Resurrection from Bigotry
SCRIPTURE TEXT: Acts 11:1-18
Rev. Monte Marshall
We’re still in the Easter season today, and we’re telling resurrection stories. We’re celebrating all the ways in which resurrection is possible in our lives, moving us from despair to hope, from darkness to light, from death to life.
This morning we’re telling stories about resurrection from bigotry. Let’s pray: God of the empty tomb, roll away the stones that prevent us from beholding your glory. Unlock our capacity for resurrection. Accept our intentions to live in your liberating love and empower us with your grace. We open the doors of our lives to your healing, inspiring and sustaining Spirit, as we pray in the name of the One who is our threshold to new life. Amen.
Bigotry is an attitude, a state of mind, or a behavior, rooted and grounded in fear, that says “I can’t tolerate you. I can’t tolerate you because you’re less than me; you’re inferior to me, you’re lower than me. I can’t tolerate you because you don’t think like me; you don’t look like me; you don’t act like me; you don’t vote like me. I can’t tolerate you because you’re an outsider and I’m an insider; you’re a foreigner and I’m a citizen; you’re gay and I’m straight; you’re poor and I’m rich; you’re uneducated and I have a college degree; you’re homeless and I’m housed. I can’t tolerate you because of your race, your ethnicity, your nationality, your tribe, your clan, your family, your religion.
I can’t tolerate you so I’ll hate you; I’ll demonize you; I’ll dehumanize you; I’ll degrade you; I’ll demean you. I can’t tolerate you so I’ll treat you as a second class citizen; I’ll write laws that oppress you; I’ll elect leaders who persecute you. I can’t tolerate you so I’ll separate from you; I’ll segregate from you; I’ll wall you in; I’ll shut you out. I can’t tolerate you so I’ll call you names; I’ll push you around; I’ll bully you; I’ll beat you up; I’ll cut you up, I’ll shoot you up; and who knows, I may even do you in. I can’t tolerate you because the truth is, I’m better than you.”
Bayard Rustin once said that “Bigotry’s birthplace is the sinister back room of the mind where plots and schemes are hatched for persecution and oppression of other human beings.”2 So this is the kind of life that bigots lead. But is this life?
Well, it doesn’t seem like life to me. To my way of thinking, bigotry buries the bigot in a lifeless tomb. But here’s the good news: In lifeless tombs, resurrection is possible!
Consider this morning’s resurrection story from Acts. The story begins with an acknowledgement of bigotry. But please bear in mind that even though this story deals with the interaction of Judaism with the early church, bigotry is not just a Jewish problem, or a Jewish Christian problem—bigotry is a human problem. Anti-Semitism, for example, is a form of bigotry that, in my view, every follower of Jesus should abhor. But as we all know, that often has not been the case throughout history, as the Holocaust attests.
With that being said, here’s the story: The leaders of First Church, Jerusalem, had heard a rumor that Gentiles—or non-Jews—had accepted the word of God. This was a shock. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
In those early days of the church in the first century, many followers of Jesus believed that to be a Christian you also had to be a Jew. The laws and practices of Judaism had to be kept. Many Christians believed that the word of God was reserved for Israel, and Israel alone. Many Christians believed that the Holy Spirit was available to Israel, and Israel alone.
Gentiles were considered unclean. They worshipped idols. They ate non-kosher foods. They didn’t keep the covenant. They lived in ways that were repulsive to God and God’s people, or so it was thought.
So Gentiles were called dogs. Faithful Jewish Christians were not to eat with Gentiles or enter the house of a Gentile. Separation was to be maintained.
But then a report was received from Caesarea that Gentiles had accepted the word of God and that Peter, of all people, had actually visited in a Gentile home, and eaten at a Gentile table.
Peter had some explaining to do so he went up to Jerusalem. His opponents questioned him: “So you have been visiting the Gentiles and eating with them, have you?”
Peter responded with a resurrection story. The story revealed that in Joppa, Peter’s religious bigotry had been challenged and that his mind had been changed because of a vision and a voice that said to him: “Don’t call profane what God made clean.”
Peter then followed the Spirit. He and six other believers went with three couriers to Caesarea. Peter and the others entered the house of a Gentile named Cornelius. He heard Cornelius tell a story about an angel proclaiming salvation for Cornelius and his entire household through the message that Peter would bring.
And then, the Holy Spirit came upon the Gentiles. Peter said to his Jerusalem opponents: “I realized then that God was giving them the same gift that had been given to us when we came to believe in our Savior Jesus Christ. And who am I to stand in God’s way?”
In that moment, as the story goes, bigotry gave way to resurrection as the leaders of the Jerusalem church “gave glory to God, saying, ‘God has granted the repentance that leads to life—even to Gentiles!’”
It’s in resurrection stories like this that I’ve been able to find new life. As I’ve told you before, I was raised to be a bigot. Now please understand, I thank God for my family. They loved me, and in so many ways, they taught me how to love.
But there was also bigotry in my family. I was born in 1952 in South Texas. I remember hearing a story about one of my grandmother’s relatives who apparently, used to meet with the KKK on a hill north of town called “Ku Klux Hill.” As I was growing up, I heard my mother and my father and their white friends use the “n” word. African-American and Hispanic men were often referred to as “boys.” I was taught that it was unacceptable to date or to marry someone of a different race, ethnicity or religion.
During all of the turmoil around race in the late fifties and into the sixties, I don’t remember my parents saying anything supportive of the Civil Rights Movement. I do recall that they made comments deploring the breakdown of law and order. And I don’t think I ever heard either one of my parents say anything positive about Dr. King and the other leaders of the Civil Rights Movement. When they said anything at all, their comments were always negative.
I was raised to be a bigot in another way. I grew up in a culture, in a church, and in a family that taught me to treat homosexual persons as deviant, abnormal and perverted. I was exposed to the biblical interpretations used to condemn homosexuality. I used epithets to speak of homosexual persons. I was uncomfortable around persons suspected of homosexuality for fear that the mere association would cause others to be suspicious of my own sexuality.
In these ways and more, I was raised to be a bigot. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t contend with this legacy. That “sinister back room of the mind” is a part of me.
But thanks be to God, I’ve changed and I’m changing! Somehow or another, by the grace of God, the Spirit touched my life and opened me up to the pain that bigotry causes to others, and I concluded that despite my upbringing, I wanted to take no part in inflicting this pain on others. I wanted to heal instead of hurt.
And I met people—people different than me—and yet human like me. And it dawned on me: Who am I to see myself as better than someone else? Who am I to be intolerant and afraid of others who are human beings just like me—and created by God just like me—and loved by God just like me—and gifted by the Spirit just like me? I don’t want to live my life as a bigot because that’s no life at all! I want to live my life as a follower of Jesus Christ—the one who has led me and countless others out of bigotry’s tomb and into life!
So this is the good news: Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia! No matter how bigoted we may be, God has plans for us—plans for light and life! Can our lives be turned around? Can we find new life when everything feels lifeless? Can light shine in what feels like an empty tomb? The answer is YES, YES, YES! Then our stories—then each story—can be a resurrection story. Thanks be to God. Amen.