A few weeks ago, I was substitute teaching a sophomore English class. A lot of times, when you are substitute teaching, the lesson plans are (shall we say) uninspiring. Busy work, with very little educational value. It keeps the students occupied…
But on this particular day, I actually got to introduce these 10th graders to the poetry of Maya Angelou. Which included me reading to them her famous poem, “Caged Bird.”
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
I read this poem three times in a row. And then, because most high schools in Long Beach use a block schedule - and because I was subbing for this same teacher again the next day - I read it three more times.
And each time I read that poem, I became more and more attached to it.
It made me realize that most of us have some area of our lives in which we are longing for freedom, some area of our lives in which we feel trapped, held back, locked in a cage.
Some of you may relate directly with one or more of the ways in which Maya Angelou felt trapped. Some of you may have experienced trauma similar to what she experienced, racism similar to what she experienced, sexism similar to what she experienced, abuse similar to what she experienced.
Others of you may feel trapped by other circumstances in your life. Economics. Employment. Family situations. Health challenges that you did not expect. Conditions and syndromes that you weren’t counting on. Or the need to care for those who need you.
Each of these things has the potential to limit your freedom.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
Next week, we begin the season of Advent. Next week, we begin anticipating the birth of Jesus. But, with Thanksgiving behind us, it’s kind of hard to wait another week. So today, before we get into the Advent scriptures, let’s set the scene.
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
Next week, we begin the season of Advent. Next week, we begin anticipating the birth of Jesus. But, with Thanksgiving behind us, it’s kind of hard to wait another week. So today, before we get into the Advent scriptures, let’s set the scene.
The gospels are biographies of Jesus. Two of the four gospels - Matthew and Luke - include stories about the birth of Jesus.
Luke’s version is particularly interesting in how it starts. Even though the gospels are biographies of Jesus, in Luke, Jesus is not the first character who appears.
You might find this surprising.
I’m currently reading the biography of Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson. It’s a new book that is currently at the top of the nonfiction bestseller lists. In the first sentence of that rather lengthy book, Leonardo da Vinci’s name appears.
No surprise; the book is about him.
But in Luke, the first character to appear is not Jesus.
In Luke, the first character to appear is King Herod of Judea.
After a brief introduction, Luke starts out: “In the days of King Herod of Judea…” Luke then talks about the anointing and pregnancy of Elizabeth, and the anointing and pregnancy of Mary.
Then in chapter two - Jesus still hasn’t been born - Luke says: “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.”
So Jesus still hasn’t yet appeared on the scene, but Luke has mentioned three rulers of Rome: King Herod of Judea, Emperor Augustus, and Quirinius the governor of Syria.
We tend to move rather quickly past these verses, thinking they aren’t that important, but to Luke, they are very important. Luke starts his gospel by talking about these rulers - Herod, Augustus, and Quirinius - to make an important point: that the life of Jesus took place during a very specific time in history: the time of Roman Empire. The time when these oppressive, authoritarian rulers were in charge. The time when the rule of God was overshadowed by the rule of Rome.
Under King Herod of Judea, Emperor Augustus, and Quirinius the governor of Syria, the Jews were crying out. They were crying out for freedom. They were trapped.
Like a caged bird.
The land in which they lived had once been theirs. Now it belonged to Rome. Rome owned the land. Rome owned the crops that grew on the land. Rome owned the commerce that took place. Rome owned the labor of the people.
They weren’t slaves, technically; yet Rome made it clear that everything in Rome was, technically, the property of the Emperor. And because the people had no voice and no representation in Rome, the emperor could extort their labor and their lives, placing heavy, unfair taxes upon the people, commandeering their houses and property if necessary, and basically doing anything else that the emperor felt was needed.
The people worked hard, but it was like treading water. They could never work hard enough to pull themselves out of the water. Yet they continued to dogpaddle furiously, in an effort to keep their faces above water so that they could keep breathing.
Now, there was peace in Rome. No army could possibly invade or attack Rome. But that’s only because Rome’s army was so powerful, and already occupied the land. It was a peace that was maintained by force, and intimidation.
A peace like that is really no peace at all.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The people had a song. A song of freedom. They sang about a messiah who one day would come and do what all opposing armies could not: rescue them from Rome.
They sang about one who would shatter the yoke that burdened them, the rod of the oppressor.
They sang about wolves and lambs lying together in peace. Perhaps the people saw themselves as the lambs, always living in fear of the mighty wolf. Yet they sang of a day in which that fear was gone…
They sang about the removal of all that stood in the way of peace and happiness. On the path to freedom, they sang that every mountain that divides will be brought down low, and every valley that separates will be lifted up, and the rough path to freedom will be made smooth.
They sang about a savior, a messiah, who would bring down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly; who would fill the hungry with good food, and send the rich away empty; who would rescue God’s people from the hands of their enemies, who would give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.
They never stopped singing their song.
They never gave up hope.
And they never stopped singing their song.
Because Luke made such a big deal about political situation at the time Jesus was born, I thought it would be good if we paid that a little attention this morning. And as we consider our own political situation today, in our nation and in our world, it might be helpful to remember how the rich hoarded wealth and power in the first century, and how Luke and the other gospel writers pictured Jesus as the leader of a resistance movement against those who would exploit the poor, tax the poor, oppress the poor, in order to help the rich.
The coming of Jesus into the world was God’s way of challenging the social order. God always challenges the social order when it is unfair to those at the bottom. In the days of the prophets, when society’s wealth became too concentrated at the top: that’s when God called prophets to preach against injustice.
You’ve heard me say this before, but I repeat it because it really is quite remarkable: In those times in history when wealth was more spread out, more evenly distributed, and the poor were not treated too harshly, God didn’t feel the need to call any prophets. There are no writings from any prophets during those times.
But when public policy turned against the poor - that’s when the prophets appeared on the scene.
So, this is quite remarkable. It shows how important the welfare of all people, especially the poor, is to God.
When the poor cry out, God hears their cry.
When the oppressed sing for freedom, God listens.
And God will raise up a prophet, a savior, a messiah, to call the people to justice, and to give all who dwell in captivity their freedom.
This is the good news. And the church’s mission, first and foremost, is to be bearers of this good news. It is our mission to stand with the poor and oppressed, to join with them in solidarity in the face of whatever oppression and injustice they may face.
Or, to put it another way: we are called by God to be a movement for healing, wholeness, and restoration in a fragmented world.
No comments:
Post a Comment