Sermon - Is the Statue of Liberty Waving Goodbye?

When I was Chair of the Parliament of the World’s Religions I was invited to preach at a large church in Honolulu one summer.  Several weeks prior, the pastor of the church called to talk about the service. I was stunned when he told me I should wear a white shirt and a tie and that they would loan me a black pulpit robe to wear in their unairconditioned sanctuary. This news left me speechless enough.  But then the Honolulu pastor dropped a bomb on me.  He said that to preach on the Sunday before the 4th of July was an honor.  Everyone, he said, would come to church dressed in red, white and blue.  And everyone would be expecting to hear me preach a patriotic sermon. 

I did not tell him that in my 28 years of ministry I had never preached a patriotic sermon.  It’s not that I don’t love my country.  It’s rather that I have always taken seriously the teaching of Jesus to “render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars, and to God the things that are God’s.  I always figured that patriotism belongs to Caesar, and worship belongs to God.   To confuse the two is inevitably toxic.

Nevertheless, I stood in that Honolulu church in 2002 and listened to one patriotic hymn after another, ending with the singing of “God Bless America.”  This song implies, of course, that God smiles on America and frowns on the rest of the world.  By the time we got to the last verse of the hymn, I was fantasizing what it would be like if one of the biblical prophets, like Amos or Jeremiah, suddenly came storming down the aisle saying, “You want God to bless America”? You want God to bless a country where materialism, militarism and a bias against the poor is written into public policy?  You want God to bless the land that consists of 5% of the world’s population yet consumes 30% of the world’s resources?  Why don’t you sing God Bless Darfur or God bless the Middle East—they really need a blessing! 

The biblical prophets never minced their words.  And this brings us to the book of Daniel and the story about King Belshazzar.  Belshazzar was not a good king. He wasn’t even a smart king. While his kingdom was under attack, he sat on his throne, sipping wine.  Intoxicated and feeling a little arrogant he tells his servants to bring him the goblets stolen from the temple in Jerusalem.  The servants pour the wine.  The king takes a sip.  His face turns ashen gray.  The text says his knees knocked together.  

Suddenly he sees something on the wall before him.  Five, long, ghostly fingers have materialized and they are writing a message on that wall.  The King can’t read the message because it’s written in Hebrew.  He summons the Hebrew prophet Daniel to translate. Looking at the words on the wall Daniel says, “For you O king, this handwriting on the wall means that your days are numbered, that you are weighed in the balance and found wanting, you and your nation”. 

A few hours later Belshazzar is killed by an invading army—the handwriting was on the wall.       

On the threshold of one more 4th of July celebration, the biblical prophetic tradition, calls out to 21st century Americans saying—Look here—the handwriting is on the wall.

We started a war in Iraq under a false pretence.  Our leaders told us we could bring peace to Iraq by going to war in Iraq, We were told that Saddam’s violence was barbaric and immoral, but our violence was righteous.  We were led to believe that the violence we bring would fix everything. But now we see the handwriting on the wall.

This past June, a group of 50 high school presidential scholars went to the White House to meet with President Bush.  The president wanted to tell these bright high school graduates all about the No Child Left Behind initiative.  But these teenagers had a different idea.  Before meeting with the president they had all signed onto a letter to President Bush about the issue of torture.  At their meeting they presented their letter to the President.  They urged him to do everything in his power to stop violations of the human rights of detainees, to cease illegal renditions, and to apply the Geneva Convention to all detainees, including those designated enemy combatants. Those brave teenagers standing before the president were saying, “the handwriting is on the wall.” Those teenagers were saying, “Look President Bush, torture and violation of human rights is immoral.”  If we don’t change our ways it’s going to come back to haunt us.   If we torture others we will eventually become the victims of our own torture.

This past week the congress was unable to reach agreement on immigration policy.  The hang up was over the question of amnesty.  Do people who have lived here illegally get a chance to become legal? Or, shall they be treated as criminals and be punished? 

But throughout the immigration debate, policy makers have generally agreed that it’s a good idea to build a 700 mile fence along our southern border.  Literally and symbolically, America is fast becoming a nation of fence builders.  

Two months ago, American soldiers were told to build a 12 foot high and 3 mile long, gray concrete wall between Shiite and Sunni Muslim communities in Baghdad. Shiite and Sunni Muslims in Baghdad protested, saying they didn’t want to be walled off from each other.   The fence went up anyway.  

Our national life is full of many examples of how we have become a nation better known in the world for building walls rather than bridges.  The handwriting is on the wall.    

There is no greater symbol of America as a bridge to a new way of life – no greater symbol of American Hope than the Statue of Liberty.  When it comes to human liberty, human rights and human dignity, the Statue of Liberty stands tall. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free. Lady Liberty is a powerful image.

Several years ago, I read of someone who was asking the question – is the Statue of Liberty waving goodbye? Is she waving goodbye to the tired, poor and huddled masses? Is she waving goodbye to basic rights and human rights for political prisoners, goodbye to the idea that it’s wrong to start a war? Is the Statue of Liberty waving goodbye?

Karen Hughes was recently giving a speech on behalf of the White House – she was trying to put a better face on America – when an Egyptian man asked – “tell me, does the Statue of Liberty still face out? Or, has it turned its back, is it waving goodbye? Is the handwriting on the wall?

Ever since 9/11 we have walked this tightrope between freedom and fear, and more often than not, fear has won. Fear is the real tyrant that brings us to our knees.  In the presence of fear, we worship security. Feeling secure is important and essential. But when you worship security—when the drive for security becomes your God – you will sell your soul for it.      

During the Viet Nam war there were many people who hated the war protesters and their tactics.  There were people in my own family, church and community who often repeated the mantra, “my country, right or wrong.” 

Several years ago, I came across a quote from English journalist, G. K. Chesterton, who said: “to say, my country right or wrong, is like saying, my grandmother, drunk or sober.” It doesn’t get you anywhere. It doesn’t change anything.  When my country is intoxicated with fear—it does things that are unhealthy.  

It’s no secret that most of the world is not happy with us. We are seen as bullies, we insist on getting our way and when push comes to shove, we refuse to really listen to what our detractors say.

We build walls rather than  bridges.    On  some days that I wish our country was named the united States of Buddhist Consciousness. That way, when our leaders try to tell us we should fear our enemies, we could at least invoke the teaching of dependent origination. Dependent origination teaches that everything that exists is dependent on something else. Every part of life is dependent upon all the other parts of life. The universe is a living organism in which each cell works in balance and cooperation with every other cell in order to sustain the whole.

Our individual well-being is dependent on the well-being of others. My interests and your interests are intimately connected. Every action, word, and thought, no matter how slight or inconsequential, has an implication not only for us but also for all others.    

Nothing exists in itself, of itself, by itself or for itself. Healthy self interest, therefore, always takes into account the interests of others.  Dependent origination. We are all a part of each other. Our hope lies in our recognition that we are all interdependent and interrelated. What effects one of us directly, effects all of us indirectly. Remembering this, changes the way we see ourselves – the way we see each other – the way we see our enemies – dependent origination changes the way we see life.

We’re all in this together.  Look at our country—don’t see this country as divided by political party—don’t see this country as divided by race or class—look around.  It’s not about you and me. It’s about one great big WE.  See the world in this way.  No such thing as you or me, as Mexicans and Americans, as Europeans and Africans or Asians – it’s not you and me. There is only We.  There is only We. If the Statue of Liberty reminds us of anything, let it stand as a declaration of our interdependence.

                                                                                                         blessed  be