Rainbow chalice Sketch of First Parish UUFirst Parish Unitarian Universalist
Canton, Massachusetts



It Doesn’t Reflect Well on the Clergy

A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane D. Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
May 4, 2008

Readings: Amos 5 and Micah 6:3-16

I thought it would be good for us to hear the words of the Hebrew prophets Amos and Micah this morning. With all the recent talk in the media about the prophetic tradition, we ought to know something about it. After all, it’s part of our tradition.

I’m referring to the controversy surrounding the Reverend Jeremiah Wright, Jr., former minister of Barack Obama, who is vying to be the Democratic candidate for president.

It’s been clear that quite a few news pundits don’t know much about the Hebrew prophets. Or, they would have known that Wright’s preaching style, and his politics, fit very well into that tradition, as you could hear this morning. If you think some of his statements are over-the-top, or paranoid, or polemical, now you know that Amos and Micah ranted like that, too.

I’m sure they made the leaders, and even the people, of their time uncomfortable, just like Wright makes some of us uncomfortable. In fact, we’re told Amos was a thorn in the side of the powerful of his time. I’ll tell you that story in a minute.

But, first, who was he, when did he live? What were those times like?

Amos tells us he is not a professional prophet. He was a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, called by God to prophesy to God’s people. He was from south of Jerusalem but traveled north to Bethel to the official shrine to be a thorn in the side of the king. He preached 2800 years ago, during the long and peaceful reign of King Jereboam II, in the eighth century B.C. Israel. During Jeroboam’s reign, Israel expanded its territory and achieved a level of national prosperity never again reached. The military security and economic affluence during his reign were taken for granted by the Israelites.

As you heard, Amos feels he has been called by God to denounce Israel, and its neighbors, for reliance upon military might, and for grave injustice in social relations, abhorrent immorality and shallow, meaningless piety. Sound familiar?

So Amaziah, the official shrine priest of Bethel where Amos was prophesying, sends word to King Jereboam warning him that Amos is conspiring against him and that the people can’t bear his words. He relays to the King that Amos has said “Jereboam will die by the sword and Israel must go into exile away from his land.”

Then Amaziah tells Amos to leave town. “Flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there; and prophesy there; but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the kings’ sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.” Well, Amos stands his ground! He stands up to Amaziah, saying “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son. I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’

“You say, ‘Do not prophesy against Israel…Therefore, thus says the Lord: ‘Your wife shall become a prostitute in the city, and your sons and your daughters shall fall by the sword, and your land shall be parceled out by line; you yourself shall die in an unclean land and Israel shall surely go into exile away from its land..” So there! The next chapter continues much as the previous, with no indication that Amos left Bethel after that! [see Amos 7:10-17].

The words of the Prophets are never welcomed by those they criticize, of course. Their goal is to galvanize the people, not change the leaders. This is the tradition of Martin Luther King, Jr. (who we revere with a holiday today, but was feared in his time) and of Jeremiah Wright, who is under attack by the voracious media much as Amos was attacked by Amaziah.

So, when Wright declares that the recent criticisms of him are implicit “attacks on the Black church” I think he has a point. If more White preaching was truly prophetic, if more White church-goers were familiar with the Biblical prophets, his style would not be as alarming as it has been to many White people, including (I surmise) some of us.

If, by the way, you have only heard the sound-bites, please go to the website of his church, Trinity United Church of Christ-Chicago, and listen to an entire sermon. As a preacher myself, I feel it’s not fair to take our words out of context. Or go to Youtube and listen to his speech and the Q&A at the National Press Club this past week.

And, rather than speculate on why Barack Obama was attracted to Rev. Wright’s church, please read about his first visit there in 1988, which he describes in detail in his first memoir written in the early 1990’s. [pp. 291-295, Dreams from My Father, 2005 edition].

It’s rare that a clergy person is so prominent in the news. So, I’ve been following this with great interest, and some defensiveness, as you might imagine. And despite how I identify with the prophetic tradition, in this last round, at the National Press Club (which I watched on Youtube while convalescing), I think he has not done well by his colleagues, or the nation, I’m afraid.

I’m surprised, actually, because a year ago, I heard him speak, for about two hours, and was very impressed by his erudition and insight. He was the main presenter at the annual gathering of Unitarian Universalist ministers that precedes General Assembly every year.

I’m not sure exactly why Rev. Wright was chosen, but I know our main speakers are chosen a year or more in advance, so the decision was made before Obama was talking about running. I presumed it was because we are wanting to grow UUism and Wright is the minister of a congregation that, though neither conservative nor fundamentalist, had grown from 87 in 1972 when he was called as their minister to 6000 today, and includes people of a wide range of social and economic classes, a diversity to which we UU’s aspire. Perhaps there was also some curiosity to hear him speak because he is African American and his congregation is predominantly African American also, in a denomination that is our cousin (going back to the Massachusetts Congregationalists), has much the same congregational polity as ours, and is nearly as White as ours.

What I remember most about Wright’s speech is that by time it ended, I’d felt like my mind had gotten some exercise. At the end of June, most ministers are pretty well fried. Yet Rev. Wright’s academic lecture held my attention. He talked a lot about language; its development in the infant and young child, but also its development in cultures; and how sub-cultures have their dialects and mannerisms that are important to group and personal identity development.

I recall that he tied his topic to our mutual interest in ministry by talking about his use of language from his pulpit. I recall he told us he used language, including Biblical language, to appeal to the anger in many Black people’s experience for the purpose of channeling it into positive and productive individual behaviors as well as into transformative ministries to change people’s social conditions.

He mentioned the congregation’s Black Value System, which you can read on their website, as I did this past week. Perhaps it’s like our Principles and Purposes. The first is a “Commitment to God, the ‘God of our weary years’ [who] will give us the strength to give up prayerful passivism and become Black Christian Activists, soldiers for Black freedom and the dignity of all humankind.” Another value is to “adhere to the Black work ethic.”

One of the later in the list of twelve values is called “A Disavowal of the Pursuit of Middleclassness” and is further explained, “While it is permissible to chase ‘middleincomeness’ [emphasis added] with all our might,” those who are blessed with the talent or good fortune to achieve financial success must avoid the “psychological entrapment of Black ‘middleclassness’ that hypnotizes them into believing they are better than others and teaches them to think in terms of ‘we’ and ‘they’ instead of ‘US.’ ”

Given our country’s continued racial segregation, continued racial disparity in access to quality schools and health care, the continued under-representation of African Americans in colleges and their over-representation in prisons in part due to unfair sentencing that punishes more severely people (predominantly Black) who use or sell crack cocaine than people (predominantly white) who use or sell powder cocaine—and despite significant progress in the last fifty years as symbolized by all the successful professional Black people in Wright’s congregation—this focus on individual and collective progress as a Black community makes sense to me.

I don’t take it as being against Whites. I don’t take it as Anti-American. I take it as being for excellence and equality for all, and against greed and deceit in political and financial practices keeping people down and making a few (mostly White) very rich and powerful. I take it to be a lot like Amos and Micah.

I share many of Wright’s views, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a more White-sounding minister than me! J

In light of the fact that this summer I will be leaving my ministry with you and an Interim Minister will be arriving, and that next year you will be reflecting on what kind of a minister you want to succeed me as your settled minister, I want return to that comparison, between Rev. Wright and myself, in a few moments.

But, I haven’t yet explained why I think Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s performance this week did not reflect well on the clergy, nor do I think it did well by the nation.

In his United Church of Christ tradition, as in ours, the clergy are entrusted with “freedom of the pulpit.” In my Letter of Agreement as The Minister with you as The Parish, this principle is given its own section and simply states, “The Minister shall have the freedom of the pulpit even as The Parish is a free congregation.”

It is a freedom, but it arises, in my mind, out of trust. You trust me to speak my mind and from my heart freely, “to speak the truth in love,” as we say. And I trust you to think and feel for yourselves. You are free to disagree with me, as some of you do sometimes (and a few of you do much of the time!).

But, to me, preaching is very relational. I have you in mind when I conceive of a theme and I have you in mind when I am reading and writing. True, I speak from my own experience, and it would be difficult to preach authentically about things that don’t interest me, and impossible to preach authentically what is untrue to me. But, it’s for you, it’s for a particular congregation, in a particular time and place, of a certain mix of class, race and social backgrounds, temperaments, religious backgrounds, and theologies. So, even though I have a free pulpit, it’s not without restraints. After all, I want to be heard.

So, just as what I say here is for here, Rev. Wright’s sermons are for his congregation. My sermons are on our website, for anyone to read, and his are too, in video form. He preached his sermons at Trinity for his people; I for mine. Wider distribution via websites makes them accessible to the wider world, but we each preach to our own flock.

Many in the corporate media do not understand the tradition of the free pulpit, any more than they understand the prophetic tradition. Wright’s now-famous parishioner was as free to disagree with his pastor as you are with me, and no more responsible for his pastor’s views than you would be for mine if you were running for office. Also, what we say in our pulpits and how we say it, the language we use, is meant for our congregations, not the wider public. The media ought not criticize Rev. Wright for that.

But, in addition to believing that this freedom arises out of trust between pulpit and pew, I believe it also arises out of, and requires, humility—on my part.

It can be rather a heady thing to think that 65 here, or 665 at Trinity UCC in Chicago, want to come and hear what you have to say. The ego can have a hay-day up here, looking down its nose at all of you. Thinking it knows what you need to hear. Thinking it has something important to put forward. Thinking it might be speaking for God by whatsoever name we worship.

So, at my best, I feel I am more like the vehicle for some light, some love that I’ve been given to share with you. Some truth, some wisdom, some compassion, something noble and good, which comes through me and offers itself to you. Yes, I have to apply myself, read, think, discuss, use my gifts well. But, it’s not about me, and not to my credit alone.

This past week, during the Q&A at the National Press Club, Rev. Wright did not do well by his colleagues, or the nation, because he made “it” about “him.”

It seemed to me that his ego got the better of his compassion and judgment. I thought he and some of the Black clergy in the audience were interacting in an egotistical manner during the Q&A. He fed off of them and got stuck in a prophetic groove, when something altogether different was called for.

The moment required a pastor. Someone who could step back from the barbs and traps in many of the questions in order to get a bit of distance, to take a deep breath, let the ego calm down and let the truth speak out, with love.

The moment required a pastor. Someone who would grasp that, in that small auditorium, his congregation was far larger and more diverse than any he’d ever addressed--it was the citizens of his country. And we were listening.

In this historic period, with the possibility of having either a white woman or a black man running for president as a serious candidate for the first time in our history, we were listening.

In this time of self and public examination around sexism and racism, we were listening.

In these weeks, even months, of disquiet, if not dismay, about the quality of the debate of late, we were listening.

We were listening for wisdom, meaning, and reassurance in a language we all could understand.

The moment required a pastor.

Someone who could minister to the wounds left by the legacy of slavery, wounds still felt by both Blacks and Whites.

Someone who could touch the hearts of everyone listening.

Someone who could teach, and beseech, not berate, and beat up.

Just one example, let me give. At the National Press Club, after his speech, Rev. Wright was asked something like, “What do you think about Muslims when you hear these words of Jesus, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life, no one comes to the Father but by me?” (John 14:6) Meaning, can only Christians be righteous, only Christians go to heaven?

Wright had a quick come-back. He said, in what felt like a supercilious tone to me, “Jesus also said, ‘I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.’” And he turned away, with a smirk. As if to say, “So there! You quote the Bible, so can I!”

If only he had paused and given a little homily about the amazing gift, and challenge, of diversity in our country. He could have reflected with us on this time in our history. He could have conveyed his love for our country. He could have shared the teachings of his man Jesus about loving our neighbors.

The moment required a pastor, not a prophet.

Pastor, preacher, prophet, priest… as you think about what you want in a new minister, you’ll be called to consider deeply what your moment in time, here in this place, requires.

You will fill out surveys, meet in small and large groups, and even consider this question in worship with your Interim Minister. Your Search Committee will take in all you say, consider it prayerfully, attempt to articulate it for prospective candidates and ultimately select one for you to consider two years from about now, someone who they believe suits this place and people, for that time and going forward.

You might want someone a bit more like Rev. Wright than I—more of an extrovert, who speaks animatedly, less from a manuscript, someone more vivacious, though not—I hope—bombastic!

You might want more of a pastor, who touches your hearts, brings tears to your eyes, a deeply pastoral presence in all your interactions.

You might want someone with a spiritual gift for worship, who uses drama and dance, ritual and color as well as music, word, silence and song to create a sustaining, enlivening service.

You might want someone who can help you disagree in love, and love you while you’re in disagreement… Someone who will help the parish do less, or helps parishioners to more often say “no”.

You might want an intellectual, or a plain speaker; a mystic, a prayerful person; another spiritual humanist or perhaps an atheist, or a theist, a Christian, a Buddhist, who knows?

Pastor, preacher, prophet, priest… there is as much variety among the clergy as there is variety among our congregations.

Whoever you call to serve you, may he or she reflect well on the clergy.

And may we all—congregations, too—do well by our nation in its times of need. Amen.

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