Salt and Light

​Our Gospel reading for this morning reminds us of our public responsibility as Christian people. Jesus calls us the “salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” We are supposed to be a city built on a hill. We are supposed to let our light shine before others so that people can come to know and glorify God better.
 
The image of a city on a hill is important for us as a nation as well. It was how John Winthrop described his hopes for the colony he was founding in 1630, and it has been an aspiration for our nation ever since. We aim to be a light to the world, promoting our national values of equality and liberty, life and the pursuit of happiness.
 
I don’t know how you hear Jesus in our reading. It’s a little much for me. I don’t feel much like the salt of the earth, or the light of the world, or a city set on a hill. But, however we may feel, that is what Jesus says we are supposed to do and be.
 
This week the Episcopal Bishops, 154 of them, have invited us to reflect on what it means right now to be salt and light, particularly in the heated debates about how we are enforcing our immigration policies. The Bishops encourage us to trust our moral compass, stand by our values, and act as our conscience demands.
 
I hope all of you will read their statement. It’s available online and there are copies in the narthex. Not all of us will agree with everything they say, but they raise important issues for us as Christian people.
 
I confess that I am struggling to see the right way forward.
 
Here is my image of myself. Many of you know that I recently suffered a mild concussion. To heal, I have to rest my brain, which turns out not to be something I am good at. What that means in practice is, I sit in an easy chair for several hours a day with a blindfold over my eyes listening to music or audiobooks. It’s great at first, but gets old fast.
 
I am often in my post when Carrie comes home. Carrie bustles around, getting settled. I can hear her, but not see her. Sometimes I know what she is doing, but often I have no clue. If, for example, she is bringing in a heavy package, I would normally help. But if I am wearing my blindfold, I don’t know what is going on and therefore don’t know how to engage, how to be helpful.
 
That’s how I feel in this political moment. Much is happening that I cannot see, which makes it hard for me to engage in a helpful way. But that doesn’t mean I should just sit, passive and blindfolded, while things go on. That would be to ignore my Christian calling to be salt and light. It just means I have to engage with humility and openness.
 
So, here are my struggles as I ponder what my conscience demands. I have more questions than answers.
 
I start with what is obvious. We need to enforce our laws, which means punishing people who break them. But the Constitution prohibits cruel and unusual punishments. The question is, where is the line between legitimate punishment and cruel and unusual punishment?
 
Many of you have heard of Sharia, which is Muslim religious law. Sharia is interpreted in different ways, but in some countries, it is harsh. In countries like Saudi Arabia, the punishment for petty theft is cutting off the thief’s hands. This is not Sharia, but some of you will remember a case from several years ago when an American citizen was arrested in Singapore for spitting in public. The punishment was flogging.
 
My guess is, Saudi Arabia has fewer problems with theft than we do, and that Singapore is considerably cleaner than most American cities. Still, those punishments seem excessive to most Americans. They cross the line from legitimate law enforcement into cruelty.
 
I think we should be reflecting together as a nation on where that line is in the enforcement of our immigration laws. Maybe that reflection is happening in a serious way, but if so, it is happening out of my sight.
 
But the more immediately pressing issue right now is not abstract policy. The more immediate issue is allegations that some ICE agents have abused their authority.
 
I don’t want to speak about specific cases. But here is what I know. Some ICE agents have abused their authority. I say that not because they are ICE agents but because they are human beings, and whenever you have lots of human beings, some of them are going to do bad things.
 
It’s a lesson I learned from my own profession, the clergy. I mean the clergy sex abuse scandals. And it’s not just a Catholic problem. I read a book by two women, one Baptist and one Presbyterian, about sexual abuse in their denominations. I know at least two Episcopal priests who have been arrested for sexual crimes.
 
What some clergymen have done is horrible. But it’s not surprising. In every large group of people, some are going to act badly. We know that.
 
The question is, what should the institution do when credible allegations of sexual abuse are made? That’s where the Catholic Church failed so publicly. Too often, the Church protected and defended the abusers, which did additional harm to the victims. In the worst cases, the Church left the abusers in place or moved them to a new place where they could continue to prey on vulnerable people.
 
The question for us on immigration enforcement is the same. Abuse will happen, that’s inevitable. But what will we do as a nation when credible allegations are made? My hope is that we are not repeating the mistakes of the Catholic Church, that we are moving to address abuses and doing everything we can to prevent future abuses. I’m not sure that is the case.
 
These were never easy issues to talk about, and talking honestly and respectfully about them with people who disagree has only gotten harder in recent decades.
 
But one of the gifts of this parish is that we don’t all agree on politics. Politics are not what hold us together. Our Christian convictions are what hold us together.  
 
My hope and my prayer is that we can grapple seriously with the important issues of our time, that we can  aspire to serving as salt and light for our world, that we can proclaim our commitment pursuing justice and peace, to respecting the dignity of every human being, and to loving our neighbors as ourselves, all our neighbors.
 
I invite you this week to spend time in prayer on this issue. Include in your prayers God’s blessing on the people in our country who need to be arrested and deported, as well as those who are here legitimately but are afraid. Include the many ICE agents who are doing their job conscientiously and well, along with those who are abusing their authority. And ask God to bless our political and religious leaders with wisdom and compassion as they grapple with difficult issues.
 
Prayer is not all we should do. But prayer is something that we must do.
 
My own prayer is that we can continue to pray and work to help change this world from the nightmare it is for some into the dream that God has for it. And I pray that in Christ’s name. Amen.