The Legacy of Heavy Burdens

July 5, 2020 5 Pentecost, Year A The Rev. Mark Pendleton Christ Church, Exeter The Legacy of Heavy Burdens Sometimes prayer comes our way at the right time when we need it most. It may be one of those simple mantras that rolls out as we breathe: holy, peace, Jesus, gratitude. And it come to us in the form of inspired Scripture. I have always heard the last verses of today’s gospel as prayer. I turn to them again and again when I’m feeling overwhelmed, tired, confused or discouraged. When there is more chaos than order, more injustice than compassion, and more uncertainty over clarity. Sometimes I feel as if I might wear out the effectiveness of the words if I go to them too much. Then I remind myself: God does not work like that. Not the God in whom I believe. There is an infinite stockpile of grace and assurance to be found. Love never gets extinguished. We are known and never forgotten. With this in mind, I hand over to this God all the worries and burdens of the day because I take Jesus at his word – who invites us to hand over and let go. It is at times the only way we stop carrying the world on our shoulders: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30 The great abolitionist Frederick Douglas echoed these gospels words in his historic speech in Rochester, New York on July 4, 1852. (The entire speech was reprinted in yesterday’s Portsmouth Herald). If he were only to speak words of benefit, gratitude and blessing from “your independence to us” he said: “then would my task be light and my burden easy and delightful.” I hope we keep this prayer invitation in mind as we consider the impact of collective fatigue, challenge, and heaviness in our world at this moment in our lives. In the Gospel, we see Jesus out and about teaching and preaching. “Let anyone with ears listen!” he said. And then the rebuke for those who chose not to listen and failed to see. "But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another.” They were like children playing games, but not in a good way. It was a harsh critique: they failed to see who John the Baptist was and they accused Jesus himself for hanging out with the wrong crowd – overeating and drinking too much. (Matthew 11:16-19). It was if he were saying: I’m right here and you cannot see. I’m talking to you the flesh but you do not hear. How would our generation compare? We know the whole story: life, death and resurrection. Can you and I see and know what God is up to and saying to us today about our lives and the events and choices that are impacting and shaping our world? We have a fascination and compulsion, I think, with naming and describing whole groups of people. We love to over-generalize. Especially when it comes to generations, famously labeling the Greatest Generation, the Silent Generation, the Baby Boomers, Generation X, Millennials and Gen Z. We classify whole groups of people who were born and live through unique periods of history: times of war, peace, unrest, prosperity, innovation, hardship, distrust, anxiety and uncertainty. 2 A question for us to think through this morning: What may be right before us in our lives and that we are not seeing? What are the cries that we might not be hearing? I mentioned last week how I was struggling in my preparation to preach to try not to comment on the events that are constantly swirling around us. My thinking has been: if I get tired of hearing my preaching voice refer to these things -- how weary must you the congregation be? Yet I struggled again this week. I think something real is happening that will define us in ways that we may not yet know. Case in point: a New York Times headlines caught my eye this week: “Black Lives Matter May Be the Largest Movement in U.S. History” with over a half a million people having turned out in nearly 550 places across the United States. For the first time in a long time even hard-nosed cynics are saying that real change is unfolding. Eyes are being opened in a different way to see how the history of our nation has impacted how we live and prosper and struggle. There is movement and that much-talked-about arc in the moral universe is bending ever so slightly towards justice right in front of us. What are we seeing? What might we be missing? The July 4th holiday is one of those rare times that we celebrate the ideals that gave birth to a nation. With the release of the Broadway show Hamilton now streaming online – I admit I have not yet seen it – we have a pantheon of our so-called “Founding Fathers.” New Hampshire has named whole mountains after them: Mount Franklin, Mount Monroe, Mount Washington, Mount Jefferson, Mount Adams, Mount Madison. History and fate brought these men together and independence from Great Britain was secured only after a war between the colonies and the mother country. If you might be thinking this preacher has veered a bit too far into secular history, yes that could be true, and I could mention that Independence Day is considered a major feast according to our Book of Common Prayer. Many of the founders were members of the Church of England, which after the war changed its name to The Episcopal Church. As I prepared this sermon on the July 4th holiday, I admit to have taken a lengthy detour into some family history and genealogy my sister had researched a few years back. I looked deep into my family tree and found the last entry on my father’s side. Seven Generations. The name: Edmund Pendleton, born in Virginia in 1743. On a lark, I did a search of his name on the internet. If my sister’s research is correct, that Edmund was the heir to a very famous uncle. Here is a picture. 3 The uncle, also named Edmund, represented Virginia at the 1st Continental Congress along with George Washington and Patrick Henry. I have to admit that I was stunned and quit convinced at the same time it couldn’t be true. I kept searching and found one entry that said that some of Edmund’s ideas were later incorporated into 4 the Declaration of Independence by Thomas Jefferson. All good so far. I had hit the genealogy sleuthing jackpot. And then this entry caught my eye. “Pendleton did not grant freedom to any slaves in his will, unlike George Washington who similarly died without direct descendants.” I know I should not have been surprised or shocked by this legacy. And as if that were not enough, I was reminded of another branch in that family tree that my sister mentioned when she did her research and out came Richard L. Page, a brigadier general in the Confederate Army during the Civil War and a maternal cousin to, you guess it, General Robert E. Lee. And there ends my ancestor show and tell for the day – my distant, decorated and conflicted family heritage. And then I asked myself the question I offered earlier. What may be right before us in our lives and that we are not seeing? What are the cries that we might not be hearing? I had not thought too much about the post-Civil War era monuments that were coming down in Richmond and around the country – mostly in the South. I had not thought too much about how and when they were put there. But I suspected that for far too long many who walked under their long shadows and knew exactly when they were put there and why. They were not put there to inspire, but to remind those with less power who had the upper hand. Who had the power to rewrite history. Some may disagree about how these monuments are coming down – whether they should be preserved, destroyed or left alone – but as far back as the ancient Israelites made an idol of a golden calf in the wilderness instead of worshiping the living God that gave them freedom – statues are powerful symbols. If CNN comes a calling, as a newly minted ancestor to Confederate generals, I say: take them down! Take them all down. A lengthy history plaque will not do. The time is different. What is emerging right before us is a new way forward from a bloody and conflicted past. I am sure my family distant legacy is not unique. Yet as some things get brought down, other voices can be lifted up. The Franciscan priest Richard Rohr has written that the “great task of religion is to keep you fully awake, alert and conscious. Then you will know whatever it is that you need to know. When you are present, you will know the Presence.” He recalls Jesus reminding his followers to “stay awake” in the Garden of Gethsemane. The events and times we are living through are not times to close our eyes. Yes, there is weariness and the burden of history is heavy – much heavier for some. And the rest we are promised will come. We can learn from the one who is gentle and humble in heart. And we will find rest for our souls. Rohr sums up what he calls the sacrament of the present moment: The purest form of spirituality is to find God in what is right in front of you. That is our work.