"Dragon or no dragon...we shall not be moved" Sermon for 13 February 2022

 

Sermon for Sunday 13 February 2022

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable unto your sight O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Amen.

I’d like to tell you a story.

There was a young girl named Margaret who was born in Antioch, in what is now Turkey. Her father was a pagan priest and her mother died shortly after birth. She was nursed by a Christian woman, and soon adopted by her, and also adopted her faith. This was during the Roman persecution of Christians by the emperor Diocletian, around the year 304 AD.

When Margaret came of age, a Roman governor requested to marry her, on the condition that she renounce her Christian faith. When she refused, she was cruelly tortured. By one account was eaten by Satan who appeared in the form of a dragon.

Unfortunately for the dragon, Margaret was holding a small wooden cross in her hand when he decided to eat her for lunch. From inside his belly, Margaret poked the dragon with the cross, irritating his innards, until he spat her out and she escaped alive.

Today, Margaret (sometimes known as Marina) is now venerated in the Eastern Orthodox Church, the Coptic Church, and the Catholic Church, and more than 250 churches in England are named after her--even though it is almost universally acknowledged that certain parts of this story MAY not actually have happened and that Margaret MAY not have existed in the 4^th century…or, to be honest, at all.

Now, I’m telling you about Margaret because in a conversation the other day I referred to her as one of my patron saints. I even have a tattoo of her on my right arm! I was saying to a friend that I think of her as an example of fighting the institution from the inside, of battling the forces of evil and boldly speaking truth to power! My tattoo actually says “Margaret the Dragonslayer”, after all, I said.

And then the wise friend who had listened to my personal interpretation said, “Well yes, Carrie, but also: Margaret shows us how, even when we are in the hardest moments of our lives, we can endure. Even when we are in the belly of the beast, God is with us and stands with us. The cross that Margaret carried--a symbol of God’s presence--gave her the courage to trust in God, and to choose to live, dragon or no dragon.”

After a moment of awkward silence I simply said: Amen!

It seems to me that my friend’s interpretation of the Margaret story echoes the themes of our readings for today. The prophet Jeremiah tells us:

“Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream.”

And the psalmist says it only slightly differently:

“Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.”

Those who trust in God are like trees planted by the water. Their roots go far and deep. They can withstand any weather, any season. Their leaves do not wither. Those who trust in God have the courage to endure and to live…dragon or no dragon.

In the African-American tradition, there is a well-known slave jubilee hymn which proclaims “Like a tree planted by the water, I shall not be moved.” These words became popular again during the civil rights movement of the 1960s, as black Americans stood firmly and nonviolently for their right to live and thrive, even in the face of police violence, unjust laws, racial hatred from their neighbors, and a system designed to keep them down. Their trust in God helped them to endure…dragon or no dragon.

Those who trust in God are like trees planted by the water.

I have learned from Palestinian Christians the concept of “sumud” or “steadfastness.” This word doesn’t exactly translate into English. I have heard it described as the “attitude of an olive tree”. Olive trees in this part of the world have seen it all. They have endured in a hot and dry climate, with soil that is less than favorable, through a multitude of wars and occupations. Some of our olive trees here are hundreds if not thousands of years old. They are steadfast. They have “sumud.”

Most of these olive trees are not planted by the water…but that’s the point. The Scriptures say that those who trust in the Lord are LIKE trees planted by the water, not that they are guaranteed to BE planted by the water. In other words, they flourish in spite of the dry soil. In spite of the war. In spite of occupation. We too, when we trust God, are safe in God: in spite of cancer or COVID or divorce or unemployment or depression or any of the things life may throw at us. Those who trust in the Lord are safe and secure, even in the belly of the beast. Dragon or no dragon.

Jesus also has a few things also to say about what it means to trust God, and it doesn’t look like “letting go and letting God”.

Some folks do often interpret “Trust the Lord” to mean this kind of passive response to wickedness, evil, or injustice. I see this happen a lot in relation to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I can’t count the number of times I’ve spoken to church groups about how the ongoing occupation affects Christians in the Holy Land, and about how Israelis and Palestinians alike will continue to suffer until we find a peaceful solution, only to be met with shrugs, and hands in the air, and often the phrase, “Well, you know nothing will be solved over there until Jesus comes back.”

Friends, this isn’t letting go and letting God. This is letting ourselves off the hook.

Trusting in the Lord is not the same as sitting on our hands until Jesus comes back. Actually, sometimes we need to take our trust in God and poke the dragon with it.

Sometimes we need to take our faith and trust and use it to fill the valleys and bring the mountains low, to make the crooked paths straight and the rough ways smooth. Sometimes we need to lift high the cross—not in battle, but in protest, speaking truth to power, until all of our neighbors experience the peace and justice and equity of God’s kingdom, on earth as it is in heaven.

 

This is a tall order, and we may wonder if we have what it takes. But friends, God is good. Christ is crucified and raised. We have the Holy Scriptures which enlighten and strengthen us. We have the Holy Spirit to convict and send us. And we have the witness of the saints who have gone before us: civil rights activists and martyrs, Israeli and Palestinian peace makers, and of course Margaret, real or not, dragon or no dragon! These faithful ones remind us to hold on to the cross, and to notice God standing with us, even in the belly of the beast. Like trees, planted by the water, we shall not be moved.

 

I’ll end with a prayer poem by Clarissa Estes called: Refuse to fall down.

 

Refuse to fall down

If you cannot refuse to fall down,

refuse to stay down.

If you cannot refuse to stay down,

lift your heart toward heaven,

and like a hungry beggar,

ask that it be filled.

You may be pushed down.

You may be kept from rising.

But no one can keep you from lifting your heart

toward heaven

only you.

It is in the middle of misery

that so much becomes clear.

The one who says nothing good

came of this,

is not yet listening.”

 

― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die