“So the LORD
scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left
off building the city. Therefore it was called Babel, because there the LORD
confused the language of all the earth; and from there the LORD scattered them
abroad over the face of all the earth.” (Genesis 11:1-9)
I want to tell you a little bit about my own experience with Babel, an experience
when God confused my language and scattered me across the map. I grew up in a suburb of Birmingham called
Mountain Brook. If you know anything
about Mountain Brook, then you know that it is sometimes dubbed “The Tiny
Kingdom.”
The
median household income in Mountain Brook is about $150,000. The racial make-up is 99.5% white. The only chain restaurant in the city is
Starbucks. The city has some of the best
public schools in the state and even the country. And just about everyone graduates from high
school and goes on to college.
As
you might imagine, I spent much of my childhood and early youth living in a
bubble. While I am thankful for a good
education and a safe place to live, I recognize that I was deprived of seeing
how the other 99% lived. In a way,
Mountain Brook is like the city of Babel—everyone has one language and the same
words and the city has the means and resources to do anything they want.
Growing
up I attended St. Luke’s Episcopal Church.
The church itself was representative of Mountain Brook. However, the Episcopal Church provided ways
for the youth to venture outside the safe confines of the Tiny Kingdom. One such experience was a mission trip to
North Carolina where we encountered people who lived in extreme poverty.
Another
experience was Sawyerville Day Camp where we met the poorest of the poor in the
Black-belt of Alabama. Even more, this
was the first time in my life where I spent any time with members of the
African-American community. In addition
to seeing poverty first hand, I learned a very different language and culture. My cultural horizons were enriched by getting
to know these families.
These
experiences opened my eyes to the truth that the world was not as predictable
and clean and pleasant as I thought. This
experience also opened my eyes to a rich culture that grew out of poverty and
slavery—one that is marked by courage and resiliency and creativity.
In so many ways,
these experiences uprooted me from my world, from the Tiny Kingdom. Through the Episcopal Church God literally
confused my language and scattered me across the many cultures and languages of
Alabama and the South.
While these
experiences were often uncomfortable and continue to be uncomfortable, I have
come to value these experiences as vital to my formation as a citizen of God’s
heavenly kingdom, a kingdom that is populated by all races and nations and
cultures.
I am becoming
more convinced that the greatest threat to our common life together is
tribalism. Tribalism is when people of
one culture value their culture over all other cultures. This is dangerous because the more and more
we separate ourselves into groups that speak one cultural language the more we
disconnect ourselves from the rest of the world. This separation creates fear and
misunderstanding and animosity and violence and even war.
Even more,
tribalism is contrary to God’s dream as revealed through his Son who is drawing
all languages and nations to himself.
God knows the dangers inherit in tribalism and that is why God scattered
the people of Babel across the land and confused their language--God did them a favor. Just as God’s creation is diverse with species
of plants and animals so is God’s creation diverse with different languages and
cultures that reflect the full image of God.
Today’s scene
from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:1-21) reflects how God completes the story of Babel. Pentecost reconciles the many different
people who have been separated into different tribes that speak different
cultural languages. And God does this by
the power of the Holy Spirit.
And notice was
the Holy Spirit does. The Holy Spirit
makes the people understand each other in their native tongue. In other words, the Holy Spirit breaks down
the walls put up by cultures and customs and languages by helping the people hear one another. Ultimately, the Holy Spirit makes this diverse group one people who speak the truth of God and the Church is a born, a Church that reflects
the rich diversity of God’s people.
One of the most
valuable lessons I learned in conflict management class is the fact that most
conflict is reduced or resolved when people understand each other. It is truly amazing what happens when human
beings really begin to understand each other—fear of the unknown begins to
disappear, understanding grows, room for compassion is cultivated, and the
first fruits of reconciliation are born.
Resolving
conflict is not about convincing someone else why you are right and they are
wrong. Instead, the foundation of
reconciliation is discovered when people know the story of the other. Reconciliation begins when the Spirit of
truth helps people listen and understand where the other is coming from. It is amazing what happens when the truth is
spoken and heard.
Perhaps the most
powerful modern day witness to this truth happened in the years following
apartheid in South Africa. President
Mandela and Anglican Bishop Desmond Tutu created what became known as the Truth
and Reconciliation Commission.
(Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission)
The
truth-seeking function set out to uncover the real story that was free from
cultural-bias and historical revisionism.
The reconciliation function focused on restorative justice as opposed to
retributive justice. The goal was not to
punish the offenders. Instead, the goal
was to reconcile a people who were broken by tribalism and power-structures
that abused the vulnerable.
If you have ever
seen coverage of these movements, you have seen how incredibly painful they
were. Truth and reconciliation is not peace
signs, daisies and roses. Truth and
reconciliation is hard. Truth and
reconciliation forces people to drop their pride and their obsession with the
justification of self.
In a very real
way, truth and reconciliation feels like a violent wind and it feels like your
head is on fire. Using the words of St.
Paul’s, this process of truth and reconciliation is the beginning of the birth
pangs. In the Word for the Week, I
quoted Tim Keller who said, “People are messy; therefore, relationships are
messy. Expect messiness.”
And as
Christians who know the story of God, a story that includes a bunch of messy
people, this messiness should inspire hope and not despair. While the process of truth and reconciliation
is painful and confused, we know that the way to salvation through Christ is
painful and confused. But the good news
of Christ says that truth and reconciliation is saving us from the same old
story of us vs. them.
Even
before I moved to Selma, I heard a refrain in my prayer life and through many
of your voices and the voices in the community.
I kept hearing, “the Spirit is alive in Selma.” And on this Pentecost, this refrain leads me
to believe that God is using Selma to be a witness to how the Holy Spirit can
break down the walls that divide. Selma
is poised to be a witness to how people of different cultures and languages can
come together and work toward healing and unity, as people who reflect the
kingdom of heaven on earth.
But
if Selma wants to live into this witness, we must be prepared for the violent
wind and the tongues of fire, we must be prepared to endure some pretty
difficult conversations, we must be prepared to care more about listening to
the story of the other than we do about telling our side of the story.
In
a very real way, this will be like hip surgery.
Before healing can begin there must be a willingness to dig deep and
open the wounds and scars that are just under the surface. But as Christians, we are given reason to
trust that this pain is the path to healing and wholeness. We of all people know that the way of the
cross is the way that will prevail and show abundant life.
I
haven’t quite figured out what this looks like in practical terms. But I do trust that the Holy Spirit is moving
in this parish and in the community to help us figure that out. I do trust that the Holy Spirit is and will
continue to put people with good-will together in the same room like the Spirit
did when 120 gathered in the same room on Pentecost.
So
on this Pentecost, I invite you to pay attention to how the Holy Spirit might
be calling you and St. Paul’s and members of the community into the same room
to work toward healing. And I know many
of you are engaged in this work. I know
many of you have been ready to give up.
But the truth is, you are planting seeds in order for the power of the
Holy Spirit to work in this community.
And believe me
there is not some magic formula.
Instead, the call is to be faithful to the Spirit of truth. The call is to be faithful to the truth that
God’s love will endure, God’s love will beat down the walls that divide one
brick, one person at a time. God’s love
will create community that surpasses our wildest dreams—I saw it happen in Hale
County at Sawyerville Day Camp. I keep
seeing it happen here in Selma.
At first, all
this truth and reconciliation talk might sound like a lot of babel. It might look like Bonnie and Hugh trying to
reason with their eight-month son Hugh who will be baptized in a few minutes. But after a while, Bonnie and Hugh will pick
up on baby Hugh’s baby babel. After a
while the difference between an “I’m hurt” grunt and an “I’m tired” grunt will
be abundantly clear.
Soon
relationships will develop and expressions of good-will will be shared. Collaboration will inspire creativity. Soon God’s people will live more fully as the
people God created us to be. Like a
choir who sings in four parts making one melody, the Spirit will show the world
how the many cultural languages of this world speak to the one true love
revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
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