Matthew 10:24-33 (Jeremiah 20:7-13)                    Susan J. Barnes
St. Matthew’s, Austin                                    23 June 2002


Come Holy Spirit. Abide with us in our days of joy, in our days of sorrow, and through all eternity. Amen.

Let me begin by thanking you. First the army of people who took part my ordination service and the reception, who made the church a sparkling showcase and a haven of hospitality. Will you please stand? Those who prepared food, arranged flowers, who set up, who sang, the altar guild, ushers, my sponsors, all the staff, LEMs--anybody else. Thank all of the rest of you, too, for your love, for your presence and your prayers, for your gifts, for the outpouring of generosity with which you made my ordination the most beautiful, joyous, spirit-filled service that anyone could ever hope to have. I feel so blessed, so loved; indeed, I know the love of God fills this place and flows through all of you. The feeling of that love makes us know how far St. Matthew's has come on the road of healing, to wholeness, to health---thanks to the great, great love, the powerful ministry of Fr. Joe.

Healthy institutions, healthy families, healthy congregations can stand proudly in the light, proclaim God's truth, and share God's love with the world. Healthy congregations--like healthy people--have the responsibility to reach out to help others, open their arms in love to welcome the suffering, the wounded, to hear the hard truths of other peoples' lives and help them along in the healing process. Today's scriptures face us with an unsavory but inescapable truth of human life: suffering is part of the human condition. And God's people are not exempted. Quite the contrary, it seems. Jeremiah, who has just been beaten and imprisoned by the chief priest, laments his own persecution in today's reading. The gospel is part of the Jesus' word to the disciples about their coming persecutions. Both texts are all the more dispiriting because they point out that it is those nearest to us who can hurt us the most. Jeremiah's close friends mock him. And in the verses just before these in Matthew, Jesus predicts that brother will betray brother.

The truth that those closest to us, including friends and family members betray and damage us has been brought home to us all lately, especially through the scandals shaking the Roman church. (And we all know that those evils aren’t just in the Roman church; they permeate society.) What I am about to say is very hard, indeed. In just the last two weeks, several friends--none of them in this congregation, they don't even live here--have told me the stories of their being abused as children. One was molested by her father, another by a cousin--who was a Catholic priest--another was beaten brutally throughout her childhood by her mother.

Alas, these aren't the first friends whose stories of abuse I have heard; they are just the latest. The friends are all women more or less my age, and from the social and economic background as I. They are all responsible, successful professionals. Their stories, and the fact that with the other stories I know come from perhaps 15% of my close friends, suggest that the statistics about child abuse are woefully under the mark. One figure I saw on the Web was 8.9 children in 10,000: outrageously small. Of course, none of the cases I know has been reported. Most cases we know probably never will be reported, whom would they tell after all these years. There’s nobody collecting the information.

Why did so much abuse happen? Perhaps, in part because the girls my age and older did not feel entitled not to be abused in any way: verbally, physically, sexually, mentally. We did not know the word "abuse", much less the concept, so women had no way to name it. Too often, because they were threatened if they told, the victims had no place to turn with their violation, their sorrow, their shame. So they buried it. I suspect that the memories are surfacing now in part because the scandals have finally allowed them to think they might be believed. It is one way that God is bringing good out of this evil that the victims may now feel safe enough to begin deal with their memories.

Child abuse is my focus today, but we could talk about many other categories of abuse--many other circumstances in which the fundamental dignity of human beings is violated.

I apologize for sharing these painful things with you. But share them we must, especially in church. Why? Because our Jesus called us to free the oppressed, and victims of abuse are oppressed. Because our baptismal vows include the pledge to work for justice and peace, and to respect the dignity of every human being. So, if we don't talk about these things here, where can we?

There are other reasons to do so. First, because they are true. Jesus said that the truth will set us free. Abuse is real. Victims of abuse suffer even more when they bury their pain, when they bear their abuse in silence and shame. As we have seen, silence protects the perpetrators. Silence and shame are the enemies of truth and healing. One of the many wisdom phrases from A.A. is "You are only as sick as your secrets."

Second, because we are a healthy community, a healthy family. We can deal with this. We are called by God to minister to the suffering in our midst. Make no mistake, there are victims of abuse all around us—in our schools, in our neighborhoods, our clubs. And, of course, in our own pews.

Third, because abuse of all people MUST STOP, beginning with children, who are the least powerful. Abuse can only stop when we all admit that it exists, that it is an outrage, that it can and must be put to an end.

Finally, because God can and will transform suffering, God can and will heal the most horrendous wounds with grace and love. Psychic wounds, like physical ones can only heal from the inside out. They must be aired, brought to the light and love of God. Only God can truly heal psychic wounds, the wounds of the soul. Christian churches must be the places that foster that healing--the safeplaces of our world—the light-houses, the beacons in the darkness, where all abused people can be received with respect and kindness, where they can find listening hearts, open minds, where they can be assured they will be heard.

As Christians we are the bearers of the Good News that God transforms us. God makes us new and makes us whole. We wear the sign of the cross, the symbol of that transformation. In the words of the song: "that instrument of torture, cruel and gory is now a sign of endless life." Jeremiah knew that God was with him even while he suffered; he knew that God's justice would finally prevail. Jesus assured the disciples that God would be with them in their own suffering, and that they would be delivered.

As Christians we dwell in paradox: we preach Jesus crucified, yes, but Christ resurrected and given eternal life with God. That paradox is evoked in the Prayer Book in the Collect for Friday: "the way of the cross is none other than the way of life and peace".

Through Jesus Christ God has promised us eternal life. That is the ultimate Good News. But we don't have to wait until we die to be with God.

And so we proclaim the Good news of God here among us: Emmanuel.

But we must be clear about what that means.
The Good News is not that innocent people will live in perfect peace, not that children and all people will be sheltered from abuse.
The Good News is not that we will be free of pain and suffering, not that bad things will not happen to good people. Tragedy, trauma, accidents happen; the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike.

The Good News is that God is with us in the suffering; that God does not abandon us to pain and to shame.
The Good News is that that God abides.
The Good News is that God is light, that when we bring trauma to God's light that God heals.
The Good News is that God--that good--will prevail in the fullness of time.