Marie Alford-Harkey, M.Div. Sermon
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Sermon for Easter 4B; April 26, 2015
Acts 4:5-12, 1 John 3:16-24, John 10:11-18
Marie Alford-Harkey, M.Div.
Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford CT
My friend Sharon who helped plan an interfaith worship service about marriage equality that will take place tonight in Washington DC, wrote about why that was important to her. She says that we have “to seize the awesome opportunity of creating a Holy moment in the political calendar… we as a people also need faith rituals … that ground us in our connectedness and provide us a moral compass for our collective mandate to make the world a better place. We need opportunities to intentionally realign our justice work to the sacred; to commit again and again and again to live our lives in such a way that justice radiates out from what is most Holy.”
This weekend, in this worship service, we’re taking the time to recognize some important justice work. Trinity is taking part in the YWCA’s Stand Against Racism weekend and in the National Weekend of Prayer for the Freedom to Marry.
These aren’t easy subjects to address in church. Talking about racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, and all forms of oppression is not generally comfortable. People are likely to disagree, say things that hurt each other, or offend someone. That’s why I’m so grateful for this community. Here at Trinity, we try not to take the easy way out. We’ve had conversations right here in this sanctuary about racism and how it affects members of our community and the wider community.
And from the pulpit we hear preachers (not just George and me) speak out in favor of equal rights for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people. Honestly, there is nowhere that these conversations belong more than in the church. When we speak these prophetic words from our pulpits and in our prayers, we claim the boldness that we have been given in the Holy Spirit.
Jesus’ ministry taught the disciples how to do this. As their shepherd, over and over and over again, he taught them through parables, he performed miracles, and he loved them and treated them as friends. They did indeed know his voice, for they had heard it and followed it for three solid years.
That doesn’t meant that the disciples always got things right. They didn’t start off performing healing miracles and standing up to religious leaders. On the contrary, the apostles that we meet in Acts are the same disciples whom Jesus called “ye of little faith.” The same ones who couldn’t stay awake in the garden. Peter is the same guy who proclaimed three times “I did not know the man.” These are the same disciples who were cowering, afraid, in a locked room when the women came to tell them that Jesus wasn’t in the tomb. And even after Peter saw the empty tomb for himself, the gospel of John tells us that “the doors were locked in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Temple authorities.” These were some scared disciples in the gospels, my friends.
But here, in Acts, in Jerusalem, we see Peter standing up to those same Temple authorities. The very authorities who handed Jesus over to the state to be put to death – Annas and Caiaphas – are the ones who have now arrested Peter. And when he’s asked, “By what power and in whose name have you done this?”
Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, responds with authority, and clarity. He proclaims boldly, “Rulers of the people and elders, if we are questioned today because of a good deed done to someone who was sick and are asked how this man has been healed, let it be known to all of you, and to all the people of Israel, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead. This Jesus is `the stone that was rejected by you, the builders; it has become the cornerstone.' There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved."
This does not sound like a guy who’s afraid.
When I imagine Peter in that moment, I picture him a lot like Rev. Osagyefo Sekou, spoke at the Moral Monday black lives matter protest here in Hartford back in February. He’s a black Pentecostal preacher, author, and activist from St. Louis, Missouri who’s been on the front lines of the black lives matter movement organizing clergy in Ferguson, Missouri. Now this is a person who speaks with some holy boldness.
Reverend Sekou said that if we understand Jesus as someone born to an unwed teenage mother in an unimportant country in an unimportant part of the world…we understand that Jesus is in the streets of Ferguson.
He says that every time young activists stand in the streets and refuse to bow down, every time someone refuses to live in a closet, this is resurrection. He says that the blood of Michael Brown might be our salvation because it has inspired the black lives matter movement and it is a movement led by young people and black people and LGBTQ people and women.
And I am certainly not doing him justice. The man was on FIRE. He was brilliant and inspiring. I could have listened to him for an hour, but he only spoke for about 5 minutes. When he was done, I was ready to go out and protest.
Most of us are not Peters or Rev. Sekou’s. But -- have you ever had that moment when you weren’t prepared to speak, but you were so passionate about a subject that the words just poured out of you? I’ve heard many of you speak passionately about the things that matter to you. That passion that animates us, that passion that stirs us to eloquent, holy, prophetic speech doesn’t come without some work.
I have always been passionate about a lot of things. (I know you’re all shocked to hear this.) And these days, I can speak about some of them at the drop of a hat. But that didn’t happen without preparation. Before I was a teacher, before I was part of a teacher’s union, I could not have spoken with authority about how teacher evaluations should never be tied to test scores. Before I went to seminary and began to do the work of examining my white privilege, I could not have spoken with conviction about racist systems and my role in them. Before I became an LGBTQ activist and was mentored by my forbears in the movement, I could not have spoken with passion about marriage equality or the marginalization of transgender and bisexual people.
Just like the disciples, I had to learn my way. I had to spend time with people who knew the work so that I would eventually be as prepared as I could be to carry it on. So that I could have a moment of eloquence once in a while. And while I don’t know this for sure, I’m willing to bet that’s true for Rev. Sekou as well.
In Luke chapter 12, Jesus promises the disciples that “when they bring you before the rulers, the authorities, the synagogues, don’t worry about what you will say. The Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment all that you need to say.” But it’s not magic. Jesus spent his entire ministry getting the disciples ready to hear what the Holy Spirit would teach them in those moments.
Peter went from being a scared disciple to a prophetic apostle because of the Holy Spirit. And despite the years of preparation that got him to that moment before Annas, Caiaphas and the other high priests, I’m sure he was scared. After all, he didn’t have a great track record yet. And I’m sure that even as he was speaking, he was questioning the wisdom of angering high powered religious leaders.
But the Holy Spirit showed up for Peter, just as Jesus had promised. And in that moment, Peter proclaimed his truth with boldness and confidence. We are prepared as well, by being in this community, by following Jesus in our daily lives and work, by listening to the wise and wonderful people around us. May we all be bold enough to trust the Holy Spirit to show up to counter our fear and give us Holy, prophetic words whenever we need them. Amen.