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"PRAYER IN A TIME OF NATIONAL CRISIS"Rev. Bob Olmstead September 16, 2001
"For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me." (Jeremiah 8:21) Like you, I watched in disbelief. It was on TV but it was real. Planes crashed. Buildings collapsed. People fled in terror. Long before airplanes, long before tall towers or modern technology, a Hebrew prophet saw what was happening to his nation. And Jeremiah said, For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. Comforting the children is hard because we need comforting ourselves. The images of planes turning into bombs and towers crumbling before our eyes are being replaced with the names and faces and stories of the people who died. For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. This morning we find ourselves caught between what has already happened and the unknown that lies ahead. I wish for something profound or eloquent to say. But words don't come. War in some form appears inevitable. One thing I know: it is never, ever, the task of the Church to give its blessing to war. Even when war is necessary, even if it is just, war is always an expression of our sin. Prayer in a time of war is always a prayer of confession. For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. I know all the right things to say out loud when called upon to pray. But I have some heart-wrenching prayers I do not dare to say out loud. "Where were You, God, in those moments when the planes were diving toward their final impact? Where were You, God, when people looked up from their desks to see death screaming toward them? I have called you ÎGracious God' in a thousand prayers; where was your grace and where is your graciousness? What should we call You now? Were you even watching?" When I shared those prayers with a few close friends one began to hum. For what it's worth, I share the song with you: [solo voice sings:
I've always sung that song assuming the "you" it speaks to is another person. "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" Today I hear it differently. I hear it as a prayer addressed to God. "Where You there when they crucified my Lord?" Well, of course! Yes, God was there. This week in Epworth United Methodist Church in Berkeley a long swath of black fabric is attached at the highest point in the sanctuary; the black cloth swoops down like an errant jet, crashes against the cross and falls behind the altar. My good friend is the pastor there. He says, "I will never look at the cross again without seeing the plane hitting the world trade center." In good times we prefer almost any theology to a theology of the cross and crucifixion. But that dark swoop of fabric crashing into the cross reminds us that evil can do its worst, but it is finally defeated. The cross absorbs and defeats evil. The cross is God's presence and God's triumph. That's where God is and that's where God meets us. I can't explain that for you. We have to sing it in our songs. You have to feel in your bones. Were you there . . . when they crucified my Lord? And do you remember what comes next? Three days later . . . Sandy Olewine is our United Methodist mission liaison in Jerusalem. She reminds us that the CNN images of people dancing in the streets are not representative of the Palestinian people. The dancers were a very few, but they were captured on film by CNN and magnified a thousand times in repeated showings. What a great disservice CNN has done. Pray for the Palestinians. Pray for the people of Afghanistan. Afghanistan has already been bombed back to the Stone Age. Russia did it 15 years ago. The Taliban will hide behind those poor people and use citizens as their shield. Pray for our leaders. Pray that they may have wisdom, and that they may find the narrow path between restraint and perseverance. Pray for those who were killed, wounded or maimed, and for their families and their loved ones. Pray for those called into emergency service, police and ambulance drivers, caregivers and passersby. Pray for the people and Government of the United States of America, and indeed of all nations, that those in authority might respond not out of vengeance but with wisdom, restraint, and reason. Pray for our military. They are human beings. Many will be placed in harm's way. Pray for the safety of the people we love. It is encouraging to hear Secretary of State Colin Powell ask for patience and admit that there is no quick fix and limits to what military power can accomplish. It will be a long and disheartening struggle. It is distressing to hear President Bush declare that we will "rid the world of evil". We are not going to rid the world of evil. That is too high a calling, even for America. Terrorists have been persuaded that we are evil and therefore can be killed at random. Let's not get into that kind of talk. It is sad to hear of reprisals against Muslims in this country. This is not a war against Islam; small groups of fundamentalists twist the words of the Koran into words of hate, justifying terrorism, just as small groups of fundamentalists twist the words of the Bible into hate, justifying the murder of abortion personnel or attacks on homosexuals. It is sickening to share a citizenship with Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson. They are beneath contempt for what they said this week. For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. A piece of graffiti these recent days says, "Let us remember all the lives lost and create an outcome worthy of their lives." Let us create an outcome . . . Jim, a longtime member of our church, has founded a company that produces videos that teach kids how to manage their anger and walk away from fights, resolve conflicts, and negotiate with each other on a win/win basis. It's called PYN -- Program for Young Negotiators. A teacher named Bobbe uses PYN in a New York School. She writes: "Long Island has really been affected with the terrorist attack. The children are scared and hurting. Some have lost relatives, and others wait to find out. We are using PYN assignments in all classes to open up communication. There is a rainbow in the cloud. The tone of our school is close and loving. This is what I see around me as well. God bless America." Thanks Jim! That's prayer in action. That's creating an outcome . . . I went to bed last night unable to find a satisfactory way to complete this sermon. That does not improve my sleep. In the middle of the night I got up and turned the computer back on. And there was my conclusion. Vicki had sent me an Email and it says just what I want to say. Last Sunday I preached a sermon about the Hymnal. It prompted Vicki to write this: I received my copy of the current United Methodist hymnal from my parents for my birthday in 1989. I had been practicing law in New York City for a little less than a year at the time and had not developed much of a relationship with a church since I had left Indiana. That hymnal was my connection to my faith. Sometimes, sitting alone in my apartment in Queens, I sang aloud from it. The following year, Tim and I used it to plan our wedding. Despite the fact that we were married in a horticultural park in Indiana a long way from any organ, the ceremony was studded with three hymns and a prayer from that hymnal. The congregation literally had to sing for its supper. And, we were grateful for the inclusiveness of the book·. After hearing your sermon last Sunday discussing the hymnal, I had intended to send you a note about the current role this favored book plays in our household. Then, the horrors of the week got in the way. However, tonight's anecdote is too pertinent to wait; so here it is. Knowing too few lullabies, or maybe just being easily bored, I started singing hymns to Hope at bedtime several years ago. The problem was that I would always get stuck at the same place every time through a given hymn--usually midway through the second verse. I would then skip to the words I remembered in the third verse, make up more words, or simply hum. Each time I would promise myself I would get out the hymnal and commit the missing words to memory before the next bedtime. Each time I forgot to follow through. Last year, Tim gave me a mini booklight so that he could get some sleep when I stay up reading. Finally it dawned on me that I could use the booklight with the hymnal to sing Hope to sleep without missing a verse! Hallelujah! And that is what I started to do. Hope enjoys this practice so much she often requests it on nights when I think that some secular tune will do. Apparently she does not limit this request to me. We came home the other night when Christina Bellardo was babysitting to find out that the two of them had spent much of the evening singing together from the hymnal. Tonight was no exception. After singing her the Lawrence Welk "Goodnight" song (I know, I know--but my parents are 80 and so I heard it a lot as a kid...), she said "Mom, would you please sing something from the hymnal?" While I was flipping through it, I told her I wanted to sing "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord". She said, "No, I don't want that one. Look some more." "How about 'Lord of the Dance?'" I asked. "Oh, yes," she said. After joining in when I got to the chorus, she settled in to go to sleep. She closed her eyes and rolled onto her side with a big smile on her face. At the end of the second verse, without opening her eyes and continuing to smile, she said, "I won't have any bad dreams tonight!" As I finished the last verse, I turned out the light and shut the hymnal that was resting on her bed. I hummed through the song one more time. When I got up and tried to pick up the hymnal, I felt resistance. I reached out again and felt a warm little hand wrapped snugly around the book. I left it there. Thank you Vicki! Lets all keep our hands wrapped snugly around the book. Let's keep on singing the songs. Songs of faith. Songs of hope. Songs of love. Let them shape us. Let them remind us that we are not alone. Let them be our prayers. And let our prayers becomes actions and our actions become prayers. Let us remember all the lives lost and create an outcome worthy of their lives. |