Sermons

The Very Rev. Tracey Lind
Proper 19A
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 14, 2008

"We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves," (Romans 14:7) writes the apostle Paul in his letter to the Christian community in Rome. We live and die to God; and in the end, "Each of us will be accountable to God." (Romans 14:12)

If we take them to heart, these are very powerful words. Accountability means that one day we will have to render an explanation for what we have done and what we have not done in our lives. Our faith tradition teaches that literally or figuratively one day we will be called to render account for how we used the time, treasure and talent endowed upon us by our maker.

Whenever I hear these words, I am reminded of the 1991 comedy Defending Your Life, starring Albert Brooks and Meryl Streep. In this somewhat silly film, a man dies in a car accident on his birthday—I think it's his 40th birthday—and is sent to the afterlife, where he is put on trial for "being afraid." If the court determines he has conquered his fears, he will be sent on to the next phase of existence; if not, he will have to return to earth to try it again. Now, I don't believe in reincarnation; however, I like the scene in the film where the man's defense attorney explains that most people from Earth use so little of their brains that they spend most of their lives dealing with their fears. How true that seems to be. We spend an awful lot of time not using our brain, but living into our fear. And it certainly seems to be true for Cleveland. For some reason, fear seems to have a grip on this city we call home, this place where we live, move and have our being.

Yesterday, the Vestry of your Cathedral spent the day in retreat talking not about Trinity's operational or programmatic challenges, but about our role in the not-so-quiet crisis of Greater Cleveland. Grounded by the words of the Hebrew prophet Joel, we watched and discussed a film produced by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy on Cleveland sub-titled Confronting Decline in an American City.¹ It was hard to watch. We then listened to Krista Tippett, creator and host of public radio's Speaking of Faith, and Majora Carter, founder of Sustainable South Bronx, in a conversation entitled "Discovering Where we Live."²

Afterwards we talked about what all of this might mean to the vision and mission of Trinity Cathedral. Fear – naming it, confronting it and overcoming it – was at the heart of much of our discussion.

We all know the sad truth about Cleveland and its surrounding suburbs, and many of us can easily recount the litany of facts: population loss, poverty, unemployment, children and schools at-risk, pollution, crime, and health. At the same time, we know the good stuff about our city and its metropolitan area: fresh water; outstanding art and culture; excellent healthcare; professional sports; great universities and colleges; affordable housing; interesting neighborhoods; easy commuting; wonderful parks and recreation; generous philanthropy; wonderful public, private and parochial schools; a strong faith community; resilient and creative people; perfectly decent weather in a four-season climate; and so many other resources and assets

So what's the problem with Cleveland? Why can't we become one of the most livable, exciting, creative, sustainable, and healthiest cities in the nation – perhaps, in the world? What is holding us back?

As I suggested last week in this pulpit and as I have been saying more and more in a number of public contexts, I do not believe the distress of Greater Cleveland is due to a lack of resources: human, financial, natural or physical. The crisis of Metropolitan Cleveland is not about capacity or assets—public or private, for-profit or not-for-profit. Ours is a crisis of spirit and of will, and one simple question lies at the heart of it all. Are we – everybody – rich, poor and middle-class; urban and suburban; eastsider and westsider; black, white, Hispanic and Asian; native and newcomer; gay and straight; young, old and middle-aged; factory worker and corporate executive; public school educator and private, parochial and charter school educator; politician and voter – are we willing to do what it takes to turn this city and our suburbs into a thriving, exciting, creative, sustainable, and living metropolitan area?

That's the question on the table, my friends, and it's not going to go away.

At yesterday's retreat, the Vestry recognized that we have realized the vision we set forth in 2000. We have become a great cathedral, a vibrant community of faith, and a leading institution in Cleveland. Moreover, Trinity Commons has become a model of the church as sacred public space for celebration, culture, charity, commerce, conversation, and collaboration in the heart of the city. Almost every significant non-profit organization in this town and so many public institutions are gathering here for really important, difficult and relevant conversations, meetings, and actions. Friends, we can rejoice in our accomplishments, but we can't rest on our laurels.

So what's next? Where do we go from here? How do we take what we've accomplished and what we've learned to the next level? Yesterday, with a bit of fear and trembling, the Vestry claimed a new calling for Trinity Cathedral – a big, hairy, audacious vision and an urgent and absorbing errand of faith to further our mission to proclaim in word and action God's justice, love and mercy for all creation:

We now intend to embolden and enflesh our passion for this city we call home by organizing, convening and inspiring interfaith conversation and action for the rebuilding of Greater Cleveland based on a public theology of the Commons. And that we want to invite, encourage and equip the members of the Trinity congregation to join and promote this conversation and its resulting action. We feel called to organize and convene and inspire this interfaith conversation because the rebuilding of Greater Cleveland is going to require that which the faith community has to offer, and we've learned something about that in the building and the living into Trinity Commons.

The Greek philosopher Plato wrote in The Republic about the ideal city or the polis as one based on the intersection of justice and human virtue. According to Plato, the city is a form of social and political organization that allows individuals to maximize their potential, serve their fellow citizens, and live in accordance with the universal laws and truths of goodness. Plato's ideal city is an enlightened city, one based on the highest universal principles – those that promote the common good.³

Together, with other faith communities in the Greater Cleveland Area, we can develop and articulate "a public theology of the Commons" that promotes the vitality, well-being and goodness of both city and suburb. In doing so, we can offer creative insights and practical ideas from our various faith traditions to help fashion the rebuilding of our economy, schools, and neighborhoods; the protection and sustainable use of environmental resources and assets; the enhancement of art and culture; the curbing of crime, violence and intolerance; and the promotion of civility and civil discourse.

If we acknowledge that the old philosophy of much faith-based organizing, with its us versus them mentality, is no longer relevant or useful; if we can adopt the Pogo philosophy that we've met the enemy, and the enemy is us, all of us; if we can face history and ourselves, owning our role in what Garrett Hardin's called "The Tragedy of the Commons;"⁴ if we can ground a new urban vision in the spirit that promotes the commons—the common good, the common space, the common economy, the common well-being, the common metropolitan area; if we overcome our fear of failure—failure as individuals, as congregations, as government, as business, as a city as a region; then the faith community, joining with our civic, corporate, education, health care and neighborhood partners, can help to rebuild this distressed city and its suburbs into a manageable, sustainable and vibrant metropolitan area. I believe that what is missing in the conversation about Cleveland and in the resulting action is the community of faith.

I know those are a lot of "ifs," and I realize that we are venturing into uncharted waters and that what we've put forward is audacious. However, as one of our leaders said so aptly, "We need to have the courage to put this out there without all the answers." And as another said, "The faith community is the place in society that has permission to help us get in touch with things that affect us all as human beings." One member of the Vestry recalled the words from Shakespeare, "Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."⁵ She continued in her words, "This is an opportunity for greatness, and you don't get those chances everyday." She then concluded, "If we don't do this work, if we don't try, Trinity might not celebrate its 200th birthday." I would say that if we don't take this risk, if we don't reach out and take a chance on our city in a new way, we might celebrate our 200th birthday [in 2016], but we might be doing it in a beautiful building in the middle of a empty city.

As the prophet Joel reminded the Vestry yesterday, God is sending Greater Cleveland everything we need to be satisfied so that we will no longer be what Joel calls a mockery among cities. God will pour out the spirit of collective wisdom so that our old shall dream dreams, and our young shall see visions, so that we may create a place where people want to live, move and have their being. Joining with sisters and brothers in many civic sectors – corporate, public, non-profit – who already are working hard to re-imagine and revitalize Cleveland and our suburbs, God wants us to re-build and re-create a city and metropolitan area that will:

Model environmental and economic sustainability;
Realign education and training to meet employer needs;
Value diversity and inclusion;
Promote art and culture;
Educate all of our children in good schools;
Shelter all of our people in decent, affordable and healthy housing;
Protect the safety and dignity of everyone - young and old alike;
Provide accessible medical care for all - rich and poor alike;
Promote health and wellness among its citizenry;
Maintain accessible parks and recreational amenities;
Reclaim vacant land and revitalize distressed neighborhoods;
Encourage smart growth and discourage stupid sprawl;
Be connected locally, globally and digitally;
Value the center city while honoring the suburbs;
Lift up political, business and civic leaders that inspire trust and confidence; and
Develop a positive energy and attitude about Cleveland and its people.

We have a lot of work ahead of us, for this is a daunting venture in faith. While the Vestry has developed a basic outline for some next steps of action, we'll chart the details of our path as we go. There will be a place for everyone in this conversation, and we need everyone of you and your friends to be a part of it.

In her memoir, Speaking of Faith, Krista Tippett writes, "Sometimes I have had a feeling...that God throws out the occasional wild card, almost a dare – try this is if you will; I will bless it; it is rich with possibility; it will not be easy."⁶ I believe that this calling to organize, convene and inspire interfaith conversation and action for the rebuilding of Greater Cleveland based on a public theology of the Commons is one of those occasional wild cards – a dare from God that will not be easy but is rich with possibility. If we accept it, what do we have to lose; but if we reject it, what will we say at the Day of Judgment?

As I was writing this sermon in the early morning hours, I recalled the remark of one seasoned Vestry member yesterday as she paraphrased the words of the apostle Paul to the Christians in Rome: "If God is [with] us, who [can be] against us." (Romans 8:32) And then, I remembered the wisdom of the poet Audre Lorde, "When I dare to be powerful – to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."⁷ So sisters and brothers, let us go forth in the service of our vision, and let us not be afraid that we will fail or that we will be called foolish. Let us cross to the other side of our fear, for we have been called and commissioned by God for service, and we have been promised that, no matter what happens, we do not live or die alone, for we are God's very own creation.

Can the people say Amen?

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¹"Making Sense of Place – Cleveland: Confronting Decline in an American City," produced in 2004-05 by the Lincoln Institute for Land Use in collaboration with Northern Light Productions

²"Discovering Where We Live: Reimagining Environmentalism," an interview with Majora Carter and Calvin DeWitt, produced by Krista Tippett, Speaking of Faith, January 17, 2008, American Public Media

³"The Ideal City," Scott London, 2000, scottlondon.com

⁴Garrett Hardin, "The Tragedy of the Commons," Science, 162:1243, 1968

⁵William Shakespear, Twelfth Night, 1601

⁶Krista Tippett, Speaking of Faith, 2007, Viking, p. 214

⁷Audre Lorde, The Cancer Journals, 1991