Today we celebrate the dreams that inspired heroes of faith. This coming Wednesday our lectionary expands this to specify Maximilian Kolbe, friar, Maria Skobtsova, Grand Duchess Elizabeth of Russia and Martin Luther King, worker for civil liberties. Listen again to his words:
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
This is a short sermon on a large topic – the permission and courage to dream. I want to galvanise that theme into my own world where:
I have a dream of a nation able to live with its multicultural identity.
I have a dream of reconciliation with Indigenous Australians.
I have a dream that one day my children and my grandchildren will hold hands with all people of good will across a spiritually open and generous culture.
I have a dream where the Abrahamic traditions that separate Christian, Jew and Moslem will finally unite us in a common search for ‘dreaming’ together the hopes for a culture re-inspired by prophetic leadership.
I have a dream today.
I know that part of my dream is made more complex because as a Christian I share aspects of the Abraham story with Judaism and Islam. For each religion Abraham stands central. In each religion his story defines the journey faith demands where the past is abandoned and the unknown beckons. In that sense Abraham is central to each religion as well as transcending each: he is the father of faith before the faith traditions formed.
That seems a good start for establishing firm links with the other Abrahamic traditions. Each of us has taken Abraham’s story and woven our identity around it. Here are the opening words to the audio presentation of Karen Armstrong’s book The Children of Abraham:
The sacred story of Abraham traverses the geography of the most bitter political conflict in the modern world — beginning in what is now southern Iraq and ending in the West Bank city of Hebron. Yet Abraham is the common patriarch of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity.
Rather than uniting us the story marks the beginning of profound hostility. As you and I read this Hebrews’ account through modern eyes we need to take careful stock of our prejudices and the way our own tradition has shaped our textual understanding.
Six or seven years ago a well known mainstream Christian group was seeking funds to explore for oil at the edge of the Dead Sea in Palestine. Their program strategy indicated that all profits would go towards rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem. The overarching intention of this whole endeavour was that, with the Temple restored, Jesus would come again. I repeat, where I began this comment, the organisation behind this activity was a group absolutely central to Evangelical Christianity in Sydney.
Even if this proposal sounds absurd to you, hold it in your minds as I attempt to explain today’s set reading from Hebrews chapter 11. The early Jewish Christians described here had suffered the loss of property and in many cases their freedom. In the face of persecution, the writer commended their courage, but urged them to see that they were only passing through this world. A heavenly world awaited them and with that hope was the embrace of God.
This, along with the story I offered a moment ago, is world-denying. If that was all that our faith offered we would abandon political interest and community action: we would turn our backs on the generations of Christians who built and still build hospitals and schools and who take leadership in supporting people who lack the skill or the opportunity to reshape their lives. Worse still our response to suffering would be callous disregard.
I am constantly astonished when I hear Christian people speak this way: frankly it outrages me. Surely the pain and the heartache of life can’t so easily be dismissed. And yet, when I stop protesting at this exaggerated interpretation, I can identify with the primary theme that underlies today’s text: with all our being, each of us is called to live courageously. I came across this list about courage in my reflection:
- There is courage in taking action.
- There is courage in speaking.
- There is courage in questioning
- There is courage in pure listening.
- There is courage in thinking for ourselves.
- There is courage in being accountable.
Helen Keller, who has inspired generations of people with disabilities to live life to the fullest, offered this powerful challenge to be courageous:
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature,
nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.
Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.
Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.
To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits
in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.
Read the story of Abraham again in this perspective: ‘he set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance: and he set out not knowing where he was going’. The Hebrews writer read the story with his imagination. Little of what he said about Abraham and Sarah follows the Genesis account: it is pure invention. But his method and his invention are the themes that can liberate us.
Maybe one day, if persecution such as those early Christians endured comes again we too may be inspired by his words about heaven as our ultimate home. But in the meantime, the courage he spoke about gives us the energy and the determination to ‘live life to the fullest’ wherever we find ourselves .
But the writer offers another possibility that urges us to read the stories of faith with our imagination. I find it interesting that this week in the church year opens with a general theme about endurance and determination: then on Wednesday asks us to remember the lives of 20th century martyrs. The lectionary names men and women who gave their lives for what they believed: the last of those names, Martin Luther King, may well awaken your memory and your imagination.
King drew on the same biblical images and pointed beyond them. He called us to look beyond Jerusalem and Palestine, beyond traditions of holy places and ancient cities to be part of the struggle of human destiny. We do this by touching our deepest human energy to go on and make the best we can of each situation. King called on us to dream of a better world. This is not the stuff of heroes but the steady drumbeat of men and women conscious of the need to face life and change with courage. When we read our Bibles we need to grasp that its primary energy is about a faith that finds expression in justice.
The text is a challenge to move on from safe places, not satisfied with things as they are. It asks us
- To be courageous in taking action.
- To be courageous in speaking.
- To be courageous in questioning
- To be courageous in pure listening.
- To be courageous in thinking for ourselves.
- To be courageous in being accountable.
Courage is a fundamental human quality: it is more than a survival instinct. Courage begins with your determination to respect yourself. You commit yourself to live and make choices with integrity. You challenge your decisions and allow yourself to be open to new ideas and directions. With courage you can pause in a conversation and admit you are wrong or you can persist with an idea that has grasped your imagination. Courage knows how to distinguish between the ‘truth’ you live by and those absolute truths that can only chain your life.
As you get to know yourself, you become a more effective community member. By understanding the ‘truth’ you live by, you can honour the truths that inspire others. With them you can build a more open and generous community. You may not win each argument or settle community directions, but courage makes you a willing participant. Courage lets you see where integrity is lacking and frees you to offer alternatives.
Courage builds trust. And if you re-read today’s text from the Epistle to the Hebrews in the light of this, you will grasp the heart of its opening statement: ‘faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen’. Faith stands you where there may not always be tried and tested directions. Faith allows you to dream of possibility without being locked into other’s definitions and doctrines. Faith is what you hope for. And Abraham the man of faith for Jew, Moslem and Christian asks each of us to step outside our isolating traditions and meet the unknown future together.
I have a dream about a church courageous enough:
- to apologise for its past faults,
- to stand aside from the power that has corrupted it,
- to make amends for its bigotry,
- to stand alongside the brokenhearted and the betrayed
- and to join with all those of good will who dream for a better world where truth and justice meet.
A Meditation Homily based on the Epistle reading for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost, Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16.
10 August 2013.