Remembering Paris
November 15, 2015

The sermon I would have given at an interfaith service remembering Paris:

Psalm 34:11-14

Come O children, listen to me;

I will teach you the fear of the Lord.

What man is there who desires life

and loves many days, that he may see good?

Keep your tongue from evil

and your lips from speaking deceit.

Turn away from evil and do good;

seek peace and pursue it.

In the Jewish community we sing these words. The melody uplifts, spiritually inspiring. But who lives this way?

Many Americans say they "fear the Lord." I am not certain precisely their meaning. For some recently it's been about gay and lesbian rights. For some it's been about Christmas. For some it's about welcoming the stranger and for others it's been about labeling the stranger as "other," and making sure they don't come to live next door.

The psalm links "fear of the Lord," with doing "good." Both laudable goals for the public. and yet, the psalmist does not start with the public. The psalmist starts inside, with the self.

"Keep your tongue from eil

and your lips from speaking deceit.

Turn away from evil and do good;

seek peace and pursue it."

These words, we have seen in the last few days, require courage. They require the kind of courage that enables men and women to risk their lives for the right thing. It's the kind of courage that enables soldiers to rush the beach on D-Day, June 6, 1944. It's the kind of courage that enables a soldier to throw him/herself on a hand grenade and to save his/her buddies. It's the kind of courage that enables a teacher to approach a student who holds a handgun and risk his life to save that student's life and talking to him about his fears.

"Keep your tongue from evil." The Torah teaches taht all human beings are created in a single image, and that is the image of God. Despite appearances, the messiah may be sitting next to you, waiting for a kindly word as her/his cur to announce God's plan of redemption. In other words: accepting every person as God's image requires the courage to live among the poor and the rich, among every color, among the sick and the well, among the young and the old, among Christians and Jews and Muslims and Sikhs and Hindus and Buddhists and Jains and atheists and Satanists and and and ... and to listen equally to all. Never to blaspheme by speaking ill of any person, but to treat each and every image of God as equals who have rights bestowed by God.

Keeping your tongue from evil requires enormous introspection and self-understanding, because prejudices run deep. Keeping your tongue from evil demands dialogue with your neighbor so that you do not fear his/her differences. Keeping your tongue from evil demands justice where you witness injustice, regardless of the immediate price yo may pay, for we never know the pernicious consequences of our silence.

"Keep your lips from deceit." The poetic parallel to keeping you tongues from evil, but with an added admonition: Not only may you not speak falsely; but you may not deceive with half-truths. Do not claim you are in favor of immigration and proclaim this is not the time; too dangerous. Do not proclaim racial equality is a goal but not right now. Those words unhook you form the inconvenient immediate consequences of the truths you proclaim. They make truth claims into falsehoods. The only time is now. You shall neither lie nor deceive with partial truths that hide your fears and make you posture courage.

Turn from evil and do good/Seek peace and pursue it. Two parts of a poetic parallel: equivalent meanings. To turn from evil and do good must mean to seek peace in every moment, not only to seek but to pursue actively. It's inconvenient to welcome new immigrants, to get to know them, to provide jobs and acclimate them to their new surroundings; but you must "Seek peace and pursue it." The problem in France is not immigrants. The problems is that they were never accepted as French and integrated. It's inconvenient to settle land disputes and accommodate the claims of the "other." But God says, "Seek peace and pursue it," or accept the consequences. You say, "I believe that this is my land, and that you can have rights, but it's my land." And God contradicts, "Seek peace and pursue it."

Thanksgiving is 2 weeks away; Hanukkah 3; Christmas is a month after that; Kwanza follows immediately. We will discuss peace, and retire to our land allotments, our portions of the world; our homes, our domiciles; and we will live in comfort. The prophet says, "Let every man live under his vine and under his fig tree, and none shall make him afraid." But we are afraid. We are afraid someone will take away our vine and fig tree. W are afraid someone will take away our family and our happiness. We are afraid we will lose what we have worked so hard to build. But we don't ask is someone took away the vine and fig tree, or the family, of the "other."

Because the Psalmist says, "If you desire life, you will pursue peace, without deceit," peace requires honest reflection, how we did not seek peace and pursue, and the consequences of our actions.

We are suffering the results of exclusion, of a world of haves and have nots, where we seek to protect what we have, and to determine what you can have of the remainder. Whether it's Syrian refugees, or Palestinians and Israelis, or Americans: blacks and whites and Native Americans. We want ours, and will share what's left with you, maybe.

Keep your tongues from evil, and your lips from deceitful speech.

Turn away from evil and do good. Seek peace and pursue it.

The Psalmist knew it takes every ounce of courage we can muster, becasue it's the battle God set us up to fight, just to see how we'd do.

How are yo doing? What makes you afraid? And will you share, and invite the "other" in, not only seek peace, but pursue it without deceit. Then you will fear the Lord and the Lord alone.