St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
Jonah 3:1-5,10; Psalm 62; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20
Epiphany 3B—January 25, 2009
Homily preached by the Rev. Canon Linda S. Taylor

 

“On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear…”

President Obama’s words during his inaugural address struck many chords with me, but this phrase is the one that has stayed with me, hovering around the edges of my awareness, all week long.

“On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear.” These words certainly reflect the new spirit and energy that has blossomed in our country over the last few months. There’s no doubt that the road ahead will be rocky. There’s no doubt that our troubles may get worse before things get better. There’s also no doubt—at least in my mind—that the people of our country have been mobilized to act together in a way that has not happened in a very long time. We are choosing to put aside the fear that has paralyzed so many of us. We are choosing to look for ways that we can be individually responsible for bringing about the kind of change that can only happen when large groups of people work together to build on shared values and to lay aside—at least for a time—our allegiance to the positions that divide us. We are choosing to commit to a new way of living together—a way that holds each of us accountable for our actions—a way that honors the work of the founders and others who have gone before us—a way that holds hope for renewal of all that we have held dearest about this country.

“On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear.” These words also speak to our Christian belief and responsibility. As Christians, we live in the light of hope. We live in hope of redemption. We live in hope of resurrection. This hope is not limited to what happens after we die. At its root, Christian hope is about what happens as we live this life we’ve been given. It’s about living in awareness, gratitude and response to the good news of God’s love for us. Being a Christian means committing to live in such a way that makes our hope visible to the world. Being a Christian means a commitment to share that hope with others. We gather here because we have chosen hope over fear—and we all know that there are days when we’re hanging on to that choice with our fingernails. Living in hope doesn’t mean that all the days are easy. Living in hope doesn’t mean that we never face difficulties. Living in hope means that we know God is with us as we face the road ahead and do whatever it is we need to do. Gathering together to worship, to give our praise and thanks and to support each other serves as a continuing reminder that we are not alone in this life.

As individuals with our own sets of circumstances, memories, hopes and dreams, it’s sometimes difficult to remember that we are not alone. It’s also sometimes difficult to remember that our individual calls to follow Christ—or to serve as citizens of this country—are meant to be lived out in community. Sometimes we are sorely tempted to strike out on our own—to do what we think needs to be done—to forget that the wisdom of the group can often be greater than the knowledge of the individual. There are other times when we are tempted to place all responsibility on our leaders—to abdicate our individual and corporate responsibilities to share the burdens of service. There are times when we act as though the person painting the vision of hope is solely responsible for its implementation—or that the vision is only for those who are in the inner circle. Time and again, Jesus’ disciples fell into that mindset, holding up a mirror for us to see ourselves and our tendency to place all responsibility on the one who leads us.

There are indications that President Obama is aware that many people are holding him solely responsible for the future of this country. That may be the reason he only used the word “I” three times in his inaugural address: first, to acknowledge that he is “humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust we have bestowed, and mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors.” Then, as he thanked “President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.” Then, after describing the situation of our country, he said “I say to you that the challenges we face are real.” During the rest of his address, he spoke of “we” and “us”, making it clear that it is not just about him and calling us all into the work that needs to be done.

There will be days when our new president will not meet our expectations. There will also be days when we will not meet his. This is not a new story to most of us, and certainly not to anyone who has ever read many of the gospel stories about Jesus and his disciples. The expectations of many are high; the fears of many are great. So, as we face the road ahead, I ask that you hold our president, our country, our world and ourselves in prayer. The very best place to begin is with the words Bishop Gene Robinson used this past Sunday at the National Cathedral, at the service opening the days leading to the inauguration. The full text of the prayer is on the back table, and I commend it to you.

God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.

Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln's reconciling leadership style,
President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL
the people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.

Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and
common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be
neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though
he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand - that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.

 

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