Easter 6 A + 5.10.26 + The Paraclete and Sacred Resistance

 

M. Campbell-Langdell

All Saints, Oxnard

(Acts 17:22-31; Psalm 66:7-18; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21)

 

Today, our reading from the first epistle of Peter, Chapter 3, begins thus:

“Now, who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.”

Well, this is a doozy of a passage. Of course, it has a good message, but it has also done harm. Over the years, too many folks have interpreted it as advocating for putting up with suffering because that means you are on the right track, which can be correct at times. But that has also led to telling folks that she should and will suffer in ways that we deem unjust. And folks who are vulnerable are most likely to suffer.

This week at our clergy conference, we had a powerful presentation on Sacred Resistance in a time of rampant injustice, and our fearless leader, Francisco Garcia, encouraged us, like this passage does, to be bold. Not to be intimidated by the powers that be. To take action for change.

Drawing on the nonviolent resistance tradition of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., he taught us that some suffering is necessary to bring about change, but that it can be transformative. He also reminded us that we always choose love, which of course resonated with us. But the suffering part caused some debate.
One of my beloved colleagues stood up and spoke about the danger of telling folks, especially vulnerable populations, that they need to suffer to achieve a goal. If suffering is ever merited, it is only redemptive if we choose to take it on as a challenge to push for the needed change. It must not be inflicted upon any vulnerable group as the necessary price of change.
Some of you know the story of Jonathan Myrick Daniels. He was a white Episcopalian and seminarian who went to the South in the 60s to fight for freedom and voting rights. His work with the community drew some ire. And at one point, he was part of a group that got arrested. And following their release, a couple of black female activists and a white Roman Catholic priest, and he were trying to purchase a beverage, when someone barred the door of the convenience store. He went to shoot one of the girls, Ruby Sales. Daniels pushed Sales down and was himself killed. The Roman Catholic priest got the other woman to safety and was injured. Did they suffer? Indeed! But his suffering was transformative. And Jonathan Daniels chose it. He came to his dean, the Rev. Dr. Harvey Guthrie, whom some of you knew, and asked permission to go. God had called him in the middle of an Evening Prayer session as he heard the Magnificat. And he knew our Mother Mary and God were calling him to the South. They had work for him to do. It was born of suffering, but I am sure there was joy also.

Our siblings of another faith and philosophical tradition, Buddhists, say that suffering is at the root of human existence. I think it is helpful to note here that the epistle writer may also be suggesting that suffering is part of life, so our choice is to do what is right, to do what is wrong, or not to engage, which can sometimes be the more dangerous path.

So, if life includes suffering, what do we do? We try to love each other and show compassion. And we try to find joy anyway! Not despite the suffering or as a way to deny its existence, but as a way of living out our own acts of sacred resistance. Of engaging in resistance against the forces that would bring us down.

Speaking of sacred resistance, I have been thinking about the Advocate, also known as the Paraclete, the companion, the aide, the guide, the teacher, the comforter, and more. Jesus says here that he will not leave us alone, but will send the Spirit to accompany us. This week at the clergy conference, we heard that the Spirit is not just sent to comfort us and keep us complacent, but can, in fact, empower us to do good. We heard that when we follow the Spirit, we don’t always go where we thought we might, but we end up just where we want to be. We might be carried to a place that feels uncomfortable at times, but we will know we are meant to be there.

This week, upon my return, I attended a community listening session for the families of Black children who have experienced racism in the Oxnard School District. As a community member and faith leader, I showed up because it was important to show support from a white member of the community. To show that racism is unacceptable and that I want to be a part of the solution. I don’t deserve any accolades for this, as I was showing up to an assignment given by the Spirit. I share it because sometimes the Advocate asks you to do something different, something that may be out of your normal duties or comfort zone, and you may think about how to be willing to say yes.

An example of this is one of the members of our parish who went to the town hall of a

gubernatorial candidate this week and asked how he will care for the most vulnerable among us, including people with disabilities, immigrants, and more, if he is elected. This was outside the person’s comfort zone, but she, too, was responding to a call of the Spirit to speak on behalf of all those who find themselves particularly at risk in society.

This is how the world changes for the better. When we respond to the Advocate’s call to advocate for others. When we respond to the Comforter’s call to comfort the afflicted. Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of nonviolent direct action holds that the Arc of the Universe bends towards justice. I heard this week that Justice is what love looks like in public. How are we showing the world some love?
Lastly, this is a day that ideally should be all about love. We celebrate the best of what the mothers or mother figures in our lives have taught us, the love they have shared. We try to forgive them even when they did not always show us love. We grieve those mother figures who have left us, and we grieve with mothers who grieve or those who grieve infertility. We lift all the bonus parents, single parents, and the aunties, gunkles, and all who help out. All the members of our villages.

If justice is what love looks like in public, I add that public declarations of love are some of the most radical things we can do in this painful and divided moment in our nation. As such, we rejoice as we celebrate with Melissa and Salvador Moreno-Salas in the Spanish service, and bless their love. Life may not be without its sufferings, but they have found joy together, and for that we rejoice. We ask that God bless them with many years of love, the ability to abide together in peace, and the strength to alleviate each other’s suffering and to elevate their and your family’s joy!

Let us love one another as Christ has loved us, and rejoice with those who rejoice, even as we take action to alleviate the suffering of the world.

Amen.