This scripture reading from Mark’s gospel was chosen for this
year’s service of Prayer for Christian Unity which we will celebrate
tomorrow night in this sanctuary. Each year that service is prepared
by a different community of Christians somewhere in the world and
would you believe that this year’s worship was created by brothers
and sisters in Christ living in the Umlazi region of South Africa,
near Durban, not far from the town of Hamburg where this amazing altarpiece
was made? And so with our partner congregations, we’ve waited
to have this service in March this year rather than January as has
been the custom, so that we could worship together in the presence
of the altarpiece, using the words and the prayers of the church in
that very region, as we are doing this morning.
The
modern-day plague of HIV/AIDS is a reality in South Africa, in Nigeria
for our partner churches in the Iware District of the United Methodist
Church, all across Africa. And when the people came together to plan
this Unity service they realized that one of the biggest obstacles
they face in overcoming these overwhelming challenges is the stigma
which keeps from the suffering people from speaking openly about their
problems, especially the youth, who are encouraged to keep silent.
And at the same time, the ears of the world have been closed to their
cry. And so they chose this text from Mark and the theme of ‘breaking
the silence’. They chose this story which says that Jesus even
makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.
There
are so many reasons why people can’t hear and why we don’t
speak. To be sure some of those are physical ailments of a variety
of sorts. But Scripture points us to something else, to something
that effects us all. Ways in which we cannot hear the truth of our
lives. Ways in which we do not speak, do not speak up, do not give
voice to what we know and what we believe. And for these ailments,
we need spiritual healing and we need friends and we need trust and
need hope.
Our
brothers and sisters in South Africa have experienced the liberating
power of hearing and speaking, speaking about that which has been
unspeakable, seeking information and medical care, knowing that with
HIV/AIDS silence means death. And they chose this text so that others
of us, their brothers and sisters in Christ, members of the one body,
might have our ears opened and hear, not only their cry but their
hope.
The
Keiskamma Altarpiece that hallows our sanctuary for these ten days
tells another story of speaking and hearing, of grief and of hope.
It is modeled on the Isenheim Altarpiece, made in the 1500s in Europe
to celebrate deliverance from the plague. When closed, its front panel
show the crucifixion of Christ, in all his suffering and agony. When
we transport that image to the current reality of Africa, we see that
the central image of this closed altarpiece is still the cross, but
now with the image of a widow grieving over the death of her husband
who has died of AIDS. And we see clustered around her at the foot
of the cross many children, orphaned by AIDS and grandparents and
others who now must care for them. On the flanking panels we see a
church woman in the traditional Methodist dress of the region, red,
black and white, with a seven-pointed hat representing the seven last
words of Christ on the cross. And on the other panel we see a woman
of the Anglican Church in her traditional dress. And across the bottom
is depicted the funeral of her son, who died of AIDS.
Six
years ago, Dr. Carol Hofmeyr, a native of South Africa, a medical
doctor who also earned a master’s degree in fine art and the
only physician providing HIV/AIDS care in the predominantly Xhosa
region of rural Eastern Cape Province, began working with the women
of Hamburg to create their own altarpiece to tell the truth of their
reality. At that time, antiretroviral drugs were not yet available.
There was no cure in sight and very few dared speak openly of the
suffering they were enduring. They knew only sickness and death. And
as they came together in groups of ten to learn this particular form
of stump embroidery and to stitch, day after day, for months and months,
friendships formed and trust grew and they began to share their stories.
Some were themselves HIV positive. Others had lost a son or a husband
or a daughter, in their small town where someone was dying of AIDS
every 3-4 days. And little by little, the women drew close to one
another. They told their stories, they began to love one another,
they found their voice, and as they did so, they began to overcome
the stigma of honesty and the deathful silence that AIDS had imposed.
The power of God, through the work of the Holy Spirit, can make the
deaf to hear and the mute to speak.
(OPEN
PANELS)
In
the Isenheim Altarpiece, when the panels are first opened, we see
the Annunciation and the Resurrection, images of God’s power
and promise. And here on our Altarpiece, do you not immediately see
hope and beauty in the color and the design? As Dr. Hofmeyr began
to work in Hamburg along with their AIDS Educator, Eunice Mangwane,
as the people began to talk more openly and address what was happening
to them, hope began to be born. And around that time antiretroviral
drugs became available permitting HIV-positive children and adults
to live and to grow.
Here
we see hope beyond suffering, in the tree of life on the left panel,
with the ancestors and the children and all the animals of the village—the
dogs, cows and chickens and goats—and in the right panel, a
bird’s eye view of a beautiful swirl of fish in the sea, thirty
species of fish who swim there in the sea. And when you come up close
you’ll see all the church ladies, and the choir singing, and
villagers in traditional dress, and angels, as well as a figure called
Gaba, a figure from traditional Xhosa culture who receives images
of God in the night and dances across the sand dunes early each morning
leaving footprints in the sand. All images of life in these panels.
Images that show our Easter faith. For as Dr. Hofmeyr put it here
last Tuesday night: we believe that on the cross, illness and disease
and all forms of death were defeated. And beyond the cross is happiness
and health.
(OPEN
PANELS)
Ah.
Now, in the final section the beadwork is shiny and bright, glittering
in the light. And there is a sense of stillness and peace in the outer
panels of deep red and blue. The Keiskamma river runs through the
region outside of town where the dead are buried. Their names are
written here and we remember and honor them. And in both panels the
great tree of life, shown now as an African acacia tree and an African
coral tree, spread branches of safety and peace. And in the center,
as is traditional in altarpieces, a different medium is used in the
final view. Here we see photographs of three strong grandmothers and
the precious grandchildren they are raising, images of the present
and the future, now transfused with strength and hope and joy.
When Dr. Hofmeyr was here with us last week, she told me that she
was confirmed a Methodist. And she said that she and the women of
Hamburg could never have dreamed that the Altarpiece would take on
this role of international ambassador, telling the story and naming
the hope. And when she saw it here in our sanctuary, she said that
it brings her community there here, to the other side of the world.
And she spoke of the great strength this has given her, as she has
felt so powerfully how God holds her in the palm of his hand, as he
does all the people of Hamburg and all of us here. We are one. And
our support, she said, is not even so much in the money we give--that
all goes to buy the life-giving antiretroviral drugs--but is the fact
that now she knows that we hear, that we understand, and that we care—and
that’s what undergirds the building of self-esteem back home
and the hope to carry on.
From
a town half-way around the world, with one paved road, and one clinic,
and one doctor and one AIDS educator to Santa Monica and this sanctuary.
If you have ever wondered about what resurrection really means, you
see it and you hear it here this morning on the Fourth Sunday in Lent.
As Christians, we look into the cross and we look into the face of
suffering, and we see that AIDS kills, but it need not. For by the
power of God, our ears are opened to the cries of our suffering brothers
and sisters. And our ears are opened to their testaments of hope,
made possible by education, medical treatment, by breaking open the
stigma of shame, and most of all by the fact that we hold them in
our hearts and we will not let go. And with them, now, we see through
to the hope that lies beyond the cross, hope against hope, hope resolute
against all that would destroy it. This is resurrection.
And
in the words of Martin Luther we can proclaim: “It was a strange
and dreadful strife when life and death contended; the victory remained
with life; the reign of death was ended.”
Thanks
be to God for the bravery of these witnesses and for opening mouths
to speak and ears to hear, that the life-giving, life-saving story
of resurrection hope might prevail across this earth.
Amen.
(CLOSE
PANELS AFTER THE DOXOLOGY)
Notes:
For more information about
the Keiskamma Altarpiece, see www.keiskamma.org
To support United Methodist
projects in Africa addressing issues of HIV/AIDS, call our church
office, visit our website at www.santamonicaumc.org or go to www.umcor.org
and search for “AIDS”.
©Patricia
Farris, 2007. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution.
All other rights reserved.
First
United Methodist Church
1008 Eleventh Street
Santa Monica, CA 90403
www.santamonicaumc.org
(310) 393-8258
The
Victory Remains With Life