Lent 1c.07                                                       February 25, 2007

Annie Turnbull is a bright-eyed, dark-haired young woman
        with a winning smile.
This week I have been reading her Blog.
She is from London, but she posts her messages these days
        from Uganda where she does health assessments
                with the International Medical Corps.
Civil war makes the job both hard and dangerous.

Her Blog describes the oddities of her life,
       learning to eat grasshoppers in season,
       and relaxing at a bar called “God’s Mercy.”
The most unsettling part of her job is helping families headed
       by 14 or 15 year old children caring for
       four or five younger brothers and sisters.

She writes:

      “These children have witnessed violence at close quarters.
      Some . . . have seen their parents and relatives killed.
      (They) muddle through on food supplied by the World Food Program,
      but being hungry, growing children . . . they often finish off everything
               by the 2nd week of the month.
      It is . . . disturbing to hear such small children talk
               about their nightmares and flashbacks.
     The hope is that we may get funding to work with these children
     helping them earn an income and grow food for themselves,
     and providing them counseling and HIV/AIDS tests.”

But let’s talk about religion.
Jesus had the original born again experience
       at the Jordan River.
He walked into the water an ordinary carpenter,
       for a ritual of repentance – what we do in Lent.
After he was baptized, he prayed,
       and while he was praying,
       the sky opened and a voice told him
                he was the Son of God.

If we look at many mayors, police chiefs, department chairs,
       county commissioners, and CEO’s,
                we see what status usually does to us.
Now Jesus had just become equal with God.
That was real status.
And if Jesus had operated out of ego,
       he might have immediately begun
                ordering people around.

But he wasn’t operating out of ego.
Instead he went into the wilderness
       to sort out how to live his life – again, what we do in Lent.
There he was tempted by Satan to make himself
       safe, secure, and important.
Like Jesus, we are tempted
       to live for ourselves in general,
       and especially to use our religion for ourselves.

We look for a church where we will “feel comfortable”

       – one with the right menu of programs
                to “meet our spiritual needs.”
We want religion to give us comfort,
       peace of mind, and a happy life.
In short, we are tempted to reduce
       the Gospel to a self-help book.

Jesus’ temptation was much the same;
       only he had a better chance than we do
               of actually making it work.
But he rejected the temptations of Satan, the seductions of ego.
Jesus said “no” to a religion that served his own interests,
        even his own so-called spiritual interests.

Instead, he announced,

        “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me
        because he has anointed me to proclaim
        good news to the poor.
        He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
        and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to set at liberty those who are oppressed. . .”

Just so, repentance isn’t feeling intensely guilty.
It’s changing direction from a life for self to a life for others.
Being born again isn’t an emotional experience.
It’s discovering a new and larger purpose.
We no longer live for ourselves
        but for Christ and those he served.

We are reborn not as ego, not as a me-first consciousness,
                 but as lovers of God and God’s creation,
        here to serve “the poor, the captives, the blind, the oppressed.”

In Burundi, 60% of the population is malnourished,
        the average life expectancy is 40,
        and half of the population us under the age of 15.
Numbers like that have always made us shake our heads
        in despair.
It sounds so hopeless.

But the Gospel today, the good news today,
        is that there is ample reason to hope.
And the hope doesn’t depend on miracles – just human decency.
Advances in technology and the world economy
        have given birth to tremendous hope.

We are the first generation that has the capacity
        to eradicate extreme poverty around the world.
We have already reduced poverty in the past decade
        to a degree heretofore unimaginable.

In the year 2,000, the largest gathering of world leaders in history
        resolved to do the right thing – actually 8 right things.
Through the UN and through the governments
        of the world’s most powerful nations,
        we have resolved to do 8 right things
                 called the Millennium Development Goals:
first, to extend universal primary education and develop economies
        that will eradicate extreme poverty.
That means children in Uganda and Burundi will grow up
        to feed themselves with food they have grown.

We have resolved to create a sustainable environment
        which means halting global warming
                and cleaning up the Kibra slum
                in Nairobi where children today play in raw sewage.
We have resolved to dramatically reduce child mortality
        and maternal mortality which kills 529,000 women each year

                – 99% of them in developing nations.
We have resolved to reverse the spread of AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis.

These good things can be done.
It still won’t be a perfect world.
There will still be poverty and injustice.
But it can be a world where children have hope
         and a chance at a decent life – where children have mothers.

It can be done.
Those of you who attended our study series last Lent,
         or Tanya Melville’s adult education class last Fall,
         or yesterday’s workshop on the Millennium Development Goals
                  know the facts behind this bold clam.
We can, today, as never before in history,

         “proclaim good news to the poor. . . .
         release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind.”
We can “set at liberty those who are oppressed. . .”

But the governments can’t do it alone.
Governments won’t do it at all without advocates for the poor
         insisting that they keep their promises.
And they can’t do it in time without NGO’s sharing the load.
The Episcopal Church is a leader in the effort.
Our Presiding Bishop has dedicated this Sunday
         to the ONE Campaign for the Millennium Development Goals.
We are a leader, but we are far from alone.
Tonight’s special offering will go to Oxfam,

         [one of Bono’s preferred aid organizations.]
They have been at this since 1942.

There is plenty that we can do right here.
First, we can know the facts, know the needs,
         and know what can be done.
If you missed our previous courses,
         there’s another series Thursday nights in Lent at 7:30
         or read Sabina Alkire’s book, What Can One Person Do?

We can sign the ONE Declaration.
You can do it on-line. Just go to www.one.org.
We can join in advocacy efforts like Bread for the World,
        which reminds our governments to keep their promises.

Especially during the season of Lent
     we can give money to support the Millennium Development Goals,
     through our church or agencies like Oxfam, Care, or Save The Children.
It doesn’t matter which one.
Go to www.one.org, click on Partners, and you’ll find a long list
     of worthy, reputable agencies working for the poor.

And then if we want to ask the religious question,
        if we want to know if we have been born again,
        we can check to see who we are living for.
If we are still living for ourselves alone,
        we need some more re-birthing.
We need rebirthing into the Spirit that anoints us
        to let the oppressed go free.

                                               Amen.