A mighty clamor

 

Luke 24: 36b-48
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
April 18, 2021

The beauty of biblical interpretation is that it can be updated to speak to the times we live in. The resurrection appearances of Jesus were intended to convince that he was indeed raised from the dead. Jesus was not a hallucination or a dream or a vision; he was flesh and blood with scars and an appetite, and he still had more to say and to teach his disciples because he cared for them and loved them.



Just as Jesus had more to say, I think these resurrection stories have more to say to us. Words and images take on different meanings through the centuries. As one ancestor in the faith reminded us 400 years ago, there is yet more light and truth to break forth from God’s holy word. Based on that wisdom, in the United Church of Christ we say that God is still speaking. And if ever we needed a resurrection word spoken to us, it is in these days of gun violence, White supremacy, a global pandemic, and uncertainty.

Peace Partner by Lori Hetteen

Poet and artist Lori Hetteen wrote, “’You keep pairing me with quiet’, Peace said, ‘but my true companion is the mighty clamor of chains being ripped clean from the wall.’” So when I hear this resurrected Jesus say “Peace be with you”, what I hear is “no justice, no peace”. I want to hear, I want to witness the mighty clamor of chains being ripped clean from the wall.



Why? Because Jesus is every person of color executed by the state raised from the dead. Jesus is George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and Tamir Rice and Trayvon Martin and Duante Wright and Adam Toledo and a list that keeps growing at an alarming rate, raised from the dead. Jesus is every Indigenous woman and child gone missing, raised from the dead. Jesus is every trans and queer person murdered, raised from the dead. Jesus is every Asian American, every Pacific Islander who has been harassed, assaulted, or killed because of who they are, raised from the dead. Jesus is every immigrant who died in the desert, in a detention center, raised from the dead. Jesus is the more than half a million people in this nation, more than 3 million worldwide who have died from this wretched virus, raised from the dead.

It is all too right for this Jesus to startle us and terrify us. When was the last time we were shocked when we heard about yet another mass shooting, another person of color killed by the police? This Jesus should haunt us like a ghost. And yet this Jesus is hungry. This Jesus has flesh and bones. This Jesus has wounds in his side and on his hands and feet. And though we would feel joy to know this Jesus is alive again, every day this Jesus is crucified, is gunned down with his hands up, is executed by the state once again.



This is how the Christ is anointed today, by violence and brutality, by poverty and White supremacy, by callousness and by silence, by inaction. Jesus’ humanity is anointed by our inhumanity.



Each day this continues we wonder, we cry aloud, we pray how much longer? How long, O Lord? When will this suffering end? When will racism and patriarchy and Whiteness end? When will hatred and the lust for power end? The age-old hope of the Church has been when Christ returns.

The truth is Christ is already here. She is flipping tables of power and building new ones. They are leaving water in the desert. He is tearing down walls. She is working to end corruption and oppression. They are marching, being pepper-sprayed and tear-gassed, shouting until they are hoarse that Black lives matter. He is declaring the value and worth of every queer person. She is the very earth crying out for environmental justice. They are pleading for us to put down our weapons and demilitarize our society. He is making it possible for trans people to safely exist in public space. She is speaking an uncomfortable word about self-interest, privilege, and the hoarding of wealth. They are calling us out that the system was broken from the beginning and it is time to get rid of it.



“You keep pairing me with quiet”, Peace said, “but my true companion is the mighty clamor of chains being ripped clean from the wall.” There is no peace until there is justice; there is no justice without repentance. Christ is raised from the dead when we do the work of resurrection, when we demand structural change and not just reform, reform which doesn’t stand a ghost of a chance of changing anything. We can study and examine our implicit bias and recognize our racism, but until we relinquish the power that comes with what the privileged define as safety and security, nothing will change. Our safety and security come at the price of someone else’s life. The chains that keep that system in place need to be ripped clean from the wall. What good is resurrection if we are not transformed, if we are comfortable in the clasp of our own chains of wealth and privilege?

This is no time to be quiet. Justice is on the move. Things change when we change. Donate money to a bail fund or to families of people who have been killed by police. Contribute to the Delaware State University needs-based scholarship that has been named in memory of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. Demand statehood for Washington, D.C. whose majority population is Black. Remember each day that the land that most of us live and work on is stolen land of which the Lenni Lenape had stewardship. Listen with an open mind, an open heart. Have the difficult conversations, beginning with ourselves.



I want to close with these words from the benediction because I think they need to be heard more than once.



Benediction – enfleshed.com

When everything good begins to feel out of reach,
when collective change seems impossible,
or hope is simply hard to find,
Christ whispers “peace, peace” among us.
Not to dull our need to feel sorrow,
or to quell necessary conflict,
but to remind us again of what’s so easily forgotten:
Evil has not overtaken us.
Love is still alive.
God is potential, always with us.
With this peace that sustains,
go with confidence.