The Park Road Pulpit

There once was a bank robber by the name of Jorge Rodriguez who lived in Mexico. He frequently crossed the border into Texas to rob banks, and he so frustrated the Texas Rangers that a large bounty was placed on his head. Each time they nearly caught up with Rodriguez he would manage to cross the Rio Grande and be safe in Mexico, where the Rangers were prohibited from pursuing him.

One day an old Texas Ranger couldn't stand it any longer. He followed Rodriguez across the border into a little town cantina. He snuck up behind him and put a gun to Rodriguez's temple. He demanded that the now-infamous bandit tell where he had placed all of his stolen money. “Tell me, now,” said the Ranger, “or I will blow your head off, right here!”

In the bar, however, there was a man who volunteered to overcome this impasse by translating for the Ranger. The translator told Rodriguez exactly what the Ranger had said, and then he asked where he had hidden the money. Fearful for his life, Rodriguez quickly told the translator that the money was hidden behind the third brick at the city well. The translator then turned to the Ranger, but, being very quick on his feet, what the translator said to the Ranger was this -- "Jorge Rodriguez is a very brave and stubborn man. He said he would rather die than tell you where the money is hidden!"

It is called the “language barrier,” and so it is. Preaching to our friends in Cuba, they could not understand a word I said. And I could not understand them. The sermon they heard when I preached, then, was really not mine at all. It belonged completely to Dr. Stan Hastey. Stan is the Executive Director of the Alliance of Baptists, accompanied us on our trip through Cuba, and served as our translator. And, any message is always dependent upon its translation. So, I say through a grin to my Cuban friends, “if Stan doesn’t understand what I say (or even if he just doesn’t like it!), what he will tell you is what he thinks you need to hear!)”

I am anxious to learn to speak Spanish, and even more so, now that we have returned from Cuba. One year of college study did little to teach me this beautiful language. There are increasing numbers of Spanish-speakers in this country, and I want to be able to communicate with them. In fact, as you have heard the Vision Team tell you, our church is located on the edge of one of other fastest growing communities in our city – and much of that growing population is Hispanic. We had yet another meeting with Crisis Assistance Ministry this week, as we consider how we might be involved in meeting the need of this population. That answer might mean that you and I will have to learn some new vocabulary! Comprende?

The little practice that I’ve gotten before our trip came just down the street at Baja Fresh, this new Mexican restaurant: Hola! Seniorita! Buenos dias! Como esta? But that’s about as far as I get, and then I stumble… como se dice (which means, “how do you say…”) “I’d like a burrito?” Ah, Gracias seniorita!

In the market in Varadero one day, I was trying to make a purchase, and I was anxious to use my Spanish with the shop owner. “How much?” and “What kind of wood is this carving made from?” were the questions I had, but after just a few words, through his broken English he interrupted. “No. Please. Speak English!” (The ultimate insult!)

It’s not only across the ethnic divide that language is a barrier. I experience it in my own home. Don’t you? Sometimes even Amy doesn’t seem to understand me – and very often Jackson and Bennett do not! Complicating the communication problem is that within any given language, we all speak with many languages. One word, depending upon the look on our face, the posture of our body, the contact of our eyes, can mean many different things.

Have you ever tried to speak with someone, to communicate an idea, a thought, a belief – even within your own language – and been unable to make the person to whom you are speaking understand what you really meant? When I was a child, my sister had a poster hanging in her room that described the communication problem so well:

The “language barrier” is real. It is at the heart of almost all problems between people. We must learn to listen to one another. We must learn to truly hear one another. Across families and churches. Across cities and nations. Across political systems and religions. For on the two sides of almost any problem you can conceive, you will find people talking more than listening, and speaking in very “different” languages.

The ancient story of the “Tower of Babel,” is a wonderful tale. Across the ages, when children have discovered that not everyone in the world talks as they do, they have asked, “Why are there different languages, anyway?” (At my house, there is a constant charade of language going on. Two boys frequently babble, and when we ask them what all the commotion is about, they inform us that they are just “speaking Spanish,” or “Chinese!”) Thousands of years ago, some wise old sage, answered one of these children, by telling a story. Scholars call it an “etiological narrative” – it’s a story that gives an explanation for the origin of something. “Once upon a time,” boys and girls, “the whole earth had one language and the same words…”

The story of the Babel is a wonderful tale, because it is as much filled with wisdom today as it was when it was first told. In the story, we learn that as the people of the earth begin building their great tower, the Lord comes down to survey their work, and God is impressed – to say the least. God is, in fact, overwhelmed, perhaps even a bit threatened by what these mere mortals have done, and the storyteller has the Lord utter the simple truth of this great tale:

Do you hear that powerful, ancient word? It is a message that needs to be spoken all over our globe, today, from Baghdad to Jakarta to Beijing to Boca de Mariel[1] to Charlotte, North Carolina. When we, human beings, children of a gracious God, children, created in God’s image speak as one… Everything Will be Possible!

But, how? How will we work together? How will we be able to learn from one another? How will we speak together? What common language will we borrow?

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only son into the world so that we might live through him…

No conflict will ever be finally resolved through war. Violence only begets violence. Yet today, the United States of America spends more than $400 billion dollars on what President Eisenhower foresaw decades ago as the growing “military-industrial-complex.”[3] That complex is now out of control. Recent administrations (not just the current one) have set this nation of a course of action that puts military intervention as the first response. Not the last resort. Where is the end to the war against terrorism? Despite our President’s bold proclamations, that war will never be won. Never. Never. Never. Violence breeds terrorists -- it cannot eradicate them. We spend as much money on the war machine as every other nation in the world – COMBINED! And we are a “Christian nation,” if only by perception (but perception is reality). But we are not living as a Christian nation. We must learn another way, or we will be fighting until our vain efforts become the end of us. No conflict will ever be finally resolved through war.

No crisis will ever be completely overcome by force. Force only creates resentment and hostility. Yet today, the United States of America today enforces its own agenda, often at the expense of anyone who stands in our way. We witnessed this up-close-and-personal in Cuba. The 40-year blockade of Cuba denies the country of much needed economic and agricultural resources, while also denying U.S. farmers a potential $5 billion market. It is a policy that has failed for forty years. For even today, as I awoke to a report of the 40^th anniversary of the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the tyrant to the south, that Kennedy hoped to overthrow through his embargo, is still at power. Many analysts, in fact, believe that Fidel Castro himself, needs the embargo now more than anyone. It is his last fuel against the great “imperialist aggressor” to the north. Our embargo is a grotesque example of power gone awry – it has not brought about its desired end (the overthrow of Castro), the poor of Cuba, whom Jesus would call “the least of these” (Matthew 25), are the ones who suffer the most – and yet our pride and a political system that needs to be fed will not allow us to change course.[4] But we must. We must end the embargo on Cuba. It is the only humane decision we can make. It goes without saying that it would be “the Christian thing to do.” No crisis will ever be completely overcome by force.

And, no challenge will ever be met by dividing ourselves, by claiming what is ”mine,” by shouting at one another in our own language.

Jesus has shown us a better way. The Apostle Paul called it a more excellent way (1 Corinthians 12). For Jesus’ way leads to true peace. By the power of love, hand in hand, speaking the language that transcends every barrier -- everything (again) becomes possible. Though the common language of love, Cubans and Americans, socialists and capitalists, Christians and Muslims can join hand-in-hand to change the world. Their world. Our world. God’s world.

But there is one problem. The problem is that this “Way,” this more excellent way, which makes all things possible, leads to the possible always by way of some Cross. Have you taken up yours? Jesus’ language is not the language of “me” and “mine.” It is the language of self-sacrifice. Jesus’ love is neither the love of things nor of thoughts/ ideas/beliefs/ideologies. It is the language of life – life given away, for the sake of finding it, only in one another and in God.

There once was a bank robber by the name of Jorge Rodriguez who lived in Mexico. He made his fortune by deception and crime. And he lost it the same way! For every message depends on the translation. You must always choose, carefully, then, who speaks for you!

Let me tell you something amazing this day. Something so astounding in its gravity that if we really took it seriously we might laugh at the tragic humor of its import… God has chosen us. Mere mortals, who have different cultures and understandings. Human beings, who have different experiences and opportunities. Children, who use different words to name the same realities. God has chosen us to communicate that message which most needs to be spoken to the world.

On this Thanksgiving weekend. At the beginning of our holy month of unholy indulgence let me challenge you to consider your language, in light of the abundance that is yours. What language do we really speak? And for whom are we translating? For every message Depends on the Translation:

[1] Shalom Baptist Church is located in the industrial town of Boca de Mariel, about an hour’s drive west of Havana, Cuba.

[2] When I preached this sermon in Cuba, I read the entire 1 John passage in Spanish, and then Stan Hastey translated my reading to our group, by reading the same passage, completely in English.

[3] This figure is a rough number taken from Dr. Jack Perry. Dr. Perry is a former U.S. Ambassador to Bulgaria, and Director of the Dean Rusk School of International Studies at Davidson University, who spoke to our men’s breakfast group last week.

[4] I am not a political scientist. The views I share here are largely determined by my recent trip, but from our conversations during the week (involving Democrats, Republicans, and Independents), it seems apparent to us all that the single biggest factor in preventing an end to the embargo is the powerful voice of Cuban-Americans, living in Miami, FL. The Florida gubernatorial race and recent presidential elections have relied on the power of the Miami vote. Though the blockade does untold harm to the people of Cuba, Cuban-Americans in Miami are still fiercely loyal to this method, as an effort to call the Cuban people to rise against the dictator.

[5] Erin Pettit, a member of our Cuban delegation, stood in the congregation and sang this piece, as she had done in our worship service in Boca de Mariel.