What Might You Sacrifice? ©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
April 14, 2019
…And last spring along the Back Shore swam right whales.
Early in May last year, a pod of right whales, a rather large percentage of the tiny number of right whales still living, swam up to Cape Ann and visited for a few days. I remember being taken by surprise, just taking the long way home along the Back Shore, and noticing lots of cars stopped by the side of the road, with people standing, looking out to sea, many with binoculars and cameras. And if there is one thing I have learned in my brief time living in Cape Ann it’s this: if you see a crowd standing around looking at something, it’s time to stop the car and join them. Ask questions later. So I got out, and joined the excited group watching the right whales swimming slowly along the shore. They were so close to us that binoculars were helpful, but not needed. They seemed curious, leisurely diving and surfacing almost within reach, as though they were as interested in us as we were in them.
And if a pod of right whales swam near you, what praises would come out of your mouth? What reverential gesture might you make?
In those moments I was moved almost to tears, awestruck, really, moved by the closeness of those incredible creatures, moved by the felt connection between species, and moved by the excitement and engagement of the people watching. Standing there with all those caring people, sharing binoculars, I felt hopeful; that we might be able to save the whales, and the earth, from the dire effects of climate change. And I thought, what can I do to help these creatures? Is there anything I could do from day to day that would be more important than to help preserve their home and their lives?
What might I be willing to sacrifice? To give up to create a healthier planet, to preserve this beautiful creation we have been given?
When I began designing this service this morning, I wondered how you would all feel about me talking about whales on Palm Sunday. This is not the usual topic on this day, this beginning of the observance of Easter Week in the Christian liturgical year. And so I need to back up a little, and explain my thinking on how together we can use this important week as it is intended – as a time for spiritual growth and transformation.
You see, this year, Earth Day, which is on April 22, falls a week from tomorrow, on the day after Easter. And I found that in thinking about all the Easter themes of hope, and rebirth, and resurrection, I simply couldn’t ignore Earth Day, that I was feeling called deeply to find a way to talk about what is happening to our creation, to our home, and to all of us sharing it together. But how to talk about this only on Easter Sunday, without grounding us and offering us a chance for contemplation and growth?
It is helpful if we think of Easter Week as a journey. It begins in triumph – Jesus enters Jerusalem to the shouts of praise – of hosanna! – of the gathered crowds. It is Passover, so the city is full of visitors, the temple is full of activity, and into this swirl of people and ritual rides this man, with people spreading palm fronds before him, honoring him for his ministry, and for his political activism.
For the Romans, and their local enforcers, were afraid of Jesus and his ability to attract and excite crowds and his ability to send coded messages about political change and rebellion. People were severely oppressed and taxed, and the authorities feared any voices that might incite peasants to revolt.
And so, as the week went on, the net tightened around Jesus, until late in the week he was arrested, put on trial, and then crucified. From triumphal entry to state-sanctioned murder, to be followed, some say, by resurrection.
What are we to make of this ancient story? How is it relevant for us? And where do the whales come in?
Think of the events of this week ahead as a metaphor for a time of spiritual transformation, and how quickly any of us can move from high to low. And we have talked before about how, when we are entering a difficult time in our lives, that it is during those times of challenge, of grief and despair, that we grow. When everything is going along just fine, we tend to be comfortable and complacent, and who can blame us? But it is during the hard times, the dark nights of the soul, the passage through the valley of the shadow, that we are most likely to find that our hearts and our spirits are opened, and we can be transformed.
Easter Sunday is all about joy, about having passed through the misery, the sadness, the death of the body or the spirit, and finding ourselves transformed, or reborn in some way. And to make Easter Sunday truly meaningful, and genuinely joyful, it’s important that we confront the trials: the night alone in the garden of Gethsemane, praying for courage to confront what is about to happen to us. Before we can rejoice, before we can sing Alleluias, in other words, we need to pass through places of despair, fear, depression, or death. Otherwise how can we emerge authentically into the joy of rebirth that Easter symbolizes?
Next Sunday is Easter. And the day after that is Earth Day. It is a day where we will celebrate our beautiful planet, and find hope in the efforts large and small of people to save it. But in order to be able to share in this truly joyfully, we are called to first confront the bleakness of how sick our home is, and how vulnerable. And we are called to confront our own action, or our lack of action, and how we can do better. Because friends, we must do better.
One of the messages of Palm Sunday and Easter Week is that of sacrifice. Many believe that God sacrificed God’s son, Jesus, using him to send a message of hope for eternal life to all people. Remember the words from the Gospel of John: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son…” Now, not everyone believes that interpretation. I don’t believe it. But I see Jesus as a radical who was willing to give up his life to try to save his people. He could have escaped his fate. He chose not to.
So this week I invite you to come along with me on a journey of contemplation, that I hope will lead us to action. I invite you to think seriously this week, as we travel along this metaphorical road from triumph to despair, to death and rebirth, about sacrifice.
And here is where the right whales come in. What might you be willing to sacrifice for the whales, and our neighbors, and for our earth?
Last Sunday our guest preacher, Laura Wagner from UU Mass Action, spoke about the sacrifices that are already being made. For the most part, these sacrifices are invisible to us here in the northeast United States. The impact of climate change so far is largely being experienced by poor people, particularly people of color in warmer climates. As time goes on, if climate change continues to unfold as we see it now, millions of people worldwide are likely to be displaced from their homes. Their ways of life, their homes and livelihoods, will be disrupted and destroyed. I think of people in southern Louisiana, the native people of the Houma Nation, and the poor rural Cajuns, whose land is disappearing right out from under them. The equivalent of a football field of land disappears into open water every 100 minutes. Since the 1930’s, Louisiana has lost over 2,000 square miles of land, an area approximately the size of the state of Delaware. (www.mississippiriverdelta.org) People are forced to leave and find new places to live, new communities, new ways to make a living. Communities are broken, and time-honored ways of life fade into distant memory.
We are faced with the prospect that because of more violent weather patterns, we will see this displacement worldwide. Where will all these people go, all those, particular the poor, who are forced to sacrifice for our addiction to fossil fuel? We use it, they are sacrificed for it.
How many will end up turned away at our borders, vilified as criminals, treated as less than human, through no fault of their own? They will be forced to sacrifice all they have.
We are also asking the other creatures who share our planet to sacrifice. Scientists believe that there are about 400 right whales remaining in the North Atlantic Ocean. According to the Center for Biological Diversity, perhaps 30 to 50 percent of the planet’s species may be extinct by the year 2050. The Center stated, “We’re currently experiencing the worst spate of species die-offs since the loss of the dinosaurs…” (“All the Species that Went Extinct in 2018, and Ones on the Brink for 2019,” Drew MacFarlane, January 3, 2019, accessed at www.weather.com.)
This is incredibly painful for us to hear, and so overwhelming to confront that we try to turn away. It’s been a cold spring so far. “Maybe,” we think, “things aren’t really so bad.”
But they are that bad, and other species and poor people of color are disproportionally being asked to bear the burden.
If a pod of right whales swam near you, what praises would come out of your mouth? What reverential gesture might you make? What might you sacrifice to help them survive? I have asked myself this ever since their visit to us. And every time there has been a news story about a dead whale found with many pounds of plastic in its stomach, I cringe. I vow to pick up trash, to try to find ways to buy and use less plastic. It feels like too little. I feel the guilt and shame each time I read about an innocent animal dying because of human carelessness.
If you look in your order of service, you’ll see an insert for you to take home. This week, I am inviting you all to join me in some soul-searching. Think of this as a journey, a chance to find our way out of our despair, our guilt, and our fear about what is happening to our home, and to look for ways forward. The insert offers a few suggestions to get us started. Maybe you will think about these and pick one, or a few, to work on. Perhaps this list will stimulate you to think of some additional actions you can take. But in this Holy Week, when we are called to walk through the valley of the shadow, to confront evil and death, and how we can rise up into new and better lives, I am asking each of us to spend time each day confronting our fear, our helplessness, and our resistance to change. Are you ready?
My hope for us all is that we can begin. I hope you will share your thoughts and ideas with me, and your hope as we move beyond fear and into action. I hope we can support each other as we take steps along this road.
May it be so,
Amen.
