SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
Ezekiel 2:1-5
Psalm 123
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13
Prayer of the Day: God of the covenant, in our baptism you call us to proclaim the coming of your kingdom. Give us the courage you gave the apostles, that we may faithfully witness to your love and peace in every circumstance of life, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.
“Prophets are not without honour, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” Mark 6:4.
For the last decade, people like me have been in a state of collective denial. When Donald Trump first descended the escalator announcing his candidacy, we laughed. Nobody in their right mind, we thought, will take this buffoon seriously. Then November 8, 2016 dawned and we learned that Donald J. Trump, the mulitbankruptcy business failure, flamboyant reality TV showman, unrepentant racist and sexual predator, would indeed occupy the oval office. “This is not us,” we gasped. We tried to rationalize the result. Hillary Clinton was a weak candidate. Her campaign failed to work hard enough in the crucial swing states. Voter turnout was low that year which always favors Republicans. Surely, this election was a fluke, an artifact, a blip on the radar. Surely the next four years, however bleak they might be, will shock the Republican party and the country back into sanity.
When Joe Biden won both the popular and electoral majority over Trump in 2020, we assured ourselves that sanity had, in fact returned. But that assurance was misplaced. While 80 million people turned out to vote for Biden, a whopping 70 million voted for Trump. Then came the January 6, 2021 Republican insurrection.[1] In the wake of that shocking day, the old refrain was played again. “This is not us. This is not who we are.” Again, we comforted ourselves with the belief that, finally, the Republican party will recognize the monster they have created. Surely, this will wake up the American people to the true nature of Trumpism and the malignancy of the MAGA mob. For a few brief days that seemed to be so. Both Republican Senate leader Mitch McConnell and House leader Kevin McCarthy blamed Donald Trump for instigating the insurrection that could well have gotten them both killed. But when it became clear that the MAGA mob was as loyal as ever to its head, both men crawled back to their master.
Still, we hoped that the era of Trump would pass. We expected him to continue making noise, holding racous rallies with a steadily diminishing base of supporters and disrupting the political process wherever possible. But he would, we were convinced, fade into the mist like Joe McCarthy, George Wallace, Strom Thurman and all the other American demagogues. After four years of his chaotic presidency ending in an attack on your democracy which, up to that point, would have been unthinkable, we could not imagine the country giving Donald Trump a second term. This is America after all.
We should have known better. We ought to have realized that the demons of misogyny, homophobia, xenophobia, anti-intellectualism and, above all, racism have never been cast out of our nation’s soul. They are and always have been essential elements of our cultural DNA. Like a recessive gene, they can skip a generation, lie dormant for a spell fulminating in the darkness of skeevy locker rooms, smoke filled bars and backyard barbeques. But eventually, they erupt like a cancerous sore into the public square and metastasize into systemic malignancy.
People like me, who can still recall the struggle for racial equality and civil rights, the battles hard fought by courageous women for equality, reproductive freedom and access to the professions, the days when merely being suspected of being gay could turn you into a social pariah, get you fired from your job and perhaps get you killed, we all assumed that the progress made in these areas was permanent. To be sure, there remained much to be done, but we were convinced that a solid foundation had been established upon which to build. In fact, however, there have always been forces at work undermining that foundation. It was never as secure as we though it was. We should not have been shocked or surprised to see it crumble.
The bottom line is that up to half of our country’s population is OK with voting for a man who has been found by a jury to have sexually assaulted a woman, convicted by a jury of a felony, found guilty of financial fraud in a court of law, and indicted for inciting an insurrection against the United States government, stealing sensitive classified government documents and fraudulently attempting to overturn an election. Further, these same Americans are OK with Donald Trump’s pardoning of rioters guilty of violently attacking our capital, obstructing our democratic processes and killing a police officer in the process. How can they possibly support the candidacy of such an individual?
Reams of paper, bandwidth busting blogs and countless hours of air time have been dedicated to explaining the attraction of Donald Trump. But the explanation is simpler than any of us want to believe. Donald Trump’s anger, narcissism and sense of victimhood appeal to a large sector of America that sees in his rage their own anger and frustration with a country that is changing too fast for them. Donald Trump is the middle finger of the fragile white man[2] who finds himself in a world where women are stepping into the jobs that were once his, where people of color are moving into neighborhoods, workplaces and schools he feels are his own, where stores are popping up in his town with foreign sounding names and people on the streets are speaking languages he cannot understand, where the faces on TV, in advertising and the movies are increasingly non-white. He sees his religion, his values and way of life mocked on late night comedy. It seems to him that the country is being taken away from him and he is mad as hell about it. These people are not” fringe” folk. They are America every bit as much as any of us.
I want to be clear that this not is about the upcoming election. No matter who occupies the Whitehouse in January of 2025, the demonic spirits inspiring hatred and violence will still be among us. They always have been. The mob that attacked the capital in 2021 is essentially the same mob that burned down thirty-five acres of the Black commercial district of Tulsa known as Greenwood in 1921 killing as many as three-hundred. Current and proposed legislation limiting the reproductive rights of women is based on the same rationale employed by the National Association Opposed to Woman Suffrage in 1911, namely, that women lack the capacity to make decisions for themselves. The Hitleresque rhetoric of “foreign vermin” and the “poisoning” American blood has its antecedent in rhetoric spewed by the German American Bund Nazi rally at Madison Square Garden in 1939. Racism, sexism, homophobia and xenophobia are as American as apple pie. We cannot with integrity insist with moral indignation that “this is not who we are.” The foul spirit of MAGA has not only hijacked one of our two major parties. It infects our schools, our neighborhoods and it sits with us each Sunday in the pews of our churches.
Preaching this stuff on a celebratory holiday like Independence Day might not seem like a good idea. Amidst the noise of fireworks, “God Bless America” and patriotic speeches, truthful speech about our nation and its culture strike a distinctly dissonant chord. Nobody wants to hear that America is sick on the Fourth of July. Still less popular is the sad truth that this sickness has infected the church as well and that within the church is precisely where we need to start treating it. Healing ourselves will be painful. Genuine repentance always is. But ecclesiastical healing is urgently needed. The one, holy, catholic and apostolic church that knows no racial, tribal or national borders exists to give us a better vision of what it means to be human. The church exists to expose the empty promises made by the false gods of nation, race, blood and soil that would distort our image of God and turn us against one another. It is to be a living witness that the human family is one. God knows we need that witness in these days!
Jesus knew, as did the Hebrew prophets, that “prophets are not without honor, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” In our lesson from the Hebrew scriptures Ezekiel is warned that his words might not be heeded. Nevertheless, “whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house), they shall know that there has been a prophet among them.” Ezekiel 2:5. Ezekiel did not live to see the effects of his preaching. For all we know, he may have died wondering whether he had wasted his life speaking words nobody was hearing. But his words, preserved in some way, shape or form, brought understanding and hope to an exiled community and inspired that community to rise up from the ashes of defeat to welcome a new day. It is God’s responsibility to fulfill God’s word. Our only job is to proclaim it.
One of my readers told me recently, “I hear what you are saying about prophetic preaching. But some of those people wearing MAGA hats call me ‘pastor.’” I get that. I cannot emphasize enough that we need to distinguish between the hateful ideologies that deserve no tolerance and the persons enslaved to them who need our love, our patience and our forgiveness. Nonetheless, they also need our truthful witness, admonition and correction. To attempt either without the other is pastoral malpractice. Preaching, teaching and leading are daunting tasks in these days. Of course, they always have been. Current events only serve to make us aware of just how crucial they are and how we may well have failed to give them the attention they deserve. Hopefully we will also be spurred on to give them all the thought, time, effort and imagination we can muster-and the courage we need to accept the consequences.
In closing, I have sometimes been accused of being an “America hater.” I do not hate America-anymore than Jesus and the Hebrew prophets hated Judah and Israel. To the contrary, there is much that I love about this country. I love its cultural richness and diversity. I love the many different communities in which I have lived and the way in which people of diverse views, conflicting interests and unique backgrounds so often come together to solve problems and work together for the common good. I love each of our great cities and their unique characters and histories. I love our wilderness areas. I also love the commitment so many Americans have displayed in seeking to make the values of freedom and equality real for all of us. But love brings with it some difficult responsibilities. When you see that one of your relatives or friends has a serious drinking problem that is destroying his life and harming those dear to her, you don’t turn a blind eye. You don’t ignore the obvious or make excuses that enable them to continue on with their self destructive behavior. You confront them with the truth. You make them face their dependence. You make them see the consequences of their behavior. Then you offer to walk with them on their journey to recovery. True patriots do the same for their country.
Here is a poem by Claude McCay reflecting love for a flawed, unjust and tyrannical nation that America has been for African Americans and too many others as well.
America
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Source: Liberator (The Library of America, 1921). Claude McKay (1889-1948) was born Festus Claudius McKay in Nairne Castle, Jamaica. He came to the United States in 1912 to attend the Tuskegee Institute. McKay was shocked by the racism he encountered in this country and that experience of culture shock shaped his career as a writer and poet. McKay became a key figure in the Harlem Renaissance, a Black American intellectual, social, and artistic movement centered in Harlem, New York spanning the 1920s. His poetry celebrates peasant life in Jamaica, challenges white supremacy in America and lifts up the struggles of black men and women striving to live their lives with dignity in a racist culture. You can learn more about Claude McKay and read more of his poetry on the Poetry Foundation Website.
[1] Some might object to my so characterizing the January 6th attempted coup. They might complain that I am being inflammatory and unfair. Too bad. In the aftermath of the riot, we heard Republican Senators insist that the whole event was nothing more than a sight seeing tour. Now the presumptive Republican presidential nominee, who called his mob to Washington and sent them to Capital Hill, is calling these insurrectionists, who smashed down the doors of our capital, carried the flag of treason through its halls and smeared dung in its offices “patriots” and those who have been identified and prosecuted as “hostages.” The January 6th insurrection has Republican fingerprints all over it. It was a Republican circus and Republicans must own the mess their monkeys made.
[2] Yes, I know there are a lot of women who support Donald Trump. I know there are people of color who support him as well. Trump’s appeal goes beyond racism, however. His misogyny, homophobia and xenophobic hatred of migrants plays well among Americans and crosses over into other demographics which might find some of his racist rhetoric objectionable. Witness how hatred of liberals and LGBTQ+ folk can induce evangelicals to excuse rape, adultery, racism and fraud in a president who is willing to advance their political agenda. Common hatred makes strange bedfellows.