24 Jul SUNDAY, JULY 24, 2022
The disciples do not wish to pray silently. The neighbor will not leave without bread. Making needs, desires and wishes known is imperative to meeting them. During the Poor People’s Campaign in Washington, D. C. I held up five different glossy cardboard signs. At the bottom of each lies the refrain, “We won’t be silent anymore.” “We won’t be silent anymore,” is also the refrain of today’s scripture readings.
Had there been only silence, and no outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah, grave sins would have gone unchecked. When people are seen and voices are heard, it’s often the only way anyone comes to know something for sure. One who testifies asks questions or delivers answers directly. Abraham dared to speak, not once or twice, but until he was satisfied.
Abraham believed that a righteous Lord would not deal equally with the wicked and the innocent, that justice should consider and serve every person who resides in a place. Though some rightly deserve condemnation, even they will be spared for the overall sake of justice. The Lord who listens demonstrates patience, shows mercy and has compassion.
The Lord will not tolerate sin, but investigate and address it wherever found. Evil and injustice will not go unpunished. The story of Abraham addressing God affirms the effect of intercessory prayer, something we practice every Sunday. The innocent will be spared. Their needs will be met whether we cooperate or not. Forgiveness is extended beyond individuals and applied to entire locations.
The Bible has a terrible habit of labeling. Folks are often put into categories like righteous or wicked. What I like about Abraham is that he makes no claim of worthiness to be heard. He doesn’t try to identify himself with one side or another. He’s merely a humble advocate who takes responsibility for others upon himself. He publicly supports a cause and isn’t afraid to recommend what seems just. In that way, Abraham has much in common with The Poor People’s Campaign.
Abraham Receiving the Angels
He didn’t follow the men who went toward Sodom, he remained standing before the Lord. He draws nearer by speaking thoughts from his heart and mind. Just as he declared, “Far be it,” I say, “Far be it for anyone to have more concern for themselves than for others.”
The message of the readings is clear. Abraham and the neighbor are not asking for themselves. They are asking for the sake of those tangentially related, through blood, by their proximity, by association. What they have in common is making an effort to connect with rather than distance themselves from those in need. Those in need are either suffering or about to.
I’m not picking and choosing scripture to fit my sermons. Themes of forgiveness, mercy, advocacy and compassion show up in the Old Testament, Psalms, New Testament gospels and other sacred books. As many have noted, “The Bible isn’t a book; it’s a library.” Within its covers are carefully curated works of art that portray God’s nature in sync with and in contrast to human nature. Today, Abraham and the gospel reveal the Lord’s nature through human behavior.
Abraham and the neighbor consider the real possibility of their words and actions making someone angry, of their words and actions pushing the limits of a relationship, of possibly damaging or destroying it. Those are risks that anyone who speaks up or advocates must take. Risk is imperative to making progress or accomplishing what’s necessary. It’s scary to speak the thoughts of our hearts and minds, to disturb others who are comfortably asleep. But what happens if we remain silent?
The neighbor was disturbed and gave no less than four reasons why. His doors were already locked, children were in bed with him, he could not get up or offer anything. To disturb is to interfere with a usual arrangement or normal functioning, to interrupt sleep, relaxation or privacy.
The initial disturbance was not when one friend knocked on the door of another and asked for three loaves of bread. It was the knock before that when the first friend showed up without warning. These friends represent trouble, for trouble does not deliver advanced notice, either. It merely announces itself upon arrival. Trouble takes advantage of proximity, familiarity, and shared commonalities.
But, the third friend has something the other two don’t. The luxury of preparation. The privilege of putting extra bread aside, of having reserves on hand should need arise that exceeds the norm. Which friend are you? The first one: traveling without provisions, hoping to benefit from kindness? Or are you the second? The one other people go to, who has managed to find your way and settle down. Who at least has a roof over your head, if not food to spare.
Or are you in the position of the third friend? One who seemingly has it all: home, family, comfort, security, and stored resources at hand. In this scenario, and for the sake of the poor, friendship is not a factor. Friendship does not produce results. Persistently speaking up and asking aloud does. Like Abraham, friend #2 is asking not for himself, but advocating. There are lives at stake. Some folks have already been on a journey. Now, they too, are in need of rest, security, comfort and replenishment.
They are given what they need so that they can head out again, not remain and move in permanently. They are given what they need so they can chart the rest of their journey, find others to depend upon and hopefully establish reciprocal relationships. The Poor People’s Campaign does not ask for handouts, they ask for a living wage. Thirty-nine million workers earn less than $15/hr. Work in exchange for daily bread.
Silence, on the other hand, contributes to people’s suffering. Suffering in the form of punishment, poverty, no place to rest, nol security or comfort, denied the experience of being acknowledged and recognized. Billionaire wealth during the pandemic increased over $2 trillion dollars as the majority struggled to maintain a home, family relationships, income, comfort and security. The majority did not increase the store of their resources at hand or benefit from the misfortune of society at large.
The Importunate Neighbor
Another phrase from the Poor People’s Campaign is, “Lift from the bottom. Everybody rises.” The gospel text seems to bank on people with the most giving to those below. It makes the case that if some will contribute, others will pass it on. But such hope can only exist when persistent intercessors demand what is due.
Lifting from the bottom is not the same as handing over bread, but it’s a start. The best illustration of how lifting turns into friendship is the story of the man stranded at sea when his kayak got damaged. In the dark for hours, he divested himself of belongings and made peace about dying. Surrounded by bait fish and bull sharks, around 4 in the morning, he saw the bow of a boat. Lifting his hands above water, he shouted, “Mayday. Mayday.”
After being tossed a life ring, he was rescued by being lifted from below. He was lifted onto a swimming platform before climbing aboard a boat that would take him ashore. Once there, he required treatment to counter the effects of previously doing without hydration, warmth, and comfort.
A friendship began between the two gentlemen, when one showed up and the other cried out. It was forged when one threw out a life ring, helped pull the other to safety, made a platform available and opened an entranceway to safe space. Rolling down my window and offering small gifts is one sample of that.
There’s a young scraggly fellow who can be seen wearing the same clothes for days on end. His favorite outfit of choice recently has been a pair of elastic or drawstring waisted pull-on pajama pants that say Gatorade all over them. He always looks frazzled and antsy. He doesn’t smile and wave like many do. He simply holds a sign and walks toward intersections and street corners.
This week he stood off Cameron St. near the intersection of 81. It’s a dangerous spot (Steve and I were a wreck when we rode bikes along the Greenbelt and tried to get from one side of the highway to another during one light change). It so happened that I was looking straight ahead as I pulled up at the light turning red, before a school bus pulled up right behind me. “I haven’t much chance this time,” the young man’s expression revealed.
He hadn’t even tried to make eye contact. That’s just his way. As I rolled down the window, and waved a few folded up bills, he approached somewhat quickly. He made eye contact, said, “Thanks,” and “Have a good day.” Looking him in the face was completely different than seeing him from afar. His willingness to pause and sincerely connect caught me off guard.
Knowing I wasn’t keeping him from other prospects, I engaged him further. Replying with more sincerity than usual I said, “I hope you have a good day, too.” He smiled. We were both covered in warmth. Perhaps he does use drugs and could be dangerous, but for a moment, he was like the adrift kayaker who had gained entrance into a private, safe space and had his persistence rewarded.
Silence contributes to other people’s suffering, yours and theirs. Suffering in the form of isolation, punishment and poverty. Suffering from being adrift without rest, without a chance to feel secure or find comfort, denied the experience of being acknowledged and recognized. Not because a person is our friend, but because of their persistence, will you give them what they ask for? Will you work toward guaranteeing that workers earn a living wage? Will you help to lift from the bottom so everyone rises?
Last year near the river walk, a young woman capsized her inflatable kayak on the Susquehanna during a summer concert. I noticed that she couldn’t reestablish herself or gain footing once overturned. Because I didn’t see others on the water offering help or moving toward her, I walked up the hill to notify EMS.
Finally, a concerted effort emerged as she was being carried away downriver. Numerous kayakers headed her way making their way toward the concrete steps, anchoring themselves together enmasse. It took strangers stepping up and caring for one another. It took acknowledging that what was happening was not okay and perilous.
Will you join the effort to make sure folks are safe and secure? Will you acknowledge the danger of momentum carrying folks downriver and perilously over a dam’s edge? Will you help them find footing on ground that will not move or pull them under? The answer is not always money. Sometimes it’s volunteering or teaching a skill. Sometimes it’s encouragement that comes in the way of applauding someone’s efforts or helping them debrief from life experience. Sometimes it’s enlisting emergency personnel when a person obviously struggles to no avail. Don’t be silent. Advocate.
Paul offers words of encouragement for the poor and those in trouble. Don’t let anyone disqualify you or insist upon self-abasement. Some people are puffed up without cause by their human way of thinking. Hold fast. Be nourished and held together by God.
Let us pray. Lord, through stories old and new, you show you care. That you are willing to forgive the guilty and protect the innocent. That you offer many a reprieve from punishment and show mercy when no one else will. Give opportunities to reward persistence. Help us advocate for ourselves and others. May persistence give everyone what they need. In your holy name we speak, act and pray. Amen.