11 September 2011

In Memoriam: 9-11-2001

Genesis 50:15-21
Psalm 103:8-13
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

I freely admit that I will be glad when this day and all that fills it is over. We cannot, however, bury our heads in the sand, nor can we put this day back in a box and hide it in the far recesses of our hearts and minds, pretending it never happened. And since we cannot avoid this day and its painful memories, we borrow from Peter’s words upon the Mount of Transfiguration: “It is good Lord, to be here.” Good to be here, because in this place we are able to speak in ways that cannot be done in the secular arena; here we can speak in ways that are specific to our Lutheran Confession of the faith. Here we can fearlessly identify the human condition for what it is. Here in this place we can unmask false hope. Here we can speak the Gospel of Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

What we may not speak of here is the supremacy of any one nation over another. Here, we cannot claim to be a nation favored by God above all other nations. While we may say this is a good place to live – for most, but not for all – we cannot claim to occupy a higher moral ground than all other nations; we cannot say that our way of life is superior to other ways of life. Yes, this nation has certain material advantages, but we may also ask, “At what cost have these come? At what cost to ourselves and to others?” And we must not speak of this or any nation in the same breath as we speak of God – of God, who alone is our hope, who alone is our salvation, to whom alone our allegiance is due and given.

Nor can we speak on this or any other day as former British Prime Tony Blair has: of the need to wipe out Islamic extremism. Extremism is not limited to certain strains of Islam. Indeed, the whole world knows how the extremism of putative Christians has made the life of Jesus’ own people, the Jews, a living hell for some 2,000 years now. Nor is extremism along with the violence and death it brings limited to religion. Violent extremism resides everywhere and among every people, it resides in the human heart, mine included, and it is part and parcel of what we in the Church call sin – the human condition. And it will be with us until the end of days when God, and God alone, brings in the New Creation.

In this morning’s First Reading, we hear Joseph speaking kindly to his brothers, refusing to condemn them for their cut-throat envy of him and for their having sold him into slavery. “Am I in the place of God to judge you?” he asks. And then Joseph makes a confession of faith of sorts when he says, “Even though you intended to do evil to me, God took and made it for good . . .” And this past week I have heard a similar sentiment expressed – that a degree of good has come out of that which was meant for evil ten years ago – though how widely this sentiment is shared is debatable. And while there have been times when I have experienced evil being redeemed for good – this is not for me one of those times. Perhaps the best that can be said is that we have, here and there, perhaps learned some small things as a result of that horror ten years ago. But to say that good has come from it, we firmly say, “NO!” Beyond the nearly 3,000 dead of 9-11, beyond the forever-shattered lives resulting from those deaths, we have seen two resulting wars. The lowest credible estimates of the casualties, of the dead and wounded, as a result of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq is staggering. According to conservative year-old estimates, the total number of dead in Afghanistan – from every side – is nearly 20,000, and the total of the injured – 48,600. In Iraq, more than 900,000 people have died, including 800,000 civilians; the total injured – 1.7 million. And all of them, from whatever country, children of God. If any sort of commensurate good has come out of 9-11 and its aftermath – I don’t see it. And we cannot, must not, ask anyone to summon up the will or the faith to see any redemption yet breaking forth. The words of Joseph will not do us much good this day, and for the grieving they are an affront.

In the Gospel for today, we hear Jesus speak of the need to forgive – to forgive from the heart. I’ve got to be honest: as far as 9-11 and its aftermath – I’m just not there. Oh, I suppose on a good day, I can make big talk on some sort of disembodied level about forgiving the perpetrators of 9-11. I can make big talk about forgiving those who seemed so eager in the days after to rush the world into war. I can make big talk about forgiving the cruel ways in which our Islamic sisters and brothers have been and still are being treated, the cruel ways in which those of any age who even look like they might be Arabic have been treated. I can make big talk about all sorts of forgiveness – but that’s all it would be: Big Talk. Just like the unforgiving servant in Jesus’ parable, there are all sorts of folks I’d like to choke the living daylights out of. And I would never, ever presume to tell anyone whose friends or loved-ones died on 9-11 that they need to forgive – or else. Truth be told, Jesus’ parable is meant to teach Big Talk Peter, the disciples, and us that we really are not able to summon up from within ourselves the reason, the will, or the strength -- let alone the emotions -- to forgive others as we are forgiven by God. Indeed, The Law that Jesus speaks is meant to level the moral plane: when it comes to forgiveness, we’re all in the same sinking boat – it is our human condition that we just don’t have within us the power to forgive. The power to forgive is God’s power – and any forgiveness we may be able to pronounce is solely by the working of God’s Spirit. And the older I get, the more I have come to know that the work of God’s Spirit does not proceed by our timetable – and so I cannot and will not say this day to you or to anyone – “Hey, it’s been ten years. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive and move on?”

What then can we say? We can speak the Gospel – that Word from God that does not depend on anything we dredge up from inside of ourselves. The Gospel, the Good News that comes from God alone, is a word of promise not dependent upon what or how we think, is a word of promise not dependent upon what we feel, upon what we do or don’t do, a word of promise not even dependent upon our own faith, upon whether we believe it or not; it is a word of promise entirely extra nos, beyond us. The words, the Word, that I am about to speak to you – come from the Apostle Paul – and as coincidence – or something – would have it were prescribed for this, the 24^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, long before 9-11. And if you remember nothing else of this day – this year or any other year – remember these words. These are the words by which God binds God’s very own self to you. If you remember nothing else of this sermon or any other sermon or homily before or since, remember these words – they are sure and certain, for they come not from me, but from God’s own self. Listen – please, I beg you, listen, for you shall not hear them from the media, nor from any politician or public figure, nor in any public forum – but here, they are spoken for you. Listen:

If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we belong to the Lord.

Hear it again, brothers and sisters, put another way:

While you live, your true life is hidden with Christ in God, because you have already died with Christ; so then whether you live or whether you die, you are with Christ in God.

And no-one and nothing can ever take that away. Hear them again:

If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we belong to the Lord.

Hold these words fast, for they are God’s Promise to you this 9-11, as they were ten years ago, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.