I Am Responsible (Mistaken Identities, Week 4)

Micah 6:1-8

Matthew 5:1-12

Mark Twain published The Prince and the Pauper in 1881.  But the story is set in London in 1547.  It involves two boys who look identically alike.  One of them, Tom Canty, is poor.  He lives just outside of London with an abusive father.  The other boy is Prince Edward, son of King Henry VIII.  

One day Tom is loitering near the palace gates, and the guards catch him and prepare to give him a beating when Prince Edward stops them.  He invites Tom into his palace chambers and the two boys notice that they look alike.  They decide to trade clothes just for a bit.  So Edward dresses in Tom’s common rags and walks outside, where the guards mistake him for Tom and drive him away.  Now Prince Edward – dressed as Tom – has to live among the poor and for the first time sees their struggles.  And Tom – dressed as Prince Edward – has to pretend to be a real Prince.

Monty Python’s Life of Bryan is a British satire from 1979.  It’s a story about a Jewish guy named Brian who is born on the very same day, and right next door to, Jesus Christ, and who is then repeatedly mistaken for the Messiah.  The initial mix up occurs when the three wise men intending to bring their gifts to the baby Jesus stop one stall short and present their gifts instead to Brian.  Later in life, Brian repeats offhand a few things he heard Jesus say, and attracts a small but intense group of followers.  Brian keeps trying to get away, but the harder he tries, the bigger his following becomes. 

We’ve been talking about mistaken identities – getting our lives mixed up with someone we’re not.  And our readings today call us to lives of responsibility before God.  The words of Micah and Jesus remind us that talk is cheap.  Outward religious observance is cheap.  What God wants from us is a life of justice, mercy, and humility.  That, and only that, is real religion that pleases God. 

So we distort who we are as God’s beloved children if we see ourselves as religious insiders with special privileges.  We distort who we are if we seek the easy and popular path that avoids conflict.  No, the good news is that we are responsible for leading lives of justice, mercy, and humility.  And we are responsible for living that way, says Jesus, even if it causes us problems or persecution.

The easy thing to do this morning is to criticize the new administration of falling far short of these values of justice, mercy, and humility.   The Trump administration issued an Executive Order on Friday that bars immigration from seven Muslim countries and all refugees from entering the US, including those from Syria.  The Administration is trying to justify this course of action with an appeal to national security and to our understandable fears of terrorism. 

But this is a ruse, a manipulative ploy.  Don’t fall for it.  It is of a piece with the Administration’s attempt to discredit all media and journalism, in the hopes that we will listen only to the Administration and their favored news outlets.  Of course the US has the right to secure its borders and protect its citizens from terrorism.  But we already have a refugee-vetting program in place.  And none of the terrorist attacks in the US since 9/11 were carried out by Muslims from the seven countries identified in the Order.

What these appeals to fear are meant to hide from us is that the Order functions to privilege white Christians above all others.  In spite of the fact that much of our terrorism is domestic, carried out by right-wing white Christians, this Order bans only Muslims.  And President Trump has clarified that the Order’s language about making exceptions for “religious minorities” from Muslim countries is meant to privilege Christian refugees over Muslim refugees. 

Here is what Scripture teaches about how we are to treat refugees:

“God defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigners residing among you, giving them food and clothing.  And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt”  (Deut. 10:18-19).

The gospels tell Jesus’ story by identifying him as a refugee, fleeing from a violent political situation.  “An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream.  ‘Get up,’ he said.  ‘Take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt.  Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him’.”  (Matthew 2:13).

Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats ends with this statement to the goats who are rejected, “I was a stranger and you did not invite me in” (Matthew 25:37-40, 43).

This particular policy, this Executive Order, doesn’t express God’s heart towards refugees.  And so I ask you to courageously oppose it, because of your faith in the refugee Jesus Christ.  The most Christian thing you can do right now is to confess your solidarity with our Muslim brothers and sisters. 

Now pointing fingers at others for their failures is the easy part.  But we can’t stop there.  The harder thing to do is to look at our own lives so that we can ask how we can grow in areas of justice, mercy, and humility. 

Our reading from Micah imagines a courtroom scene.  God is the plaintiff with a case against Israel.   And the mountains and hills are called as witnesses.  God is the one who liberated Israel from captivity in Egypt, loved and cared for them.  And God expects them to respond by caring for others.  But they’ve grown greedy, selfish, and indifferent to others’ needs. 

In their defense, they claim that they’ve been faithful church-goers.  And they are even willing to double down on their religious observances if that’s what God wants from them. 

No, says God.  That’s not what I want.  What I want is for you to do justice: I want you to pay attention to the needs of people who struggle.  What I want is for you to love mercy: I want you to extend care to those in pain and share what you have.  I want you to walk humbly: don’t see your religious life as something to brag about, something that separates you as chosen ones or favorites.  I want your religious life to deepen your connections and widen your sympathies with all people everywhere, whether they’re from your tribe or not.

In the Beatitudes or “blessings” that begin Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, Jesus begins by making promises to all those who arrange their lives in the light of God’s new kingdom.  Jesus’ blessings fall on those who pursue justice, kindness, and humility without much support or encouragement.  The calling is uphill, and the struggle is real.  But those on Jesus’ side are promised to be welcomed into the fullness of God’s coming reign.

The beatitudes aren’t commands.  They are promises to people who are currently hurting or longing for justice that they will receive the kingdom.  God’s new realm is coming in fullness, and Jesus pronounces a blessing that encourages those struggling for goodness that their struggle will be worth it.

Jesus blesses those who “mourn” over the way the machine of the world harms people.  He blesses those whose hunger for justice leads them to rearrange their lives so that they have more to share with those in need.  He blesses those who are persecuted and reviled by a mean-spirited, success-obsessed and power-obsessed world.  Please hear this today.  Following Jesus will not make you wealthy or successful or well-liked.  It will bring you hardship and conflict.

You know this.  And you keep following Jesus Christ because you take heart from his promises that God’s kingdom of love and justice will one day become the fullest reality there is.  And so in the meantime, let us continue to share our lives as best we can with those who may struggle in ways hard for us to imagine.

I had parents who loved and supported me.  They built me up.  They affirmed my gifts.  They never belittled me verbally.  They never abused me sexually or physically.  I was safe to learn and grow and explore the world.  Here’s the point.  I did nothing to deserve that upbringing.  So how can I shape my life responsibly before God to encourage, help, and support people who didn’t have parents like mine?

There are young people in our community in poisonous families, dangerous families.  There are young people who experience verbal, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.  There are young people whose parents belittled them and told them they’ll never amount to anything.  There are young people whose parents model nothing but drug addiction and excuse making.  There are young people whose parents are absent, either literally or emotionally.  And those young people grow into adults.  And some of us are in here today.

So rather than pat myself on the back for hitting a triple, how can I acknowledge that I was born on third base?  How can I be present to those who face struggles I haven’t, to live in solidarity with them, as a friend and an ally?  I see you all doing this in all kinds of ways, living out your responsibility to be God’s people.

Stephanie reminds me that there are families without cars.  Some parents walk their children to school because they cannot afford a car.  There are many children who come to school hungry every morning.  They come especially hungry on Mondays after a weekend without much food.  My kids and your kids have enough to eat.  How are kids supposed to learn if they’re hungry?  I hope you remember those enormous piles of food that we delivered to the Beacon.  That’s not enough, but it’s a start.  And our missions giving goes in large part to groups addressing hunger issues, and to others helping those in poverty.  But we can do more.

There are people in our community with little to no health care.  What can we do?  There are people struggling with issues of mental health?  What can we do?  There are people of color who are fearful of how others might treat them.  There are people whose sexual orientation is different and they worry how they’ll be received in a small community.  What can we do?

This week I got to spend time with our older friends in nursing homes and Presbyterian Village.  They are wonderful people.  They do the best they can to keep their spirits up even though they regret the loss of their independence.  They are humble, aware of their limitations.  They are humble, aware of how dependent they are on others.  The end of life is much like the beginning– we’ll all be dependent on others for the basic needs of life.  That’s a very humbling perspective.

So if your life was made possible by lots of advantages, remember how hard life is for those who didn’t have those advantages.  And if your life is marked by hardship and struggle, let that pain connect you with others who need a friend and an ally.  Let’s not wait for the end of our lives to practice humility.  Let’s welcome that humility now, so that God can free us for lives of justice and mercy.  Today is a good day to lay down our mistaken identities, and to take up our lives as God’s beloved friends, responsible for the shape of our lives.