The Dream Before the Dream
St. Paul’s United Methodist Church
1 Samuel 3: 1-19, Rev. Marianne Niesen, January 18, 2009
Our scripture text today is from the first book of Samuel. Samuel was a child who, soon after his birth, was given by his mother Hannah to service in God’s temple. Hannah was the barren woman who prayed passionately for a child at that very temple - and her prayer was heard. At the temple, the child lived under the guidance of the old priest Eli who became his mentor, his tutor. Eli knew the requirements and responsibilities of being a priest and, we presume, he passed his wisdom on to the young miraculous child Samuel. And then one night . . . it happened like this. (1 Samuel 3: 1-19)
Samuel’s call from God came in that dream . And the call was not an easy one. Imagine - an adolescent boy must tell his teacher that God was going to punish him, that there was no escape. He was just a boy who became a prophet very quickly. If Samuel’s story teaches us anything, it teaches us that we human beings matter - in fact, we are more important to God than we think. God cannot do God’s work in the world without us - without the response of attentive, faithful men and women - and even children - who are passionate about God’s passion for justice - and in the Bible, that always means economic justice, distributive justice. Everyone has enough. Samuel’s story holds that kind of significance and inspiration. But, such stories are not only found in the Bible. That’s the amazing thing about this God of ours. God keeps calling and as we respond, God keeps equipping and empowering us to do what needs to be done.
The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was another such man, another prophet. A man who heard the voice of God and then, relying on strength far beyond his own, responded. King was one of the greatest leaders of the civil rights movement, tirelessly working for justice, inspiring crowds and confronting power. But we can often forget that King didn’t start with the big stuff. He started out - as do we all - as an ordinary person. He went into the ministry mostly because his Dad was a minister - and his granddaddy before that. Martin himself wanted a quiet life. He wanted to be a professor - maybe even become president of a college someday. Amazing aspirations , perhaps, for a black man in the 50's and 60's - but normal nevertheless. But, when, as the new young pastor of a church in Montgomery, Alabama, he found himself face to face with the courage of a Rosa Parks who refused to move to the back of the bus, he moved front and center. It began with a nonviolent boycott of buses. He speeches and sermons were inspirational. His leadership visionary and constant. One night, he came home late, bone tired - and concerned. Violence against the protesters was escalating. The rhetoric from the white establishment was increasingly threatening. Then the phone rang and an angry voice on the other end of the line said "we’re going to get you, Nigger!" Martin was afraid - and with good reason. People were dying and the threats, he knew, were real.
He said he tried to call his Dad at that moment - the older Pastor King - for advice and reassurance. But, there was no answer. And then, Martin said, he heard a voice - literally, heard a voice - "Martin, you do what’s right. You stand up for justice. You be my drum major for righteousness. I will be with you." . The remainder of his life was a response to that call . . . like young Samuel, the young Martin answered, "here I am." And the rest is history. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s great dream of a world where all people might be judged not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character, his vision from the mountaintop - his big dream began, as do all great dreams, with the dream before the dream
Watch a short video clip with me now. This was recorded by the United Methodist New Service. This agency did a series of interviews with various folk on the impact Dr. King had on their lives. This segment highlights retired United Methodist Bishop Mel Talbert. Bishop Talbert preached here just 3 years ago while I was on sabbatical. He and I became friends through my work on a General Church Agency. When I asked him to come to St. Paul’s, he didn’t hesitate. Said he’d ‘love to.’ My guess is that it wasn’t easy coming to the largely white state of Montana, to a largely white church. But, our relationship and his passion for the gospel compelled him. Bishop Talbert has been a faithful, visionary leader in our church, consistently challenging systems of racism, sexism, homophobia and militarism. He has been an outspoken advocate for peace on all levels. I had many conversations with Bishop Talbert but I never knew this part of his story . . . watch . . .
Early in his life, a young Mel Talbert met Dr. King in a jail cell - and he listened and his life was changed. The dream before the dream. His dreams - and ours - aren’t always night-time mysterious moments. Sometimes they come in the form of people who inspire us, children who disarm us and even a church community that encourages us. We need one another if we’re to join God in this work of transforming the world, fulfilling the dream.
You see, the stories of Samuel and Dr. King and Bishop Talbert are not unusual stories for people of faith. We are a ‘called’ people. God has a plan for each of us. I am not talking here about some kind of map that God has laid out and we are to figure out - and if we do, we get to heaven. Life is not meant to be some kind of divine treasure hunt. Heaven, after all, is not where the problems are. It’s earth that needs transforming. That’s where our attention must focus - because that’s where Jesus focused. On this world. And, God’s dream for the world has never been a secret. It is a world where all people are treated as beloved children of God, where all have enough, where diversity is honored, where violence has no place. Those themes run throughout the Hebrew Bible and became eminently clear in the life and ministry of Jesus. The feeding of the five thousand, healings for the sick, embracing the unclean, affirming the value of women and children, rejecting the use of violence - those were his actions, concretely proclaiming God’s dream for a world of justice and peace, equity and diversity, a world where everyone has enough. That’s the dream Jesus lived and died proclaiming. It is meant to become ours.
A while back Will Willimon, Dean of the Chapel at Duke, got a call from an upset parent, a VERY upset parent. "I hold you personally responsible for this," he said.
"Me?" Will asked.
The father was hot, upset because his graduate school bound daughter had just informed him that she was going to chuck it all ("throw it all away" was the way the father described it) and go do mission work with the Presbyterians in Haiti. "Isn't that absurd!" shouted the father. "A BS degree in mechanical engineering from Duke and she's going to dig ditches in Haiti."
"Well, I doubt that she's received much training in the Engineering Department here for that kind of work, but she's probably a fast learner and will probably get the hang of ditch-digging in a few months," Will said.
"Look," said the father, "this is no laughing matter. You are completely irresponsible to have encouraged her to do this. I hold you personally responsible," he said.
As the conversation went on, Dr. Willimon pointed out that the well-meaning but obviously unprepared parents were the ones who had started this ball rolling. THEY were the ones who had her baptized, read Bible stories to her, took her to Sunday School, let her go with the Presbyterian Youth Fellowship to ski in Vail. Will said, "You're the one who introduced her to Jesus, not me."
"But all we ever wanted her to be was a Presbyterian," said the father, meekly..
And all Dr. King wanted to be was an intellectual, president of a college - worthy dreams - but not worthy of him. And then he heard the voice and caught the big dream - and this world of ours will never be the same. He told us he’d been to the mountaintop and that he’d seen the promised land but that he didn’t think he’d get there. Sadly, he was right. Yet, now, forty years after his assassination, we will inaugurate a president for our country who, as George Bush said just last Thursday, is "a man whose history reflects the enduring promise of our land." (A dream.) And, he called it "a moment of hope and pride for our whole nation." Different party. Different philosophy. In a sense, a different generation. But, President Bush reminds us all of the significance of this moment. As does another retired bishop of our church, Woodie White
For 33 years, United Methodist bishop Woodie White has been writing a yearly letter to Dr. King, letting him know how things are going since he left us. The letters are insightful and attest to the power of the dream for which Dr. King lived and died . His letter this year is particularly poignant. It reads in part . . . Dear Martin . . .
It seems only yesterday that black people were battling for the opportunity to vote. Many died seeking that right. State by state, it eventually changed. But scarcely anyone glimpsed a future when a black man would be elected president of the nation . . .
The election of Mr. Obama is more significant than the transfer of power from one party to another. Its significance goes beyond the current economic crisis . . .
This election will impact an area that has been at the heart of America’s failure as a nation. I believe it will bring an end to the dying ideology of "they."
American racism is grounded in an often unspoken declaration of innate inferiority and superiority. It is based on the claim that one’s race is the determinative factor in ability and achievement.
But today, Americans can no longer assert that ‘they’ are unable to hold this position or perform that role. . . Neither can it be held that the white community is monolithic in its race attitudes. The truth is, it has ever been that way, even when it appeared to be so.
(This) election is the result of the votes and support of persons of broad racial and ethnic diversity . . . it can no longer be said that ‘they’ won’t vote, support or accept a person because of race or color. Some will or will not; but ‘they’ is no longer descriptive or normative. . .
In so many ways, Martin, we are a better nation, a better people than you left. Not perfect, but better. . .Thank you and happy birthday, Martin. We are overcoming!
As we celebrate the memory of Dr. King tomorrow, and as we witness an historic moment for our nation on Tuesday, we can join Bishop Talbert’s prayer of gratitude - "thank God things are not as they were." Yet, the challenge of realizing the dream remains. God’s dream - a world where everyone has enough, where diversity is honored, where justice and peace win is not yet fulfilled. There is still work for us all. Listen then for your particular call, for God’s voice - because God still speaks, still calls, still needs our help. And the dream? It’s closer . . . always closer . . .
Speak Lord, your servants are listening!
