Sunday, April 2, 2017
Who says?
Scripture Lessons: John 11: 1-45 and Ezekiel 37: 1-14
Sermon Title: Who says?
Preached on April 2, 2017
I was in New York City once. I had the chance to work in a great big building where counterfeit clothing was processed and cleaned, then distributed to homeless people.
I introduced myself to the man who was supervising the project and told him my name and that I was from Georgia, and he said, “Yea, I can tell.”
I didn’t think that I had an accent at that time, but I guess I did, and the thing about an accent is that people will judge you by the sound of the words coming out of your mouth.
But they’ll judge you by the words too.
One of our girls told us that someone she knew said the “s-word” in school, which made us nervous, until she whispered it: “stupid.”
That is a prohibited word in our house. In our house, we don’t say stupid, shut-up, dumb, duh, I don’t care, and ain’t.
I’m sure that you have (or had) a similar list of banned words, and some words must be banned. We must watch our language, not only because the words that we use can reflect upon us badly, but it’s also true that the words that we use shape the way we interreact with the world.
The best example of a word that shapes the way we interact with the world is the word “can’t.”
“Can’t” is a powerful word and we see its power.
Two sisters were playing together, or they were trying to play together, but big sister was pretending to be a doctor and she wanted little sister to be a patient.
However, little sister wanted to be a police officer.
“She can’t be a police officer,” big sister says, “because girls can’t be police officers.”
“Can’t” is a powerful word – that’s not to say that it should be banned from use, but like all powerful words it should be used thoughtfully, because unlike those throw away words that people use so often that they have no meaning (“awesome” is mine) – “can’t” is a word that draws a line.
It puts people in place.
It limits the world.
A popular phrase inspired by Biblical thought is: “Words create worlds.” This is a reiterated theme of Scripture. You know the creation account that begins the book of Genesis:
God said, “let there be light, and there was light.”
God said, “let the waters be gathered together, let the earth put forth vegetation.
God said, “let us make humankind in our image.”
Ours is a religion where God spoke the world into existence – a religion where Jesus uses the powerful words, “Lazarus, come out,” and though he had been dead, out he comes. And so naturally, Ezekiel doesn’t put the bones back together with his hands – no – he speaks to them and the Spirit of God restores them to life.
Some of our words are creative, restorative as well. A word of encouragement to a child, you’ve seen what that can do. “I think you can do it,” the teacher says and all at once he can. Those words are a creative force. They’re so important, especially in a world of “can’t-s.”
“Can’t” is different from “no,” I believe, because “no” makes you powerful and can’t makes you weak. One who can say “no” has a choice, but those who hear the word “can’t” – their power to choose has just been taken away.
It’s like the prayer that begins the Bible Study, where it’s one thing if the leader asks to see if anyone would like to give the opening prayer (everyone relishes their right to say “no” in that situation), but it’s something different entirely when girls can’t pray when in a classroom with boys.
“Can’t” is a powerful word. That doesn’t mean it should be banned, because there are things in this world that we can’t do and for good reason, but what about the “can’t” laws of our world and how they dehumanize.
Girls can’t be police officers is one thing, and women can’t vote is another.
People with dark skin can’t go to school with those who have light skin.
“You can’t.” People hear that every day. Our children hear that every day, and “Who says you can’t?” we must be bold to ask if we are to help our children grow, and learn, and live.
Back to our Scripture passage from the book of Ezekiel – do you know how tempted he must have been to say, “These bones can’t live.”
But “can’t” is a word that we should never be so bold to use with God, and we must be slow to use this word with each other too.
And that’s why Ruby Bridges is an example to us today. It’s because while the world was telling her, “kids with dark skin can’t go to school with kids with light skin” she walked right into that white school.
There’s a plaque in our own McDowell School, it’s right there in the front office listing all the firsts that took place there. It reads:
McDowell School, the oldest continuously-operating school in the county, was originally built in 1883 on Trotwood Avenue just south of the southern-most railway overpass. The county supplied the lumber and the parents built the small building. It had the first lady Principal, Mrs. Jesse Tomlinson. The first county PTA was organized there in 1904. The school had the first elementary school library organized in 1964 by Mrs. Hazel Martin. The first black teacher was Mrs. Sally Sisson and the first black student was Rose Ogilvie (McClain) in 1965.
Think of all the “can’t-s” this plaque defies:
“Parents can’t build a school,” I can imagine myself saying, but I shouldn’t be so bold because they did.
“Ladies can’t be principals,” the world and the school board and everyone else was probably saying, but, “Who says they can’t?” asked Mrs. Jesse Tomlinson, and she did.
Then there’s this notion of how “Black teachers can’t teach white students and black students can’t go to school with white students either.” The world said that so many times that most people believed it was a fact, but right up this road Mrs. Sally Sisson and Rose Ogilvie McClain got tired of can’t and showed us all that when the world says “can’t” just watch what God can do.
Can’t.
Can’t is a word that tries to take power away, but faithful people are powerful because the word of our God defies every unjust “can’t” that this world would dare speak.
Listen to this. Not only did what I just read happen at McDowell, but back a few years ago, our own Tom Patton was in fourth grade and he donned the white helmet and sash of the safety patrol.
Those giant coke trucks would be carrying earth and phosphate up and down West 7th to and from the factories, and those scared little 1st graders would say, “I can’t cross that road.”
Well, all 70 pounds of Tom Patton would walk out into the road, raise his right hand and those great monsters of industry would grind to a stop.
“Who says you can’t?”
We use the word “can’t” too liberally I tell you, and we must be bold to remember
-whenever we are tempted to give up hope
– whenever we are tempted to give up on marriage, work, our dreams, ourselves
– that our God is the one who spoke the world into existence, who breathed on a pile of dried up bones and gave them life – our God is the one who called into a tomb, “Lazarus, come out” and out he came!
While every “can’t” makes this world a little bit smaller, every time we say as Ezekiel said: “O Lord God, you know” we open ourselves up to God’s power, and we should not be surprised when God does exactly what the world told us “can’t” happen.
Remember that the Lord said to Ezekiel, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely,’ [But] thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live.”
Amen.
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