STUMBLING BLOCKS
Rev. Dr. Joyce Antila Phipps
Old First Church, Middletown, NJ
August 30, 2020
Texts: Exodus 3:1–15; Matthew 16:21–28
The story goes this way: George Bush died and went to heaven (that’s after he was forgiven for all his sins as President, of course.) and St Peter’s walking him around seeing the sights. All of a sudden, Bush stops and stares at this guy who looks like Charlton Heston. “Hey, Moses!” he shouts at him, but the man just turns his back and walks away. Not one to be discouraged, Bush follows after him, shouting, “Hey, Moses! Hey! It’s me, the President! I’m one of your greatest admirers!” But Moses turns away. One of the heavenly beings, observing this, walks over to Moses and says, “Why didn’t you talk to him? That’s President Bush.” Moses looks at him and says, “Look, the last time I talked to a bush, it led me to the only place in the whole Middle East where there's no oil!”
Okay, so maybe the story’s not that good, but it illustrates a point, namely, the things we think of as stumbling blocks for our own actions, our own behavior in certain situations. In this morning’s reading from Torah, Moses is confronted by a bush that is burning but is not consumed by fire. It’s the direct contradiction of the laws of nature and of even how we express ourselves.
How often do we say that we are consumed by a passion, by a desire, even by pain? We talk about burning as a way of describing our passions and desires. Those metaphors are common to us. We don’t talk about being consumed by coldness but by fire. But in this case, the bush was not consumed, not destroyed by the fire. And in the same way, we hope we do not want our passions or desires to consume us, to destroy us.
But there are passions that are consuming that are not destructive, such as a passion for social justice. This past week was the fifty-second anniversary of the March on Washington. Do you remember where you were? In 1963 it sounded so ominous, even threatening. I was still in Washington then and I can tell you that people were genuinely afraid. They had no idea what to expect.
My late husband Bob and I were at First Congregational Church, which historically was General Howard’s old church, the same General Howard who helped to found Howard University, who spoke out against racism in his day, and who led Union troops during the Civil War in spite of his right arm being amputated. The only stumbling block we found in Washington during those days was fear, which is a great stumbling block. It was not just fear of a massive demonstration but a fear of change, the deep radical change that was needed in the nation at that time and now.
In today’s world, fear of change is just as great a stumbling block although the specifics of the change may be different. For instance, two weeks ago the U.S. Census Bureau issued a population projection stating that whites of European descent would no longer be a majority in the United States by 2042. In fact, the fastest growing population group is composed of persons of two or more races. Interracial and interethnic marriage continues to increase. This is a watershed for our Nation.
We will have truly become multiethnic, a country built on an allegiance to the principles of equality, freedom, and justice, principles that are universal and as multiethnic as our Nation will be. This is something to celebrate, not something to fear, but the undercurrent of fear remains a stumbling block to the creation of a just multiethnic society. The vitriol spewed out against immigrants is just one example.
Fear is a great stumbling block as indicated in this morning’s reading from Torah for it was fear that Moses had as he attempted to talk his way out of and around the demands that the Lord was making on him. Peter’s stumbling block was different––misplaced goals and desires. That stumbling block speaks just as directly to our time as does the one of fear. Churches are often most tempted by misplaced goals. Rather than simply serving the communities in their midst, churches often seek to aggrandize, to become bigger as if bigger means better. Even elephants and whales have their useful maximum sizes.
Peter’s response was driven by mixed motives as are most of our responses. He loved his teacher Jesus; that’s obvious. He and the other disciples followed him trekking across the lands now known as Israel and the Occupied Territories claimed by the Palestinian Authority to be a separate country. The fields of Galilee may be sweet and green, but most of this area is rocky, mountainous, and bleak.
Peter couldn’t fathom the idea that Jesus was going to be killed. Oh, no, Teacher, not you! Part of what he must have been thinking was: Hey, I’ve given up my old life, followed you around, and now you tell me this is it? He must have been consumed by love, fear, disbelief, not to mention a whole host of other emotions.
The passions that consume us, the desires that drive us are never simple; they are always complex, as are we. We have mixed motives, mixed desires, and we are often trying to sort out what it is that really moves us. That’s not a condemnation. That’s just a statement about being human.
Several years ago, there was an article written by a pretty wealthy grant maker describing his giving and the motivations that served as the basis of his giving. He wrote about how he was asked by a friend to give to the Boston Zoo, a cause he neither knew nor really had ever cared about; but he gave because his friend asked him to give. He divided his giving into what he called “legitimate baskets,” some reflecting his deep social commitments, others connected to friends, and others to his own interest in, as he frankly said, his own social ambition.
Our motives are just as mixed. We give, we join, we love––and are loved––for mixed motives. Our loving helps us be loved; our giving helps us to be recipients; our joining gives us a sense of belonging. This doesn’t disparage what we do; it only serves as a reminder to sort out our internal drives.
The Covid crisis has forced our church and others to rethink who and what we are as communities of faith and as a Nation. Here in New Jersey as well as in other parts of this Nation, black and brown persons are infected at a higher rate than the white population, In Monmouth County, the rate, not number but rate for blacks is twice that for white people and for Hispanics it is considerably over the black rate.
The one blessing during this Covid pandemic, if you can find one, is that it has so exposed our failures as a Nation that hopefully, we can never go back. On that hot August afternoon in 1963, we stood in the hot sun––and it was hot in a way that only Washington, D. C., can be hot––full of hope for the future.
We are now in the midst of another revolution. We can only hope that this one will succeed but we must remove the stumbling blocks of old attitudes. Like the grant maker, we observe that there are different baskets, each having its own legitimacy, leading to the result of reflecting the face of Christ in the world.
Let us pray: Help us, O God, who sees into our hearts, to better discern our motives in what we do, how we live, and how we serve you. In the name of him who came to show us how to serve and to live, even Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.