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LAKEWOOD UNITED CHURCH OF CHRIST
2601 54th Avenue South  St. Petersburg, FL  33712
On land originally inhabited by the Tocabaga
727-867-7961

lakewooducc.org
lakewooducc@gmail.com

Date:  March 26, 2023
Scripture Lessons: Ezekiel 37:1-14 and John 11:1-45
Sermon:  Out of Control
Pastor:  Rev. Kim P. Wells

The fabulous novel, Pigs in Heaven, by Barbara Kingsolver, a sequel to The Bean Trees, features a Cherokee lawyer named Annawake Fourkiller, who represents the Cherokee nation.  At one point in the novel, Annawake describes some of the horrors of the Trail of Tears to a Euro-American character in the story who didn’t learn much about that episode in American history when she was in school. Here’s the conversation between Annawake and Alice:

“Have you ever heard about the Trail of Tears?”

“I heard of it.  I don’t know the story, though.”

“It happened in 1838.  We were forced out of our homelands in the southern Appalachians.  North Carolina, Tennessee, around there.  All our stories are set in those mountains, because we’d lived there since the beginning, until European immigrants decided our prior claim to the land was interfering with their farming.  So the army knocked on our doors one morning, stole the crockery and the food supplies and then burned down the houses and took everybody into detention camps.  Families were split up, nobody knew what was going on.  The idea was to march everybody west to a worthless piece of land nobody else would ever want.”

“They walked?” Alice asks.  “I’d have thought at least they would take them on the train.”

Annawake laughs through her nose. “No, they walked.  Old people, babies, everybody.  It was just a wall of people walking and dying.  The camps had filthy blankets and slit trenches for bathrooms, covered with flies.  The diet was nothing that forest people had ever eaten before, maggoty meal and salted pork, so everybody had diarrhea, and malaria from the mosquitoes along the river, because it was summer.  The tribal elders begged the government to wait a few months until fall, so more people might survive the trip, but they wouldn’t wait.  There was smallpox, and just exhaustion.  The old people and the nursing babies died first.  Mothers would go on carrying dead children for days, out of delirium and loneliness, and because of the wolves following behind. . . . 

Alice uncrosses and crosses her arms over her chest, understanding more than she wants to.   She know she is hearing the story Annawake has carried around her whole life long.  . . . 

“They figure about two thousand died in the detention camps.”  Annawake says quietly.  “And a lot more than that on the trail.  Nobody knows.” .  .  . 

“When I was a kid, I read every account ever written about the Trail of Tears.  It was my permanent project.  In high school Civics I read the class what President Van Buren said to Congress about the removal, and asked our teacher why he didn’t have us memorize that, instead of the Gettysburg Address.  He said I was jaded and sarcastic. . . .

“Well.  What did President Van Buren say?”

“He said: ‘It affords me sincere pleasure to be able to apprise you of the removal of the Cherokee Nation of Indians to their new homes west of the Mississippi.  The measures have had the happiest effect, and they have emigrated without any apparent resistance.’” [Barbara Kingsolver, Pigs in Heaven, pp. 358-359]

As a side bar, let me point out that we can share this quote from this book because we are a church and the state can’t tell us what we can and can’t read or teach.  We still have some semblance of separation of church and state.

So, when I heard this description of the Trail of Tears, I had to turn off the audio book for a while just to let it sink in.  I had to recover from the recounting of such trauma; to process the horrors that we have the capacity to inflict upon one another as human beings.  And then I had to find out some more about the Trail of Tears.  In fact, it is thought that some 60,000 people died.  Wilma Mankiller, the first woman chief of the Cherokee, reflects, “Although it is so crucial for us to focus on the good things — our tenacity, our language and culture, the revitalization of tribal communities — it is also important that we never forget what happened to our people on the Trail of Tears.  It was indeed our holocaust.”  [Essential Native Wisdom, edited by Carol Kelly-Gangi, p. 95.]     

When I was younger, I used to be able to just pass over something like Kingsolver’s description of the Trail of Tears, slightly disturbed but also feeling a remove from such a story because in 1838 all of my relatives were in Europe.  We were not here in this country, so I would reason, it wasn’t our fault.  We had nothing to do with it.  But now, thanks to things like critical race theory, I know that I, as a person defined by my culture as white, have benefitted from what was done to the Cherokee and other tribes.  And from slavery and its legacy, which, again, I used to see as something that did not involve me because our people were in Germany and Italy, thank you very much.  

But now I see that as a human being, the Cherokee and those who were forced to walk the Trail of Tears, are my people because we are all one people, one race.  And the people who forced the Trail of Tears to proceed are also my people.  So, I had to stop when I heard that part of the book.

And, yes, the Trail of Tears is horrific.  And so is the Holocaust. And that did involve my relatives. And slavery and the Middle Passage and its continuing aftermath – these are also horrific.  And there are many other terrible things that we have done to each other, and are still doing to each other, as a human family.  

But a message of the Bible, and certainly of the two stories that we heard this morning, is that God is more powerful than all of the havoc and evil we can dish out.  There is a power, Divine Love, present in the world working for life, for justice, for healing, and for good, that is stronger than the worst we can imagine.  It is the power of love and life.  And it cannot ultimately be thwarted.  

Now, if there are 30 people in this sanctuary, then there are probably many more than 30 images and metaphors for God among us.  There are many ways of thinking about and describing that which is eternal and fundamental and inviolable.  Maybe we associate the letters g-o-d with a divine spirit somewhere working for our good.  Maybe we think of God as a benevolent dictator somewhere.  Maybe we think of God as a light within us; a light of love.  Maybe we associate God with the life force.  Maybe we think of God as a genie waiting to help us.  Maybe we think of God as a human construct created to give us a way of talking about things that are ultimate and universal.  However we may think about God and envision and imagine God, the stories we heard today remind us that God is about the perpetuation of a primary reality of life and love and goodness.  

In Ezekiel, we hear of the prophet speaking words of hope to a people who, like the bones,  are devastated, torn apart, separated – from one another, from their purpose, and from their God.  But the story tells of God’s plan for the community to be restored to life, a re-creation of the people who will bless all the people of the world as they embody the justice and compassion of their God.  

And the story of Lazarus tells us that the reality of God embodied in the life of Jesus, a reality of justice and compassion, is stronger than death.  The reality of God is a story of life and wholeness, and it cannot be eliminated or eradicated.  Hard as we may try.

In describing the aftermath of the Trail of Tears, William Hensley, a Cherokee of the 20th century tells of the challenges of creating a new society:  “For Cherokee families moved helter-skelter by government edict in the 1830s from their original homelands east of the Mississippi to the raw, wooded rolling hills and grass-covered plains of Indian Territory (now Oklahoma), it was a scramble for survival.  Everyone had been forced to start over from scratch, accumulating enough tools and equipment for clearing the lands to construct new homes, start subsistence gardens, acquire and raise food for family and animals.  But more difficult was the re-establishment of a sense of community, the restructuring of a shattered culture, and the invention of new ways of being — social, economic, and spiritual.”  [Essential Native Wisdom, edited by Carol Kelly-Gangi, p. 23.]

New beginnings are daunting but they also hold promise.  And the Bible conveys that promise:  The possibility of a new reality that is a more true reflection of the nature of a God of universal, unconditional, eternal love.   

But we must also see that life in God, the reality of God which cannot be vanquished, is always a threat to those who covet their human power and authority.  To those who are benefitting from the way things are.  To those who think they have some say so in defining reality.  The wild, unpredictable, uncontrollable love of God can be threatening to those who prize their human power and control like the religious authorities in the story of Lazarus.  

Now some of us are utterly disgusted and discouraged by what we see going on around us today.  I attended an event this weekend where I had the opportunity to talk with a recently retired psychiatrist.  And he said, life is more distressing now than it has been, certainly in our life times.   Well, we see our values and our assumptions and our rights not just dying but being outright killed.   And we are seeing hope dry up as alienation inundates us.  

But we know that the power of Divine Love, the love we see in the images offered by Ezekiel and the legacy of Jesus, the power of that love is ultimate and infinite.  That love can overcome the worst horrors humanity can concoct.  Love will prevail.  Not religious authority.  Not theological tenets.  Not a creed.  Not the economy.  Not the culture.  Not the ‘enemy,’ however defined.  Not political dogma.  Those things will not prevail.  They are fleeting.  The reality of God, the eternal manifestation of Divine Love, that is what will prevail.  That reality is stronger than greed, selfishness, violence, vengeance, hatred, and even death.  

Notice in Ezekiel, we are told that the bones were very dry.  Scattered on the battlefield.  Then we are told of the presence of the spirit of God.  And there is a rattling.  And the skeletons come together.  Then the sinews connect the bones.  Then flesh clothes the bones.  And finally breath, ruah, the divine spirit, blows life into the nostrils and lungs of the reconstructed earthlings.  It is a process.  It takes time.  From the horror of devastation to the re-creation of sustainable life.  But life prevails.  And it is beyond our control.  And, yes,  it takes time, and transformation, and change, and we don’t like to be patient.  It can be so much easier to sit in self pity and blame.  And to be victims of those who think they have the power of life and death over us.  Those who are benefiting from power arrangements that damage and degrade and harm others.  But our faith story tells of love that frees new life.  Where we are no longer held in bondage to fear or the tyranny of the self.  Where we are no longer captive to hopelessness, greed, hunger, poverty, and degradation.  

Lisa Pivec, Director of Public Health for the Cherokee Nation, explained the outlook of the Cherokee nation which it has sought to maintain in its new configurations since the Trail of Tears.  This description of the nature of the Cherokee was offered in 2020 as the Cherokee faced the threat of covid:  “We have to come together as one people.  We have to think about others.  And that’s something that Cherokees do.  And that’s how we live is collectively and understanding that what we do and how we live impacts others.  Don’t ask, what are my rights? Ask, what are my responsibilities?” [Essential Native Wisdom, edited by Carol Kelly-Gangi, p. 110.]  How beautiful that the Cherokee are able to try to maintain that fundamental core underpinning in this society of extreme individualism and self absorption.  It is another testimony to the power of Divine Love:  New life is possible.  And life and love will prevail.  

Our faith is about life, full and free.  A life of joy and abundance and community.  Compassion and commitment to the common good.  Despite what we do to each other, the problems we make for ourselves, and the way we may treat each other, our God is a God of life and love with power greater than the worst we can dish up.  And the image of that God is indelibly imprinted within each one of us.   We need to be reminded of this as we come to the ending of the Lenten season and approach Holy Week where we remember the stories of the end of Jesus’ earthly life.  

We close with a Cherokee prayer particularly fitting for Lent as we seek to re-turn our lives to God:  

“O Great Spirit, who made all races, look kindly upon the whole human family and take away the arrogance and hatred which separates us from our brothers [and sisters].” 

 [Essential Native Wisdom, edited by Carol Kelly-Gangi, p. 60.]

Amen.

A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.

LAKEWOOD UNITED CHURCH OF CHRIST
2601 54th Avenue South  St. Petersburg, FL  33712
On land originally inhabited by the Tocabaga
727-867-7961

lakewooducc.org
lakewooducc@gmail.com

Date: April 9, 2023 Easter Sunday
Scripture Lesson: John 20:1-18
Sermon: Don’t Hold On
Pastor:  Rev. Kim P. Wells

When we see our two little grandsons, ages 2 and 3, the first thing we want to do is scoop the little darlings up in our arms and hug and kiss them.  But their wonderful parents are teaching them about consensual touch.  You need to consult with someone before you touch them.  Ask if it is ok.  Get permission.  So, when we see our grandsons, the older, verbal one, Soren, will ask, “Can I give you a hug, Grandma?”  “Can I hug you, Baba?”  It is so dear.  We went through these negotiations with the boys numerous times to help re-enforce what the parents are trying to teach, which we completely agree with.  Then we let the boys know that we are always receptive to hugs from them.  They can always hug us.  They don’t need to ask every time.  Of course we want to hug those little munchkins!

This morning we heard the unfolding story of Mary visiting the tomb of Jesus and becoming aware that he was not in the tomb, and then that she was having an encounter with him in the garden.  When Jesus addresses her by name, Mary, and she realizes who this is that she is conversing with, she, naturally, wants to embrace him.  Her dear friend and mentor, whom she thought was dead, is talking with her.  Yes, she was stunned and confused and at sea, but here is her loved one and she reaches out to hold him.  It was a natural impulse.  A reflex.   Completely and fully human.  Too instinctual, emotionally charged, impassioned, desperate, to think about asking, “May I give you a hug?”   

And then in the story there is the perhaps surprising response from Jesus, “Don’t hold on to me. . .”   Don’t hold on?  To the loved one you thought was dead.  Don’t hold on to me.  To the one who has freed you from 7 demons and given you a new life.  Don’t hold on to me.  To the one who has brought you closer to God.  Don’t hold on to me.  To the one who has embodied unconditional love to you and everyone else.  Don’t hold on to me.  

From one so loving this cannot be a rebuff but only an invitation.  Don’t hold on to me because I have more to do, more to give you, more to show you.  We’re not done.  We must move on to greater things.  

So we are shown that the power of the resurrection involves letting go; not holding on but moving on to greater things.  Mary must let go of her preconceptions and views about what is possible.  She must let go of her image of Jesus as a capable, insightful, deeply spiritual rabbi and healer so that he can be more than that to her and to the world.  

The story of the resurrection is a story inviting us to new life and hope beyond our wildest imaginings.  Regardless of our circumstances.  And, perhaps the worse our situation, the more powerful the resurrection can be.  The resurrection is about more than we could ask for or imagine.  And experiencing that power and hope can involve letting go of what we are holding on to that may be anchoring us when the winds of the spirit want to fill our sails and send us onward.   If we hold on to the past, to our preconceptions, we might miss out on what Divine Love is offering us.  Easter is definitely about ‘out of the box’ thinking.  Don’t hold on because that just might hold you back from experiencing the joy, wholeness, and love that Jesus is trying to give to us.  

So what might we be clinging to that is holding us back from experiencing the full force of new life, hope, and grace?  What are we holding on to?   Oh, so many things! 

Like Mary wanting to hold on to Jesus, and linger, and grieve, maybe we want to hold on to our limited conceptions of Jesus and to our image of what the church should be.  Maybe we want to hold on to our traditional understandings of faith.  Maybe we want to hold on to Easter as being all about the after life, being in heaven with God and with our loved ones for eternity.  But there is more, if we will open up to it. 

Maybe we are clinging to safety, certainty, and nostalgia when it comes not only to faith but to life in general.  Maybe we are holding on to a grudge or some kind of umbrage in a relationship.  Maybe we are holding on to stereotypes and that is keeping us from seeing real people.  Maybe were are holding on to the security of a power structure that excludes and privileges.  Maybe we are clinging to an economic system that needs to be transformed.  Maybe we are tied to a conception of the past that is not only incomplete but inaccurate.  What about those Confederate statues?  Maybe we are holding on to societal mores that diminish women  –  including expected toleration of unwanted touch.  I am in a book club with several lawyers and they try to avoid going into the law library at the courthouse because they are always getting groped by another lawyer or a judge.  Time for that consensual touch conversation.  So much to let go of!   

I read recently about a retired Episcopal priest who found a box of her papers and memorabilia from when she was in high school.  She remembers that she was distracted and not a very good student.  But she looked at her report cards and the grades were impressive.  All these years she has carried an image of who she was that is not accurate.  She had to come to terms with the damage that she had done to herself.  There can be a lot to let go of.    

Growing up, my grandmother lived with us.  It was the 60’s.  And she was enthralled with the singer Engelbert Humperdinck.  We had his records and she would play them over and over.  We even went to hear him at a concert at the Merriweather Post Pavilion outside Washington, D. C.  My parents and I went with my grandmother.  At one point in the concert, a middle aged woman sitting next to us whom we did not know, turned to my father and begged him to throw her up onto the stage.  We were sitting about midway back in the audience.  Apparently Humperdinck was quite the heart throb for a certain demographic.  The one song of his that I remember, and maybe you know it, too, is “Please Release Me.”  

Please release me, let me go

For I don’t love you anymore.

To waste our lives would be a sin.

Release me and let me love again.

It’s a croon about letting go of a past love and being freed to embrace someone new.  It’s about as sappy as you can get, but there is a message there.  We need to let go of the past, and its hold on us, to embrace a new future.   

Don’t hold on to me, Jesus tells Mary.  Jesus needs to be free to move on with his mission of loving all of creation for all time.  He has to spread his message that love is stronger than death.  He has to let us know that he is with us empowering us to be agents of love in the world – love of ourselves, love of others, love of enemies, and love of the Earth.  Don’t hold on to me – don’t hold me back, don’t hold me down, I am not finished.  I have more love to spread.  More light to shed. 

The story of the resurrection that we celebrate today is about God’s love being so powerful that it is able to overcome whatever is in the way.  It is about love that is stronger than even death itself.  Certainly love is stronger than our faults and grudges and small mindedness.   And greater even than the evil and the terror and the pain we cause ourselves and each other. 
And greater than the injustice and inequality that we perpetuate.  The Divine Love that we see in the resurrection is greater than all of that.  Don’t cling, don’t embrace, don’t hold on.  Especially to what is holding us back from life, full and free.  

Don’t hold on.  Especially to the fears that are holding you back.  Like some of you, I’m sure, I’m afraid of heights.  This condition developed for me when I was in my 30’s and it is still with me.  So, the last thing I would ever want to do is go sky-diving.  But in reading about an account by someone who has done it, I am so impressed by the transforming power of the experience –  of letting go.  

Leah Alissa Bayer tells of her first sky dive:

“First few seconds: Terrifying and full of panic. When I was pushed out of the plane I thought I had committed suicide. I was frantic and felt unbelievable regret. I’ve never felt more scared in my life.

“But a few seconds later things leveled out and I felt a rush of endorphins, exhilaration, and unparalleled excitement. Free fall is intense and I flipped from thinking I was dead to feeling like a rockstar.

“Then the chute hit, and everything was peaceful as we fell gently back down to the sand. I landed on Pismo Beach where a handful of friends cheered and welcomed me home.

“During that fall I had a tremendous personal breakthrough. I had been suffering extraordinary depression for many years with periodic suicidal thoughts. When I left that plane I felt like I had crossed that threshold and thrown my life away. But really, I was putting it in the hands of someone else, letting go, and it turns out everything was ok. More than ok. I realized I really do want to live. As I fell down to the shore I knew I belonged to the Earth below me – I wanted to be there. I have many more jumps to make before my time is done.”

Bayer concludes:

“I highly recommended skydiving as therapy to anyone that has suffered severe depression or suicidal thoughts/actions. It played a big role in changing my life.” [https://www.quora.com/What-does-it-feel-like-to-skydive]

Don’t hold on, Jesus tells Mary.  When we let go, there is more awaiting us than we could ever imagine.  Healing.  Hope.  Identity.  Unconditional love.  Even for ourselves.  New life.  Don’t hold on especially to what is holding you back.  Let the love flow!

Divine Love is begging to set us free.  Even from the power of death.  Pleading.  To release us into a reality of joy and peace.  Don’t hold on.  Let go.  Consent!   Amen.

A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.