Sound and Fury

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Second Sunday of Christmas, Year B
January 10, 2021
 
Driving into work on Wednesday, I listened to the goings on in to the day’s news from Washington DC on my car radio.  Having gone to Seminary in the DC metro area, and later, living there for nine years, and serving a parish in the District, I have seen lots of protests, vigils, Inaugurations, and marches come and go. Our family participated in a few of them in our role as concerned and engaged American citizens.  Doing so was a good civics lesson for our children, and a positive perk of living in DC despite dealing with hopelessly lost tourists, hordes of school children on class trips, and regularly gridlocked traffic.
 
What I heard from the folks who were interviewed on Wednesday did not sound like any protesters I ever encountered.  They were impassioned beyond all reason, calling for revolution, and spoke of heading into battle.  I feared for those I know and love who still live and work there.  I wish that what I heard later in the day, about the storming of the Capitol building and the ensuing violence and destruction was altogether surprising, but it was not.  This is not to say that I have great skill in divining the future, all that rage just was rising way beyond what we saw in the worst of what happened over the summer.  These folks were not against something they saw as unjust, many were all in for violent overthrow.  The closeness of the election, aided by dysfunctional leadership stoked visceral anger, blame, and hatred.  All of this proved to be a toxic cocktail on Wednesday as due process, and respect for the rule of law was overrun, literally.
 
We must say, without political bias, that what happened was an epic human failure.  The various actors in the drama are not to be excused, justified, or proclaimed innocent as if such effrontery was, somehow, acceptable or necessary.  Seditious attempts, destruction, injuries, and loss of life were tragic and avoidable.  Before the dust settled, more blame, more baseless conspiracy theories, and more incendiary rhetoric continued to rise from the smoking crime scene.  Human sin had a field day.
 
We all play a part in human sin as none of us are holy, righteous, and blameless in our own fervent passions.  We can go too far, objectify others, and look past the worth and value of those we label as “them.”  We dare not go as far as some did on Wednesday, but we are not pure victors over the powers of darkness.  At times, we all struggle to be children of light.  Peace is not the absence of conflict.  It is the condition under which respectful conversation can continue.  Such peace perilously fragile right now. 
 
Piling on to the election angst, we are weary from months of lonely isolation, record breaking COVID infections, an erratic response, and death on a scale of almost 2 9/11s per day.  Tempers are short, anger is palpable, and hope seems elusive.  Perhaps, we reached an inflection point on Wednesday.  It feels like we hit bottom.  Perhaps, most if not all of us, will, finally say: “enough!” Perhaps most if not all of us we will refuse abide and allow manipulative provocation of hatred in all forms.  I pray this will be so, not just in the shock phase of the event, but in living into a new way forward.  Healing is needed and necessary.
 
In case it got lost in the headlines, Wednesday was also the Feast of the Epiphany.  This is not a footnote to the day, rather, it is an appropriate lens through which to look at what happened.  The Epiphany story has plenty of light in it.  The wise men come from the far east, following a star, believing that it leads them to even greater light.  Upon seeing Jesus, they are overwhelmed with joy.  Their wildest hopes of seeing God joined with humanity are realized.  We tend to use this lesson to encourage ourselves to look for God busting into our lives in unexpected places.  As Bishop Jennifer Brooke-Davidson said in a recent meditation: “the word EPIPHANY comes from the Greek and means, loosely translated, "Dang - didn't see THAT coming in a million years!"  We need to be reminded that Epiphany is not a one and done event from ancient history, it is the experiential affirmation that God is still working, even now.  When we are on the lookout for God moving, we see some amazing things.
 
At the same time, the Epiphany story tells of darkness lurking in the all too human will to power.  Before they find Bethlehem, the wise men find King Herod in Jerusalem.  When they inquire as to the birth of the new born King, Herod freaks out.  This is assault on his hold on power.  He asks the wise men to report back as to where they find this King, so he can pay him homage.  They agreed and departed, though certainly as wise men, they perceived the beady eyes and wringing hands of Herod’s duplicitous ambition.  After they saw Jesus, partied a bit, gave him gifts, and departed.  Being wise and discerning men, they heeded their dream’s warning about the despotic Herod, and returned home by another road.
 
Even though we are very near the beginning of Jesus’ story, tensions between the will to power and the contrasting Divine will to love begin to rear their ugly head.  This will play out as those wielding privileges of status and high office clash with Jesus as he reveals their hypocrisy, loves those they hate, and points to God’s ultimate Kingdom, Power, and Glory.  Jesus story takes us all the way to the cross: a shameful symbol that is transformed.  Not to spoil the ending, but God wins.  God always will, though it may be hard to see or believe in the moment.
 
Our present darkness is not radically new or different in long story of humanity.  When the will to power denies the worth and dignity of every human being, we see darkness swallowing life.  We are not without guidance and we do have hope.  If we are to grow through human tragedy, we are to surrender all pretense that we are in charge, seek God’s way, and find a new Way.
 
A lesson we can take from the wise men is that when those with great power, specifically political power, ask us to act in any hate fueled, unethical, or immoral way, disobey. Turn around, and walk in the other direction.
 
The unwanted but much needed Epiphany of Wednesday seems clear.  Hate, in all forms, destroys everything in its path.  Hate is not an acceptable tactic.  Hate is not acceptable as rhetoric.  Hate is antithetical to the God’s love.  God is speaking. To us.  Now.  Can we listen?
 
 
St. Paul gives good direction for troubling times, saying that peace, patience, gentleness, and self-control are signs of God at work in us.  If we are looking for guidance, the right people and path to follow, and join in the goodness of God, these are the qualities to seek.  The wise men of old followed the light, found the Savior, and left Herod to his own devices.  Now, with peace, patience, gentleness and self-control as our guideposts, with light of love guiding our way, let us walk each other home by another way. Amen.