Today we honor a man who is, himself, a story… a story in contrasts…here sitting among us is a story of a man who embodies both contemplation and action, who commits his life to both personal, inward peace and global, outward justice…a story of a man who is as “at home” with a ledger sheet full of numbers as he is with a theology book full of footnotes. Thank God that this man, our new Pastor Emeritus Rich Blakley, was present at the formation of our beloved congregation. Thank God! For amidst that long-ago whirlwind of larger-than-life personalities and thrilling new dreams for that then-fledgling congregation, among them stood this Irish leprechaun of a gentle and whimsical soul, helping to keep the whole thing grounded. And here he still stands among us today, with the same gifts (although more well-honed) and the same grounded-ness (with a bit of dirt between his toes!) and that same gentle wit we know and love!
One of my favorite photos of you, Rich, is one that Kathie took during your trip to the Holy Land of Ireland a few years back. As I recall, you are standing on a grassy, windswept hill, the green blanket of Irish fields under your feet and the brilliant blue of an Irish sky framing your body. On your head is a woolen tam and on your face is a look of absolute serenity. You are, as they say, in your element in this photo. It could be anyplace in Ireland, but you and I know that the location is, in fact, the Holy Hill of Tara—that holiest of holies in both Gaelic mythology and Irish history—that sacred place where the great high queens and kings of Ireland were crowned, century after long century. Emanating from this holy hill, generations of people knew justice and enjoyed peace…and when the leaders were not just or peaceful there was soon a new coronation and a new high monarch to try again. The Holy Hill of Tara stands as the center of justice, the center of peace, the center of heart, soul, mind, and body for the Irish people, and there you stand Rich, on top of Tara yourself.
Why do I recount this story today? Well, certainly, so that I can speak a good word about Ireland, having just returned from there myself! But more importantly, because in this particular photo, taken on that particularly sacred piece of real estate, we can visualize a way for each one of us to embody both peace and justice, both contemplation and action. The secret we learn from Rev. Rich Blakley of living at the intersection of those kinds of contrasts is, quite simply, to remain grounded in what to us is holy.
Surprisingly, our scriptures this morning reveal the very same secret of mindful living, mindful renewal if you will, of living in such a way that we have plenty of time for peace and contemplation, with plenty of energy also for justice and action. Easy to fit all that in, you say, when one is, like Rich, retired. Yet look closely at the resolution passed unanimously by this gracious congregation and you will see that Rich has managed to live such a life of contrasts—a life that encompasses justice and peace, contemplation and action—while also working and helping to raise two wonderful sons and crafting a loving marriage with Kathie and even, in the midst of all that, losing his hearing, becoming a medical guinea pig fitted with a new technological hearing device, while also retraining himself in a brand new profession. Talk about an abundance of energy and time! Yes, as marvelous as is that panoramic, breathtaking view from the Holy Hill of Tara, so also is Rich’s lifelong commitment to peace and to justice, to contemplation and to action. The secret, recall with me, has everything to do with remaining grounded in what to us is holy.
Today’s scriptures reveal that same secret—remain grounded in what to you is holy and you will have time for peace and energy for justice. In the familiar reading from Exodus we hear the continuation of a story that has been called “the powerful compelling center of Israel’s defining memory of faith.” The Hebrews have fled Egypt. Their backs are literally against the wall, in this case, a wall of water that has them trapped against a certain death blow from Pharaoh’s vengeful army.
As one commentary author phrased the scene,
“This wasn’t one army against another, however outnumbered and outgunned. This was a ragtag group of impoverished ex-slaves escaping their captors not by their own strength or wits or organizational skills or strategic planning, but by the power of God. Can you imagine how they must have felt, their panic and terror, when the vast armies of Pharaoh appeared on the horizon in hot pursuit? They had lived their entire lives under the heel of this mighty empire, so they were well acquainted with what it could do. However, they were still learning just what their God could do…”
Aha! Did you see that fleeting image of the Holy Hill of Tara dance before your eyes? You should have! For here, in this description of the Hebrews waiting for certain death at the wall of water they knew as the Red Sea, there is also a glimmer of the holiness in which they stood their ground.
“They were still learning just what their God could do…” claims the commentary author. And what God could do in this story was to use a cloud to hide them and wind to whip up the waves and what this God could do now so would this same God continue to do later…to make a way where there seemed to be no way. With their backs against the wall of water and their feet soggy but not submerged, the Hebrew people began to put their trust in this make-a-way God. In the muddy ground of this make-a-way God they planted their first tentative footsteps of justice and entertained their first experimental thoughts of peace. With this make-a-way God their future story was renewed…and so, too, is ours, should we ground ourselves in the God who, for us, is holy.
Lest we begin to see such holy ground as somehow ethereal or unapproachable, as something so long ago as to be rendered irrelevant, let us turn quickly to the gospel story specially selected for today. It is the familiar story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. In our zeal to get to the action, to see the Master become Humble Slave, we may skip over one of the most important lines—perhaps the holy ground itself—of this passage. The author writes, “…having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end…” Love, we see, is the context for Jesus’ decisive and shocking action. Love is the motivation for his taking towel and vessel like a common servant. Love is the vision he hopes to impart to his oft-dense disciples who seem to care more about their own places of power and influence, more about their own capabilities to heal and make miracles, then they do about being grounded themselves in the holy. Jesus dramatically calls them back to that holy ground, that proverbial and ancient hill of Tara if you will, and Jesus invites them to stand there with him…in love.
At the end of this story, Jesus morphs again from servant into teacher, asking them why they think he’s done what he did for them. Bewildered, they sit with their clean feet in silence. Jesus gently prods, “I have given you an example that you also should do as I have done to you…” Concrete, no complicated philosophy or convoluted theology anywhere near… In this story, Jesus does a loving thing, and Jesus tells them he has done this because he loves them, and Jesus commands them to do the same for one another. In just a very few verses later, he will repeat the lesson learned with water and towels wrapped in love, by commanding even more directly, “Just as I have loved you, so you, too, are to love one another.”
Again, friends, did you see that fleeting green hill of Tara pass by? You should have! For once more this morning, our scriptures provide a piece of real estate known as holy ground and that holy ground in which we will find renewal, that holy ground is love. Once more, we are invited to plant our feet—washed or not—on that ground. Once more, we are nudged to be grounded in what is holy, this time by Jesus who says with towel and basin in hand, do that which is loving and receive from others that which is done in love.
The final scripture we read today, the list of admonishments from one of Paul’s later disciples to the gentile church at Ephesus, forms a kind of heavenly teaching for us redheads and for others of like mind, right Rich?! It says plainly, and I quote from chapter 4, verse 26, “Be angry…!” Those two words are like comfort food for us people of red hair…scriptural permission to do what we inevitably will do anyway! But about this anger, the author also adds, “do not let your anger lead you to sin, neither let the sun go down on your anger; let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but use your words to build up and to give grace to those within earshot; put away bitterness and wrath; put away fighting and slander; put away spite and grudges…” Some of us will need some pretty big closets for all these things that shoot up from unchecked anger. But in that closet—put away—is precisely where these hurtful items belong.
By contrast, out in the open, where they may be used daily and enjoyed by others, the author tells us what to keep at hand, easy to get to, easier still to use on a daily basis. He or she writes, “be kind to one another; be tenderhearted; forgive one another as God in Christ has forgiven you.” Kindness, tenderness, loving, forgiving…these are the items and actions for daily use…these are the gifts freely given and gratefully received…these are what make our community vital…these are, quite frankly, what consistently strengthen our urge toward justice and increase our passion for peace.
The large, global issues of our century have been and will continue to be addressed by us here at Redlands UCC, as we trust God like the Hebrews. Our attempts at contemplation and inner peace will grow and deepen, as we take up towel, water, and basin and commit ourselves to loving like Jesus. Our quest for action and our thirst for justice will find a happy partner on the journey from an unnamed Christian author who says simply, “It is ok to be angry but it is not ok not to be kind…when we are not ok, when we are unkind, it is not ok not to forgive…”
Our ancient sisters and brothers—from the Holy Hill of Tara to the wilderness wall of water to the Promised Land where a towel and basin become the teacher—these siblings in faith bring us a barrel full of tools to ground ourselves for the journey ahead. And I join our new Pastor Emeritus in hoping that our journey will continue to be what as it has been for the past 33 years…but even stronger and more faithfully a journey of peace and of justice, a pilgrimage of action and of contemplation, an adventure that is, because we daily choose it to be, rooted and grounded in love.
