The Power of Remembrance

Exodus 12: 1-14 Marianne Niesen September 4, 2011

On this Labor Day weekend, we turn our attention to a reading from the Old Testament. It is one most often heard during Holy Week – on Maundy Thursday – when we recall Jesus’ celebration of his ‘last supper’ with his disciples. That is commonly understood as having been a Passover meal. This text from Exodus recounts the prescription for the celebration of that great Jewish feast of Passover. The setting is Egypt where the Jews are still slaves. Moses had tried to convince Pharaoh to ‘let his people go’ but no matter the calamity – swarms of locusts, rivers of blood, herds of frogs - Pharaoh’s heart remains stubborn and the Hebrews remain enslaved. But God had one final ‘trick,’ one final argument to mount and this one – Moses is promised – would be the turning point. Pharaoh would at last let the people go. Listen . . .

This day shall be a remembrance for you . . . you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord - a perpetual ordinance. The establishment of the Passover was one of the most important of all Jewish festivals and they have indeed observed it ‘forever.’ Every year - and down to our own day - Jewish families gather at the traditional Seder meal. The patriarch of the household asks the children, "What makes this night different than all other nights?" The children respond with the Exodus story of God's miraculous deliverance of their people. Some things are important to remember and this event of deliverance is the quintessential important event all Jews were to remember. In fact, let’s be clear . . . even this account in the Bible is a remembrance. As the events were happening in Egypt, no one was writing them down. There was no scribe taking notes. There were no I-Reporters. You won’t find this on You-Tube! No – as the original ‘passing over’ unfolded, it was, by its very nature, chaotic. Whatever the actual scenario, it was a crisis event. People were scrambling. Life was in an upheaval. Everything was changing around them. The ‘writing down of things’ happened many years later. It happened after people reflected on what God had done for them and on how, when hope seemed hard to come by and options seemed limited, freedom came. Deliverance happened. Escape from Egypt happened. The event was so central it was to be the focus of faith forever. And so Jews remembered – and they remember still. Passover was and has always been about remembering. Jews have done it well. Jesus did it well.

I read the story of a teacher who was talking about the Passover with her class. She told about the Hebrews being slaves and how God told Moses to tell the people they should put the blood of the lambs on their doors so God would know which houses were Hebrew houses and which were Egyptian so when the spirit of God came, it would know which houses to strike and which to leave alone. And I know that even as I say that there are many of you who wonder about how fair this was of God and those poor Egyptian families who were about to lose a child – all of which are fair questions. But children mostly don’t think of any of that. They were intrigued with the idea of blood on doors and all. And then, one child asked . . . so if God knows everything, why did God need help? Didn’t God know who lived where? Good question, isn’t it? “Out of the mouths of babes …” [1]

Indeed, that very question tells us something important. God didn’t need the blood on the doorposts to know who was there. The people needed that act of claiming who they were. They were Hebrews, not Egyptians. They had an identity and a particular relationship with their God that was different from the Egyptians. Part of this story is about Jews claiming who they were. They were worshippers of a God who brought them freedom. They were believers in a God who never abandoned them. They were a community of faith who suffered together and worked together and escaped together and wandered in the desert together and arrived back home together. The Passover became the celebration that reminded them who they were and whose they were. Here’s the important thing . . . God didn’t need the Passover celebration. The people needed it. God isn’t the one who needs our worship and our celebrations. We need them. And part of why we need them is because honoring and remembering forms community and grounds us. It reminds us who we are and whose we are.

Today is Labor Day weekend. For many of us it marks the last big weekend of summer. Even though school has already started, this three day weekend nestled at the beginning of September is like a ‘last hurrah’ before we really get down to the work of school and more hectic schedules. But, let’s face it, the purpose of Labor Day originally was not about getting an extra day off before summer ends. In fact, most of the civic holidays we celebrate today with barbecues and picnics and camping and leisure did not begin that way. Martin Luther King Day, Memorial Day, 4th of July Holiday, Veterans Day – exist today because of yesterday’s sacrifice. The same is true of many religious holidays – Christmas, Easter, Passover. Today’s celebrations mark yesterday’s sacrifice and, often, pain. It is good to remember that in our celebrating. We don’t need to get stuck there, any more than Jews revisit slavery when they remember the Passover. But it is good to remember.

The first Labor Day celebration was on Sept. 5, 1882 and, according to the US Department of Labor, it is “a creation of the labor movement, and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have contributed to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.” In our time, the most common celebration for Labor Day in many communities includes a parade and speeches and perhaps a community picnic. I read in one article that Labor Day ranks 3rd in the ‘popular days for grilling’ behind the 4th of July which is 1st and Memorial Day which is 2nd. But, as interesting as all of that might be, it all misses what is perhaps the most important things this day calls us to remember. Sometimes I wonder if the fragmentation and bitter wrangling in our country today comes in part from our failure to do just that – our failure to remember what we have and at what cost. Our failure to appreciate the gifts we’ve been given, to assume our responsibility in the present so we pass on a better – not bitter – future for ourselves and those who come after us.

Labor Day, this annual celebration of workers and their achievements, originated during one of American labor history’s most dismal chapters. In the late 1800s, at the height of the Industrial Revolution in the US, the average American worked 12-hour days and seven-day weeks in order to eke out a basic living. Despite restrictions in some states, children as young as 5 or 6 toiled in mills, factories and mines across the country, earning a fraction of their adult counterparts’ wages. People of all ages, particularly the very poor and recent immigrants, often faced extremely unsafe working conditions, with insufficient access to fresh air, sanitary facilities and breaks. It was not uncommon, even in the US, for people to be ‘owned’ by their employer, earning barely enough to pay the rent for housing that the employer provided – and withheld, sometimes capriciously.

As manufacturing increasingly supplanted agriculture as the wellspring of American employment, labor unions, which had first appeared in the late 18th century, grew more prominent and vocal. They began organizing strikes and rallies to protest poor conditions and compel employers to renegotiate hours and pay. Many of these events turned violent during this period, including the infamous Haymarket Riot of 1886, in which several Chicago policemen and workers were killed. Others gave rise to longstanding traditions: On September 5, 1882, 10,000 workers took unpaid time off to march from City Hall to Union Square in New York City, holding the first Labor Day parade in U.S. history. The idea of a “workingmen’s holiday,” celebrated on the first Monday in September, caught on in other industrial centers across the country, and many states passed legislation recognizing it.

Congress would not legalize the holiday until 12 years later, when a watershed moment in American labor history brought workers’ rights squarely into the public’s view. On May 11, 1894, employees of the Pullman Palace Car Company in Chicago went on strike to protest wage cuts and the firing of union representatives. On June 26, the American Railroad Union, led by Eugene V. Debs, called for a boycott of all Pullman railway cars, crippling railroad traffic nationwide. To break the strike, the federal government dispatched troops to Chicago, unleashing a wave of riots that resulted in the deaths of more than a dozen workers. It was in the wake of this massive unrest and in an attempt to repair ties with American workers that Congress passed an act making Labor Day a legal holiday. [2]

I had heard some of that history before I worked on this sermon but, mostly, I – like many of you - have always thought of Labor Day as a nice end-of-summer day. It is that – but it is also a good day to remember how far we’ve come and how many people have sacrificed to make our lives better. One of the challenges we have as Americans in this day and age is to remember that we are connected to those who have gone before and to others in our community. We live in an age where individualism is often valued above all else and while self-reliance is good, it is not the only thing. It’s good to remember that.

A majestic cathedral in Northern Europe was known for its magnificent organ. Unlike the electronic organs of today, these organs depended on a man who would pump by hand the air needed for the organ to produce its great sound.

A guest organist was scheduled to play for a 4:00 recital featuring the works of Mozart and Mendelssohn. This brilliant guest organist bowed before the crowd and said, "For my first selection I will play a piece by Mozart." He sat at the organ and began to press the keys but absolutely no sound came out. He attempted a second time but again to no avail. This time, very aggravated, he said loudly, "For my first selection I will play a piece by Mozart." He returned to the keyboard but still no sound. Suddenly he heard a voice from behind the organ, "If you don't say we, I ain't gonna pump." The organist smiled and said, "For OUR first selection WE will play a piece from Mozart." Then great music was heard by all. [3]

No matter how good we are, how talented we are, we are part of a human community and we all stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before. Their sacrifice and vision has blessed us. They challenge us to be our best selves. So, whether we are celebrating civic or religious holidays, we will be well served if we do the work of remembering. Through the power of remembrance, we honor the past, strengthen our present connections and commit to work toward a better future. In that spirit, I wish us all a Happy Labor Day!

[1] Story suggested in a sermon by Schuyler Rhodes, To Be Passed Over, esermons.com.

[2] http://www.history.com/topics/labor-day

[3] story found in a sermon on this text by Eric S. Ritz, Why We Gather at the Table, esermons.com.