Love Struggling with Violence
(Rutgers, February 21, 1999; 1st Sunday in Lent, Year A;
Ordination and Installation of Officers)
Genesis 2:15–17, 3:1–7 (OT, pp. 2, 3);
Matthew 3:13–17; 4:1–11 (NT, p. 3)
"Love, full and uncalculating,
struggling ever with violence, fierce and logical .…
The final vote of [our] spirit—
For what is it cast?"
These words from today's bulletin cover,
words of the great African-American preacher Howard Thurman—
these words complement
the account we've just heard in our Second Lesson,
the account of the confrontation between Jesus,
the embodiment of a love full and uncalculating,
and Satan, the personification
of a violence fierce yet often seemingly logical.
And Thurman's words together with the Gospel of Matthew's
account
set the framework for my sermon this morning.
For the First Sunday in Lent is an altogether appropriate time
to acknowledge and speak of a titanic struggle that's
being waged within both our selves and our society—
the titanic struggle between love and violence,
between Jesus and Satan.
I'm sure most of you remember Flip Wilson, a truly great comedian
(who, apropos of Black History Month, was African-American).
One of Flip's most hilarious characters was "Geraldine,"
and for me Geraldine's most memorable line was her refrain:
"The devil made me do it!"
I laughed—we laughed—whenever Geraldine used that expression
to duck personal responsibility for her "wicked" behavior.
As I reflect on it now, I believe we could laugh at Geraldine's excuse,
rather than cry over it,
precisely because modern, liberal-thinking Christians like us
tend not to believe in Satan.
So the idea that "the devil made me do it"
strikes us as being more absurd than terrifying.
But I need to tell you that since I last saw and heard Flip's Geraldine,
I've had a change in heart, and now I do believe in Satan.
I want to make it clear, however, that the Satan I believe in is
not
a horned, reddish sort of fellow running around with a pitchfork.
No, such an image of Satan strikes me as far too … tame.
The Satan I believe in is no mere person, however powerful,
but a more monstrous reality by far: Satan is, I believe, a force,
a superhuman, extrahuman, yet somehow less-than-divine force
that everywhere begets frustration, pain, death, and evil
and that spreads its despoliation of love and of beauty
beyond the reach of human control—
a force with which we could not begin to contend
were it not for the grace and power of God.
But God has called us to contend with this force
and has offered to equip us with the Holy Spirit for doing so,
and the First Sunday in Lent is as good a time as any
for us to declare which side we're on in this titanic struggle
between love and violence, between Jesus and Satan.
One of the most fearsome strategies employed against love
by the evil force we personify as Satan
is Satan's tactic of persuading us humans that
various acts of violence are appropriate and necessary.
To persuade us of this,
Satan uses a false kind of logic, one found in statements like these:
"It was necessary to bomb that pharmaceutical plant in Sudan
in order to prevent international terrorism"—
as if the bombing of a civilian plant
in a nation with whom we're not at war
is not itself an act of international terrorism.
Or another example: "It is necessary to bomb Iraq
in order to prevent violence in the Middle East"—
as if the bombing of Iraq
is not itself an act of violence in the Middle East.
Or a third, very recent, example, from here in our own city:
"It is necessary for the police to practice a policy of
'zero tolerance' in order to protect citizens"—
as if practicing a policy of "zero tolerance"
is not itself a violation of many of our citizens.
You see, whether in the matter of the military's dropping a bomb
on a far-away nation in Africa or the Middle East
or in the matter of the police's dropping a bomb of bullets
on a Muslim African in his home in the Bronx,
Satan urges us humans to use a false kind of logic
to cloak many of society's acts of violence
with a mantle of acceptability.
During Lent, we are called, like Jesus, to confront and face down
the power of the evil force that seeks to despoil all love and beauty.
During Lent, we are called to uncloak the disguises
that Satan uses to conceal from our eyes
much of the horror of human violence.
During Lent, we are called to cast the vote of our spirits
against violence, no matter how "logical" such may seem,
+ for a love, like Jesus's, that is full and uncalculating.
Last Monday afternoon at the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem,
the Council of Churches of the City of New York, joined by
representatives of the Jewish and Muslim communitites,
held a memorial service for Amadou Diallo, a service
in which I was invited to participate, since I serve as a
representative of the Council of Churches on the radio.
About 1,500 people were packed into the church.
In opening the service, the Reverend Dr. Calvin Butts,
who is both the Pastor of the Abyssinian Church
and the President of the Council of Churches,
read the names of Amadou Diallo
and some 30 other innocent persons—
Black, Latino, Asian, White—
innocent persons who have died in recent years
at the hands of New York City police officers.
Anticipating the Lenten theme of Jesus's confrontation with Satan,
Dr. Butts asserted that the situation of police violence in our city
is demonic and that overcoming this demonic situation will
require of us much prayer and fasting, prayer and fasting.
It was the Imam of the Mosque of Islamic Brotherhood
who went on in his remarks to emphasize the first of these two—
our need to tap the power of prayer to defeat the force of evil.
Then when I addressed the congregation, I emphasized
the second of these weapons against the demonic—fasting.
In doing so, I shared the Ash Wednesday reading from Isaiah
58:6, the words that God spoke through the prophet, saying:
"Is not this the fast that I desire:
to loose the bonds of injustice…?"
Using the call and response form typical of Black churches,
I + the congregation affirmed together that it is this kind of fast—
the concrete, positive action of loosing the bonds of injustice—
that God wants today from the Christian,
Muslim, and Jewish communities of New York City
and that God wants today
from the police officers and the mayor of New York City.
The Reverend Spencer Gibbs, our own Executive Presbyter,
proclaimed to the assembly that we're the people of God in this city,
and that the people of God must draw on the power of God
to engage in moral combat with those who embrace Satan.
Then the Reverend James Stallings,
Regional Minister for the American Baptist Church, gave the
congregation a plan of action for engaging in that moral combat.
1) Stop the denial:
stop denying that people are losing their lives in this city
even as others of us are feeling safer;
stop denying that profiling exists
and thinking that we can win at someone else's expense.
2) Tell the truth: tell the truth
that the mayor's safe-streets program applies only to some streets;
that speaking out when done by some communities is called a riot;
that African-Americans are considered "suspicious"
even in their own communities; and
that a number of law enforcement people simply are not "good."
3) Act for justice: act for justice
by going beyond talking to doing something
about police brutality
and about the creeping apartheid that is overtaking
our public school system and our public health care system.
I found last Monday's memorial service for Amadou Diallo formative
for my understanding of what God is requiring of me this Lent,
and I pray that many of you will find my report of that service
formative for your understanding of this Lent as well.
There is a titanic struggle going on in our city, nation, and
world—
the titanic struggle between love and violence,
between Jesus and Satan.
The season of Lent has everything to do with our becoming involved
in that ongoing confrontation between Jesus and Satan.
This Lent, God is challenging us to cast the vote of our spirits,
the vote of our prayer, of our fasting, of our actions.
For which side will we cast that vote?
For love, full and uncalculating,
or for violence, fierce but often seemingly logical?
For which side will we cast the vote of our spirits,
the vote of our prayer, of our fasting, of our actions?
For Jesus, or for Satan?
Let us pray:
O God, grant us wisdom, grant us courage, and grant us
the power of Your Holy Spirit for the facing of our struggle
with violence and for the living of our days of love.
Through Jesus Christ we pray it. Amen.
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