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Remembering Pain
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
September 8, 2002
St. John United Methodist Church
David Beckett, D.Min.
Do you remember where you were on December 7, 1941? Do you remember what you were doing on November 22, 1963? Do you remember where you were the morning of September 11 of last year? A man from South Dakota remembers. My daughter was to report news items to her eighth grade class each day for a week. I usually don't watch morning television, but I remembered her assignment. What I saw was one of the World Trade Center Towers with billowing smoke coming from it's upper stories. It was hard to imagine what was happening. It was even more difficult to comprehend the second plane disappearing into the other tower. My mind could barely conceive what my eyes saw. A simple eighth grade news report, now reporting a new world born September 11, 2001. Remembrance is essential on this first anniversary of September 11, but Christians should not gather simply to recollect the horror of the terrorist attacks in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania. In the fullness of our faith, remembrance brings an event from the past into the present, and recalls it in such a way that it transforms the future. How we remember a painful event can either move us towards the light of Christ, or it can keep us locked up in darkness. As we experience the first anniversary of the terrorist attacks this week we need to remember and to pledge to one another that we will never forget. But as Christians, we do not gather to remember in the sense of simply recollecting an important event from the past. No, our approach is different, and it is deeply and distinctly rooted in the biblical idea of remembrance - the approach that Jesus took when he said, "Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19). In the Christian faith, remembrance brings an event from the past into the present - it recalls an event in such a way that it has a powerful effect on the here and now.
Think of communion, the meal that reminds us of the gruesome, gory death of the Son of God, the tragic breaking of his body and the spilling of his blood, not in a metal tower but on a wooden cross. When we remember Jesus at his table, we believe that he is present with us now, present in a powerful way, transforming our todays and our tomorrows. Something similar should be happening right now. As we remember September 11, we should be focusing on how the events of last year can shape this year, and how our memory of the past can transform our vision of the future. This process begins with identification: deep, personal identification. What did you feel last September 11 as you watched the horror unfolding on TV? Even if we had no immediate connection to those events, we felt a deep kinship with those who did: They were our brothers and sisters. And most of us have at one time or another experienced loss, pain and wounding. We know what it's like when the heart is bleeding.
Let us take a moment to remember right now as we proclaim this litany.
Pastor: When we remember the stockbrokers and window-washers who worked together so valiantly and helped each other to escape, we can say together,
People: We remember your courage.
Pastor: When we remember the firefighters who rushed upstairs as everyone else was racing down, we can say together,
People: We remember the risks you took.
Pastor: When we remember the police officers who performed their duties until the towers came crashing down on top of them, we can say together,
People: We remember your unselfish regard for the safety of others.
Pastor: When we remember the thousands of workers, men and women, young and old, married and single, American and international, who could not escape the buildings, we can say together,
People: We grieve over the loss of life.
Pastor: When we remember the citizens who rushed to the scene and did whatever they could to help, we can say together,
People: We remember and thank you for your unselfish commitment.
Pastor: When we remember the people who poured into blood banks to make donations, we can say together,
People: We thank you for your compassion.
Pastor: When we remember the millions of Americans who gave so generously to funds designed to help survivors and their families, we can say together,
People: We are grateful for your generosity.
Remembrance begins with personal identification. It begins with remembering the affliction of our brothers and sisters, and making their pain our own. We cannot take all of their pain, but we can feel part of it with them.
There is a powerful biblical precedent for doing this. In today's Scripture passage from Deuteronomy, the Israelites are given specific instructions on how they are to make offerings to God in the promised land. When future generations present a portion of their harvest to the priest, they are to remember and recite the story of how they were given their land.
"A wandering Aramean was my ancestor," they say. They begin by identifying themselves with Jacob, the vulnerable, destitute ancestor who had sought refuge from famine in the land of Egypt. Then they tell his story, remembering that "he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous" (Deuteronomy 26:5).
So far, so good. But now it gets really interesting. The Israelites go on to say, "When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors" (vv. 6-7). Notice the shift: The people say, "When the Egyptians treated US harshly and afflicted US, by imposing hard labor on US." The Israelites are not talking about Jacob anymore, they are talking about themselves. Even though none of these residents of the promised land experienced any of this affliction themselves, they remember it, and when they remember it, they make the pain of their ancestors their own. By remembering, they bring an event from the past into the present, and they do it in such a way that it has a powerful effect on the here and now.
They are saying, "I, too, am a slave in Egypt," much like the students in the aftermath of the Columbine shooting, said, "I am Columbine." Whenever we begin with a deep and personal identification, we remember the past in a way that transforms the present and the future. The Israelites are being challenged to remember their affliction, just as we are doing today. And when they do, they discover that they are not alone in their pain and suffering. No, they report that when they cried to the Lord, "the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders" (vv. 7-8).
The people of God are never alone in their affliction. Not in ancient Israel. Not in the United States today. When God's people cry to the Lord, he hears their voice and delivers them with a mighty hand. This is the first lesson of September 11, a lesson for today and for tomorrow: There is nothing that can destroy us as long as we put our faith in God.
Sure, we can be treated harshly and afflicted. We can be attacked by planes in the sky and anthrax in the mail. We can suffer the deaths of thousands of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters. But when we cry to the Lord, God hears and God responds. This is a rock-solid, foundational truth, dating back at least to the affliction of our ancestors in Egypt. It is so important for us to remember this, and by remembering it to make it real and active in our daily lives.
Notice, too, that the Israelites are challenged to recall that it was God who brought them into the Promised Land. Their land has come to them as a gift, and they are to treasure it and care for it and protect it as though it were a precious inheritance. The very same is true for us, as we reflect on the condition of our nation today. Are we treating it as a valuable gift, or are we taking it for granted? Are we treasuring it, or are we abusing it? Are we caring for it, or are we neglecting it?
This is the second lesson of September 11, for the present and the future: gratitude and generosity. Unless we consider this nation to be a precious gift from God, one with priceless freedoms and responsibilities and opportunities and resources, then we will lose one of the great treasures of our lives.
Today's Scripture also reminds us that we have a responsibility to respond to God's generosity with gifts of our own. You shall set your offering down before the Lord, says Deuteronomy. "Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you" (vv. 10-11). It's fascinating to note that even ancient Israel was a multicultural society, like our own - the celebration that follows gift-giving was to include not just Israelites, but also "the aliens who reside among you."
The challenge for us today, even in the face of terrorist threats, is to remain a generous people. As Christians in America, we've been blessed by God, and so we are called to be a blessing to others, in bad times as well as good. In ancient Israel, gifts were required for the upkeep of the sanctuary servants, but also for three categories of needy persons: resident aliens, orphans and widows (v. 12). Very few human needs have changed in the past 3,000 years, and our generous giving is still required if we are going to live in a global community in which the needs of the destitute are met.
The third lesson of September 11 may be this: justice. Unless we care for the poor of this world, and work for social justice, there will continue to be anger between classes and nations that can give rise to terrorist activity. As has been so clear in Israel this year, there can be no peace without justice, and no harmony without concern for human life.
Many New Yorkers report a sense of lostness as they drive around the city. Those massive twin towers provided a reference point for them. As long as they could see the towers, they knew where they were. But now those reference points are gone. Haven’t you experienced the loss of a reference point in your life? You move to a new place. Suddenly, everything familiar is replaced with strangeness, and you feel lost. You lose your job and wonder about your future. Through death you lose the reference point of a family member. Not only do you feel lost, but the light is gone. God knows we need these human reference points. But we also need to realize that there will come a day when we will lose all our physical reference points. The good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that God wants to be our reference point. God wants us to live in the light of God’s love. No terrorist can touch this reference point. No threat can destroy it, not even the devil himself. From this day forward let us resolve to remember Sept. 11 in a way that solidifies our spiritual reference points and transforms our future. |
09.08.02 - Remembering Pain (Deuteronomy 26:1-11)
