Carefully Taught
Lent 2B
Rom. 8:31-39; Mk. 8:31-38
3/16/03
Lorraine Ljunggren

The other night I was channel surfing and came upon the middle of the movie “South Pacific.” The story takes place on an idyllic island in the South Pacific and is a love story set in the midst of World War II. Nell is the female lead, an American military officer, who falls in love with a Frenchman named Emil. There's a secondary love story going on between a young Polynesian woman from a nearby island and an officer whose last name is Cable.

I happened upon the part of the movie in which Nell – who has already said she would marry Emil – finds out that he has two children whose mother was Polynesian. The children have their late mother's beautiful dark complexion. But, Nell is a fair-skinned red head from Little Rock, Arkansas. She cannot cope with the reality that Emil was in love with a woman whose skin color was different from Nell's own or even from Emil's. When Emil tries to talk to her, Nell runs away. When he pursues her after the big Thanksgiving show for the troops, she refuses to listen to him. She can't marry Emil – she says it's because of the way she was raised – she says it's just the way she is – that she's sorry but she just can't help it. She acts as if she was 'born that way.'

The confrontation between Nell and Emil happens in front of the American G.I. Cable. Now you need to know that Cable has just abandoned his Polynesian love. The two men are left together and Emil says he doesn't believe it's just the way it is – he doesn't believe we're born that way – that we can't help but, in essence, be prejudiced against people who are not exactly like us!!

Cable's own conscience is confronted by his own hypocrisy. So, with great energy he sings a song entitled, “You've Got to Be Carefully Taught.” Here are the words:

“You've got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You've got to be taught
From year to year,
It's got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You've got to be carefully taught.”

(Richard Rodgers)

In the end of the movie, I'm sorry to say Cable is killed in the war and never gets to return to his Polynesian love. But Nell changes. She comes to love Emil's children for who they are as marvelous human beings; she and Emil are reunited. Nell overcomes the way she was carefully taught. She realizes that love is stronger than the artificial divisions we humans construct in our attempt to 'protect ourselves.'

What is it that we have been or are being carefully taught to hate and fear? What's being drummed into our ears? What are we drumming into the ears of our children -- especially before they are age six or seven or eight? What are we drumming into the ears of our teenagers?

Examining what we have been taught is very important. Holding up to a high standard of morality the attitudes and viewpoints we each hold is very important. What we teach is of utmost importance because it shapes today who we are as individuals and as a community and it will shape all of our tomorrows. What we have been taught and what we teach will either separate us from one another or it will bring us together. And you and I both know that it's easier to teach things that end up separating us than it is to teach things that bring us together. But what we teach is a matter of life and death.

When we humans are separated – whether by lines of race or religion, of gender or age, of attitudes about social policy or political ideologies, it becomes ever more difficult to recognize in one another our common humanity. We dig trenches much as soldiers in WWI dug trenches. And when we become entrenched, our ability to hear one another suffers. And when we can no longer hear one another, then respect, tolerance, and even love soon go out the window.

On Ash Wednesday I said that we come together surrounded by uncertainties in many areas of our lives. There is anxiety and fear in the world. What our tomorrows will be like is a very real question. And I said that in these sorts of times it is very important that we call on our faith and our faith community. Places like St. Mark's are to be places of sanctuary – where we find a place and a group of people with whom we are safe – who try our best to love one another – who are doing our very best to love God. I said, having a place of sanctuary gives us a chance to catch our breath and to say our prayers – to find anew the courage it takes to live as people of faith. (see Ash Wed. sermon 3/5/03)

It is imperative that we be able to climb out of the trenches – many of them dug because of what we were carefully taught. It is imperative that we be able to make reconciliation real between us. Because I hold up little hope for the world if we cannot do the hard work of reconciliation here in this place, here and now.

Jesus makes no bones about the fact that being disciples of the Living God is costly. What will it profit us if we gain the whole world and forfeit our lives? What will it profit us if we live in righteous indignation, as individual people, as Christians, or as a nation, believing that we have the corner on the truth and that whatever action we take is justified?! If we live this way, I believe we will forfeit our lives because we will forfeit our love for one another. And if we, here at St. Mark's, can't find it in our hearts to love one another, God help our world.

You've heard it said we humans can't simultaneously prepare for war and peace. Well, I say we humans can't simultaneously work for reconciliation and love while holding one another or other people in contempt.

Jesus holds us to a very high standard. A standard that pushes our hot buttons and challenges our favorite and dearly beloved attitudes. That's what Jesus has done and continues to do to me. I don't think or act or feel some of the same things I did when I was six or seven or eight. Growing up in the south, I was carefully taught that peoples of different colors or nationalities don't mix. I was taught that Christianity was 'the' only way to salvation and anyone who didn't believe in Jesus was going to spend eternity in hell.

Society taught me that 'might makes right.' That the rich deserve their riches and the poor are poor because they are lazy. Society taught me that having power is the ultimate prize.

But, the Gospel teaches me that 'right' comes when the strong defend the weak. When those with resources – financial and otherwise – accept responsibility to help those without. That loving God and loving our neighbors – neighbors defined as all the people of God – is the ultimate prize. The Gospel teaches me in Jesus I find my salvation but that all the peoples of the earth have a pathway to God.

The Letter to the Church in Rome says that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. But, I believe we can separate ourselves from God and from one another to the point where we can no longer recognize the love of God or God's ways. And if that happens, when that happens, the church can no longer be a sanctuary – a place of safety – a place of renewal and restoration. While we cannot be all things to all people, our call is to be as open as we possibly can. Teaching more than tolerance: teaching acceptance. Teaching more than forbearance: teaching reconciliation.
        
But, being a sanctuary doesn't mean we can come here and wallow around in feel-good-theology. It doesn't mean we can ignore the Law and the voices of the prophets and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Feel-good-religion does not make for a true sanctuary.

We'll find true sanctuary when we work out our differences. When, face to face, we let one another in on the times we hurt each other or misunderstand each other and then work towards forgiveness. We'll find true sanctuary when we avoid the poison of gossip and innuendo. When we quit recycling stuff from the past because we're unhappy or afraid today. When we keep our eyes open to see who among us is being left out or ignored or even pushed aside and then go, inviting them in.

If I were to re-write the lyrics of the song “You've Got to Be Carefully Taught,” I'd say something like this:
We've got to teach God's love and respect,
We've got to teach it from year to year,
and drum into each and every ear
that the thing to do is love God and each other, too.
That's what we've got to carefully teach
Before it's too late.

Amen.















©2003 Lorraine Ljunggren