{"id":1142,"date":"2015-06-21T11:00:40","date_gmt":"2015-06-21T15:00:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/?p=1142"},"modified":"2019-10-22T11:56:33","modified_gmt":"2019-10-22T15:56:33","slug":"still-point","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/2015\/06\/21\/still-point\/","title":{"rendered":"Still Point"},"content":{"rendered":"

Click here to listen to the full service<\/a><\/p>\n

Mark 4: 35-41<\/a><\/p>\n

Click here to listen to the sermon only<\/a><\/p>\n

As we gather in worship this morning, along with countless others in countless churches across the country and beyond, our hearts and minds are brooding over the tragic slayings in Charleston, what Cornell William Brooks, President of the NAACP, who spoke from this pulpit one month ago, has aptly called \u2018racist terrorism\u2019. \u00a0\u00a0We think of these nine lost lives. \u00a0We lift them and their families in prayer. \u00a0We lift their AME church, and the AME connection itself, in prayer. \u00a0\u00a0We wonder just how to say something that is both honest and hopeful, both hopeful and honest. \u00a0Honesty about the storm. \u00a0Hope in the Still Point who is \u2018the Teacher\u2019, our Lord.<\/p>\n

Others have done so before. \u00a0In Rome, about 70ad, a preacher, it may be, stood before a small group of men and women, gathered in a home or courtyard. \u00a0Though varied in aspect, they who gathered were similar, for they came from various margins, the margins of life. \u00a0Some were women. \u00a0Some were Jews. \u00a0Some were slaves and former slaves. \u00a0\u00a0Some were rich, but most poor. \u00a0Some were educated, but most not. \u00a0They shared Jesus Christ, crucified. \u00a0They shared Jesus Christ, risen. \u00a0Together they had already been seized by an allegiance to him, the still point in a turning world. \u00a0They were walking in faith. \u00a0As we are. \u00a0But they were alarmed, angered, frightened and saddened. \u00a0As we are today. \u00a0They were haunted, perhaps by the memory of the Emperor Nero, who famously fiddled as Rome burned, but who found time for an Empire wide persecution of those on the margins, including the early Christians, and if legend serves, including to martyrdom both Peter and Paul. \u00a0We are not haunted by Nero. \u00a0We are though haunted by months and years and memories of violence, racism, terrorism, gun culture and untimely death.<\/p>\n

In this borrowed upper room or small courtyard, it may be, the preacher acclaimed Jesus, whose word is Peace and whose voice says Be Still. \u00a0The raised crucified, the still point in a churning world. \u00a0The preacher, perhaps, \u00a0remembered from of old and from afar, his days on the Syrian sea, Tiberias, the Sea of Galilee. \u00a0He imagined in his sermon a night scene. \u00a0He offered in stylized memory an account of a boating mishap. \u00a0Some recollection of the book of Jonah may have stirred him. \u00a0The preacher looked straight into the hurt and heart of his storm tossed church, if you can use that word for that gathering at that time. \u00a0He could see their fear of drowning, of perishing. \u00a0He painted into his story portrait other \u2018boats\u2019, boats always a symbol of the church. \u00a0He told of Jesus sleeping. \u00a0He fixed his hearers\u2019 anger and sadness right in the belly of the whale of the sermon: \u2018we are perishing\u2019, they cried. \u00a0We know that cry, that crie de cour.<\/i> \u00a0Then he stood solemnly. \u00a0\u00a0Facing all storms, offering in a prophetic spirit the very voice of Christ, he said, \u2018Be still\u2019. \u00a0And the sermon ended. \u00a0And there was a fullness. \u00a0And there was a dead calm. \u00a0A word had been spoken and heard, in resurrection time and space. \u00a0Around the Still Point, they paused, in silence.<\/p>\n

Jesus meets us today right in the teeth of the gale, in the heart of the storm. \u00a0\u00a0He speaks to us the eternal word. \u00a0Peace. \u00a0He speaks to us the saving word. \u00a0Be Still. \u00a0He is the still point in the turning, churning world.<\/p>\n

Eliot: \u00a0\u2018At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;<\/i><\/p>\n

Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n

His is a timely word, a fit word, a word fitly spoken, for us. \u00a0For \u00a0we are a people drenched in sorrow, anger, worry, and exasperation. \u00a0The boat is heaving from side to side, stem to stern, port to starboard. \u00a0\u00a0Newtown, Marathon, Ferguson, Staten Island, Baltimore, North Charleston, and McKinley. \u00a0And now this Charleston church killing, this unspeakable horror, this malevolent mixture of guns and illness and ideology and racism.<\/p>\n

This one verse in our Gospel today that we have no problem understanding is the angry cry of Jesus\u2019 frightened fellow travelers: Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?<\/i><\/p>\n

Here we are. \u00a0The storm is raging. \u00a0The winds are blowing. \u00a0The waves are swamping our little ship. \u00a0The raging tide of racism. \u00a0The towering undulation of gun availablity. \u00a0The windstorm of violence pressing upon us from all sides. \u00a0We get this today.<\/p>\n

Like the little Roman church addressed in today\u2019s Gospel, for whom the lakeside story, the nature imagery, the threat of drowning, the savior\u2019s voice, the mysterious and miraculous heeded command, Be Still, were offered in the soulful, caring preaching of the early pastor, if one can use that title, we too dread drowning.<\/p>\n

We dread drowning in a sea of guns. \u00a0We dread drowning in a tide of deeply embedded, persistent, perduring, encultured racism. \u00a0We dread drowning in a great windstorm, with waves beating upon us, and the boat half swamped as it is. \u00a0After a week like this, it is hard to know what to say, if we truly want to be both honest and hopeful.<\/p>\n

For these nine dear Methodist souls in Charleston, praying in church, died because of a persistent, pervasive racism that covers this land like a flood tide. \u00a0They died because of a sea of guns, available to anyone, well or ill, well intended or ill intended, at any time, without any consequence, financial consequence, to the seller, the procurer, those who profit. \u00a0These nine died because of an ongoing ignorance about the pervasive continuing impacts of chattel slavery 150 years ago, impacts measurable in economic, social, educational and civic life. \u00a0These nine died because of a fiercely advocated and heavily funded broad agenda to privilege states rights over human rights, gun ownership over human survival, and individual freedom over the common good.<\/p>\n

Charles Pierce wrote honestly this week:<\/p>\n

What happened in <\/i>a church in Charleston, South Carolina<\/i><\/a> on Wednesday night is a lot of things, but one thing it’s not is “unthinkable.” Somebody thought long and hard about it. Somebody thought to load the weapon. Somebody thought to pick the church. Somebody thought to sit, quietly, through some of Wednesday night bible study. Somebody thought to stand up and open fire, killing nine people, including the pastor. Somebody reportedly thought to leave one woman alive so she could tell his story to the world. Somebody thought enough to flee. What happened in that church was a lot of things, but unthinkable is not one of them.<\/i><\/p>\n

What happened in a Charleston church on Wednesday night is a lot of things, but one thing it’s not is “unspeakable.” We should speak of it often. We should speak of it loudly. We should speak of it as terrorism, which is what it was. We should speak of it as racial violence, which is what it was.<\/i><\/p>\n

We should speak of it as an attack on history, which it was. This was the church founded by <\/i>Denmark Vesey, who planned a slave revolt in 1822.<\/i><\/a> Vesey was convicted in a secret trial in which many of the witnesses testified after being tortured. After they hung him, a mob burned down the church he built. His sons rebuilt it. On Wednesday night, someone turned it into a slaughter pen.<\/i><\/p>\n

Yes, at least this one verse in our Gospel today that we have no problem understanding, the angry cry of Jesus\u2019 frightened fellow travelers: Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?<\/i><\/p>\n

But the gospel does not end there. \u00a0Maybe it would be easier if it did. The Scripture brings us both honesty and hope. \u00a0The hope is harder to hear and to live. \u00a0The hope requires of us ears and minds to discipline ourselves, to prepare ourselves with a spiritual discipline against resentment, to train ourselves for the long distance run, to hope against, for hope that is seen is not hope. \u00a0Who hopes for what he sees? \u00a0We hope for what we do not see.<\/p>\n

In the ancient sermon, in Rome, in 70ad, a still voice, a voice to still the storm was heard. \u00a0Can we hear that voice this morning? \u00a0\u00a0Can we hear a rumor of angels? \u00a0Can we at least hear that none of this historical tragedy is inevitable? \u00a0It is not inevitable. \u00a0Because it is not, it can be changed, changed for the better, changed in the future. \u00a0You can lend your voice to that of the man who stilled the water, to that of the man who calmed the sea. \u00a0You can make a difference.<\/p>\n

You can continue to pray, to vote and to act.<\/p>\n

By pray I do mean daily meditation, including the shouting, actual or metaphorical, of lament in the face of horrific evil. \u00a0But I also mean the intentional gathering, come Sunday, with others who seek a measure of meaning, belonging and empowerment. \u00a0You can do this. \u00a0One of our members, a native of Charleston, asked to read a lesson today, which he did. \u00a0You can engage and support others. \u00a0You need the pew fellowship, the breathing community of different others. \u00a0If week by week you only regularly see family, co-workers, or those who share your own interests, you will not meet with difference, which you need in order to grow, and which this great land, full of latent goodness, needs in practice and for practice. \u00a0But in the pew you have every prospect of meeting with others who are not relatives, not employees or employers, and not inclined to your own particular enjoyments. \u00a0Not your mom, not your boss, and not your golf partner. \u00a0Others–who are other. \u00a0Somehow as a people we think that we can muster the will to address communal issues on the grand scale, when so often our communal orbits of relationship are with people who are like us, are like ourselves. \u00a0This is like desiring to recite Shakespeare without knowing the alphabet, or diving into the Calculus without mastering multiplication tables, or running a marathon without first jogging two miles. \u00a0This summer our preaching series considers Martin Luther King\u2019s \u2018beloved community\u2019. \u00a0But to stretch toward that Johannine, Roycean, and Kingly vision, we have to start by sitting for an hour near people who are other than we, in the presence of God.<\/p>\n

King: \u00a0“The end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the Beloved Community. It is this type of spirit and this type of love that can transform opponents into friends. It is this type of understanding goodwill that will transform the deep gloom of the old age into the exuberant gladness of the new age. It is this love which will bring about miracles in the hearts of men.”<\/p>\n

By vote I do mean election-day ballots. \u00a0One of our BU administrative leaders here, when asked at year end what advice she might have for graduates of 2015 said, simply, \u2018vote\u2019. \u00a0Yes, go to the polls. \u00a0But I also mean the direct engagement with elected officials and others over time that makes a difference. \u00a0Personal engagement. \u00a0Susan, one of our most beloved and vivacious friends here in Boston died suddenly of cancer four years ago. \u00a0How we miss her. \u00a0One day we were walking together on the Esplanade. \u00a0We were talking about gun violence. \u00a0In the middle of the talk, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her congressman. \u00a0She said, in her usual spirited voice: \u00a0\u2018They know me there. \u00a0I have them on speed dial\u2019. \u00a0She poured out the contents of our conversation to some staff person. \u00a0Well that may not be your style, or mine, but it was hers, and she voted every day with her time, her energy, and her money. \u00a0She was a great person. \u00a0We need to be speaking and listening, in person, by voice, to and with one another, to a degree well and far beyond what we are doing now.<\/p>\n

By act I do mean doing something, within your sphere of influence. \u00a0Several gathered here on Marsh Plaza for a vigil on Friday noon. \u00a0Others attended other events. \u00a0A pastor gathered a multi faith service in Medford last night. \u00a0There is another at Charles Street tonight. You may have decided to attend an AME church one Sunday this summer, to be present, to be in communion. \u00a0Good. \u00a0Tell them Dean Hill sent you. \u00a0So, let us find ways to act. \u00a0There is a danger of freezing in the face of seemingly intractable difficulties, in the face of seemingly endless unsolvable contentions.<\/p>\n

You can recite the litany. \u00a0300 million guns there are across the land. \u00a0The top 20% send 84% of their children to college. \u00a0The bottom 20% send 8%. \u00a0The average asset value of the majority household in this country is $110,000(car, house, savings). \u00a0The average asset value of the minority household is $9,000. The number and percentage of young men of color imprisoned, at all levels, is itself a crime. \u00a0The agenda of individual rights, like gun possession, and states rights, like denial of health care, has seized control of state house after state house across the middle of the country. \u00a0Look sometime at a photo page of elected officials in Kansas. \u00a0Yes. \u00a0Yes. \u00a0I know. \u00a0These and other facts of the present can freeze us, if we are not careful. \u00a0But you know, life is full of change, even surprising change. \u00a0In her late 80\u2019s my grandmother had a sign up on her kitchen door. \u00a0It read: \u00a0\u2018Do one thing. \u00a0There. \u00a0You have done one thing.\u2019 \u00a0I have a voice, and I will use my voice. \u00a0You do too. \u00a0Use it.<\/p>\n

You can continue to pray, to vote and to act.<\/p>\n

A couple of weeks ago a woman in our community sent me a prayer. \u00a0Prayer is much on my mind, just now, as a form of action as well as contemplation. \u00a0\u00a0It gives me some measure of hope to have received this prayer. \u00a0I asked permission to use it, with attribution, and with its honesty and hope we conclude. \u00a0Here is Terry Baurley\u2019s prayer:<\/p>\n

Adonai, we pray that all may come to the understanding that one person\u2019s grief is a shared experience that we will all face, one person\u2019s love is a love that all will someday experience, one person\u2019s exclusion or shunning is one that we all hope never to experience. One person\u2019s success does not in any way diminish us. Friendship with someone new does not change the friendships that are already part of us. A person being praised and appreciated does not mean that we are not, it is just not your turn, or that there are reasons why they needed those words more at that moment. Consequences of actions born of love have a way of transforming who we are. Until each human being realizes that inflicting harm to another either intentionally or unintentionally or participates in such group dynamics that do, we will not have peace on this earth. Yet when a whispered prayer reaches out to you Adonai, and you reach back to us. We have reached the center where we know that we are loved, and nothing on heaven or earth can change that. In the name of Jesus Christ we pray. (TERRY BAURLEY)<\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

-The Rev. Dr. Robert Allan Hill, Dean of Marsh Chapel<\/a><\/p>\n

For more information about Marsh Chapel at Boston University,\u00a0click here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

For information about donating to the Chapel,\u00a0click here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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Click here to listen to the full service Mark 4: 35-41 Click here to listen to the sermon only As we gather in worship this morning, along with countless others in countless churches across the country and beyond, our hearts and minds are brooding over the tragic slayings in Charleston, what Cornell William Brooks, President […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2679,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[22],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1142"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2679"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1142"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1142\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1150,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1142\/revisions\/1150"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1142"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1142"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1142"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}