Sunday, July 4, 2010

Interdependence Day


Interdependence Day
sermon preached at St. Thomas Episcopal Church, Medina, WA
by Josh Hosler, Associate for Christian Formation
Independence Day/ July 4, 2010

At the north side of this building you’ll find the entrance to the chapel. It’s a wonderful place to sit and be quiet for a while, as I do for 20 minutes in the middle of each work day. The windows in the Chapel depict, chronologically, important people in the history of the Christian faith, beginning with the Roman Emperor Constantine, continuing with a variety of saints and martyrs, and concluding with a man many consider a living saint: Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

Bishop Tutu was the Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town from 1986 to 1996. During that time he was instrumental in bringing down the racist institution of apartheid and helping move South Africa toward reconciliation and healing. On this day, when we are observing our nation’s independence, I’d like to challenge us as Americans to learn at Bishop Tutu’s feet. Especially, I’d like everyone to become familiar with the Bantu word Ubuntu.

Ubuntu is a religious concept. It is difficult to define succinctly, but here are some words from Bishop Tutu that get us into the ballpark:

A person with Ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed.

Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality—Ubuntu—you are known for your generosity. We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity.

I have heard the word Ubuntu reduced to the following phrase: “I am what I am because of who we all are as children of God.”

Explaining the implications of Ubuntu, Bishop Tutu also writes:

A self-sufficient human being is subhuman. I have gifts that you do not have, so, consequently, I am unique—you have gifts that I do not have, so you are unique. God has made us so that we will need each other. We are made for a delicate network of interdependence. We see it on a macro level. Not even the most powerful nations in the world can be self-sufficient.

I hear Tutu saying that as much as we might wish to sometimes, we can’t just inhabit our spacious hemisphere as if we didn’t need other countries. And he doesn’t just mean big countries to trade with, like China. He means that we need Cameroon and El Salvador and Croatia and Bangladesh. He means that we need Libya and Iran and North Korea. We all need each other, not necessarily in an economic sense or a geopolitical sense, but in a human sense.

We don’t need to be the best at everything, not even soccer. We don’t need to fool ourselves into believing that no other nation means us harm. But we do need to respect and welcome the gifts that other nations and their cultures share with us. In a country that worships the value of the individual, it can be difficult to move beyond our own self-interest or even our family’s interests. Yet I believe that Ubuntu gets right to the heart of the Gospel.

Our Scripture readings for today are the readings assigned for the observance of Independence Day. These readings guide us to realistic assessment of our nation and a recommitment to its long-term goals. But in the Gospel, Jesus raises the bar so high that we may feel completely inadequate to the task:

I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven … for if you love those who love you, what reward do you have?

I don’t think I’m going far out on a limb when I say that this may be the heart of Jesus’ message to us. It takes the two great commandments—“love God” and “love each other”—and explains the real ramifications. There may be no more difficult text in the entire Bible than the statement, “Love your enemies.” It seems naïve, foolish, and weak. Can’t we just draw a circle of protection around our families and closest friends, and only progress beyond that circle when we’re sure it’s safe to do so?

Well, in the times when we can’t muster the energy to love our enemies, maybe we can at least love those we believe to be of no use to us. Because the fact of the matter is that we do need them. Humans need other humans in order to be truly human: Ubuntu.

I believe the United States of America shows promise in the area of Ubuntu. For instance, when a natural disaster hits anywhere in the world, we don’t calculate whether those who are in danger are of use to us. We rush right in to offer help. That’s a start. But we are also a nation of radical individualists, no matter our political stripe. We work hard to ensure our own safety and the safety of our families, and at the end of the day, we often find that this is all the energy we believe we have. We’ll give money to a good cause. But communal movements like carpooling, pea patches, Congregations for the Homeless—they’re difficult work that seem to restrict our cherished freedom. Most of us are not willing to commit ourselves that deeply to the idea of real community.

I’ve certainly been there: how many of my neighbors do I actually know? Only a few, and they’re the ones who are most similar to me—home buyers instead of home renters. People my own age. People with similar interests. This is not enough to build a sense of community in my neighborhood. And why don’t I go there? Not because I don’t want to, but because I believe I will be biting off more than I can chew. I might have to give up some of my precious independence.

Last Thursday I was pulling dandelions in the front yard when a couple of boys came up on bikes. They said their phone service is about to be cut off, and they were trying to earn money any way they could to keep that from happening. They offered to pull weeds. And I immediately turned them down. Why? Because I didn’t want the inconvenience. I wanted to pull the dandelions myself, for free, and make sure I got out as many roots as I could. I wanted to stay in control.

Five minutes after the boys left, I wished I could call them back. I wasn’t in a rush that day, and I love my work with kids. I could have pulled weeds with the boys, gotten to know my neighbors a little better, and given them a check as well. Why did I resist such a simple attempt at building community? Because I have hypnotized myself into a default mode called, “I don’t have the time or energy for that.”

It’s the same with church. Now, I get paid to be here, so it’s easy for me. And many of us here today are really immersed. But how many of us find ourselves saying, “I’ll get more regular in my church attendance once I get a few other things in my life straightened out”? I imagine that’s the case for some of you out there, and I just happened to catch you on the right Sunday. Church, like any other community, is not a quick fix. It takes time and fortitude.

By extension, it’s the same with the entire world. It is very easy for me to scan the news online every morning, skip over the unpleasant stuff, and move on to the entertainment stories. I have this privilege. I live in a country where I don’t have to live in constant fear that my life will be taken from me, or that something I say will cause me to be incarcerated. This is due to a network of privileges that I enjoy without having earned them. Today is Independence Day, the day on which we celebrate those privileges.

But Ubuntu reminds me that not everyone in the world or even in our own country has this privilege, and that because I inhabit this privileged life, it’s not enough just to enjoy it. I am not an island. I am interdependent. The food I eat was grown by somebody with less privilege than I. It was brought to my grocery store by somebody with less privilege than I. The deck is stacked against many people, like those boys in my neighborhood. This realization saddles me with responsibility I’d rather not have. But the responsibility is mine. I need to learn about the network of interdependence that supports me, and then discover what I can do to give back.

And so I challenge us all—and that includes me!—to become less independent. That’s right. On Independence Day, I’d like us to become less independent and more interdependent. That doesn’t mean surrendering all of our power, but it does mean accepting some inconveniences for the sake of the Gospel.

Bishop Tutu developed the concept of Ubuntu out of a double-sided frustration: frustration with the Western mindset of an identity formed by rugged independence, and frustration with the African paradigm of an identity formed by utter dependence on the community. Neither is healthy. Even as independence leads to economic privilege and unparalleled innovation, it has also led to the breakdown of families, rampant greed, and a diminished understanding of ourselves as members of the planet and children of God. These are some of the reasons why our country has enemies, so we have lots of work to do.

On the other side, while some may glorify the ideal communal life that we see in some African countries, this extreme can lead to a loss of individual identity as one’s person is subsumed within the community’s expectations. It creates a situation in which individual agency is downplayed, making it easy for the privileged few to snatch power and keep it. Just witness the long, sad history of brutal African dictatorships.

Ubuntu balances the extremes. As we participate in community, we become more ourselves, able to differentiate ourselves in a healthy way from the community to which we belong while still being responsible to it. Yes, it takes a lot of energy to sustain Ubuntu. Have you ever felt that you were carrying your family on your shoulders, your company on your shoulders, the world on your shoulders? But Ubuntu offers a vision of a community that can share those burdens, if you’ll only become vulnerable enough to allow that to happen.

I cannot be a Christian in a vacuum. I need the church to remind me who I am. Only through the love of others and through responsibility to them can I truly know myself as unique, powerful, and loved by God. I am not independent, and I am not dependent. I am interdependent. Today, I recommit myself to Ubuntu, to community. I may have to surrender some freedoms along the way, yes. But in the long run, with much time and commitment, that effort will make me freer than I can possibly imagine.

Today is my Interdependence Day. Will it be yours? Amen.

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