What We Know

A sermon preached at Faith Epsicopal Church, September 4, 2005.

This week we have all watched in horror as the worst possible scenario has played out in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Accusations, explanations and excuses have swirled around the airwaves like the increasing fetid waters in the streets of New Orleans. Our reading from Ezekiel today sounds eerily prophetic. Every community is charged with the task to appoint sentinels to see the danger, sound the trumpet and warn the people. Doppler radar did its job – the images of Katrina as it approached the coast were clear enough. The storm was a monster – its swirling motion filled the Gulf of Mexico. Hurricanes are sociopathic killers – they have no feelings, no remorse, no guilt. It came, it destroyed and then it moved on. By Wednesday it was soaking the midwest.

There is much that we don’t know at this point. Once people are all rescued, where will they all be? Will they ever be able to go home again? Can and will the city be rebuilt and if so, how long will it take? What will the cost be and will our overall economy be changed? Do we have the collective will to do and pay for all that is necessary? What lasting affect will this moment and these images produce? We know none of these things.

So let’s look at what we do know. We know that God, the creator of heaven and earth, is a loving God and does not rain down suffering on innocents as retribution. Human affairs, societal decisions and the raw power of nature cause destruction and suffering but it is not God’s will. Contrary to the statement made by an organization called Repent America and the American Family Association, this was not God’s punishment for homosexuality and Mardi Gras. The Bible tells us over and over again that God’s priorities lie with care and concern for the poor and the defenseless. God’s calls for justice for them far outweigh any divine interest in human sexuality. That’s an American obesssion. God’s statements about pouring wrath on various nations are almost always tied to idolatry (the worship of things other than God) and how their poorest and most vulnerable citizens are treated. Right now, God is more concerned with those who are at risk from the dangers of the flooded city, starvation, thirst, violence, and feelings of abandonment. We know that God cares about this because God came to live and die as one of us, to suffer with us so that our suffering always happens simultaneously here and in the heart of God. New Orleans might not look like Calvary, but it is. What is done to the least among us is done to Jesus.

We also know about humanity. As the veneer of civilization has been stripped away, humanity’s brokenness has been revealed in shocking fashion. The evil that lurks in the heart of humankind was turned loose, armed with guns and ammunition looted from Walmart. We know that this lies within us. Fear can reduce people to the lowest form of behavior. Pack mentality whips up a frenzy of rage and control is gone. The image of God within that makes us more than mere mammals is squashed so far down that it cannot be expressed. The stories from the darkness in the hospitals and the SuperDome are heartbreaking.

And yet, into the midst of this misery ride knights on shining steeds like the Mayor of San Antonio. I heard him interviewed and he said that the residents of San Antonio had decided that they would do what ever they needed to do. He said that if they were asked to take 25,000 people they would do it and find a way to share what they had. Places would be found in the public schools for children. When asked “will you have room for them, won’t that be a hardship, he said “of course it will be hard but we’ll find a way to make it work.” Accomodations, beginning with a closed military base will be made available along with medical care and help to rebuild lives. The people of San Antonio and all of the people who have so far donated millions prove that there is, within the heart of humanity, the spark that lifts us up and out of ourselves. We give and we we rebuild and go on. The human spirit is resilient beyond measure. No matter how grim and rotting the present may be the ember of hope is the most combustible thing in all creation. When people rescued from their rooftops are cared for and welcomed and treated as brothers and sisters, they will be able to see into the future.

What else is do we know in this moment. We know compassion and righteous anger on someone else’s behalf. As we saw the images of the crowd outside the New Orlean’s Convention Center one stark reality was that all of the faces were black. Most of the people who were there were people who are too poor to leave the city. There is no doubt that some had foolishly thought to “ride out” the storm and it proved to be a serious error in judgment. But most of those left in New Orleans were those without the means to evacuate. If you don’t own a car or have the money to buy gas or a ticket how can you leave? Some of the shame of this situation will be that the only option given to these brothers and sisters of ours was to go to the SuperDome. In our community of two car garages and multiple credit cards, it may be hard to imagine but we must. And we must take very seriously the reality that these people did not choose to be in such squalor – it was their only option. There but for the grace of God are we. Let their plight be a sentinel for racial and economic justice for the ones with the least.

Offers of aid have been streaming in from all of the countries that we outspend every year. Hopefully we know humility and gratitude. Even Jamaica – a tragically poor island nation has offered help. For all of our efforts to seal ourselves off from the dangers of the world – we know vulnerability. Vulnerability is not really such a bad thing because it makes you aware of your need for others. We need our global neighbors. Not just to help rebuild after this hurricane but to recreate our world based on the bonds of humanity and kinship and love. It’s good to admit that we need others. And it is good for others to be able to help us.

The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina has given the sheltered American public a view of suffering that happens on a regular basis around the world. Up to now, we have been able to shield our eyes from it but no longer. Prejudice and racism have been exposed in our living rooms – the kind that allowed us to ignore Rwanda, Darfur and Niger, we can’t pretend anymore that it isn’t there. The horrible conditions that people must endure when there are forced from their homes by catastrophe are no longer something that happens to unknown people half a world away. It happened in the Big Easy; it happened here. For us to truly learn from this we must begin to feel that when it happens somewhere out there– it truly happens here.

This week has reminded us that absolute security is a fairy tale. Being alive is risky business. Katrina reminded us that even with ample warning, massive destruction and suffering can and will happen. We know that, for heaven’s sake, we live in earthquake central and the land of mudslides and wildfires. But what we know in all of this is that when we suffer, God is in suffering. God expects us to take care of one another and to be willing to face our shortcomings and errors in judgment with courage and honesty. We have a ways to go live up to that expectation. The work begins as we decide to do better. When we do that, God is glad to be in the midst of us.