A benefit concert is offered this morning. The text is from Paul's Letter to the Romans 12:9-21. The oratorio is sung for all those affected by Hurricane Katrina, including ourselves.
An uplifting opening chorus introduces the title of the work: “Let love be genuine” (12:9). But soon after this beautiful theme is heard, the music turns dark and brooding: “Hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good” (12:9). The chorus divides into parts that fight against each other, creating sharp dissonance and irreconcilable counterrhythms. In this movement, we hear, we see, life as it is: neither purely good (in a storm's aftermath of compassionate Samaritans) nor purely evil (looting, violence, inadequate responses), but a struggle between them.
The opening chorus then ends on an unresolved chord, suggesting the tension that fills the rest of the oratorio, the rest of our lives. There are arias and choruses that keep oscillating between genuine love and love's distortions: an arrogant contentment that precluded the possibility that such bad things could happen to us, here; hiding issues of justice and right action behind a facile appeal to unity while ‘help is on the way'.
We hear, then, a lively soprano aria to a gigue like tune, telling us to “rejoice in hope,” followed by a subdued contralto lament with English horn, “be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer” (12:12). And our memory, not our imagination, supplies scenes we will never forget: the dead floating or slumped in a grocery cart; infants dehydrated; and, in the heat, strangers helping strangers, holding hands.
As aria follows aria, we compare Paul's libretto to the life we live and wonder: How can we ever embody the ideals singing in our hearts? “Let love be genuine”? It seems God is a dreamer, as we listen to more of the lyrics: “Outdo one another in showing honor… Never flag in zeal… Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering… Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality.” And then themes and words that come in from other works, other parts of our lives: “… Bless those who persecute you… Do not repay evil for evil… If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink… Overcome evil with good.”
God seems to think we can have a world where lambs and wolves can seek refuge in the same Superdome, where guns are used, instead, as oars to paddle out of the flood waters, where no one is left behind. God actually wants us to love one another, we know that, the Bible tells us so. But in a crisis how do we let love be absolutely genuine?
But then, as some people say, God is a dreamer. For instance, God is asking us to “outdo one another” in showing honor. Does ‘showing honor' mean passing out awards when it is all over? Or does it mean to excel in courtesy, making sure that everyone who needs shelter is included, whether they are in New Orleans during a hurricane or walking into this church community during a storm in their lives?
And then there is the admonition that we never flag in zeal. Zeal is a dangerous word. A lot of religious talk these days is filled with zeal. The Spanish Inquisition never lacked for zeal. Zeal has been used as a screen to hide racism, ethnic hatred and gender violence—Zeal as venom. But zeal is really passion, passionate love for God, unfailing devotion; which would have us stop seeing one another in our own judgmental terms and, instead, start seeking the Christ in each and every person.
The call to “rejoice in hope and be patient in suffering” is typical, too, of God the dreamer. God must be crazy! Who wouldn't lose hope and faith when the promise of rescue seems a cruel joke? In your own life you know how hard it was when your spouse ran off, when your business collapsed, when your cancer came back!
Yet, God knows something we can forget under such conditions: that only a rejoicing faith will sustain and feed us and comfort us in the worst of times. Rejoicing never killed anyone.
Rejoicing and hope are not choices for people of faith, really. They are commandments as important as the original “Ten”.
Can you force yourself to feel joy and hope (we ask ourselves as the concert continues)? No. But you can start going through the actions of joy, whether you feel them or not. You can learn to smile and give thanks to God even in the midst of trouble.
“National disgrace! Who is to blame?” O, these headlines better not get in the way of when we go marching in to “contribute to the needs of the saints”. Do we want to be in that number? Because it is going to be a long march. And it is about more than New Orleans, Gulfport and Biloxi. Contributing to the needs of the saints goes all the way to Paul's next line, “Extend hospitality.” And that goes beyond having friends over or taking someone to lunch. The hospitality part is linked to the contribution part. That means the next time we see that broken down woman sitting in front of Rite Aid on the corner of Continental and Austin we had better cease from our usual NY blindness. If we do not see her, how can we promise we will see to bayou kids getting their schools rebuilt?
What we begin to realize, as we listen through Paul's oratorio, is that this seeming bombardment of themes has an interrelation: Genuine love involves something greater than the efforts of our individual hearts. It requires a healthy community life, spiritual vitality and living in peace with all persons.
This brings us nearer the conclusion of this morning's concert, to the lines where Paul, who seldom quotes directly, uses the voice of Jesus to reach the faith that sings in our heart: “Bless those who persecute you. Do not repay anyone evil for evil.” (12:14; Luke 6:28).
You might ask how our persecutors and the hurricane are connected. In recent years, as life on this planet has become more complex and confusing--experienced as a storm assaulting our assumptions about who we are and the world in which we live--we have, more and more, been drawing lines, zeroing in on targets, and going it alone. Yes, our persecutors terrorize us at home, and others throughout the world. But God says, "Bless and do not curse them." God the Dreamer. Still, we do know this fact of our spirituality. So then, how do we bless our persecutors? By asking God's blessing not only for victims but also on everyone who ever hurt us, or our friends or our country. In our prayers we cannot just name the ones we love, we ask God to bless and love the leaders of hostile nations, even the hostile insurgents within struggling nations, even the suicide bombers who detonate on a subway, bus or crowded marketplace. And in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, we ask God to bless those who violently abused as well as politicians and administrators who failed to comprehend.
"Persevere in prayer." The gift of prayer is not meant to tell God how to manage the world. We are not God's Emergency Management Administration. Ultimately, we do not make the 'homeland' secure. God knows what to do. Prayer is meant to lift us out of our everyday struggle to control and instead to place us in God's Presence. Yes, this is a time of prayer. And while praying for our friends and for our brothers and sisters to the south is honorable and a natural result of our concern for their health and welfare, the idea of praying for our enemies comes from God's concern for us. Jesus said that even sinners love and pray for their friends; it's harder, but even more necessary, to bless our enemies.
When you bless your enemies, you do two things: you begin to release the bond of hatred that keeps those people imprisoned in their own hell. At the same time, you open your life to the working of God's Spirit. If you ask God to bless the most wicked person you know, you create an opening in your spirit, a way for the Holy Spirit to bring you to wholeness and holiness, rather than remaining blocked and partial by anger, hatred or judgment. Then, instead of leveling blame, you become a leader in rebuilding by letting love be genuine.
Some people say God is a dreamer. Yes, God dreamed and spoke galaxies into being, creating this garden planet and its inhabitants as part of a divine dream. But God's not the only one who dreams. We can resist God's ideas as being foolish or impractical, or we can choose to wake up into the presence of the Dreamer, daring to join the chorus that sings God's dream into reality.
Let love be genuine;
hold fast to what is good.
Do not be overcome by evil,
but overcome evil with good.
Amen.