another hard week. The pandemic continues, and it’s almost like I’ve forgotten about it for the moment, with all the unrest in our country because of the horrific murder of George Floyd. My message will be a bit shorter than usual today because Elizabeth Eaton, who is the presiding bishop of our Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, has prepared a sermon to share with the whole Church. She had actually recorded a sermon last week to share--before everything started happening. So she recorded a new sermon a few days ago, and it will be posted on our facebook page, and in a link sent by email. I encourage you to watch or listen--it’s about 10 minutes long, and she has an important Word for all of us to hear.
But my own heart has been breaking over all of this stuff, so I’d like to share some of what’s been on my own heart and mind. On this Trinity Sunday we hear the end of Matthew’s Gospel, where Jesus commissions the disciples to “make disciples of all nations, baptize them, and teach them to obey everything [Jesus] commanded them”. And he gives them a promise: “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Now, “obeying everything” Jesus commanded is summarized simply: Love God; and love your neighbor as yourself. Where it gets tricky is in the details. I am often inspired and convicted by what Jesus commands in Matthew 25:31-46. At the end of that passage, Jesus sums up how we can tell whether or not we are following him:
“Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” And he answered them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” (Matthew 25:44-45)
How we treat “the least of these” (meaning, “the marginalized people of society”) is the way we treat Christ himself. That’s why part of my calling as a pastor and a Christian is to listen to the cries of marginalized people, and lift up their experiences that are different from mine, and find some way to make a positive contribution toward justice. When I was baptized, when you were baptized, one of the promises our parents and sponsors made on our behalf--or perhaps you made on your own promises if you were old enough--was “to strive for justice and peace in all the earth.” This is hard work, and I confess I haven’t always done a very good job of it. Even when I try, I know I don’t always get it right, and I know that people may not always be satisfied with what I do or say. But if I want to be a follower of Jesus and what he taught and the way he lived--and if I truly believe that he is with me always--then the words of Jesus quoted from Matthew 25 mean I’ve at least got to try, and learn as I go.
Yes, I’ve had struggles in my life that I’ve had to work hard at overcoming, as I’m sure you have too; but one of the things I haven’t had to worry about while interacting with the world is the color of my skin. Yes, I am thankful for the service and protection I’ve received many times from law enforcement; they have a hard job. And I’m thankful when I see law enforcement officers protecting and serving people--including protesters as they are exercising their constitutional rights of peaceable assembly and petitioning for redress of grievances--and I know that those who are corrupt make everyone else’s job harder.
So I want to lift up one cry of the heart, reported in my local paper (the Racine Journal Times, June 2, 2020) from a peaceful protest march on June 1st, with law enforcement present and blocking traffic for the march. To the prayer that was reported below, I add my "amen".
...Rickeya Neal, a Racine native and special education teacher with Kenosha Unified, pleaded with protesters to avoid violence while still making sure their voices were heard.
"We need to cry out for justice, for fair treatment, for equal rights," she said into a microphone, being met with cheers.
She then led a prayer, saying "We ask you for justice. Lord God, we ask you to begin to touch the hearts of the hardened people because we're tired. We're tired of being mistreated. We're tired of being taken advantage of. We're tired of being treated like our rights don't matter. We're tired of going to work everyday not knowing if we'll come home to our families. God we need you. Some of us are scared. We're afraid. Every day men and women go to work not knowing if they're going to be stopped by police just for being black," she continued. "Bring justice to everyone Lord God. We need these corrupt officers taken care of. Justice needs to be served. It's not fair. We all have families we want to go home to at night...Teach law enforcement how to love. Teach them how to correctly do their jobs."
And to her prayer, I add my own petitions: Lord God, teach me how to love. Teach me how to correctly do my job as a Christian who strives for justice and peace in all the earth. Teach me to see the beauty in every person, and especially the beauty in my neighbors, friends, and fellow Americans who are black or brown or people of color--because you have created each person in your own image, O God, and you have looked upon everything and everyone you’ve created, and by your Word made them “very good”.
Lord God, I want the killing of black people to stop. I want racism and white supremacy to end. Teach me, O Lord, that even if the deep disparities of our society are not my fault personally, they are still my responsibility, because just as I do to my brothers and sisters who are marginalized, so I do to Christ himself; who willingly died on the cross to forgive my sins, and who rose again for my salvation, and who sent his Spirit to renew my heart--but not only me. For if it were only me, that would be a lonely salvation, indeed. Not only for me, but for each person of every color you have made in your image, and especially for those who are suffering in pain and hurt and trauma from racial inequality. Amen.