Pentecost 13
September 11, 2011
The Very Rev. Anthony R. Pompa
Such a time we have been having these past few months. Do you realize that we have lived through an earthquake, that we have experienced a hurricane, and now a tropical storm has left some of our brothers and sisters, particularly here in Pennsylvania and in our Diocese to the north, sitting in flood waters. It has really been quite some time these last few weeks and months. It has led Mariclair to declare in the office that when she sees frogs start dropping from the sky that she is out of here. And, I am going to follow. I have to admit this is a strange time. And yet I know today, as we gather, that what is most on your mind today is, of course, the happenings of September 11, 2001. This, strange as it sounds, the tenth anniversary of those events.
Anniversaries are times to remember. They are a time to reflect, And I believe they are our opportunity to decide. Because the human experience is a complex one, anniversaries can be quite interesting. There are, of course, those happier anniversaries. Those birthdays still with plenty of complex things to reflect on, wedding anniversaries. Perhaps the anniversary of our graduation from high school or college or graduate school, or whatever trade program we may be proud of having attended and remembering what we achieved there. Perhaps an anniversary of our ordination for some of us. These tend to be the happier times or the more poignant remembering or the more joyful or uplifting occasions to remember. We also know , however, that anniversaries can also bring difficult and challenging things. The anniversary of a death of a loved one for example. The anniversary of an end of a war that, an event that makes us reflect, remember the difficulty and the tragedy and the horror of such a happening. The anniversary perhaps of a suicide of a loved one. The anniversary perhaps of our divorce. These types of anniversaries bring much more complexity to our remembering. I submit to you today that anniversaries are a time to remember, a time to reflect and I believe a time to decide.
This is the very day, the tenth anniversary of 9 11 01. A most tragic day in our history as an American people and in the world. For all of us here, and I think all of us here or most of us here, with the exception of one or two, actually have memory of it. You remember where you were. Like Dr. Joseph Indano, our Forum speaker today invited us to remember, you probably remember who you reached out to that day; Or you remember who called you first. In my case, my brother making sure that I wasn’t on an airplane somewhere that day. Perhaps you’re like me and you remember staring at the television, if that’s where you happened to be, really not believing what was happening. Perhaps you remember the horror that you felt; the anger. the pain, and of course, the sorrow. Without a doubt, this anniversary is a day of remembering a happening that has changed our lives forever. There’s not one of us that would disagree with that statement.
What we remember today or at least what I remember today most importantly is the loss of innocent life. In remembering, the sadness I felt that day that returns in a powerful way. In the remembering however, I also recall the heroism of so many who were the first responders that day and the days and weeks that followed. I also in my remembering reflect on the heroism of those who have survived. The heroism of those who lost loved ones, or were injured, or who are sick now because of just being there, who make decisions daily to continue on with life. Anniversaries are about remembering. They are about reflecting. And, they are about deciding.
Of all that there is on the television this weekend and this week, I’ve only given myself permission, good or ill, to watch the stories of human resiliency. The stories of those who in the darkest of hours and the darkest of days and in the midst of experiencing the greatest loss of their lives, seemed to have made a decision to plot a path forward, rather than giving in and calling life quits. These stories are compelling, courageous, heart wrenching and real and you see, these are the stories about those who have made a decision. The decision of course is to live. Not easily, I do not pretend to believe easily, but in the midst of it all, they have made a decision to live.
Anniversaries are a time to remember. They are time to reflect and they are a time to decide. There are decisions to be made always in life, and those who make decision in the midst of tragedy to bravely fight on is worthy of our remembering and reflecting. I realize that because I am a person of faith, I choose to look through the eyes of faith, and when I do so at the lives of these resilient people, I silmutaneously know it is not easy, And I see grace. I know that even in this place there are those of us who were there, or who lost loved ones close to them. I know none of this is easy, especially today, but I also know without exception that those I speak of here have made a decision, to live. To chart a path forward. This is courage, this is resiliency, this is faith, this is grace
As people of faith, we look today at the Exodus story. We recognize that the Exodus story is the story of the people of God. The people of God, the people of Israel, reading and hearing the story of Exodus were experiencing the reality of having lived in oppression and in slavery and remembering a new day, a new hope, a new life. Remember the big picture story of the people of Israel after being delivered from Egypt. The people land in the dessert where they doubt everything. The truth of the matter is that the people of God from generation to generation will find themselves at various times in despair and in oppression. One can understand the need for a story of freedom and deliverance to be spoken, heard, and believed in. We know today we yearn for such stories. The people of Israel, the people of God yearn for this Exodus story and the own this exodus story because it is a story of hope and freedom in the midst of trouble. Their remembering and reflecting on this story bring them (and us) to a decision point. Will the story of our people be a story defined only by trouble and oppression, OR, will the story of our people be the story of hope and freedom in the face of trouble? The question for them? How will we live? A script of oppression or a script of Freedom!
We look also at the gospel story today and there we find Jesus teaching the ethic of forgiveness. I find myself saying to Jesus as he teaches this ethic, “here you go again Jesus, asking difficult things.” The ethic of forgiveness unfolds in this story as Peter asks the question. “How many times do I forgive? Seven times?” This I am sure seemed generous to Peter given the understood norms of the day in terms of dealing with those who offend. Jesus said, “No, if you’re going to understand the ethic of the heart of the kingdom of God, you’re going to need to discover the ability and the willingness to forgive seventy times seven.” This teaching for those who would hear it would be a mindbender, it is for us I know. Seventy times Seven means just about every chance you get, you need to discover a path to forgiveness. That is to say, even in the midst of what seems unjust, has hurt or offended us gravely, Jesus in the ethic of forgiveness says, seventy times seven, or all the time. Why Jesus? What is so important about being able to forgive?
You see this is Jesus Exodus story for us. Jesus knows that if we cannot come to the place within ourselves to make sense, make peace, to let go of anger, and resentment, even in the face of the most horrific of circumstances, it is we, ourselves, who will be held prisoner. Where does this leave us on an occasion like this where we remember and reflect on a most horrible of circumstance as 9/11. Let me be clear about what I am saying. I understand that the people with hate in their hearts, who got into an airplane and flew it in and killed innocent people are not asking for our forgiveness. What I’m suggesting is, our response to such horror cannot be hate. It cannot even be vengeance. And this is one of the hardest teachings that Jesus puts before us. But it is a teaching of liberation. For if we respond in hate then we ourselves are held in bondage by hate. If we cannot find a path to finding a forgiveness of the event itself somewhere deep inside of us, we are held hostage.
Anniversaries are times to remember, to reflect, and to decide. How should we live? As people in fear? As people held captive by hate? Or shall we seek the much harder road—and decide to live in freedom and in faith?
Today we remember. Especially today we remember those who died. We remember those whose lives were impacted by horrendous loss and challenges because of this loss. We remember those heroic responders, who didn’t run the other way but ran toward danger for the sake of the other. Today we remember rightfully with sorrow in our hearts. And, we reflect. We reflect on the horror and power of hate and prejudice that leads human kind to acts of terror. We reflect on the pain of loss, the anger in response to the ultimate offense, the sadness and the helplessness. Finally we remember and reflect on the resiliency and courage of faithful and good people who in the face of the most profound of challenges seek a path forward. This anniversary we remember, we reflect, and I pray we decide to join the courageous, the faithful, and the peaceful in heart in choosing Life.

Amen.

The Twelfth Sunday of Pentecost

The Ven. Richard I. Cluett

What I get from these two lessons this morning is a reminder that the Passover was a once and done event. It was a unique, seminal, transformative and divine intervention into the affairs of humankind to bring salvation. God is not going to come down again and wipe away the problems that lay behind us, before us, and upon us and set us free.

And Jesus tells us through Matthew’s gospel that there are ways to get through these times, any times, all times, if we are willing to do the relational work with one another that is required to live together in community with any hope at all of living with integrity, grace, peace, power, or, might I say, success.

Here on this Labor Day weekend of 2011, 14 million Americans are counted as unemployed. Add to that an additional 6 million who have been out of work for so long that they are no longer.

Most Americans have gotten up every morning of the past two decades and found themselves running harder and harder just to keep up. The wealthiest 1% have 25% of the income. While families in the middle are stagnating, those at the bottom are losing ground. After adjusting for inflation, low-income families lost more than 10 percent of their income in those 20 years.

For so many people life seems to be coming apart. Do you remember this description from Thoreau? Leading lives of quiet desperation. Is anyone here today blind, fooled by the relative comfort and ease of those lives which look economically secure, but may be emotionally fragile and relationally fractured? Living on the edge used to be a phrase applied to those on the edge of society, on the edge of town, on the side of the road. Now it includes those who live on the edge of bankruptcy, on the edge of emotional stability, on the edge of human isolation.

In our time, dreams, values, structures, systems that held us together in a commonwealth for the common good have disintegrated into a chaotic maelstrom of competing self interest. There's a sense of everything being out of control – spending, emotions, lives, the world. People are worried about their lives, their children, their futures, and the world. There is a confusion of needs and wants, which has created a culture that values making a killing more than making a living.

What happened to our dreams? For so many they have been drowned by the struggle to live day to day, week to week, month to month, paycheck to paycheck in safety and security.

And instead of coming together to solve these problems in good faith, we are driving each other farther and farther apart. Region against region. USA against the world. Labor against management. Political Right against Political Left. Republican against Democrat. Good faith, indeed!

We can’t even have a civil discussion about what night of the week to meet together to discuss the big issues of the day that affect the quality of life for the entire citizenry of our country. How pathetic is that?

These are the issues of our society and world, these are the issues of people's lives, these are the issues before the Church. These are your issues. Your life and mine, the lives of those around us and those far away; life shapes the agenda for the Church.

We, the Church, have something to bring to this unhappy world. We have something to inform the tenor, quality and content of the debate about which direction to go, what to do, how to live. Most of all we bring hope and a way forward.

While we know that the Passover was once and done, while we know that there are no free passes through this life, while we know that the road ahead is difficult, we also know that there is a way and a truth shown to us by Jesus Christ.

“Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

“Where two or three are gathered …” We will only go forward together.

I have learned in my three score and nearly 10 years of life that God has built into human DNA is the primal urge… I know that born into every human being is the Need (with a capital N) to be in relationship with another – to be with others. I have also learned that life can beat that urge down.

But People know this, it does not ever die, because by God we are made for one another. We are created for community. The nature of God’s self is community: Father , Son, and Holy Spirit. Our salvation as a person, our salvation as a people is dependent upon our common well-being – even when it is hard.

We are fast approaching the 10^th anniversary of 9/11. One of the enduring images for me, one of the iconic images for me, comes from the film and photos of the all those police officers and firefighters and others, too, running toward the twin towers at the same time people were running away from the towers in fear for their lives.

Now where does that come from? What moved those people to do that? One could say, “Their duty to protect…” But where does that idea of Duty come from? I think they ran toward the towers because they knew in their very being, they knew in their heart of hearts what was most important – those people, saving those other people – no matter who they were, what they believed, or how they looked. The well being of those people was a priority, and so those men and women ran into the towers. The need, the urge to “go toward” was born in them and nurtured in them by family and others along the way. As it is in us.

Many of you know that for the past three years I have been working with some dioceses around the church to assist them in rebuilding after bishops and other leaders and members left the Episcopal Church. When people left, they left behind members who stayed who were hurt and angry at how the leaving was accomplished.

Today, as some of the ones who left are returning, those who remained in the Episcopal Church are coming face to face with the gospel imperative of forgiveness and reconciliation.  How do they receive these people back into the church and into their lives? Some are still hurt and angry and are struggling mightily to align how they feel with what they know they need to do.

How do we live together as if Jesus really is among us as he says in the gospel? What do we do? How do we treat one another? How do we order our lives? What decisions do we make? What takes priority? How do we live in this new world?

 Those are good questions for our prayer work in the week ahead. And the answers we come up with will have consequences, not just for today and tomorrow, but for eternity. Once we decide, we will need the help of one another to go on. The Good News is that Jesus will be among us.