Proper 10B; Ps 85:8-13; Mark 6:14-29 St. Paul’s
Smithfield, NC 7/15/2018
Jim Melnyk: “Righteousness and Peace Have Kissed”
Every now and then the psalm
for the day offers a particular verse that captures my imagination. Psalm 85 is one of those. About halfway through the poetic hymn the
Psalmist declares, “Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace
have kissed each other,” (85:10) and I find myself wondering, what exactly does
something like that look like? What does
it look like for mercy and truth to meet – or for righteousness and peace to
kiss? Metaphors can certainly be
amazing! I thought about famous kisses
like Romeo and Juliet or Scarlet and Rhett, and infamous kisses like Michael
Corleone and Fredo or Judas and Jesus, but none of those seemed to fit. Then an old TV episode came to mind.
Fifty years ago this coming
November TV audiences across the nation, especially in the Deep South, were
stunned by what many refer to as TV’s first ever interracial kiss. On November 22, 1968, in a Star Trek episode
called “Plato’s Stepchildren,” Captain James T. Kirk of the Star Ship Enterprise
kissed his Communications Officer Lieutenant Uhura while NBC executives – who
at one point wanted an edited scene for southern TV stations to air – watched,
and waited, and held their breath. And
although it wasn’t actually the first interracial kiss on TV, and the script
had the characters coerced into the act, it was a powerful moment, and its
legacy lives on in the minds of many. At
13 years of age I don’t recall giving it a second thought until I heard some
adults complaining about it over the next few days.
Those of us who lived through
the mid-to-late 1960s will probably never forget our nation’s unrest at that
time – and for some it was much more horrific than for others. We lived through Vietnam and the many protests
against our nation’s involvement. We
also lived through the height of the Civil Rights Movement as a significant
portion of our fellow citizens protested, marched, and fought for equal rights
for all people, while others tried to shut them down or drown them out. Scenes of water cannons turned on protesters,
snarling police dogs, and flag-draped coffins were common place on the evening
news. In 1968 we witnessed the assassination
of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the riots that followed across the nation as
sorrow, fear, and anger exploded and cities burned in the night.
And into the midst of all
that tension and terror two actors on NBC kissed. It wasn’t part of a long-winded manifesto. It wasn’t part of a sit-in, a march, or a pitched
battle. It was simply two actors, whose
skin color happened to be different from each other’s, kissing. The Psalmist proclaims, “Mercy and truth – or
steadfast love and faithfulness – have met together; righteousness and peace
have kissed each other” and perhaps that’s an apt metaphor for what took place
in an NBC TV studio set those fifty years ago.
In the midst of a nation
fraught with anger, fear, and conflict, actors Nichelle Nichols and William
Shatner kissed and perhaps a nation was able to catch a brief glimpse of new
possibilities yet to come – a prophetic statement about our need as human
beings to see beyond the colors of our many diverse skin tones. And because we all know too well what often
befalls prophets, NBC held its collective breath once they finally decided to
let the episode air as written.
On the surface Psalm 85,
which we just recited this morning, has nothing to do with modern day science
fiction. Yet one of the core structures
of science fiction is how it can speak a challenging word to society through
the use of a neutral setting – a different world – or even a different race of
beings. Science fiction utilizes
metaphor to capture our imaginations and allow us to think about our present
reality in possibly less threatening ways.
The writers for Star Trek were able to pull that off on a regular basis.
The metaphorical language in
the psalm about mercy and truth meeting and righteousness and peace kissing speaks
to the human longing for connection – for relationship – and to God’s desires
for humanity to come together at a challenging time in Israel’s life. The psalm was most likely written shortly
after the end of Judah’s exile in Babylon.
God’s people have come home to find Jerusalem devastated and the temple
in ruins. The memories of Babylon and
the sense of guilt over what brought about the exile are still fresh in their
minds.
Those returning from exile
have been charged by God to rebuild the city walls and the temple – something
King Cyrus of Persia is willing to let happen as long as Jerusalem acknowledges
itself as a vassal state and continues to send its tributes east. The Psalmist recognizes that Jerusalem is
still in a fragile place, but is encouraged by God’s presence in the most
unlikely of relationships – the faithful of Judah tied to Cyrus, a Persian
messiah and a Gentile, who has heard and responded to the God of Israel. Israel and Persia – as unlikely a couple as
Kirk and Uhura – as unlikely a relationship as the covenant between God and
humanity.
The Psalmist declares the
unthinkable is possible – not because of humanity’s great track record – not
because Israel’s leaders had suddenly grown a social conscience toward the poor
and the needy – not because Israel had become a beacon of faithfulness
overnight – but because of who God is and how God chooses to be made known in
their lives. When we see words like
“mercy,” “truth,” “righteousness,” and “peace,” or as other translations offer:
“steadfast love,” “faithfulness,” “justice,” and “well-being,” we are being
offered a glimpse into the divine attributes of God.
These words are divine
watch-words of God’s character and activity in the world – and they are words
of invitation for humanity to respond in kind to one another and to God. They are prophetic words when spoken in
places that hold little understanding of the divine character – and even
smaller understandings of what it means for human beings to live together in
the love of God. “Mercy and truth have
met together; righteousness and peace – or justice and well-being – have kissed
each other.”
Throughout the life of this
world the Divine One has sought to sweep us up in the arms of God’s saving
embrace. Amos comes on the scene before
the fall of the Northern Kingdom – before the Psalmist’s words about
righteousness and peace kissing one another.
Amos tells the people that God has shown him a plumb line set in the
midst of Israel – and has found their foundation out of line. The leaders have turned on the people,
disenfranchising the poor and the powerless.
Those in power seek to shut Amos down.
He speaks the Word of God and in response he is told to shut up and go
back home to take care of his herds and his trees. Mercy and truth, it seems, are strangers to
each other. Justice and well-being aren’t
even on speaking terms. And the Northern
Kingdom falls to Assyria.
Centuries later John the
Baptizer comes on the scene and the only kissing going on there seems to be
between Herod and his wife – whom he stole from his brother Philip. John the Baptizer, like Amos before him,
speaks the word of God to power – and instead of being sent home to tend sheep
he finds himself thrown in prison by the very powers he is challenging. Mercy and truth are once again strangers to
each other. Justice and well-being are not
even on speaking terms. Herod boxes
himself into a corner over John. Make no
mistake about it – just like Pilate and Jesus, Herod has complete control over
his actions. We can’t blame John’s death
on his wife’s lust for revenge or his step-daughter’s childish dancing. Herod’s rule is absolute – it is Herod who
pulls the trigger the moment he sentences the prophet of God to his death. There is no mercy – there is no truth – there
is no righteousness – there is no peace – in the court of Herod.
Into all the wild
machinations of history steps Jesus. He
is not the first to proclaim Good News to God’s people, nor is he the
last. But like an unexpected kiss that
can capture our imaginations and shake us from the complacency of what has always
been, Jesus incarnates the divine character of God in one solitary human life,
and invites us into the fullness of the divine/human encounter. Jesus invites us to see the divine character –
the divine image of God in one another – in family and friends – in companions
along the way and in strangers met on the way – and even as Jesus reminds us,
in our enemies – the divine image in each of us meeting one another and joining
hands with one another.
In Jesus, as in the prophets
of old and in women and men of faith throughout the ages, the steadfast love
and faithfulness of God meet – and in that meeting the whole of creation, in
all its diversity, is joined together. Mercy
and truth meet. Justice and well-being
kiss. And we all find ourselves invited
to revel in the joy of being God’s own beloved.
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