Monday, November 25, 2019

"Crazy for Castanets"

Homily for the Feast of Christ the King  24 November 2019
St John’s Episcopal Church, Gloucester, Massachusetts
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Guest Celebrant and Preacher
And the people stood by, watching.  Luke 23:35a
Sometimes, you’ve got no choice. Ask Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse in “Singin’ in the Rain.” Sometimes you “g-o-o-o-o-tta dance.”
Proof? I’m not sure Teresa of Ávila could hold a candle to Cyd Charisse, but one gray day in the bone-chilling cold of her unheated convent — during the one hour she allowed the sisters to gather for recreation — Teresa shocked the life out of every last one of them.
Without introduction, without warning, without so much as a “5-6-7-8,” Teresa leaps to her feet, grabs her castanets from the far reaches of her habit, and launches into a “Dancing with the Stars”-worthy flamenco.
The look on the other nuns’ faces? “Well, that was unexpected!” Teresa’s defense? “Some days, you’ve got to do something to make life bearable!”
“You’ve got to do something. Someone has got to do something … to make life bearable!” Certainly, that was on the minds of those who eye-witnessed Jesus — victimized Jesus — being led to Jerusalem’s “killing field,” nailed to the cross, and hoisted high for maximum and prolonged murderous effect.
Given the injustice of the whole affair, who among us, looking on, wouldn’t be thinking, “Someone has got to do something”? That someone being God. Surely God would intervene. God would have to do something.
But that “something” did not materialize that day. And — that day — hard reality prevailed. The power of the State was just too strong for ordinary people — paralyzed by grief, shock, and despair — to mount organized resistance.
Result? Luke tells us: “The people stood by, watching.”
And we’re now caught in a similar, standing-by, watching moment. What are we standing-by, watching?
Newly-released data: A record number of migrant children held in US government custody over the past 12 months: 69,550. Enough infants, toddlers, kids, and teens to overflow the typical NFL stadium, putting each of those children at risk of long-term physical and emotional damage. A hate crime by any measure.
Other hate crimes: According to a report released by the FBI two weeks ago, an alarming 12 percent uptick in hate crimes involving violence for 2018. Driving the surge? Domestic terrorism linked to white supremacist activity.
Digging deeper:
A nearly 14 percent increase in hate crimes against Latinos in 2018.
An 18 percent increase in anti-LGBTQ hate crimes.
27 percent of all hate crimes in 2018 — the largest share among all categories — motivated by anti-black bias.
And, given base-baiting, extremist rhetoric from the highest office in the land, it’s not surprising that reported hate crimes motivated by religious bias accounted for 20 percent. Of those incidents, the lion’s share — 57.8 percent — were anti-Jewish, with anti-Islamic (anti-Muslim) a distant — but no less troubling — 14.5 percent.
Looking at these numbers — and the upward trajectory of these numbers — is it unreasonable for our Jewish and Muslim neighbors, for immigrants, women, and LGBTQ persons to suspect that in the next 12 months conditions — for them — for many of us — may become unbearable?
Leading us to side with Teresa of Ávila: “Some days, you’ve got to do something to make life bearable.”
Or, as Elie Wiesel said (and he knew a thing or two about standing up for a victimized neighbor): “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”
Supporting factoid: Neutrality was never Jesus’ strong suit. Jesus took sides. Jesus’ project was a study in dissent. Nonviolent dissent … with the exception of his attack against exploitation by the religious-political apparatus, when he targeted the moneychangers in the Temple. Yes, three words come to mind: Out. Of. Control. But, it could be argued that was more street theater than a cruisin’-for-a-bruisin’ riot.
Pushing us to conclude: As followers of Jesus — Jesus, who relentlessly advocated for the rights of our neighbors — we have no other option than to resist. We have no other option than to resist nonviolently when our neighbors’ well-being, freedom, and rights are threatened. Standing by and watching is not an option now because when we sing “Lift every voice and sing till earth and heaven ring, ring with the harmonies of liberty,” we ain’t just whistlin’ “Dixie”!
Read: Against those who are turning bigotry into action, for followers of Jesus, activism is the answer.
Now, we don’t have castanets (or my hunch is most of us don’t). But we do have awareness, frustration, anger … and opportunity. What then, will we do? What will you do?
Well, where can you push back — in real time — in the moment — to overcome bigotry, racism, misogyny, and homophobia?
This Thursday is Thanksgiving, but it always applies: When a bloviating uncle (or whoever) — in the throes of alcoholic euphoria — makes degrading comments about a minority or women (like profiles-in-courage Marie Yovanovitch and Fiona Hill), push back … with respect, but firmly. Don’t let the swipe slide. Call it what it is: racism, sexism, homophobia, anti-Semitism, anti-Muslim bigotry … whatever fits. Name it. Name where you stand — and this is key — as a follower of Jesus. Do something!
But if that sounds like a bridge too far — maybe you’re afraid of curdling the gravy, I dunno —  here’s another way to frame it … from the lips of Jesus, who said famously: “Just as you did it — gave me food when I was hungry … something to drink when I was thirsty … gave me clothing when I was naked … took care of me when I was sick … visited me when I was incarcerated — just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
Consider, then, a member of Jesus’ family — a neighbor — who might say:
I’m an illegal immigrant. ICE agents tell me they’re going to tear me away from my children, who were born here. They’re Dreamers. Is this what it means to “Make America Great Again”? I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.
Or: I’m a Muslim-American woman in Walmart. Someone is shouting, “Go back to where you came from.” I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.
I’m a transgender person. My neighbors throw rocks at my house as they drive by at night: “Freak, we don’t want your kind here.” I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.
I’m a parent worried that each day I send my child off to school, she’ll become another statistic in this country’s fevered obsession with guns-guns-guns. I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.
Each and every one a neighbor pleading with us not to stand by and watch … but to do something … neither hedging nor passing the buck … but in very real, generous and daring and brave ways … in real time … making things good-better-best for real people.
… because Captain Jean-Luc Picard and the crew of the Starship Enterprise got it right and proved the Borg wrong: Resistance isn’t futile.
Bottomline: Lobby. Cajole. Blog. Tweet. Stand up. Speak out. Push back. Donate. Vote. Resist. Resist. Resist. Do something to make life bearable!
Amen.