It is quite early in Phoenix.
I’ve been working on my sermon for Sunday.
Soon, I’ll finish packing my bags, check out of the hotel, they’ve said I may leave my bags there, and then go off to the demonstration.
I really think Arizona’s SB 1070 something wicked. It plays upon fears, some real, most imagined about the undocumented among us. And out of that fear does some bad things to the illegal immigrants, to our law enforcement officers, and to our American soul.
I feel strongly compelled to stand up and to speak out. Today I stand up. Tomorrow I speak out.
And in the meantime I find myself thinking of various things, but particularly the prophetic voice much valued in the liberal religious tradition.
In that regard let me tell a brief story. It really is true, although I’ve jumbled details a bit so people don’t have to be unduly embarrassed. It was a clergy gathering. The young minister visibly shook as he told his peers about what he had done. “I thought and meditated and prayed,” He told us. “And finally I decided I needed to deliver a prophetic sermon to my congregation. I felt in my bones they needed to hear it.” He paused, it felt trying to find that place between humility and pride, a difficult spot to land, no doubt. He then said, “When I finished, the gave me a standing ovation.” He was met with silence, not unkind, but silent. It was a gathering of clergy. Most had heard most variations on the homiletic endeavor and what follows. Out of that silence an old hand said, and I think she meant it as kindly as possible. “You know,” she said. “If they applauded it wasn’t prophetic.”
The majority of my gang, the folk I serve in Providence, are in favor of what I am doing.
So, I’m in some danger of that applause.
But I’m trying to be clear, to call us to our better natures, and who knows, maybe I’ll disappoint…
And maybe that won’t be a bad thing…
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