Changing the Narrative

"You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'  But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.  For whoever keeps keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it."

James 2: 8-10

There is a story about a homeless woman sitting outside a large church one Sunday morning.  She was smelly and dirty.  The people walking by did all they could to avoid her.  One by one they ignored her.  She would put her hand out for some change, but only a few children would drop some nickels and dimes for her.  Finally one couple did ask if she wanted to come inside since was pretty cold out.  And when she came in one of the vergers, who was showing people to their seats, asked that she sit in the very back of the church so that her oder wouldn’t offend anyone.  She complied.  Still, nobody said good morning to her.  As the prelude ended the senior warden stood up and notified the congregation that their new priest—who was to start the next week—was actually there that day to worship with them.  So he asked if Mother Smith could stand up and come forward to greet her new congregation.  Slowly the homeless woman stood up from the back pew and walked silently up front.  People’s mouths dropped, some folks cried because they realized how they had ignored her earlier.  And when she got up front, Mother Smith said simply, “We have a lot of work to do.”  And she dismissed her congregation, to go home and think and pray about what they had seen and how they had reacted.  

Homeless Jesus

That story may be apocryphal, but it is precisely what James is warning us against in his letter.  James' community was ripe with dysfunction, more concerned with the pomp and circumstance of their own worship, rather than the genuine, heartfelt worship that stirs in God’s faithful people and compels them to put their faith into action.  At some point members of this community had indeed shown special attention to the rich and successful in their midst, giving them the best seats and most distinguished positions, while the poorest of their number, the homeless, the jobless, the dirty and smelly, were all but ignored.  The community had, as James puts it, made distinctions among themselves and become judges of one another.  While something that extreme may not literally take place here in our congregations, we do see it all around us, and such behavior is a call for us to recognize and put aside our prejudices.  All of our prejudices.

In that spirit,  Episcopal congregations throughout the country this past Sunday joined with our brothers and sisters in the African Methodist Episcopal Church, the AME Zion Church, and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America for what most have called End Racism Sunday.  But more than that, this day has been a call to stand together and observe the sin of prejudice—in all its forms—and to rally together and pledge to end it.  But pledging is only the beginning.  We have to talk about it.  We have to be honest about the sins we have committed.  We have to seek forgiveness.  And we have to realize that prejudice manifests itself in so many ways, not just in racism, but in class warfare, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and religious zealotry.  

By now you have all seen and heard the story of Kim Davis, the woman in Kentucky who refused to issue a marriage license to gay couples on the grounds that her religious beliefs would be compromised, even though she was a county clerk, a government employee, and even though the law of the land is that she do so.  She eventually was arrested on the grounds of contempt of court.  Her supporters call her a martyr.  Her detractors attack everything from her religion to her southern heritage.  That's not the proper response, either. Here is simply someone who has used her religion as a crutch for her own prejudice and has caused a great deal of pain to others, many of whom claim to follow the same Lord that she does, all because she used her personal religious beliefs to justify her own prejudice.  

Kim Davis, Kentucky clerk who refused to issue marriage licenses to same-gender couple on religious grounds.

Scripture has long been used to beat down the Other.  Passages from Paul and even Jesus were used to justify the institution of slavery.  And in this country, Old Testament lines about not mixing with other societies were used to back Jim Crow laws and to deny inter-racial couples the right to marry.  Those of us who claim Jesus as our Lord have, many many times, used our very faith to justify denying basic human freedoms to folks who are not like us. Our personal prejudices do indeed continue to be used to make distinctions between us and them. 

So how do we change the narrative?  One way is to be honest with ourselves and our own prejudices.  That's why I want to tell you a story of my prejudice.  It's a story I am not proud of, but it's one I vow to remember so that I do not make the same mistake again.  In 2011 I was visiting Jerusalem and walked by an outdoor shop in what’s called the Muslim Quarter of the Old City.  I heard over a speaker a man shouting in Arabic.  He sounded angry, as though he were ranting and raving at someone.  Meanwhile folks gathered around the little speaker to hear him.  I asked my guide, an Episcopal priest from San Francisco, what the man was shouting.  I figured he was screaming about the ills of society, maybe a few curses to the Israeli government, to the Jews, to Christians, or to Americans.  No, my guide said, he’s letting the folks know how much his goods cost.  In that moment I realized the prejudice that had been programmed into me.  I heard Arabic and immediately associated it with a Muslim radical who hated America.  I’ll never forget that feeling.  

It’s institutional prejudice.  It’s not natural, but it is programmed into us, taught to us over time.  If a man is heard yelling Arabic he must be a radical Muslim.  If a woman is dirty, smelly, and asking for money she must clearly want booze or drugs.  If black person wearing baggy clothing in a predominantly white neighborhood he must be a hoodlum and up to no good.  If a gay couple joins a community they must want to convert every heterosexual and warp the children’s minds.  These thoughts are not natural, they are fed to us over time.  

Another way that we change the narrative is to avoid the easy trap of self-righteousness.  James warns against it.  He quotes the commandments, reminding us that the one who said thou shalt not commit adultery also said thou shalt not murder.  The Kentucky clerk was quick to deny gay couples’ marriage licenses on religious grounds, but she herself had been married 4 times, something Scripture says is unacceptable.  We conveniently forget our own sins so that we can point the finger of self-righteousness, find a scapegoat, and go about feeling better about ourselves and acting like nothing is actually wrong.  But that does not end the prejudice.  It only feeds it. Placing blame on someone and getting rid of that someone will not change the culture of destructive behavior. When a flower doesn’t bloom you don’t replace the flower, you fix the environment in which it grows. 

That is our charge, to fix our environment by having the hard conversations,  by changing the narrative, by owning our past and working for a brighter future, by being mindful of little things like the words we use to describe people, so that we truly respect everyone’s dignity. This is what putting our faith into action looks like, showing our faith with the works of our daily lives.  If we do that, maybe we will not only believe that we should love our neighbors as ourselves but we’ll actually do it. Our black neighbor.  Our gay neighbor.  Our Muslim neighbor.  Our Atheist neighbor.  Maybe we'll start acting as if Jesus were really serious when he told us to love them.

For in Christ there is no east or west, south or north, black or white, gay or straight, or any other man-made labels. So let’s be honest with one another. Embrace one another.  Take care of one another.  Do it enough, and we’ll change the narrative.  Through love, resilience, radical kindness, and unrelenting hope. Do it enough, and you'll change the world, and we will be, to quote Dr. King, truly, “free at last.”  Thank God Almighty!