Proper 28C
Isaiah 65:17-25Canticle 9
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19
Blessed Lord, who
caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so
to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may
embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which
you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with
you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
When
I get caught up in fear about the future, my first impulse is to throw my hands in the air. “I don’t know how to fix
this!” I wail to God. I feel as if God is expecting me to do something, but I
don’t have the answers. I don’t even know how to comfort the disappointed woman
at the food pantry when the meat runs out. I don’t know how to respond to the
young adult who is afraid to have children in a world of impending climate
catastrophe. I don’t know what to say to the teenagers who are afraid of being
shot at school. Like Moses, I protest, “God, please send someone else into the
world’s pain. Someone less slow of tongue. Someone who can make people listen.”
We
know from today’s Gospel lesson that Jesus won’t let us Christians off the hook
any more than God let Moses beg off of confronting Pharaoh. Jesus tells us
reluctant witnesses: “You don’t need to have the words yourselves. I will give
you words and wisdom. Don’t worry about figuring everything out
before you take action. What you need is to endure, to remain steadfast,
to abide with me under all circumstances.”
Trusting
God to guide me sounds good in hymns and sermons, but it’s not always so easy
to do in real life. What has helped me is the reminder that, like anything
else, abiding in God is something that needs daily practice—and the help of my
Christian community. To better understand what I’m talking about, let’s take a
look at two very different accounts of endurance and bravery.
Come with me first to a wilderness
area in Iowa called Little Sioux Scout Ranch. It’s the summer of 2008. Over 100
young Boy Scouts and their leaders are involved in a training event in this isolated
spot, camping and practicing their skills. Those of you who have been Scouts know
the kind of training involved, right? By practicing certain specific skills,
you can earn badges of accomplishment in things like camping, personal management,
first aid, and citizenship in the nation and the world.
During the Scout event in Little
Sioux, around suppertime—out of nowhere---the weather becomes ominous. A
cluster of strong tornadoes is sweeping through a multi-state area. The terrible
winds come on so fast that the Scouts only have five minutes’ warning before
they hit. Suddenly, all becomes chaos, danger, and death. Cabins fly into the air,
and Scouts are injured and even killed. Amazingly, these young middle schoolers
don’t dissolve into useless panic. Instead, they automatically swing into
action, putting in place the skills that they have practiced day after day. Long
before any rescue crews can reach the teens, they set up triage stations for
the wounded. They apply first aid in an organized and life-saving way. Their
quick action saves many lives. A government official later proclaimed, "the
reaction of the Boy Scouts was in the best tradition of what they're being
taught.”[1]
These Scouts weren’t any braver than any
other teens. They had, however, been diligently and faithfully practicing small,
specific skills day after day. When the time came for them to use them, they
didn’t need to ponder or second-guess themselves. They were free to respond
automatically. They knew in their bones what to do.
Remember
those Scouts now as we travel to a poor, desolate area of France, high on a
windswept plateau. The inhabitants of a village here called Le Chambon-sur-Lignon
have for generations struggled through lives of hardship and wearying
isolation. These subsistence farmers, however, have become the subject of books
and movies about their amazing bravery and Christian witness.
It
all began long ago, as the mostly protestant families of Le Chambon gather around
a neighbor’s hearth in the evenings to tell stories together: Stories about the
heroes of the Bible, as well as the heroes of the Protestant Reformation. They
tell and retell stories of faith and resistance in the midst of violent
persecution, stories of steadfastness in the face of intolerance. Right before the
Second World War, they are joined by a young, idealistic pastor. Pastor Trocme
has fallen into disfavor with the church authorities because of his pacifist
beliefs. As a punishment, he has been assigned to poor, dingy Le Chambon. Trocme
joins his new flock in their nightly meetings, spending hour after hour
examining the words of Jesus with them. Slowly,
imperceptibly even, Jesus’ words become part of the hearts and minds of these
ordinary villagers.
One
day, strangers start to straggle into the village, knocking on farmhouse doors
and asking for food, shelter, and refuge from persecution. They are Jews,
hounded by their own government, fleeing transport to German concentration
camps. The villagers of Le Chambon open their doors and take the strangers in.
Working together, as a close community, they hide them, hundreds of them, in their
homes. They share their meager food with them. They provide them with false
identity papers. They secretly fill their local school with their children ….
For years, they do all of this without hesitation. They disobey the laws of
their own Vichy government. They face possible imprisonment and even death for
strangers very different from themselves.
When
interviewed after the war by journalists eager to praise their heroism, the
villagers of Le Chambon have little to say. They can’t explain their actions.
In a documentary, some of them say things like, “We did it ‘just because.’”
“It
was the normal thing to do.”
“We
didn’t have any theory. We just did what had to be done.”
“People
came to our doors and asked for help. How could we not open them?”[2]
The
people of Le Chambon, during those long nights around the fire, had huddled
together sharing the transforming words of Jesus. Without realizing it, they
had learned how to respond in a crisis. When history knocked on their doors and
called on them to act, they were ready. Together, they were able to face the
trials and tribulations that awaited them.
In
today’s Collect, we are reminded to do the same:
“Blessed
Lord,” we pray, “who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning:
Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we
may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you
have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” What we digest becomes a part of us. It strengthens us; it
nourishes us. What better food for courage could we be given, than the story of
a God who created us for love, who redeemed us for love, and who loves us
still? What better image within which to abide than the vision of this world
becoming a place where everyone has enough, where suffering is no more, where peace
reigns like the lion who rests next to the lamb?
Like
the people of Le Chambon, our parish is invited to gather together in a dark,
stormy world, to share the burdens of our worries and fears, and to listen to the
story that we share. To teach it to our children. To pass it lovingly from hand
to hand, like we pass the chalice and paten. As a Church, we are also invited to
come together regularly to learn and to practice with one another the practical,
down-to-earth love of neighbor, just like those Boy Scouts did with their first
aid drills. With the words of Jesus embedded in our minds, hearts, and hands,
we too will be a community ready to confront whatever forces of destruction descend
upon us in our time. We cannot save the world, but we can remain steadfast in
our testimony. We can do our small part to testify in word and deed to the saving
truth that our Christian story shows us over and over again: Love always wins.
[1]
Found in “Little Sioux Scout Ranch,” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Sioux_Scout_Ranch,
accessed 11/16/2019.
[2]
Notes taken from a viewing of the documentary by Pierre Sauvage, “Weapons of
the Spirit,” viewed in 2006.
