We build the wall to keep us free? A sermon for August 1, by Susan Daughtry

[Click here for today's readings]

"And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have barns full of food and money; relax! Eat! Drink! Be merry!"

Oh, the stories we tell ourselves. 

All the time, we tell ourselves stories about who we are and why we do things. We tell ourselves stories about what is important to us, about how we're going to pay the bills this month, about how we're going to lose 20 pounds. We tell ourselves stories about how the things in our past justify the way we behave now. We tell ourselves stories, too, about why we don't have to be afraid. Much of the time, the stories we tell ourselves are stories of comfort. They are stories that keep the lid on our fear and anxiety, or that justify our actions which might otherwise be questionable.

My dad calls this ‘reading your own press.' Telling yourself a story that is convenient, that justifes what you're doing.

In the Gospel reading we just heard,  Jesus is talking about a man who  literally tells himself a story. He says to his soul, "SOUL! You have barns full of food and money. So now you can relax! Eat! Drink! Enjoy life! You have nothing to fear." The man in the story does, in fact, already have enough. He has so much that the barns he had already built to store his excess grain have become too small, so he's going to tear them down and build bigger, better ones.

It makes you wonder how many times he's had to say to his soul, "Soul! You can relax now! There's plenty!" And yet the anxiety is still there. He still has to tell himself this story about having enough and being in control.

Jesus, on the other hand, is telling himself (and us) a very different story.  He has ‘set his face toward Jerusalem,' according to the text-he began his ministry in the rural paradise that is Galilee, but now he's traveling toward the capital city. He's headed away from the small rural towns and into the desert and toward this city and its Temple, knowing already that he's going to face death there. He's teaching all along the way.  And all along the way, there's this dialogue about the relative value of money and God, the relative value of security and God.

Jesus says, Your life does not consist in the material stuff you have. When you die, whose will it be? So it is with those who store up wealth for themselves but are not rich toward God.

There are these two competing stories: If you just have enough-money, food, security-you'll be safe and you can stop worrying. And then on the other hand:  Life is about more than wealth; and if you don't watch out, what you have will get between you and your own soul.

When you speak to your soul, which of these stories do you tell?

Is there more security, for you, in having enough stored up safe behind a wall?-or in sharing enough?

When Jesus tells this story, he's talking about wealth and material possessions. And even though we enlightened postmodern folks have the classic tales of Scrooge and the Grinch, this habit continues to follow us. We think that if we have enough-in our retirement accounts, in our homes, in our jobs-that we can forestall some vague but threatening future. There's something about money for many of us that represents security, and if we can just have enough stored away in our own private barns, we will be safe when disaster comes. And so from that vantage point, it feels like a huge risk to open up the barn and give significantly to your church or any other cause.

But there are other ways that we find personal security. Relationships that we hold on to because they are familiar, even if they are destructive, can be barns that we build around ourselves to keep from having to face the world alone. The personal walls that we put up to keep from having to be truly known-to keep from being vulnerable or really loving other people-those things keep us very, very safe. And from that vantage point of fear and self-protection, it is a huge risk to try toface the world without those walls. And the question is, is the risk worth it? Is what you gain in love worth the risks that love takes?

And you can ask the question the other way too -- Is what you gain in security worth the love you have to give up?

I just got back a few days ago from a two-week pilgrimage in the Holy Land. St. George's College runs a course called ‘The Palestine of Jesus,' that takes Anglican and Episcopal folks from around the world on a tour of Israel and the West Bank, going to sites mentioned in the bible. It was a profoundly moving trip. Seeing the places that are the literal backdrop to the story of Jesus was amazing and eye-opening, to say the least. And I have to say also that  walking around in the political context there was devastating. I found myself profoundly ashamed that I had to go all the way to Israel/Palestine in order to feel outraged at some of the things happening there.

Over two weeks of touring in and around Jerusalem, we got to see the land immediately closest to the city on the West Bank side-where the biblical towns of Bethlehem and Bethany are. And what becomes clear very quickly is that Israel is building a bigger and bigger barn around Jerusalem. Until 1967, the city of Jerusalem was split down the middle, with one side belonging to Israel and the other side under the protection of Jordan. After the war in 1967, Israel occupied the West Bank, and annexed the other half of Jerusalem so that the most ancient and most sacred parts of the city would be under Israeli control. Since 2002, Israel has been building a literal wall to separate Israel proper from the West Bank, the ostensible goal being to keep terrorists out. The official term for it in Israel is the ‘security fence.' But it is not a fence. It's a huge concrete wall with razor wire on top, running all the way around the West Bank.

But the line between Israel's property and the West Bank is not always very clear.

 Israeli settlements in the West Bank land, which are illegal according to the UN, extend the physical area that ‘belongs' to Jews out into land that did not belong to Israel when it was founded. These settlements are established with thousands of residents, who have special roads only they are allowed to use, to get them from Jerusalem into the settlement safely. All of this then justifies pushing the West Bank security wall out further into Palestinian territory. Building a bigger and bigger barn.

In doing this, the story Israel tells itself is that they need strategic military control of the hilltops. They tell themselves that it's legal because the Palestinian leadership refused to negotiate when the state of Israel was being established, and now that Israel is occupying that territory, it's theirs for the taking. They tell themselves that their affluent settlements create job opportunities for the impoverished Palestinians nearby.  The story allows them to feel justified in building a bigger and bigger ‘barn' of safety around the holy city of Jerusalem.

But the consequences of these settlements are dire-they take the land and precious water that would otherwise belong to real Palestinian families. They create more and more resentment and distrust in what remains of the Peace Process. And the fallout from the settlements only adds to the list of human rights violations that has already been compiled. Members of St. George's staff told us stories of women losing their newborn babies when they go into a difficult labor and rush to the security wall checkpoint in order to beg for admission into Israel to go to the hospital...and then are denied entry because they don't have the right paperwork. Laborers who do have paperwork have to queue up at 5 am in order to get through the checkpoint lines in time to make it to a full day's work and back before they have to be out of Israel for the day. The security wall has caused the demolition of Palestinian homes and separated families from the olive groves they have tended for hundreds of years.

The Torah, the most important part of Scripture in Judaism, commands that we should protect the stranger and take care of orphans and widows. In talking about God's law, the famous first-century rabbi, Rabbi Hillel, said, "That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. The rest is commentary. Go and study it." The idea of human rights is fundamental to Judaism. But in the service of their security, the military leadership of Israel is violating their own ethical code. It is shameful.

The violence that caused Israel to be afraid was and is real. But Israel will never be able to build a wall big enough to keep their fear at bay. With that approach, they will always have to keep building bigger and bigger walls in order to tell themselves that they can relax.  

In Jesus' story about the man with the barn, he's storing up grain. Grain is not meant, ultimately, to be stored. It's meant to be eaten, or used to grow more grain. And, from a 21st century vantage point, Jerusalem is not meant to be a city that's saved for one people. It's a city whose very life comes from the vibrant intersections of many, many Jewish, Muslim, and Christian traditions. All these pilgrims come from all over the world to pray in a place that has been holy to their religion for centuries. And the locals we spoke to, people of all three faiths, were adamant that the life of the city comes from the pilgrims. Economically, religious tourism is the heartbeat of the city. And spiritually, it provides an incredible place to see three religions attempting to coexist in the same small space. In that holy city, there is a unique opportunity to see what a tolerant and diverse society could look like. Jerusalem, because it represents the intersection of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian faiths, and of all the cultures that celebrate those faiths - because of this, Jerusalem is perhaps the only place in the world with the power to show us all how to live together, how to love each other, and how to celebrate our differences. It could be a model of true human flourishing, of justice and peace. That is in fact how the Bible characterizes ‘the new Jerusalem,' the ideal city in God's kingdom. A place of justice, peace, life, and beauty. A city built on love, rather than on fear.

You can put a bigger barn around Jerusalem to keep people from blowing up buses, but ultimately that barn will be torn down. Ultimately, the city isn't meant to be saved. It's meant to be shared.

I don't have a solution to all of that. But I do believe this: God is big enough for all of us. And your life is big enough for God already. You do not need to build a bigger barn. You do not need to build any more walls to keep risk at bay. Whatever it is that you are afraid of may be very real. But it is not worth separating yourself from love.

So, the question remains: When you speak to your soul, which of these stories do you tell?

Is there more security, for you, in having enough stored up?-or in sharing enough?

FOR MORE: Click here for a blog post from Susan's journey.

AS AN ADDED NOTE: Check out the libretto from Anais Mitchell's HADESTOWN, sp. the song 'Why We Build the Wall.' Thanks to Vernon Simmons for reminding me of this connection.