Walking the Minefields: Lent 1

Text: Mark 1:9-15
St Columba's Kent, WA

I just returned from a trip to Palestine. While I was there, we visited the Jordan river and reaffirmed our baptismal vows in the muddy waters of the Jordan. The area was under Israeli control and as we walked back the land on either side of us was littered with minefields. Barbed wire fences marked “Danger! Mines!” surrounded us. It was a reminder of the war and the destruction experienced in that land. It was a reminder of the giant concrete wall that ran through that land, imprisoning a whole people under occupation.

 

 

At the river, we said:

“We will continue in the apostles teaching, the breaking of the bread, and prayers.”

At the river, we said:

“We will respect the dignity of every human being”

We reaffirmed our baptismal covenant.

And then we walked past a minefield to bear witness to tremendous suffering and oppression.

When Jesus was baptized in that same river 2,000 years ago, he was also living under military occupation. He was living in a land suffering from deep poverty, suffering the humiliation and the danger of living under a military occupation.

He was baptized in that land.

And, after his baptism, after his wilderness experience, he sets off to Galilee, the place he grew up, to proclaim this message:

"The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."

I always imagine what a message this must have been in Galilee. The place where over half of what people grew to eat was taxed and so children went hungry. The place where, at times, the roads were lined with crosses as the Roman governor executed rebellious people. The place where I imagine people were so tempted to give into despair. To give up hope.

The kingdom of God has come near.

Turn around. Turn away from despair. Turn away from hopelessness. Turn away from the messages of empire. And build a new kingdom.

And turn toward the kingdom of God, which is here, which is coming. Believe that this good news is possible. Trust and hope that it is possible.

The kingdom of God comes, and Jesus preaches it, as he walks into the minefields with his people. As he walks the way of the death with his people—he points to the coming kingdom of God. He teaches his people to live the kingdom of God in the face of empire.

In Acts, as Jesus’ followers take up his mission, they design a community where all are fed and no one goes hungry. They design a community where all are given dignity and are able to live in dignity.

As a few of you might know, I work in Grays Harbor County, in Aberdeen and Westport, both rural towns, and I run a ministry called Chaplains on the Harbor.

Our mission is to work alongside people living on the streets and in poverty. We struggle deeply with poverty in my county. 50% of people live under 200% of the poverty line. Hundreds of my brothers, my sisters live on the street and hundreds more, esp young people, couch surf. In Aberdeen, we die of treatable diseases and often live in homes and tent cities without running water, heat, or electricity.

And people have so often given into despair. 1/3 of our high schoolers struggle with severe depression. Most of the people I talk to wonder if hope is possible.

People who visit Grays Harbor or Aberdeen say; “I’ve never seen so many people, I’ve never seen so many young people who look so defeated.”

In this place, in this context, Jesus’ message is profound.

“Turn around. Repent. The kingdom of God is coming. Hope is possible. Each of you, every one of us, is a child of God and deserves dignity and life and a future.”

This Lent, in our Bible study, we are asking about our hopes and dreams for Aberdeen. People who are experiencing dire poverty are asking—how can we raise awareness of poverty in our city? How can we address the powers that be? How can we fight for better housing and a better life? How can, and people get really excited about this, how can we build a movement to end poverty in our county?

How can, in other words, how can we struggle for the kingdom of God?

What we see in Aberdeen and in Westport, is the same thing that people all over the US are experiencing. Its not only Aberdeen. In the United States, 1% of our population, 3.5 million people, are homeless in any given year. In the United States, 50% of our national population is either poor or low income, and a growing number of those people are in small towns and suburbs. Poverty is a national crisis. It is our minefield. I know you see similar realities here in Kent, in south King county, with increasing suburban poverty and homelessness.

Part of the reason I was invited to come here and speak with you is that you are hosting a men’s shelter for the month of March. First, I want to say, thank you so much for being willing to do this. The number of people who are finding themselves houseless is growing in this country. What a great Lenten practice, to live out the gospel in this way, to offer shelter to Jesus wandering on the road, to give rest to Jesus as he walks the way of the cross.

Today, it is an invitation to our baptismal covenant.

So often, in our society we frame this work as “helping others.” As “doing a Christian duty of charity.” Feeding the hungry, housing the houseless.

Our baptismal covenant frames it differently. It frames our calling, our vow to continue in the apostles teaching—those practices of living together in a world where all are fed and none are hungry, where we give up greed for wealth and power and distribute as each has need.

It frames our calling, our vow to respect the dignity of every human being. We live in a world, in a society that blames the poor for their poverty. People who have nowhere to go carry a tremendous burden of shame. A tremendous burden under a message of worthlessness and hopelessness. In my ministry, nothing has been more important than affirming people’s dignity and worth as children of God, all the beloved children proclaimed at Jesus’ baptism. The people who will come into your doors next month are people with gifts and wisdom to offer the church, perhaps more than you could ever imagine. Never forget, you will not serve them; you invite them to serve and share with you.

We are always called to join the poorest as they struggle for the kingdom. Last week, a guy in our Bible study, a man who has lost everything but his courage and his deep faith, said; “We are people—we might struggle with addiction, we might be homeless, but don’t forget that more and more Americans are just a paycheck away from the same situation. We all deserve dignity and respect.”    

This our baptismal covenant. That we walk together, brothers and sisters, housed and unhoused, the poor of the earth, into death. Into the minefields. As we turn away from the messages of our culture. As we struggle together for hope. As we struggle together for the kingdom. As we struggle together for dignity. As we struggle together to not only address the effects of poverty, but to end it.