delivered 25 January 2009
by Rev. Pam Kerr
Barack Obama's inauguration speech, 20 Jan. 2009
“We can do it. But we must change. And we must do it together.”
The world hung on Barak Obama’s words as he gave his inaugural speech as President of the United States this week. Because people the world over are tired of the old order. It is, on a much larger scale, what we saw happening in Australia with the election of ‘Kev 07′. Like first-century Israel, people are waiting for a Messiah.
And to that little, oppressed people Israel, Jesus came, proclaiming the coming of the kingdom and calling for repentance. Centuries earlier, God had called Jonah to take the message of repentance to the people of Nineveh. It’s a funny little story, meant to make us laugh – at Jonah and at ourselves. He didn’t want to be God’s messenger – he turned and went in the opposite direction. When a storm struck his boat, he preferred to jump into the sea and risk drowning than to arrive in Nineveh. Then there is the improbable story of him being swallowed by the big fish and regurgitated just where God needs him to be! So, he can’t escape any longer, and makes his speech – amounting in Hebrew to just five words! “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” No great oratory here! But the people heeded the message. And Jonah? Jonah sulked! How dare God treat these people kindly! God turned the people round despite the messenger. The parody is meant to let us see our own faults, to laugh at ourselves, and to laugh with joy at the unstoppable grace of God. God’s grace will not be defeated by our fears and prejudices.
Last night we were at an anniversary party for some friends of ours. There was an air of euphoria as people spoke of Obama’s inauguration and the speech he made. Obama himself was much more realistic. We are in a mess. We will only get out of it if people are prepared to change. The old way of defending democracy isn’t working. The old way of running the economy isn’t working. He acknowledged that he can’t save the country alone! That Americans must work with him to bring about the change which they see promised in his election. Like so many, my heart warmed as I listened to him. But I also felt a great heaviness – what are we laying on the shoulders of this man in such critical times!
Jesus came at just such a critical time: Palestine was under the oppressive rule of Rome. Their own leaders seemed more intent on clinging on to their own power than on the good of their people. Bands of zealots – today we would probably call them terrorists, or if we were more kindly disposed, freedom fighters – roamed the country, and we suspect many wanted Jesus to take up with them. Into this situation, Jesus came boldly declaring that the kingdom of God was near, and that therefore the people must change their ways, repent, start living a new life.
The way Mark tells the story is intriguing. Matthew and Luke point us to Jesus’ credentials: born of the line of David, as prophets foretold; visited by scholars from afar who bowed in awe before him. Mark says little about Jesus’ origins, except that he came from Nazareth, an obscure village. And he begins his ministry, not in the centre of power, Jerusalem, but in Galilee, notorious rather than famous, out on the edge, despised by the southerners around Jerusalem. Here is someone who is right outside the seat of power, declaring a new beginning. And no sooner has he made his grand announcement than he goes off wandering by the sea with these very ordinary workers. But his effect on them is so profound that they are willing to drop everything – to risk their economic livelihood, to risk their family ties – to stake their lives on Jesus.
And what is Jesus’ promise to them? Simply that he will make them fishers of people. We often read that as if they were simply to go and make converts, and it sounds rather nice. But the image of fishing in the time of the prophets was used as an image for judgment. Jeremiah used it as a symbol of God’s judgment on Israel. Ezra used it to express judgment on the rich and powerful. Jesus is calling his followers to the radical task of changing people’s attitudes and their way of life.
In my first parish, the elders wanted me to close the church on the Sunday nearest ANZAC Day, so that we could join the RSL service. (We eventually reached a compromise – we would have our worship early so that those who wanted could go on to the other service.) But in the course of the discussion, I declared that our task was to proclaim the Gospel. “Oh,” said the Session Clerk, “If you proclaimed the Gospel, no one would come!” I was somewhat offended that he seemed not to think that I tried to proclaim the Gospel every Sunday! But he unwittingly had it right. This is hard stuff. No call to go on with business as usual. But a call for a complete re-evaluation of the way we live our lives.
I was hoping that Emily or one of the others who had attended NCYC might have been able to share with us today some of the stories they had heard of people living this life of radical discipleship. But it’s a holiday weekend. So I’ll tell you of one young woman, whom some of you will remember. Jessica used to live in the Indigenous Hospitality House. Now she lives in a community house in Collingwood where they offer hospitality to homeless young people, some of them addicted to drugs or alcohol. Last time I met her she was worn out, but determined that to follow Jesus meant spending her life with the most marginalized people. Last year she went with a group of others and laid her life on the line in protest against the Talisman Sabre joint military exercises in Queensland.
In Mark’s gospel, not everyone who decided to follow Jesus left home. But they were called to live differently – to do things like caring for each other, sharing their possessions, and refusing to worship the powers that ruled their world.
As we celebrate Australia Day tomorrow, what might it mean if we lived this radically different life? If we were bold enough to utter a word of judgment on those things in our country that are life-denying: policies that still raise suspicion against foreigners; policies that favour the rich and leave those on pensions struggling; we could go on. But we need to remember the story of Jonah: let’s laugh ruefully at our own prejudices and fears to act boldly as signs of God’s kingdom. And let’s thank God that our weak efforts can’t overcome God’s grace.
