I was sharing with another congregation member on Friday that the first time I went to India I did not feel, for whatever reason, like it was appropriate to share about my experience from the pulpit – I think I preached one or two Sundays after I returned from India last year and I just did not feel compelled to share then. I find that for every person who loves hearing about foreign travel, you have about 10 others who don’t. And the truth is that before I went to India, I was one of the ones who didn’t. If I have not experienced it myself, don’t tell me about it. But this time I woke up the first night I was back and realized I was already constructing a sermon in my head. Even in my sleep I felt compelled to vocalize what I have had the privilege to experience over this last month.
So, I would like to share with you the sermon that started weaving itself through my head night after night after returning to the states. And, if you’ll permit me, I would like to use a song to illustrate today’s homily. For those of you who don’t know, the Beatles, spent a lot of time in India and India was the inspiration for their “White” album, and the lyrics to John Lennon’s song “Imagine” kept tumbling through my head, so I have taken the liberty of using it to illustrate my sermon this morning and it goes something like this:
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Now there is a copy of the lyrics in your bulletin, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the song. And what I have done is literally try and translate how this sermon constructed itself in my head over this last week. I would be washing dishes and (sing) “Imagine all the people” would pop into my head – and then I would go through this whole reflection of “all the people” in India. So I am going to sing a line from the song and then share my reflection with you and my hope is that the song will serve as a tool to create at least a taste of what I experienced while I was there. And by the way, if you would prefer to close your eyes and experience more of a guided mediation, I would encourage you to do that as well…
Imagine there's no Heaven – there is America, where young Indians hope to make it for a better life and a better future.
It's easy if you try – But this is India. It is dusty and dry. The dust gets in your nose and you crush grit between your teeth during the day. The kids play in the dirt because they do not have cool Teflon gyms to play in. But they play anyway, and they love it because it is what they know.
No hell below us – because it is quite possible that hell could be in India. There is a constant battle against leprosy, and malnutrition, starvation, infection, and simple things like clean drinking water and uncontaminated food.
Above us only sky – But even in Durgapur you can’t see it, because the factories produce too much smog. The smog filters the sun. And the sun beats down in a hazy broken way. The smog fills your lungs and you wonder what the long term affects of it will have on the people there.
Imagine all the people – India just reached the 1 billion mark this past year. There are a little less than 7 billion people in the world, and 1 billion of them are concentrated in India. People are everywhere.
Living for today – And they are working hard, and living hard, and hoping for a better future for their kids. And you pray that that future does not include child labor and sex trafficking.
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Imagine there are no countries – there is only India.
It isn't hard to do - India is biblical. It is the bible that you read about and have been imagining for years. It is the place where you understand that the foot washing was a profound action taken by Jesus when you see children running around all day without shoes on. You see the cows and the dogs, and the running sewers, and the trash as they jump over all these things while they’re playing. It is the place where the foot washing makes sense.
In a place like America, where socks are always worn and feet are washed clean daily by hot water that pours by the gallons out of shower spigots, the foot washing seems like a simple ritual cleansing to us Westerners – not the humbling experience of washing cow dung and who- knows-what-else off another’s feet with your hands into water that is cold, without anti-bacterial soap to wash with afterwards.
Nothing to kill or die for – because you are too busy trying to keep yourself and your children and your family alive. Where will your next meal come from? Will this tiny scrape turn into an infection? Will the cough that your child has developed go away? Is the rattle in your lungs tuberculosis? Will the rampant AIDs epidemic make its way to your village?
And no religion too – Because all the beliefs fade onto an ecumenical haze behind the everyday struggle that is life. Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism, at least in Durgapur, seem to exist side by side in an easy balance with one another. The Hindi temple just down the street welcomes us western visitors as we sit and stare at the statues without any real understanding of the Gods those statues represent. But the people allow us to sit and to stare and to just be there.
Imagine all the people – 1 billion people. Sleeping on the streets. Washing in ponds that are brown and murky with no rainfall since last August. Children leading even smaller children through the streets of Kolkata (Calcutta) without parents in sight. Cars, cows, rickshaws, and auto-rickshaws vying for space on crowded streets with herds of cows and goats and a multitude of bicycles and pedestrians.
Living life in peace – Wouldn’t that be wonderful? But while we were there the Maoists where very active in the northern villages. And Bishop Dutta informed us that they were dragging government officials - suspected of corruption - out into the streets and shooting them in the head as examples to others. Some of the villages had to cancel their pilgrimage to the Thanksgiving service in Durgapur because the Maoists were too active.
You may say that I'm a dreamer – because I want to go back for a number of years after my ordination to the priesthood.
But I'm not the only one – Because Bishop Dutta, and priests of the Diocese of Durgapur, and the Christians who sustain themselves with steadfast faith have built: a hostel for children, a sewing center, a medical clinic, a computer lab, a garden that feeds all the children, projects in the outlying villages that produce income and give skills to people who would otherwise become daily laborers. They have ordained the first female Episcopal priest in West Bengal, and are currently working on a cathedral that will be able to host the 5,000 people projected to attend next years Thanksgiving Day service.
I hope someday you'll join us – If you feel so called. I know that individually we all have our ministries. And they are all about doing the business of God’s work. India is my ministry. And so is Camp Henry…and Ascension, and children…and youth. The difference with India? They have so little. And I have so much.
Imagine all the people – Being in relationship with God and with each other – and keeping each other company, just as Peter and John and James kept company with Jesus.
Sharing all the world – Where we all come together with the communion of saints and Moses and Elijah, and our friends in Durgapur, India on the other side of the world. And we are all in fellowship with God and Jesus and one another…
You may say I'm a dreamer – But you have to wonder if Jesus wasn’t too?
And I'm not the only one – At least, I hope not. Because there is so much to accomplish in the world and the ocean is so big and my boat is so small.
I hope someday you'll join us -
And the world will live as one.
Amen.
