19th Sunday after Pentecost
September 30, 2018
Esther 7:1-10; 9:20-22; Psalm 124; Mark 9:38-50
We have again witnessed a week of blistering divides in
our country, men and women, white and black, rich and poor, urban, suburban,
and rural, Republican and Democrat, he said, she said. You’d think we’d be sick
of it by now, or over it, or just plain ready to accept the consequences and
move on. But we haven’t. You see it on social media. You see it on TV. It’s
been a week of raw emotions for many people. I was at our District clergy
gathering on Thursday and conflict was a dominant theme of our conversation.
What was interesting was the observation that different people perceive the
same conflict to be at different levels. For some, the conflict is a level two,
it’s simply a disagreement. They don’t see eye to eye, they’re not going to see
eye to eye, and they don’t like it, but they can live with that. For others,
it’s level three, a contest to be won, or even level four, a straight-out fight
where you must soundly defeat the other side in order to win. For some, though,
what others may see as a level three, they see as a level five, which means the
conflict is completely intractable, there is absolutely no way to work this
out. It’s become us v. them, the original issue is inconsequential, it’s not a
competition to win, it’s a battle in which the other side must be annihilated,
in which the other side isn’t even seen as human anymore. I think all of us
have witnessed these different levels at one point in time or another. Our
Scriptures this morning give us two different examples of conflict, and they
both have to do with belonging, who’s in and who’s out, exclusion and inclusion.
First is the story of Esther. She was a Jewish orphan raised by her Uncle
Mordecai in Persia in the 5th century BCE. The King of Persia got
the not-so-bright idea to call for his Queen to come entertain the court wearing
nothing but her crown. The Queen refused to be used in this way and was put to
death. The King then held a beauty contest to find his next Queen and Esther
won. Esther kept her Jewish heritage a secret, however. A few years later, the
King made a guy named Haman his new prime minister and ordered that everyone
had to kneel and bow to Haman. Esther’s Uncle Mordecai refused, giving the
reason that “I am a Jew and cannot bow to Haman.” Rather than punish only Mordecai, Haman decided to punish all of Mordecai’s people, too, and
destroy all the Jews in the Persian
Empire. Haman took something that many would see as a lower level of conflict
and escalated it to level 5. This insolent fool and everyone
like him must be annihilated! Without naming names, Haman got the King’s
permission to execute everyone who did not obey the King’s laws. Mordecai and
Esther exchange messages between the palace and the King’s gate and Mordecai’s
last message to Esther said, “Do not think that because you are in the king’s
house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this
time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but
you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come
to your royal position for such a time as this?”[1]
Esther
risked her life by approaching the King without being requested and after the
King received her, she asked for the King and Haman to attend a banquet. At the
banquet, she asked for them to attend another banquet the next day. At the
second banquet, Esther asked for her life and her people’s lives to be spared,
tying their survival into the King’s honor and reputation. “If I have found
favor with you, Your Majesty, and if it pleases you, grant me my life—this is
my petition. And spare my people—this is my request. For I and my people have
been sold to be destroyed, killed and annihilated. If we had merely been sold
as slaves, I would have kept quiet, because no such distress would justify
disturbing the king.”[2]
Obviously, Esther had found favor with the King, he had even offered to give
her up to half his kingdom. So, the King agreed, and then wanted to know who
had dared to do such a thing. Haman was executed instead of the Jews. Moreover,
in the instructions for celebrating their salvation, the Jewish people were to
give gifts to each other and give gifts to the poor.
“For
such a time as this,” Esther was made Queen: to save her people, to tie the
salvation of the Jewish people with the land in which they lived. That’s one
thing the Jewish people are told when they’re in exile: to seek the welfare of
the land in which they find themselves.[3]
We are all in this together. We are all connected, black, white, male, female,
rich, poor, urban, rural, Republican, Democrat. In the superhero movie, “Black
Panther,” that came out this year, the final scene is of King T’Challa
addressing the UN, saying that his country, “Wakanda will no longer watch from
the shadows. We cannot. We must not. We will work to be an example of how we,
as brothers and sisters on this earth, should treat each other. Now, more than
ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the
truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise
build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look
after one another, as if we were one single tribe.”[4]
Are you building barriers? Or are you building bridges? That’s part of what’s
great about the story of Esther: it invites us into the narrative. What would
we have done if we were in Esther’s place? She resolutely said, “I will go to
the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.”[5]
It is worth the risk. Building bridges is risky. Extending an olive branch is
risky. De-escalating a conflict when the other person is at level five is hard.
It’s much easier and safer for us to put obstacles in each other’s way, yet
look at what Jesus had to say about that, “If anyone causes one of these little
ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large
millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into the sea.”[6]
You see, in our Gospel story today, Jesus’ disciples had
forgotten that God is not only, exclusively, on their side. The psalm we
read repeats the phrase, “If it had not been the Lord who was on our side.”[7]
It does not say that God is always on
our side, or that God always
champions our causes or is our special possession. Trying to put God on their side only got the
disciples into trouble. The disciple
John says to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name,
and we tried to stop him because he
wasn’t one of us.”[8] The disciples forgot, what I have seen
recently put by the popular author John Green, that “there is no them, there
are only facets of us.”[9]
We are all in this together. We sink or
swim together. And competing “for power
in God’s name often leads to abuse of the vulnerable, the weak, and the
powerless. Better to choose personal loss, as Esther risked, than break the
unity of the kingdom of God through our power plays.”[10]
There are no power plays in God’s kingdom. This isn’t hockey, or politics. We
are not a country club. We do not cater to the rich and powerful. Jesus is
always concerned about the least of these, about those on the fringe of
society, about those who are lost, about those who are sick, about those whose
voice is not heard, about those who simply need a cup of water. One of the
pastors at this clergy meeting last week commented on the slow change taking
place in the church she serves, from an institution or country club mentality
to simply knowing and following Jesus. Do you know Jesus? Do you know you need Jesus? Jesus, who says,
“Whoever is not against us is for us,” even if you don’t personally know them. Jesus, who says, “Do not put a
stumbling block in front of little ones.” Jesus, whose principle is to include,
not to exclude.[11]
The disciples were angling for authorized activity only, you know, the doors
marked “authorized personnel only.” They wanted to be special in the sight of
those around them and have access to restricted areas, so they could feel
important. Jesus says that all
healing done in his name, even apart from his supervision, is still authentic.
Validity does not come through a church rulebook but through the discernment of
the Holy Spirit.
We are in this together. We’re in this together as a
country, as a community, as a church. There is a lot going on the higher
levels, way up here, and most of us don’t have any control over what happens up
here. But that is not cause for anxiety or fear, because we do have control
over what happens down here. We have a say in how we act, whether we put a
stumbling block in front of someone or offer them a drink of water, whether we
include and welcome everyone or act like an elite club, whether we work for our
common good or put ourselves first. In the morning bible study we read about
how “unhealthy autonomy turns to unhealthy ego,”[12]
as in, when you focus on me, myself, and I, then you lose focus of everyone
else. Self-care does not mean you only care for yourself. God is on our side
does not mean God’s not on someone else’s side, too. God’s bigger and can do
more than you possibly imagine. God can make a way when there seems to be no
way. When all this divisiveness is going on, it’s easy to go to level five and
not even see the other side, the other person, but it is essential to remember
that we are all beloved children of
God. We are all made in God’s image.
Do not fall into the trap of dehumanizing those with whom you don’t see eye to
eye.
During
the 2016 election, I shared one political post on Facebook. It was a picture of
both candidates and the caption read, “Both of these candidates are made in the
image of God. Yes. Both.” I feel like we need one today with pictures of Judge
Kavanaugh and Dr. Ford. They are both made in the image of God. They are both
hurting. “Humanization does not say, “I don’t believe her or him,” it just
says, “I will cause no further harm.”[13]
There is a lot of harm that has been done, across the board, on all sides.
There has been a lot of dehumanization, of conflicts escalated to level five.
Let us be people of peace. Let us be people who talk others down from the
ledges. Let us be people who dare to build bridges. Let us be people who always
remember that every person, no matter how similar or dissimilar from you they
may be, is still a person and made in the image of the living God.
Jesus ended
his correction of the disciples by saying, “Salt is good, but if it loses its
saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be
at peace with each other.”[14]
My scientist husband was perplexed by how salt can stop being salt. He pointed
out that salt is made up of one sodium and one chloride, NaCl, and the only way
for it to stop being salt is to break the bond between the two elements. To
keep being salt, we have to keep that bond between us. We have to strengthen
that bond. To be salt, we have to be connected to each other.
[1]
Esther 4:13-14
[2]
Esther 7:3-4
[3]
For example, Jeremiah 29:7
[5]
Esther 4:16
[6]
Mark 9:42
[7]
Psalm 124:1a, 2a
[8]
Mark 9:38, emphasis mine
[11] Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary,
Year B, After Pentecost 2, p. 65
[12]
Adam Hamilton, Forgiveness, p. 9
[13]
Stephanie K. Moore, Facebook post, September 28, 2018
[14]
Mark 9:50
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