“The Exile of Hopelessness”

Psalm 137

A sermon preached by James Maxey Moravek

February 20, 2005

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

 

Good morning, my name is Jim Moravek and I will be giving the message today while Doug is out of town.  I am fifty five and a seminary student at United Theological Seminary studying to become an ordained American Baptist minister.  This will become a second career for me when I graduate in three to four years.  For thirty three years I have worked in the corporate world as an electrical engineer and some four years ago felt the presence of God and God’s call into ministry.  The journey with God has been long with much more to go, but for today, standing before you and in the presence of God; I stop and give you this message.  May these words be of God and provide guidance in the understanding of God’s words.

In our scripture today, the Psalmist laments about the exile to a foreign land, the land of their enemy.  The Psalmist laments that their captors even ask them to sing songs of joy and even songs of Zion.  The cruelty is unbearable; the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, the death of many people, the long walk to exile and now this, sing a song of joy for your enemy. 

To sing they would need their harps, but even the harps are in exile, hanging in the willow trees.  The harps could be played except for the hearts of the people; their hearts are broken by destruction, death and exile.  How can one sing a song of joy with a broken heart?  How can one sing a song of Zion while in captivity in a foreign land?  How can one sing a song of joy when not in Jerusalem?  Wouldn’t this be an affront to Jehovah?  Oh may they become deaf and dumb and no words leave their mouths if they even try to sing.

The Psalm doesn’t end here.  Their Temple and holy city had been destroyed.  Many have been killed and those left alive had been driven like cattle to a foreign land; driven there to become slaves to the wishes of their captors.  The Psalmist shouts that the time of revenge will come.  The Edomites will curse the day they were born when the Israeli people return to rebuild Jerusalem.  The Psalmist looks to the people of Babylon and tells them they are doomed to destruction.  The Psalmist says that the Israeli’s will shout with glee as they stand on the broken, dead bodies of the people of Babylon.

Needless to say, this Psalm is complex and rich in meaning.  It can be read in many ways with emphasis on different parts.  The one common thought that is prevalent, however, is that this is a Psalm about exile and the emotions of the people in exile.  The emotions of sorrow, sadness, anger and revenge are obvious throughout.  The thoughts of joy, happiness and acceptance seem far removed from anything the Psalmist says.  The Psalmist has stated the obvious for those who want to hear.

Exiled people throughout the written history of humankind have known this to be true.  Look at the people of history who have been forced by slavery, political or religious exile to leave their country or church. Just as it was for the Israeli’s, somebody more powerful either wanted what they had or what they represented.  Somebody more powerful wanted to tell them what to do, how to do it and for whom.  Just like the Israeli’s, exiled people emotions are of sorrow, sadness, anger and revenge.   

Think about some of the people of exile today: Native Americans, people of color, the aged, the poor, the homeless, immigrants, illegal aliens, the mentally ill, the GLBT, the handicapped, people in prostitution, people with addictions, and even some liberal Baptist in the United States of America.  The list is endless and the types of exile are just as endless.  Yes, the Psalmist was not just lamenting about the Israeli in exiles so many centuries ago, the Psalmist was also lamenting about the people in exile today, including people living in the United States of America.

What is it like to be in exile in your own country, in your workplace or at home? In the history of this free country many people have felt this way.  What about Roger Williams who moved in exile to Rhode Island because he couldn’t find religious freedom from religious tyranny in Massachusetts.  Chief Joseph, who only wanted to live in peace on his ancestor’s lands, but forced into exile because white Christians felt it was their God given manifest destiny to have his people’s land.  Native American children forced into exile to attend Christian boarding schools, Baptist, Presbyterian, Methodist and others, where both their ancestral ways and religion was beaten out of them to make them human and acceptable for conversion from heathens to Christians.   Black Africans forcibly taken from their homes in Africa, shipped across the ocean in exile to work as the property of white Christian slave masters.  Black families, their names taken from them, separated as live stock.  Black men worked liked beasts of burden.  Black women subjected to the lust of the white males of households.  Black children being treated like toys, tossed to the highest bidder.

Since it is difficult to truly understand people without a name or a face let me put names to some black slaves who were property and worked on the property of white Christians in Virginia some 2 1/2 centuries ago.  Let me read from this book, The Maxey’s of Virginia, to bring some reality into the sanctuary today regarding my discussion on exile.  In this book is the will of Radford Maxey who died in 1771.  The will reads as follows

 

“I Radford Maxey being sick in body but of sound mind and memory thankful to God for it do make this last will and testament in manner as followeth and first I do order that all        my just debts be first paid, to wit; I give and bequeath to my loving son Josiah Maxey one hundred pounds to be paid in two years, one feather bed and furniture, one horse named             Dobin;

 

ITEM, I give and bequeath to my loving daughter Susana Maxey one negro named Abigal, one feather bed and furniture, one horse of eight pounds price, saddle and bridle and one chince gown;

 

ITEM, I give and bequeath to my loving daughter Croshea Maxey, to wit, one negro boy named Joe, one feather bed and furniture, one horse of eight pounds price, saddle and bridle and one chince gown;

 

ITEM, I give and bequeath to my daughter Elizabeth Maxey, to wit, the child that my negro woman Amea is now pregnant with if living, if not the next one, feather bed and furniture, one horse of eight pounds price, saddle and bridle and one chince gown;

 

ITEM, I lend to my loving wife during her widowhood the land I now live on and stock and negros known as Jupiter, Simon, Jack, Agge, Amea, Pat and Bidey.”

 

What are you thinking right now?  Are you thinking about animals, human beings and furniture being lumped into the same category of goods?  Are you thinking about a horse with a name and a human being without?  Are you thinking about an unborn baby already being exiled into slavery?

What kind of people are on the exile list today?  Let’s put another name to a face, because as I have said, it’s harder to make somebody disappear if they have a name and a face.  Look at me, my name is Jim.  I am 55 years old and have a mental illness.  I am bi-polar.  I am not ashamed of whom I am and what I am, yet there are people who want me to disappear.  They want me to disappear because I take work away from younger people.  I have too much knowledge and am paid too much money.  For many cultures somebody of my age and experience is an asset but in this culture I am a liability.  I have been exiled to the land of unemployment where the false songs of retirement are sung by the bloated sirens of corporate America.      

  If my age wasn’t an issue by itself, being bi-polar is the frosting on the cake.  I made the mistake of being honest and told my employer about it. I was going through a tough time of adjustments to my medicine and didn’t know if I might miss work.  For those of you with depression, you know that finding the right combination of medicines is both time consuming and freighting.  If you have a crash and the bottom drops out there isn’t always a safety net.  From that day forward I was treated differently.  Responsibilities started to be slowly taken away from me.  My so called friends in the corporate world became silent and turned their backs.  What I needed was support and understanding and what I got was cultural segregation.  I became a non-entity and didn’t exist among my former peers. 

It’s amazing the perfection that exists in corporate America and if you do not meet the standards you are put into corporate exile.  There I was, over fifty and mentally ill; I didn’t meet the perfection standards and had to disappear.  Something worse than exile happens when somebody more powerful doesn’t want you at all, you become a nothing exiled into a vacuum.

   In many ways it was like being in ancient Israel and worshipping at the Temple.  If you were a blemish free male, perfect in all God given ways, you, as a male could go into the Temple and worship.  If you weren’t blemish free something was wrong with you and you couldn’t worship God in the Temple.  You were exiled to the outside of the Temple and had to stay with the women and the aliens.  Does this sound familiar to you in today’s corporate America?

My wife, Colleen has had to live with the glass ceiling for many years.  We all know what this means, equal qualifications but less than equal pay and little or no promotions.  But as you know the glass ceiling applies to all people who are not white, European American males.  What is more insidious is where it applies to the GLBT community.  While this country has anti-discrimination laws and equal pay for equal work laws look at what American citizens are trying to do to follow citizens, exile them by discrimination. 

How many of you here today live in exile?  How many of you live in exile in your own home, workplace or country?  How many of you are being told by your tormenters to pick up your musical instruments and sing for them?  Sing songs of joy and gladness.  Sing songs of good times.  Sing songs of your allegiances and sing songs of your faith.  How many of you feel like the Israeli’s in Babylon thousands of years ago? 

What about you who haven’t lived in exile or who feel you haven’t contributed to somebody else living in exile; are you perplexed about songs being sung that aren’t meant for you?  Are you perplexed about anger directed toward you even though you feel you have done nothing wrong?  If you really haven’t lived the life of an exile will you truly ever understand? 

I ask you to look to your past and the present and think about where you or your ancestors put people in exile.  I read from Radford Maxey’s will earlier.  What I didn’t tell you is my full name, it is James Maxey Moravek.  Radford Maxey was my great, great, great, great, great grandfather.  I ask you to feel what it would be like to have your name taken from you and your wife or husband sold to somebody else.  I ask you to think about what it would be like to be legally discriminated against whether you are female, male, white, person of color, handicapped, mentally ill,  Native American, member of the GLBT community, spoke a different language, short, tall, skinny, overweight or stutter.  I ask you again, have you also put people into exile?

As human beings we must reach out to everybody.  The people who put people into exile must reach out to the people in exile.  The people in exile must also reach out to the people who put them into exile.  For healing and reconciliation to occur much has to happen.  Pray for those in exile and pray for yourself, but most importantly, in the name of Jesus Christ reach out.  

Amen.