Fellow Citizens

The 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B




So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called "the uncircumcision" by those who are called "the circumcision"-- a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands-- 12 remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. 15 He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, 16 and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. 17 So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; 18 for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, 20 built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. 21 In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; 22 in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God. (Ephesians 2:11-22 NRSV)



The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. 31 He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. 32 And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 33 Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 34 As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, 55 and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed. (Mark 6:30-34, 53-56 NRSV)





“(W)HOL(L)Y CITIZENS”





I remember my report card from first grade. Well, I only remember one part of it. It said: “Tim is a good classroom citizen.” I liked that; it meant I was a good part of our little classroom. Last week, following the reading from the Letter to the Ephesians, we talked about God adopting us into God’s family. This week we hear something similar, only it is not being a member of God’s family, it is being a citizen of the Kingdom of God. “Citizen” calls to mind the freedom we celebrated earlier this month. It also reminds us of this very political year. What does it mean to be a citizen? In the Wisconsin state capitol there is a copy of the constitution of the state of Wisconsin on display. It is probably not the original, but it might be from around that time. The name “Wisconsin” is in red ink, probably to be fancy, but the problem with red ink is that it fades faster than black. So it says, “We the people of the State of _____.” It looks kinda funny. It looks generic, like we don’t belong to a particular place. That is not true of citizens. They belong somewhere, either by birth or by naturalization.

It means that one belongs to the nation or state or town and has rights. It means that one belongs to something greater than the individual. That is a source of strength in times of trouble. It is where we get our identity, our sense of who we are. We are Americans or Minnesotans or people from Chatfield or Utica or Lewiston. And it is also that we are obligated to seek the welfare of the whole. To love our country means not only that we love the things that it does, that it stands for. It is not only nostalgia for its past. It is also that we care about its present and future and that we want to make it a better place. It is that we will work to make it a better place.

With our rights come responsibilities. The nation does not exist only to take care of us; there are others. To be a citizen means we participate. That is like some young persons in the news recently: Some Boy Scouts saw a robbery take place on a trail and called the police, then they got on their bikes and found the victim’s cell phone which the perpetrator discarded in the woods. When asked about why they did it, they said that they couldn’t just stand by.

As we think of our country, we know that it is facing tremendous challenges. The world is changing rapidly and presents us with dangers and opportunities we would have never dreamt of years ago. Sixty years ago we were part of a worldwide effort to restore peace to our time. We were united in that effort. Now it seems like we are anything but united. We are facing issues of economy, and the environment, terrorism and fairness. One hundred fifty years ago the country was torn apart. Out of that time came a new understanding of what it means to be one people, one nation. There was a new understanding of what it meant to be a citizen. When the nation faced WWII, there was a commission for a musical piece to help support us, a patriotic piece to help us appreciate anew what we were fighting for. Aaron Copland wrote “A Lincoln Portrait”, looking back to the earlier crisis. It has musical sections and narrated passages, taken from Lincoln’s own words. A couple of them are:



“Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history.”

That is what he said. That is what Abraham Lincoln said.

“Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history. We of this congress and this administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation. We, even we here, hold the power and bear the responsibility.”



He said: “As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy. Whatever differs from this, to the extent of the difference, is no democracy.”



He said: “That from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.



It has been performed many times and one of those times is worth noting. When Leonard Bernstein conducted the New York Philharmonic years ago the narrator was the great black baritone William Warfield. After the concert performance he was visited by descendants of former slaves who heard Lincoln deliver the Gettysburg Address. It is a reminder of what Lincoln’s words were really about.

The writer to the church in Ephesus reminds them that once they did not know Christ. Now they do and so belong to God’s people. Now they share in the covenant and the peace that Christ has made with God. Now the dividing wall is broken down and they see what they share with others. There are not two groups, but one, and the goal is none other than being a dwelling place for God.

The Kingdom of God, of which we are citizens, is bigger than a political party or movement, or even a nation. We can forget that and get tied up in smaller things. The Civil War started out as about states’ rights, but became about something bigger, higher. It became about who we are and the meaning of freedom. It became about equality, not just in the words of our constitution, but in our daily lives. It became about whether we were going to continue to be one nation and a nation that tolerated slavery. It became about who we are and who our fellow human beings are. In our country, it usually comes back to that idea of freedom. Is our freedom only for ourselves? Is it only so I can do what I want? For it to be freedom is must be about something greater. Our understanding of what citizenship means gives us an answer to that.

A pastor in Texas, Scott Walker, found this meaning to freedom when in college his freshman year he was causal about attending class or studying. This led to a trip to the dean’s office and academic probation. He defines freedom differently now. “Through experience, I learned that freedom and discipline must always walk hand in hand.” What we choose each day, will determine whether our freedom is a great strength or a great weakness.



Believers in Christ are citizens of where they live, but they become something else. Wherever they live, they also belong to another people. They are citizens not only of where they live on earth, but also a heavenly kingdom. There are rights we have as citizens, but to live in a place also means accepting the responsibilities. That is the price of freedom. And another cost is to know that we cannot be free when others are not, that we are a part of a whole. To be free has a greater meaning than getting what you want. That is why each people and generation must find it for itself, see it for itself, and choose it for itself. We cannot stand by. That is what being a citizen is, from the classroom to the world.