Our life moves between two horizons: the horizon of our birth and the horizon of our death. This span of years is best understood when we look at two other horizons: the moment of Jesus Christ’s birth, God’s incarnation and breaking into human history, and the promised return of the risen Christ, when the work of this world will be completed and all human life will know God’s healing love. Jesus came; Jesus will come again; and Jesus gave us this wonderful promise: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20). Our lives unfold in the in-between time between God’s two great moments in history. So the question remains: How then should we live our lives now?
The year 1940 was an incredibly difficult one for Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Locked in a presidential battle with Wendell Wilkie, FDR was trying for an unprecedented third term in office. Overseas, Hitler’s military juggernaut had rolled through Poland, Denmark, Norway, Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, and France. The Battle of Britain meant our closest ally was being hammered by Luftwaffe air strikes. And it seemed that everyone had an opinion about what FDR should do next.
Some of the loudest voices were the isolationists. These naysayers largely fell into three, often overlapping, groups – the anti-Semites, the pragmatists, and the xenophobes. We must not forget the lingering stain of anti-Semitism in American culture. One group of isolationists was against both the Communists and the Jews and sadly felt that Hitler offered a way to suppress both groups. A second group believed that the Nazis would inevitably overrun England. Therefore, it made no pragmatic sense to send military supplies to Britain if, within a few months, the weapons simply ended up in the hands of Hitler. And the third, xenophobic group was disinclined to solve Europe’s problems and believed we should keep every plane, ship and soldier on American soil to defend ourselves, in case Hitler decided to come this way.
Powerful voices pushed these views, including Henry Ford and Charles Lindbergh, who felt that Hitler was someone America could work with. When Joseph Kennedy, ambassador to England, told a reporter that Britain could not withstand the Germans and “Democracy is finished in England”, FDR asked Kennedy to resign but thereby lost his official envoy to Prime Minister Churchill. As 1940 drew to a close, FDR did win his third term in office, but had to move quickly to decide what to do about the war in Europe. To help make that decision at that historic moment, he turned to an unlikely envoy named Harry Hopkins.
Harry Hopkins was born in Sioux City, Iowa. He was not handsome; a long-limbed man who wore an ugly fedora and suits one reporter described as looking as though they had spent the night in a heap on the floor. He had battled cancer; he liked horse racing and off-color stories; he also had a machine-gun intensity and could get things done. Hopkins was incredibly loyal to FDR, having worked with him when he was Governor and later helped him implement important parts of the New Deal. In January 1941, Roosevelt sent Hopkins to England to explore how America should respond in that hour of crisis. Were the isolationists right and Britain was doomed to fall? Or was there truth to earlier reports that, with America’s aid, England could withstand Hitler’s Luftwaffe?
For a nation holding on for dear life, Hopkins’ visit was a lifeline. And soon Hopkins sent this message back to FDR: The [courageous] people here are amazing. But this island needs our help now, Mr. President, with everything we can give them. One night during that long, cold January visit, at a dinner with Churchill and other guests, an exhausted Hopkins was prevailed upon to say a few words. “Mr. Chairman, I am not making speeches over here. I am reporting what I see to Mr. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, my President, a great man, a very great man. But now that I am on my feet perhaps I might say in the language of the old book” – and here he paused and, looking straight at Churchill, quoted from the book of Ruth – “Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” And then he lowered his voice and said, very quietly, “Even unto the end.”
That night, Hopkins offered words of hope that told of a unity between Britain and America that no war could break or diminish. On the night of his Last Supper, Jesus too rose from his place at the table to offer words of hope and unity, doing so with a prayer spoken from his heart. He said, Father, I am coming to you. Protect in your name those you have given me, so that they may be one as we are one. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but to protect them from evil. In this prayer, Jesus names one of the fundamental tensions people of faith confront – how do we live our lives in these in-between times, in a world that is imperfect and prone to violence? Should we be Christian isolationists? Should we separate ourselves from the world – perhaps by moving into a walled monastery in a remote corner of the world (some Christians have chosen to do that)? Or perhaps by living in a community that limits contact with the outside world (some Amish or other separatist groups believe this)?
I find those solutions to be imperfect. Jesus prayed that we were not to be removed from the world, even though the world persecutes and hates any who take to heart the fundamental truth of Christ’s message; and knowing full well that by staying engaged in this world would lead Christ to death on a cross. But Christ did not disengage from the world. Christ did not abandon us to our sins, or adopt an isolationist perspective believing that humans are doomed and not worth the messiness of staying engaged with them. God in Christ acted with a promise of costly love, saying in effect: Wherever you go, I will be there ahead of you; wherever you rest your head, I will be beside you; I am your God and you are my people, my children, even to the end.
Jesus prays for us to recognize our unity: God in Christ, Christ in us, and all of us in God – a oneness unlike anything offered by the world. And if this spiritual unity exists, then Jesus’ prayer also tells us what we are supposed to do next in this moment in history. Vs. 18: As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. As Christ did not pull back, but engaged in the messiness of human life and relationships, so too have we been sent into the world – to walk beside those who are in need; to support those who are threatened by unjust principalities and powers; like Harry Hopkins, to look the persons in need in the eyes and promise to be there with them no matter what.
Now I don’t want this topic to slip into religious piety and jargon. Yes, I am talking about engagement with others in this world while holding true to our Christian priorities, which are not of this world. This is a big topic, but let me offer one concrete way to put this into practice. All of you are generous and caring people of faith. As such, you likely receive something in the mail each day asking for your donation. The senders of those requests want to avoid having you toss their solicitation into the trash, so they put something in the envelope that compels you to open it: mailing labels, greeting cards, offers for free hats, stuffed animals, or tote bags, postage stamps or actual coins affixed to something inside. How many of you have received something like that in the mail? These giveaways are effective because they induce a sense of obligation in us – “I should support this cause because they gave me these nice labels.” They also encourage us to give without thought and without deeper engagement. We tell ourselves, “My check is helping to fight cancer or feed hungry children overseas” when you don’t know that to be true unless you really know the program, or find out how much of their budget goes into mailings vs. into direct aid to those in need.
I’m going to go out on a bit of a limb here, and offer a rule for your charitable giving: Don’t give to anyone or anything because it makes you feel better. That should be a warning flag. Any giving done so that you feel better is the wrong motivation and only promotes what is known as toxic charity. Give instead because you know about the program, because you know how it spends your dollars, and you understand that it’s not a hand out but a hand up to a better life.
Jesus’ prayer should be our prayer: As Christ was sent into the world, so have we been sent into the world. That means we take our own Hippocratic Oath in relation to acts of charity and vow to do no harm. Toxic charity actually does harm. It creates dependency. It demeans the recipient by disempowering them. It is charity shaped by our agendas and not the aspirations of the ones in need. Now, no one will ever be perfect in their donations. We give handouts to get rid of the needy person before us; we send in a check because the photo of the cleft palate child or the coins glued in the envelope create in us a sense of obligation. None of us do good perfectly.
But set a goal in the coming months to do 50% of your annual giving intentionally – faithfully – not shaped by how it makes you feel, but because it is part of your engagement in lives and people around you. For example, when you pledge to this church, it is because you know it costs money to staff programs and provide space here, so that 12 Step groups have a safe place to meet (when so many other doors are closed to them); children have a place to gather, sing, learn, and serve; and people from all walks of life have a place to pray, worship, and experience Christ’s healing love. When you give to Oikocredit or micro-finance organizations like Finca or Fonkoze or Opportunity International, you make an investment in developing countries’ plans for self-betterment, versus underwriting an international hand-out that is quickly forgotten or easily abused.
This world needs you more than your dollars. For you have been sent as Christ was sent. You are the eyes and ears charged with giving a report to God about what you’ve seen in places of war and need and poverty, and offering the love of Christ through word and deed. Christian isolationism is never an option. Intervene, advocate, engage; walk by faith, not sight. That, I believe, is how we are to live our lives now.
AMEN
Copyright © 2013 to the author of this sermon. All rights reserved.