Gospel: Luke 13:1-9
Grace and Peace to you from God our Loving Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer, Amen
Fifty Muslim folks were killed in their houses of worship last week in New Zealand by a white supremacist. Do you think they committed sins worse than all other Muslims? Eleven Jewish folks in Pittsburgh were killed in their house of worship in October by another white supremacist. Do you think they committed sins worse than all other Jewish folks? Nine black folks in South Carolina were killed in their house of worship a few years ago by a third white supremacist. Do you think they committed sins worse than all other black folks?
Last week, Pastor Andrew lamented with you about this latest attack in New Zealand, and somehow, in the midst of all of this hatred, God’s promise to steward all God’s people through it, in the name of love for our neighbors. Because the people I mentioned just now, were all worshipping the same God of Abraham. All of these people were senselessly taken while they were in their respective houses of worship, the places of peace, solace, and they should quite honestly, be true sanctuaries.
My allusion to the Gospel lesson comes on the heels of horrific news. Pastor Andrew had to change his sermon at the last minute to bring some sense to senselessness. I preached on Reformation Sunday at the local Methodist Church, and had to change my sermon at the last minute due to a white supremacist. When I preached at my home church in Morris a few years back, I had to change my sermon at the last minute because of a white supremacist. News like these horrific examples disrupts life as we know it. Of course these events disrupt life as they know it for the victims and their families, and for preachers to not respond to these events would be a misuse of their office.
The allusion to today’s Gospel lesson is a way to bring home that the events that Jesus references to the crowd, would be events that they would have had on their mind. Jesus asks them if these victims committed sins more than every other person like them, and then tells the people to repent or they will suffer like they did.
I didn’t take it that far. But I think if we as (mostly) white people don’t actively fight against racism in our own lives, if we don’t actively condemn and enact measures that protect against such injustices, that we may foster such ideas in our own communities.
Now, I’m not from this community. I was born in Saint Cloud, where the town is occasionally known as “White Cloud”, where the state’s second largest Muslim population resides, and has recently seen an uptick of trucks driving around with Confederate flags waving in the back. Where a retired Jewish rabbi was called in by the state to teach at my alma mater, Saint Cloud State University, and to influence a community away from antisemitism. Where this retired Jewish rabbi convinced the local Catholic diocese to finally remove swastikas around the Cathedral that had been there for over 70 years. I was born there and attended undergrad there, but I grew up on the western prairies of Donnelly, about 30 miles from where your own pastor grew up.
I grew up in Donnelly, but went to school in Morris. Morris is a small college town with a long history of agriculture. The University of Minnesota Morris was founded on the foundation of the West Central School of Agriculture, which in turn was founded on the campus of an American Indian boarding school. Native American students to this day can attend UMM tuition-free because of this history. Because of Minnesota’s own history of white supremacy. Because of Minnesota’s own claim to white supremacy history with the largest mass execution in American history of 38 Dakota men in 1862.
The western prairies of Minnesota are home to mostly descendants of Scandinavian and German immigrants, with a more recent influx of Latina, Hmong and Somali immigrants to larger towns with industry. These more recent immigrants are, more often than not, met with fear and misunderstanding, as if the white folks forget that their ancestors were once immigrants as well. In the last few years, there have been helpful resources given out to some rural communities, like Lutheran Social Services’ “My Neighbor is Muslim” to help the local populations learn about their new neighbors. Of the recent immigrants to Minnesota, as in the last hundred years, immigrants from Mexico and Central America have been here the longest, since the 1940s when the young Scandi-Germanic men of Minnesota were drafted and farm help was still needed on the farms.
In the last 20 years or so, industrial farms have grown exponentially due to technological improvements and smaller family farm populations, so likewise family farms are less and less numerous these days, while huge corporate farms are importing laborers from Mexico and Central America, and in some cases, overworking and housing them in less-than-desirable living conditions.
Practices like these are more common than people know, across the country. Whether it’s livestock mega farms in the midwest or berry farms in California, or other produce across the south… Modern industrial farming is not as traditional as we think it should be, and racist and inhumane practices are prevalent around the country. And yet, how most of the country survives is based on such an economy.
All that is to say, is racism is prevalent throughout our daily lives, even if we may only interact in a homogenous culture most of our days. This is not to excuse it, but to remind ourselves, because in order to actively fight against an injustice, we must first know and acknowledge that it exists.
In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus ‘throws around’ a story about a fig tree and how it hasn’t bore fruit in a couple years. The gardener tells the landowner that they should give it one more year to see if it bears fruit. If it bears fruit, then they have fruit. If it does not bear fruit, then the gardener gives the landowner permission to cut the tree down.
How long do we let the tree of our racism sit idly by, waiting for the fruit of repentance, before another tragedy cuts down the tree and another grows in its place? Because without talking about repentance, heck, even reparations, how long do we let the tree not give life to more seeds of justice? When we repent of our sins, when we acknowledge what we have done and work to repair the damage, new life can begin again, especially when we use our own metaphorical ‘manure’ as fertilizer to splay our own sins in repentance.
The stories of where I come from based on the racism and justice that proceeded me, is part of my own repentance in saying none of us are innocent in this fight. My family and I currently live in Bemidji, one of the homes of Paul and Babe, the first city on the mighty Mississippi, and the hub of three prominent Reservations of the Ojibwe people. Red Lake, Leech Lake and White Earth Indian Reservations are all within 60 miles of Bemidji. Besides the rampant poverty and racist policies that moved them there in the first place, one of the more recent issues plaguing the North Woods is the threat of more oil being moved through northern Minnesota. Home to abundant wildlife, wild rice, forest land and plenty of lakes and rivers - this land is under threat by an effort to replace an aging pipeline to export more oil through our state. Without listening to the voices that have lived in these lands for centuries, the North Woods could be under threat from this and also mining efforts in the Iron Range as well.
Without knowing our own history, our own engagement with injustices in our communities, we allow that fig tree to stay barren. Without repenting for our own participation in racism in our communities, new life cannot spring forth.
Because when communities acknowledge and work to bring voices together and build vibrant diverse communities, beautiful realities can happen. Bemidji still has rampant poverty and homelessness, but efforts for more affordable housing and available resources are being implemented. Community conversations about the pipeline projects are ongoing. Since I graduated high school, Morris has begun giving community and school resources in both English and Spanish, and the Catholic and Evangelical Free churches have Spanish-language worship services. Saint Cloud has developed an organization, UniteCloud to help bridge the divide of race and religion in the community.
None of these efforts are monolithic nor are they a cure-all, but every bit helps. The tragedies in New Zealand, Pittsburgh, and Charleston are examples of what happens when white supremacy breaks through our bonds of community. When the deranged idea of the superiority of whiteness gets weaponized.
We are called as Christians in this majority-white state to love our neighbors and go above and beyond to show our love to our neighbors of color, our neighbors of different faiths and backgrounds. We are called to love by a Savior that broke down barriers to preach, teach, love, serve, feed, clothe those for whom society cast out. We are called to extend out of our comfortability, to reach and listen to our neighbors. Last week, Pastor Andrew offered ideas and events to engage in this conversation, and I am sure there will continue to be further efforts to help in this community.
Jesus told the crowd that events have happened where if people don’t repent, bad things will continue to happen. He then threw around a story about how life will cease to exist if repentance and work on that repentance ceases as well. During this beautiful season of Lent, through this time of dark and shadow, we have been offered this time to reflect on whose we are and who we are called to be in this world. Stories of repentance and forgiveness are prevalent, and it all leads up to the cross.
Journey well, my friends.
Amen.
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