The Worship Service of September 23, 2001
The Rev. Dr. Barbara
Merritt
Senior Minister
First Unitarian Church
90 Main Street
Worcester, MA 01604
READINGS
-from Isaiah 54, 55
Though the mountains leave their place
and the hills be shaken
My love shall never leave you
nor my covenant of peace be shaken,
says the Lord, who has mercy on you.
O afflicted one, storm-battered and unconsoled,
I lay your pavements in carnelians,
and your foundations in sapphires;
I will make your battlements of rubies,
your gates of carbuncles,
and all your walls of precious stones.
In justice and integrity shall you be established,
far from terror where destruction
cannot come near you.
All you who are thirsty,
come to the water!
You who have no money,
come, receive grain and eat;
Come, without paying and without cost,
drink wine and milk!
Why spend your money for what is not bread;
your wages for what fails to satisfy:
Listen, that you may have life,
I will renew with you the everlasting.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call him while he is near.
Turn to the Lord for mercy;
to our God, who is generous in forgiving,
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
Yes, in joy you shall depart,
in peace you shall be brought back;
Mountains and hills shall break out in
song before you,
and all the trees of the countryside
clap their hands.
In place of the thorn bush, the cypress shall grow.
Second Reading: "Telling the Difference" – Hasidic Tale
An old Rabbi once asked his pupils how they could tell when the night
had ended and the day had begun.
"Could it be," asked one of the students, "when you can see
an animal in the distance and tell whether it’s a sheep or a dog?"
"No," answered the Rabbi.
Another asked, "Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance
and tell whether it’s a fig tree or a peach tree?"
"No," answered the Rabbi.
"Then what is it?" the pupils demanded.
"It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see
that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it is
still night."
Sermon
"Don’t be a stranger!"
We use this expression with people we’d like to see more often. It means, "I hope our paths will cross again soon." It means, "I like being with you."
Strangers are, by contrast, people we don’t know. People who may be a potential threat.
Etymologically, "stranger" means "foreigner" – "barbarian" – a person who is an outsider, not understood, set apart. In medieval Europe the stranger was a feared unknown. He could be killed without (?punishment). A stranger could not own property, or pass it on an inheritance to his heirs.
A particular group of radical Middle Eastern strangers recently came to this country of ours. And these strangers, who happened to be terrorists, caused massive destruction and catastrophic loss of human life.
Most of us are now more afraid of strangers than we were on September 10.
We have learned that the terrorist had a goal to destroy human beings that they believed are utterly worthless. They think of us as Satan worshipers—as dammed, as expendable. They think of Americans, and indeed all of Western Culture, as outside the reach of God’s mercy and love. Religion, which has the potential of inviting all of God’s children into relationship and understanding, has once again been turned into a deadly weapon.
These terrorists are using their twisted version of Islam to justify their hatred, their rage, and their inability to see Westerners as "human beings." They have declared "war" (what they call a holy war) against our culture, our values, our existence. Their stated goal is to destroy our civilization and innocent civilians. They see all of us as strangers, as "the other," as less than human.
As the nation prepares its response to these terrible attacks, as we
as individuals debate our opinions about the most effective and compassionate
response; we are all still faced with the question, today, tomorrow, and
the next day….
"How will I meet an unknown human being?"
"Will I be afraid?"
"Will I fear his capacity to harm me?"
"Can I blame ‘the stranger’ for ‘what is wrong with my life?’"
"Who will I welcome, and who will I send away?"
"Who should I let into my home, or my city?"
"Who is sitting next to me in an airplane?"
"How does what one person believes about God and truth affect the way we will engage one another?"
I believe that one of the most important resources we have at our
disposal concerning the future is our understanding of the past. In this
case, we need to study how has our own Western tradition has dealt with
"strangers." What does our history teach us about people of other faiths?
Specifically, two different religious groups in our culture, "Jews and
Christians." "How have we treated each other?" "How have we been sharing
the planet for the last 2000 years?"
If we look closely at the ancient Christian track record, of how, historically, Christians have thought about the one they called a stranger (the Jew), of how particular beliefs in God instruct our reception of the stranger, of how people understand the stranger’s affect on their lives, and finally, how thoughts and beliefs and understanding affect actions; then, we might know what we are called to do with the stranger in our own midst.
The one historical interaction I will reflect on this morning is how one particular tradition (the Christian church and Christian community over the past 2000 years) has interacted with the Jewish community. In studying what is almost a 2000 year history of anti-Semitism, the former Roman Catholic Priest and Boston Globe columnist, James Carroll has written a brilliant, flawed, lengthy, astonishing book called Constantine’s Sword. He is attempting to understand why six million Jews were murdered in the Nazi holocaust. And Carroll does the best job of anyone I have ever read of showing that, while Hitler and his thugs were responsible for the actual executions, in truth, Western civilization had been preparing the ground for this crime against humanity for a long, long time.
Carroll is not without his critics. They accuse Carroll, a Roman Catholic, of terrible things; the worst being that he wants Catholics to become Unitarians! They also accuse him (correctly) of believing that the New Testament was written by flawed and errant human beings who had political and religious agendas quite distinct from any truth-telling about Jesus. And finally, many Catholics find profoundly offensive Carroll’s belief that Jesus Christ is not essential to the salvation of all souls.
Needless to say, we Unitarians are especially receptive to Carroll’s understanding of the world. But even I will concede that he attempts more than any one author in 600 pages can do: an intensive look at the history of Jews and Christians. Even so, the questions he raises are essential ones for us, for everyone who wants to know how people can become deceived by hatred. Carroll has taught me much (I am ashamed to admit) that I was painfully unaware of about this particular aspect of Western Civilization.
For the next six months, Rev. Schade and I will be leading a book discussion group once a month on "Constantine’s Sword" (100 pages per month), so that we might consider his observations with more depth. You are most welcome to read and discuss the book with us, and to consider his implications for our own pluralistic religious community.
But, if Carroll has attempted too much in 600 pages, what can I plead in trying to describe this 2000-year period in the next 10 minutes? Hubris? Insanity? Early-on-set dementia? Clearly, I will only be giving you just a taste of what Carroll has to say—a few of the historical observations I found most revealing. Be warned, you are not going to find this be a comforting story.
Beginning with the violence of the Roman Empire. When King Herod died, two thousand Jews were crucified and no one was allowed to cut down the bodies for 2 weeks after their deaths.
The early Christian church was full of disagreement and dissension. The Apostles disagreed amongst themselves. The early bishops represented different regional priorities. Four different versions of the gospel were put forward. New Greek philosophy was added. Nevertheless, the first four centuries of Christianity were played out within the context of the Jewish tradition. Until the 4th century archaeologists have a very difficult time discerning the difference between Jewish and Christian graves. (There are no identifying symbols that set them apart.) Christians did not call Jews "strangers" then. They were kin, cousins.
Carroll believes that it was the Roman Emperor, Constantine, who forever changed the character of Christianity to one of imperial fiat, to the power of a religious army that conquered under the symbol of a cross, and to a creedal religion where the Nicean creeds and others served as loyalty oaths. Under Constantine and his symbol of the cross, a new emphasis was placed on Jesus’ death. Not Jesus’ life and teachings. Not Jesus’ resurrection or ongoing spirit. But Jesus’ crucifixion, his blood sacrifice, his execution. At this time of Constantine, a subtle change in theology occurred. Originally the thought was that "all who were baptized Christians were saved." This then became "only those who are baptized Christians are saved." And those who weren’t "saved" (Jews and heretics), did not have to be well treated.
As history would testify, this idea, that only Christians were saved, was a very bad turn for the Jews. The New Testament writers had already accused the Jews of having murdered Jesus. (The crime of "deicide;" killing God.) But this was to be only the first of a long line of accusations.
As one Jewish scholar, Robert Chezan, wrote, the ancient Catholic church taught that Jews were to be "theologically condemned, politically tolerated—practically limited. It didn’t take long before the belief that "Jews were condemned in the afterlife," was twisted into "Jews were to be condemned in this life."
With Constantine and his henchmen, we have the birth of the crime of "heresy" ("heresy," in Greek, means "choice). The Jews were given a choice—"convert or we will kill you and your children." "Convert or we will take away your property." "Convert, and there-by bring about the return of our Messiah (who is simply awaiting the Jewish people’s conversion); or refuse and we will send you into exile."
The first mass slaying of Jewish people by Christians occurred in AD 414 in Alexandria. An ancient Jewish community was massacred. The Roman Catholic Church did not condone this violence; but neither did they refrain from fueling the fires of hate.
The Bishop of Milan in that time wrote that he himself was, "ready to burn synagogues ‘that there might not be a place where Christ is denied.’ A synagogue, he said, is ‘haunt of infidels, a home of the impious, a hiding place of madmen, under the damnation of God Himself.’ To order the rebuilding of such a place, once it had been burned, was an act of treason to the Faith."
In the first crusade, in 1099, the Catholic church declared that if you die in your act of killing an infidel or a Jew, you are guaranteed salvation. (Sound familiar?)
During that first Crusade in Jerusalem, all the Jews that could be found by the Crusaders were driven into one synagogue and burned alive. In 1449, the Jewish problem was formally defined in racial terms: Jewish blood was declared to be dangerous, polluting, and defiling. To be Jewish was a crime. In the Middle Ages we have the Inquisition, and the first articulation of the "Final Solution," the elimination of Jews. What was then considered normal and appropriate anti-Semitism, ("Jews killed Jesus") became: "Jews want to kill us. They kill their own children when we give them the choice of convert or die. They often chose death for themselves and their children." It was in the Middle Ages that the Catholic Church in Rome set up the first ghetto, a closed-walled community where Jews were forced to live. That ghetto has been called "the ante-chamber of the concentration camps" of the 20th century. The Pope (in 1555) declared that Jews, in his own words "are condemned to eternal slavery"—
What were the crimes that the Christian church officially brought forward against the outsiders(the other) the Jews? In edicts and pulpits and papal bulls?
[Take a breath. This is not a short list.] Apparently the church found that having an enemy was unifying. And the Jews were blamed for everything that they didn’t like. They said, "Jews killed Jesus once and they are still murdering Jesus ‘outside of time’". "The Jewish people deny Christian claims." "They dissent." "They defy our power." "Their stubbornness is the sole obstacle to Jesus returning." "They are the threat to the ultimate fulfillment of salvation history." "They still reject Jesus." "They encourage skepticism to our creeds."
And then there were the unofficial whispers, but these malevolent whispers killed Jews by the thousands. The Jewish community was accused of "killing our children, of devastating the eucharistic, of poisoning wells." They were accused of being responsible for the plague. (Even though the Catholic church at this juncture denied this, since Jews were dying at the same rate as Christians.) They were called parasites. They were called too self-sufficient. They were told to live apart in poverty and ignorance. They were accused of being too wealthy and too educated. And then they were accused of trying to assimilated and hurt the church from within.
Edward Flannery, a thoughtful Catholic theologian, wrote that the real crime of the Jewish faith was to believe in a God of love and of justice:
"Jews have suffered so long because they bear the burden of God in history. Anti-Semitism is symptomatic of an animus against God deeply lodged in every person. And therefore, in every human institution."
Enter Martin Luther, the reformer; a man who wants to cleanse the corruption of the Roman Catholic institution. And then he invited Jews to become Christians in the new and improved church. When they refuse, Luther goes ballistic. He became one of the worst anti-Semitists of all time. Martin Luther was terrified of death. And Carroll argues that Jews then became to Martin Luther the ultimate threat:
And then we arrive at the 20th century. And night fell on all of Western civilization. We ought not to be surprised that the Roman Catholic Church in Rome was the first official foreign power to recognize Hitler’s regime as legitimate. One of modern history’s fondest illusions is that Hitler was "the one evil man" who killed all the Jews. But it was not even Hitler and a few henchmen. Not even "just the Germans." Constantine’s Sword is a story about how human hatred of Christians towards Jewish people (defined as the "other") was born, empowered, used and exploited.
On September 11, 2001 everyone in America got a small taste of what it feels like to be the victim of hatred; to be destroyed for the mere reason that your existence is believed to be threatening to another’s way of life; to be seen as "sub-human" – "an infidel" – "a follower of Satan" – "a heretic" – "morally corrupt." The people who killed over 6000 people, believed, like the early Christian crusaders believed, as self-appointed representatives of the "righteous poor," that they had God’s permission to destroy the "wicked wealthy."
And what will be our religious response to this murderous destruction? (Others will debate the political, military or strategic response.) My question is "what can you and I do about a long human history of hating "the stranger" – "hating" the one we define as "other." This hatred passes through our own Judeo-Christian tradition as well as sometimes through our own hearts.
At least one critical core value of this worshipping community is that we are on this spiritual path together. Even though we come out of different traditions, different experiences of the world, different conclusions about God, death, reality, and whether or not we ought to be wearing the American flag right now. We do not separate. We do not retreat to a place where everyone agrees with us and shares the same customs and beliefs. To quote the eighth minister of this parish, The Rev. Wallace Robbins:
My second conclusion is that we must get to know one another at a more profound level. No doubt there is a way in which we can politely chat with one another during coffee hour, and still maintain our distance, leaving our stranger status "intact." And there is an alternative. There is a way in which we pay attention to one another, listen respectfully, sharing what we believe and feel about the past, as well as what we feel and believe about the future. Particularly because we come from so many different perspectives and traditions, it is especially essential that we care about one another and we see one another as "brothers and sisters."
Finally, in the last few weeks we have seen how powerful and well-organized and focused some of the powers of hatred are in this world.
But, in this particular congregation, we have placed our faith in the belief that what holds us together (as children of God) is more powerful then that which pulls us apart.
Personally, I am "betting the farm" that the reality of love is more powerful than the reality of hatred. I believe that people who are profoundly different can enrich one another, help one another while saving ourselves, we can possibly saving the world in the process.
"Don’t be a stranger" – not here or anywhere.
May each of us do what we can to lift the night until that daylight comes when hatred is vanquished. No matter what name your neighbor uses to address the most high and the most holy, you and I will know that neighbor to be our sister and our brother.