12/8/19 “The Possibility of Peace in an Imperfect World” by Nancy Petty

Scripture: Isaiah 11:1-10

Our faith, the Christian faith, is a faith rooted in possibility. It is a story of possibilities that come to God’s imperfect people through clouds and fires and dreams and visions of what can be in the midst of what is. This faith of ours, rooted in possibility, has inspired generations of searchers and seekers to follow the way of hope and peace. This faith of ours, left with nothing but possibility has stirred and stimulated ordinary people to risk extraordinary acts for justice and love. This faith of ours, rooted in possibility, has moved midwives to subvert the systems of dominance, small shepherd boys to take on the goliath’s of the world, people who stutter to lead movements, and barren old women to birth new life. It has motivated friends to tear off roofs of houses so they can get their friend the help their friend needs. This faith of ours, rooted in possibility, has persuaded world leaders to bathe in lowly waters to heal themselves. It has moved those silenced by their society to announce the news of resurrection and revolution.

So who are these imperfect people and how were they used to bring peace and justice? Who are we talking about? Sometimes, sometimes we just need to be reminded of the possibilities, and of the ordinary people who brought them forward.

First, we have an orphan turned fugitive on the lamb, a man who took the life of another man in a moment of passionate anger. A man who never wanted to lead.

2 There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. 3 Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” 4 When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” 5 Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” 6 God said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

This man, this man led his people into the promised land.

Next, we have some folks who were at the very bottom of the ladder in terms of social and political capital in their day – Hebrew women during the time of Egyptian oppression. These weren’t saints. They weren’t trained theologians. They were everyday working women.

15 The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, 16 “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.” 17 But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live. 18 So the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?” 19 The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” 20 So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. 21 And because the midwives feared God, God gave them families.

Working women who saved an entire race of people.

Now, a familiar story of an underdog, a shepherd with no military training, no real weapons, and no real hope of victory.

48 When the Philistine, Goliath, drew nearer to meet David, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine. 49 David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground. 50 So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone, striking down the Philistine.

A teenager who stood up to the powers and principalities. Youth, you are never too young to change the world.

Again we turn to women, this time in the story of Jesus. Women who are excluded from the narrative in all but the domestic ways of feeding, cleaning, serving. And yet, these imperfect women are the first witnesses to proclaim resurrection.

28 After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he[a] lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead,[b] and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Strong women who would not let society dictated their place in life’s narrative.

How about a black man in the Jim Crow South, who suffered from depression, caused in part by the systematic oppression of his entire race.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, that one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exhalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning, “My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrims’ pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

-MLK

A flawed man with a dream that change the course of history.

And a privileged young charismatic Catholic who liked the ladies a little too much.

We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom — symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning — signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe — the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans — born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage — and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world…And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.

-JFK

An imperfect man with a vision of what his country could be.
And finally, imperfect Jesse, who yields a divine branch, growing out of his imperfect roots.

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
     and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
2 The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
3 His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
     or decide by what his ears hear;
4 but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
    and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;
he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
    and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
5 Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,
    and faithfulness the belt around his loins.
6 The wolf shall live with the lamb,
     the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
    and a little child shall lead them.
7 The cow and the bear shall graze,
    their young shall lie down together;
    and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
    and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
9 They will not hurt or destroy
    on all my holy mountain;
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.
10 On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

There are times when I feel overwhelmed by these visions and dreams of what can be in the midst of what is, especially when it comes to peace on earth. These words, all of them, represent the ideal, the perfect. And yet, they all came through imperfect people! They can sound unattainable—to perfect to be lived out by imperfect people—but they were manifested using the ordinary people of God. God knows that we are inundated in our culture with the need for perfection—in the way we look, in our jobs, in our families, in our relationships, in how we celebrate holidays. But what we must remember is that all of these great works and words were delivered through imperfect people living in an imperfect world. Nevertheless, they had the courage to speak them. But more importantly, they had a faith, rooted in possibility, that they stepped out on, and in stepping out on nothing, nothing but possibility, they changed the world.

We, those of us sitting in this sanctuary, are the imperfect people living in an imperfect world who have inherited the same legacy of possibilities. We, those of us sitting in these pews, are the imperfect people living in this imperfect world left to see through the clouds and fires and visions and dreams to the way of hope and the way of peace. We, a small group of Christian men who silently attend weekly prayers at the local mosque—imperfect people who today carry a dream that God is big enough to speak through all faith tradition. We, a dedicated group who calls together people of all faith traditions to build coalitions to care for our planet and seek to eliminate homelessness—imperfect people who carry the dream that one day all God’s children will have enough food to eat and a home in which to live. We, a committed flock of volunteers who feed and befriend the homeless every week at a ministry called Roundtables. We, individuals who show up on Wednesday afternoon to mentor and tutor kids who are struggling in school. We, a remnant who gather on Sunday mornings in the chapel to pray and meditate on the things that make for peace. We, ordinary people who visit the sick and the home-based. We, imperfect people who march and protest and go to jail for voting rights and healthcare for all and living wages for people who keep our communities feed, who pick up our waste, who teach our children, who pick the vegetables that fill our tables at holiday meals. All imperfect people living in an imperfect world still dreaming and seeing visions and acknowledging the burning bushes. These are acts of possibility that blaze the trial for hope and peace in our world.

If our faith is anything, it is a faith rooted in possibility lived out by imperfect people in an imperfect world. May our hearts be stirred by the possibilities for a kind of peace that can only come in the risks we, imperfect people, take when we allow our dreams and visions to transform our imperfect world. With God’s help, may we never “let the perfect be the enemy of the good” in spreading hope and working for peace.