Sermons for the Month
Bust Out Love
DATE: Mary 14, 2000
SERVICE: Easter IV
TEXT: John 10:11-18“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN
Hate is in the news again. Just last month, a federal judged ruled that just because a white man shot bullets into his black neighbor's house with his wife and two kids inside while yelling "we don't want your kind in our neighborhood" doesn't mean he hated them. Many states including Ohio have some laws on the books about "hate crimes." Does this mean that hate as an emotion will leave us anytime soon? I don't think so. Eradicating hate is just about as easy as getting rid of the Grackles in my backyard. Jesus urges us to try, however. Love will prevail - ultimately - over hate. But hate is a here-and-now problem. And resisting it is not for the faint of heart. In fact, Jesus says that the only way to put the hurt on hate is with love. The church should take a back seat to no one in resisting evil. The shepherd paradigm provides as model, and the way Jesus explained it, there are two types of shepherds: Those who own the sheep and those who don't. The ones who don't - the hired hands - aren't committed. They can't be trusted in times of danger. They aren't invested in the sheep. There's no love for bleating woolly ones. Hireling shepherds, at first sight of trouble, at first glimpse of wolves, likely throw down their crooks, hitch up their robes and run lickety-split in the opposite direction, leaving the sheep without protection. Is that the kind of shepherd you want standing watch over you? Is that the kind of shepherd you want your mother to be? Is that the kind of shepherd you want to be? Is that the kind of shepherd Jesus is? What kind of church would we be if we turned our backs on those who are weak, threatened or in danger? What kind of mother would we want that would turned her back on her children when the are the most weak and defenseless? Today is one Mother's Day. On this day I can't help but think of my own mother. Now Mom was a corker as the few of you who knew her can attest. During my growing up years, you didn't cross or sass Mom. She'd tear into you for all she was worth. At the same time, she would tear into anyone else that spoke ill of her children. One day in grade school I was sent to the Principal's office and my Mom was called. I thought my career as a child if not my life was over. I was more afraid of my Mother than I was of the principal. After explaining to her what I had done--and we won't go into that now--I nearly fell off my chair when she came to my defense asking about the others that were involved in the indiscretion. I could have kissed her--which I did on the way to the car because I knew when I got into the car, I was dead meat! The good shepherd is committed, is invested in the sheep, has a sense of ownership of the little ones, and stands between the wolf and the flock with her crook raised, feet solidly planted, eyes sharp, ears listening - all body, soul and mind - at the ready. He's ready to fight if necessary, even to die if need be, out of love for the sheep - not out of hate for the wolf. Today we, too - as we model the Good Shepherd - must as part of our Christian call be willing to stand in between the hate mongers and the powerless. We must love and sacrifice, protect the weak, the isolated, the stranger and the alien. Christians collectively chased hate mongers in the autumn of 1998 in Presque Isle, Maine, after young men defaced a synagogue using magic markers by scrawling "Burn Jews" on the front door and drawing 12-inch swastikas on either side. Raphael Gribetz, synagogue leader, contacted local Christian clergy. Reverend Bob Grove-Marker, of the Presque Isle Congregational Church, said, "The Christian response came a few days later when 400 to 500 people gathered in the street and front yard of the synagogue for a candlelight vigil followed by a march to the local college. It was a large gathering of neighbors in a small town who were shocked and appalled." That week the Reverend created a quarter-page-sized newspaper ad, then circulated it in the local paper. Community members were asked to cut out the ad and tape it to their home or car windows as another sign of solidarity. "An incredible number were seen around town during those high holy days of November," he said. Shepherding isn't a passive job for the faithless. It takes guts and savvy, alertness and action. Maybe you don't have any known hate-mongers in your neighborhood defacing churches or synagogues, spouting "hate speech." But hate is always plentiful. What about the local bully? Who stands up to him? What about the teaser? The name caller? The gossip? The human predator? The racist? The bigot? The anti-Semite? The liar? The verbal abuser? The violent husband or wife? The gay-basher? Who will stand up to "stand between?" There was no one standing between for Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, the middleweight boxer, in 1966, when he was wrongfully convicted of a triple murder and sentenced to three life terms. No doubt about it, Carter was a troubled youth bouncing in and out of jail. But in 1961, he started boxing and became known for his rapid-fire pugilistic style. Carter was convicted of the Patterson, New Jersey, bar slayings because of false testimony fueled by hatred, bigotry and racism. A few years after he was thrown in prison, he wrote a book, The 16th Round, an autobiography which created a lot of media buzz and grabbed the attention of Bob Dylan who wrote his 1975 song "Hurricane," a development which made Carter famous worldwide. But it wasn't until 1988 at the age of 50 that Carter won his release. He now lives in Toronto, Canada. In the film Hurricane (directed by Norman Jewison), Carter is played by Denzel Washington, a roll for which he received a nomination as best actor for this year's Academy Awards. Near the end of the movie, Washington says to a visitor in prison, "Hate put me in here, but love is going to bust me out." Bob Dylan's 1975 song ended with these words: That's the story of the Hurricane, But it won't be over till they clear his name And give him back the time he's done. Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been The champion of the world. Love is a bust-out weapon. Use it, and you'll be a champion. A winner. A Christian. The sort of standup shepherd Jesus was. Laying down his life for the sheep. AMEN