Readings

FIRST LESSON

The first lesson is One More River to Cross: Black & Gay in America by Keith Boykin

(Keith Boykin, a twentieth/twenty-first century Black gay man, writes poignantly about the experiences of being both Black and gay in the United States and about the intersections between the two. Here he reminds us that prejudice comes from the same root source, regardless of how it manifests itself over the centuries. Because of this, it is critical that we, as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender people and our allies of all colors, explore Black history and honor ourselves and others who are on this path to freedom.)

Traveling in a direct path from Cairo, Egypt, at the northern end of Africa, a thousand miles south to Khartoum, the capital of Sudan, it is possible to cross the Nile River four times. The river then snakes along various paths into Ethiopia and Uganda, stretching out for another three thousand miles from Khartoum. To some, these may seem to be many different rivers. Instead, they are all part of the same waterway, the world's longest river—the Nile.

Traveling through human history from the earliest tribal and ethnic warfare to the present, it is possible to cross a river many times. From the ethnocentrism of nationalism to the Anti-Semitism of the Inquisition to the racism of American slavery, the river breaks off into the tributaries of sexism, xenophobia, and homophobia. Some imagine these currents to be separate bodies of water, but they are all the same. They are all a part of the river called prejudice. Like the Nile, it is deceptive, taking on many different shapes, and it naturally appears different at various places along its vast expanse. At some points it is deep and wide and forbidding, while at other points it is not as intimidating. But all of us, black and white, straight and gay, must cross this river to survive.

SECOND LESSON

The second lesson is from the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 1, verse 40 through Chapter 2, verse 12

A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. After sternly warning the man, Jesus sent him away at once, saying, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” But the man went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” At once Jesus perceived in his spirit that they were discussing these questions among themselves; and said to them, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven’ or to say ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk’? But so that you may know that the Child of God has authority on earth to forgive sins—Jesus said to the paralytic—“I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.” And the man stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

This Week's Sermon

Date: SUNDAY, February 15, 2009

Title: Always Another River

Message Delivered By: Rev. Joe Mc Murray

In the Great Depression years of the 1930s, Mary Stevenson wrote a poem entitled, “Footprints in the Sand.” It was an inspirational poem – most of us have heard it or read it several times. Some of us may have it hanging on a wall or inside our wallet or purse.

The poem is a great reminder of the shortsightedness of humankind. It shows us how arrogant we can be with God when things go wrong in our lives. It illustrates, very poignantly, that it is God, not us, who has been present; it is God who has been faithful; it is God who has carried us when we claimed we felt alone or abandoned.

It is not clear if Mary Stevenson was compelled to write her poem because she was inspired by God; we’re not certain if she wrote it in reaction to events around her, or if it emanated from her own life experience. As Christians, we are often told that the Church fathers (and mothers) were inspired by God to write the Scriptures. We know many other inspirational writings never made it into the Scriptures because they were too challenging or did not fit the overall message trying to be conveyed.

Some claim the early forebears of both the Jewish and Christian traditions were simply reacting to their own experiences – and thus were not divinely inspired. Perhaps we shall never know.

But another discovery has been made in the caves of the Quumran community in Israel, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. These writings appear to be a much earlier version of “Footprints in the Sand” that inspired Mary Stevenson in the 1930s. It reads as follows:

One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious God,
But mine were not found on the sod.

But then some strange prints appeared,
And I asked God, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat,
"But God, they are too big for feet."
"My child," God said in somber tone,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
And I got tired, my patience cut,
So there I dropped you on your butt."

"Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand."

Perhaps—just perhaps—the early Christians changed their tune after taking Bible Study classes, where they studied the Old Testament texts on the Law and the Prophets and the days when God wasn’t in such a good mood. Please pray with me:
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Loving God, you are the one who inspires us day after day. You are the one that brings order and understanding to our chaotic world. In you we find comfort; in you we find solace; in you we find healing; and in you we find paths toward wholeness which make us more complete. We thank you, God, for these and all the gifts you have given us. And may my words and all of our thoughts be filled with honor and praise to you. Amen.
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There are two remarkable healing stories in today’s Scripture. Both have to do with marginalized people—the outcast of society—those who lived apart from others because of their malady: they were deemed unclean, undesirable, and unworthy.

One suffered from leprosy; the other from paralysis. Neither were productive to themselves or to society. They weren’t given a chance because even their appearance separated them from others. And anyone who was so obviously different was not allowed to gather with the mainstream. They could never fit in.

Now we could take time to dissect the Scripture line by line. We could analyze the word “leprosy" and its definition according to religious law and cultural practice. So doing, we would discover that any blemish, any disease of the skin, any part of the skin that was a different shade or color from another was considered leprosy, which rendered a person spiritually unclean.

Or we could talk about what it meant to be differently abled in the first century. We would discover that according to religious law and custom, any physical disability was a symptom of a spiritual infirmity. It was a sign of sinfulness committed by either the person or his parents or ancestors.

The punishment of such sinfulness could be, among other things, a visible affliction that rendered a person unable to perform the normal duties of a person as defined by the tradition and culture.

I’m sure you have probably been presented those teachings before.

But the other news in each of these stories, of course, is about transformation wherein lives were completely changed. But how did they change?

The man cured of leprosy was so overjoyed, he failed to obey Jesus’ command that he tell no one. Who would? How could he not tell the story of what happened to him? Surely people would notice. Those who used to see him begging in the streets might now find him looking for work to find his place in society. Surely they would ask how this miracle took place.

And the man who was cured from paralysis? We don’t even know what happened to him—only that he was healed and took his mat and went home.

Whatever you believe about these stories, about these or any of the Gospel stories, one thing about life is that whether we’re talking about leprosy or disability—there is always another river.

As part of our ongoing exploration of African-American spirituality, we heard, this morning, from Keith Boykin, that prejudice impedes the advancement of God’s mission for the world. He wrote that misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia—all our fears—will continue to stand in our way. These are the rivers that divide—the rivers we have yet to cross.

Boykin said we must challenge ourselves—we must continue crossing the rivers of division until all fear and ignorance are gone forever.
And what about the current tributaries of our lives? What about the rivers and streams we have yet to cross?

An article published by Reuters News Service reported that African American men and women continue to be disproportionately affected by HIV, though they account for only 12% of the population but account for nearly half of all new HIV infections, and almost half of all our citizens living with HIV.

I know our eyes tend to glaze over when statistics are quoted to us—but often there’s no better way to state the enormity of the situation.

In 2006, the CDC said more HIV infections occurred among young black men who have sex with men than in any other segment of the population. That same year, black women acquired new HIV infections at 15 times the rate of white women.

In Washington, DC, 1 in 20 residents is living with HIV - roughly the same proportion of people as in the sub-Saharan region of Africa.

1.1 million Americans live with HIV, but 20 percent do not know they are infected, increasing the odds they will infect others and may become ill without treatment.

Beginning treatment for HIV as early as possible after infection is essential. But with the stigma associated with AIDS, particularly in the African American community, this only worsens the situation. People refuse to be tested for fear of discovery and, just like our Scripture lesson, the risk of being alienated from society, no longer able to participate in the community.

Another river to cross.

About 2 weeks ago, I attended a community meeting hosted by both a City and County Commissioner regarding problems that have been reported at Higgs Beach between—well, lots of people. While the meeting did deal with some facts as well as some sensationalism, terms were being used to define homeless people, such as “they,” “them,”, and “vagrants.”

Now, I know that as soon as I say the word “homeless,” it is likely that I will lose at least a few of you, and perhaps your eyes will roll, or you’ll think, “Not this again.” Bur for all our sakes, I hope you will remain open to hearing me today.

This past Wednesday, I had an opportunity to meet Father Steve Braddock from the Florida Keys Outreach Coalition for the Homeless. He gave me a tour of the FKOC program facility as well as KOTS and other transitional and permanent housing in Key West.

Homelessness is unique to each community impacted by it. Key West is no different. The statistics here are very real. Among the homeless in Key West,
80% are unemployed; 20% suffer from domestic abuse; 25% are mentally ill; 23% are veterans; 87% have issues with alcoholism or substance abuse; 25% are ex-offenders; 15% have HIV/AIDS; and 23% are children.

23% of the homeless are children. Our children.

There was another meeting of the working group for Higgs Beach on Friday, and from what I understand, the language was more respectful and there are many sides interested in finding a solution to the problem there.

But my feelings about this issue—which I know is a very volatile one here, as it is everywhere—are that no one deserves to go hungry; and the solution to homelessness will not be found by dealing with homeless populations from one neighborhood to the next.

Homelessness can only be addressed as an overarching issue that deals with the cause—and can only be treated with solutions that deal directly with those causes.

Always another river.

We as Christians, we as followers of the teachings of Christ, we as a community that has been, at some points in our history, part of a marginalized people—we must always remember two things:

Jesus said, “The poor you shall have with you always.” And the other is: there will always be another river to cross; another phobia to overcome; another marginalized person to include. No matter what we do, this will always be true. But it doesn’t mean we stop trying to find the answers.

Finding the answers is part of who we are. Finding solutions is part of what we do in God’s name.

May God bless us in our work. Amen.