When yes means no

Deuteronomy 30: 15-20
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
February 16, 2020








This past week on Christian Twitter (yes there is such a thing), there was a sizable debate about whether or not to offer ashes outside of an Ash Wednesday service. Many of those arguing in favor of a church service and against something like Ashes to Go are younger clergy who are Episcopal and Lutheran. Which is interesting because the Ashes to Go movement began with three Episcopal churches in the Chicago area.



And I thought, “What a thing to be arguing about!” (But then again this is Twitter we’re talking about.) It got me thinking about what Christianity can actually claim as original to itself. Ashes come from the ancient Jewish practice of wearing sackcloth and covering one’s body with ashes as a visible mark of one’s grieving, remorse, and repentance, and it was often combined with fasting. Much of our Christmas and Easter celebrations come from pagan holidays and practices. Even death and resurrection are not particular to Christianity. The goddess Inanna, who was worshiped in Sumer as early as 4000 BCE, in an attempt to conquer the underworld, descends into the underworld, is judged guilty of hubris and struck dead, and then she is raised after three days.



And yet the story at the center of Christian faith says that while it was still dark, at the empty tomb of Jesus, in all four gospels Mary Magdalene declared in one way or another, “I have seen the Lord!” What looked like the end was only the beginning. In the face of death, Mary declared life. In the face of apparent failure, Mary declared victory. In the face of evil, Mary declared that love won.




Psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl called that “tragic optimism”. It is choosing to say “yes” to life in the face of pain, remorse, and death. Not only that but the ability to find meaning and purposeful living from our suffering. Frankl wrote that at its best this optimism allows for “turning suffering into human achievement and accomplishment; deriving from guilt the opportunity to change oneself for the better; and deriving from life’s [impermanence] an incentive to take responsible action.”




It is this same choice that is before God’s people: to choose that which leads to life over that which leads to death. They have already survived famine, enslavement in Egypt, the long journey of escape through the desert, and perhaps most importantly, their own insecurities and weaknesses, their stubbornness and rebellion. Now they are about to enter a new land of freedom. Moses gives what is maybe the longest sermon ever because these are the last words he will speak to his people. Unlike Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, this one is preached on a level place, the plains of Moab. Moses will see this new land only from a distance. After he finishes speaking, he climbs a mountain and dies within sight of God’s promise.




Moses knows his people. He knows that there will be pain, remorse, and death in their future, because that is part of the human condition. But so are joy, love, compassion, and the deep desire for wholeness, shalom. In truth he is reminding his people that they were made for this, for this journey into the unknown, for this choice between life and death, between tragic optimism and giving up. Though they are vulnerable and imperfect and sometimes contentious, they have it within them to say “yes” to God’s way of blessing and holiness. The holy trinity in the Torah is the orphan, the widow, and the stranger, for God’s people had been strangers in a strange land and so are commanded to care for the most vulnerable just as God had provided for them. To turn away from God and God’s ways of mercy and justice is to turn away from the dispossessed and the outsider. To turn away from God is to turn away from themselves, from their own saving. To say “yes” to God and God’s ways of compassion and justice means saying “no” to death and all that leads to it.




In 1938 Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer preached a confirmation sermon to young Christians and their parents, to a congregation living in the midst of Nazi Germany. He said, “You have only one master now...But with this 'yes' to God belongs just as clear a 'no.' Your 'yes' to God requires your 'no' to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies, to all oppression and violation of the weak and poor, to all ungodliness, and to all mockery of what is holy. Your 'yes' to God requires a 'no' to everything that tries to interfere with your serving God alone, even if that is your job, your possessions, your home, or your honor in the world. Belief means decision.”



But this yes, this yes that also means no, this decision is not just a one and done. Every day, for some even every moment, we are faced with this choice, and some days it is harder than others.



When we are faced with someone who needs help,








When we are faced with the next moment of sobriety,



When we are faced with our rising anger, our heavy despair, our raging fear, our lonely doubts, our own impermanence and that of those we love,



When we are faced with racism, the power of patriarchy, misogyny, fear of the other, our complicity in a system that denies basic fairness and access and decency,



When we are faced with the choice between tragic optimism and giving up,



And we wonder if we will see that new land of freedom.



Hands Across the Divide, Derry (Londonderry), Northern Ireland



And so we need to remember that our yes to empathy is a no to apathy.



Our yes to hope is a no to despair.



Our yes to the truth is a no to lies.



Our yes to love is a no to indifference.



Our yes to kindness is a no to hate.








Our yes to peace is a no to fear.



Our yes to enough for everyone is a no to keeping everything we have.



Our yes to social justice is a no to ego and self-interest.



Our yes to self-love and self-care is a no to rolling over and giving in.



Our yes to community is a no to isolation.








Our yes means generosity, wholeheartedness, gratitude, and wonder. Our yes means healing, restoration, and wholeness. But our yes also means inconvenience, disruption, and sacrifice. Our yes means places we’d rather not go, things we’d rather not do, people we’d rather not be with.



Ironically, to choose life, to choose love means to choose the cross.



It’s a long way to November, and we can’t see past it yet. Even so, no matter the outcome, each day, by how we live, by what we give, by the choices we make, let us declare, let us claim life, let us claim victory, let us claim that love has already won.



Amen.



Benediction – enfleshed.com



Choose love.

Love your friends.
Love your people.
Love collectively.
Love justice.
Love truth.
Love your body.
Love the soil and the air and the water.
Love wisdom.
Love the creatures - the cute but also the scaly and the slimy and the grotesque.
Love by working for change.
Love by respecting boundaries.
Love by growing.
Love by fighting for each other.
Love through solidarity.
Love through redistribution.
Love by listening.
Love by paying attention.
Love by holding accountable and inviting accountability.
Love strangers.
Love by encouraging.
Love queerly.
Love generously.

Amen.

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