“Beyond Zebra” - sermon notes for Proper 12

Scarcity means an insufficient supply, and we believe in the truth of scarcity. We accept funding shortages that drive the teacher shortage in our urban schools, the reduction of services for the disabled, and the disregard for crumbling infrastructure of our urban core. We believe that there isn’t enough, and in our believing we find reality.

As I read “On Beyond Zebra” (Dr. Seuss) in the shadows of our St. Louis public school disgrace, I am aware that the results of our theology of scarcity are neither neutrality nor emptiness.

When we gather together millions of youngsters, house them in squalor for the better part of each waking day, require moronic rhythms of passive obedience, fail to provide safety with adequate supervision, fill their bellies with trans fats and preservatives (while preaching about obesity), we are not teaching nothing. We are inculcating our children with self loathing and limitation. We are destroying wonder and preparing a society of disdain for educated inquiry.

Educational reform, or the lack thereof, is not new. More than fifty years ago John Hersey published an article in Life magazine deploring the state of public education. Hersey described, “pallid primers [with] abnormally courteous, unnaturally clean boys and girls”. He believed that school was so dull that it was numbing the minds of our children. Trying to further this point he published a prophetic sci-fi novel entitled “Child Buyer” which attacked the rigidity of the public school system and showed the ways in which such stilted education actually destroys wonder and creativity.

Fads come and go, as do politicians.
But the lasting effects of our theology of scarcity?
Tragically these are felt into the seventh generation.

Dr. Seuss’ work stood in stark contrast to the drivel that Hersey railed upon and Seuss’ “On Beyond Zebra” specifically addresses the problem of unimaginative classrooms and the restrictions we place in learning. Conrad Cornelius o’Donald o’Dell assumes that the alphabet stops at “z” as he has been taught. He is comfortable in the world he knows, the world that is spelled with 26 letters. But what if there is more? What if we don’t limit ourselves to 26? Seuss invites us to wonder ‘what if?’

Our gospel lessons beckons to this kind of believing, a believing in possibility, promise, and yes, abundance. Far beyond the confines of reason and rules, free of a theology of perimeters and paucity, a hungry crowd is fed by one small lunch. This small and insignificant lunch, when shared and blessed, feeds the multitude and more.

What if we approached the education of our children with the same theology of abundance with which we fund the war machine? What if we allocated funds as unquestioningly for the disabled adult’s wheel chair as we do for the inmate chains?

Our theology of scarcity is a choice, a choice we must change.

The Morning After

After a summer stormed rumbled through St. Louis last night we were left without power. Us and about 500,000 of our closest friends. Having spent the better part of the storm in our candlelit basement (nasty even in the flickering light), I was relieved to share an impromptu party on the back deck with my family. The air after a storm is always cooler and cleaner and last night was no exception. The open windows allowed enough airflow to get us comfortably through the unlit night and the power (and air conditioning) returned mercifully as the sun rose this morning. All is well. For us and about 100,000 of our closest friends.

But many hundreds of thousand St. Louisans are without power this morning. As the sun moves higher in the sky the temperatures (never mind the humidity!) are expected to top 100degrees. With our modern architecture dependent on central air, a black out can be more than an inconvenience. Houses built for energy efficiency (low ceilings and few windows) are disasters without electricity, and those most vulnerable will suffer.

While my ceiling fan moves the air around me, I ponder the plight of my city in the context of a world in crisis. Another day of fighting in Lebanon, another tsunami in the ‘ring of fire’, another debacle in our St. Louis Public Schools (the Board passed the “wrong” budget on Tuesday!?).

Compassion is the theme for the Sunday readings. With passion, shared emotion. A connection one with another that is rooted in the depth of our being.

What will compassion look like for the child in the city? Caught in a high rise during a heat wave and no electricity? Looking ahead to a school year filled with adults in crisis mode?

What is compassion between myself and the unnamed man in the news story from Indonesia? And what compassion is possible between my pacifist self, the marine, and the Lebanese child? As I sit in the comfort of my airconditioned space, lace curtain gently swaying, monitor responding to my every stroke?

These are the questions of the morning after…

prayers for Proper 11

Invocation

Weary God
you who crept into human skin
skin that was tired and weak
skin that needed Sabbath rest
skin that felt harried and pained…
Weary God
be gentle with us as we gather in our neediness.


Call to Worship


Come with your questions, come with your awe!
For the God who broods over the chaos
meets us in this place. 
Come with your energy, come with your weariness!
For the God who breathes new life into the dust
meets us in this place.
Come with your sadness, come with your joy!
For the God who dared to become human
meets us in this place.