Sermon: "Dreamers of the Day"

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"Dreamers of the Day"

By Rev. Julie Yarborough

October 24, 1999

Everyone dreams, but not equally:
Those who dream at night with their eyes closed
awake to find it was all fantasy.
But the dreamers of the day are the dangerous ones
that they live their dreams with open eyes
and make them possible.
-- T. E. Lawrence (of Arabia)

en I was younger, I spent a lot of time daydreaming about the world and what it might look like someday. I believed that it was up to each one of us to make this world into a place that was just and fair for all people: a place in which children wouldnt have to go to bed hungry, and parents wouldnt have to scrounge for food and water; a place in which everyone would have a warm, dry home to live in, and plenty of clean clothes to wear; a place with clean water to swim in and clean air to breathe; a place where people wouldnt be judged by the color of their skin, or their ethnic background; a place where there would be no fear of war, nuclear bombs, or radiation poisoning. I believed that this was what the kin-dom of God would look like, and that it was up to me to help make that dream a reality.

In recent years, Ive grown much more cynical about the world and my power to make a difference in the grand scheme of things. I dont know if that comes from living in the Northeast, or from simply getting older and wiser, but I miss that optimism and hope that some might call naivete.

Surrounded by news of school shootings, toxic poisoning of the environment, civil wars, ethnic cleansing, racial profiling, nuclear reactor leaks, rapes, murders, and kidnappings, its no wonder that discouragement sets in. What can we possibly do in the face of so much evil and hatred in this world? Where do we begin?

I recently read a story about Craig Kielburger, a young man who started the organization For the Children. Craig was 12 years old when he read a newspaper article about Iqbal Masih, another 12 year old, who spent much of his young life working in a carpet factory in Pakistan. Iqbal managed to escape from the slave-like conditions under which he was working. He began to travel in Pakistan and in the West, speaking out against child labor and the deplorable conditions in which he and thousands of other children were working. The day Craig Kielburger learned about Iqbal was the day after he had been murdered because of his advocacy work.

Craig was haunted by this news. Why did Iqbal have to work in a factory? And why was he murdered? he wondered. All that day in school, Craig couldnt stop thinking of Iqbal and the other children like him. He went to the library and looked up information on child labor practices. Almost everything he found referred to the terrible conditions found in Europe and America at the turn of the century. Craig began to delve more deeply into the problem. He called human rights organizations, but most of the people he talked with gave him vague answers. Isnt there anything I can do? He kept wondering. Why dont they take me seriously? Finally he spoke with someone from the Youth Action Network who answered his questions and encouraged him. In the course of conversation, Craig said, "I think there should be an organization of kids working to fight against child labor laws."

"Why dont you start one?" the person on the other end of the phone asked. Craig decided to talk to the other kids at his school and see if he could drum up some support. They began working hard doing research, educating others about the issue, writing letters and gathering signatures on petitions. Today Craig Kielburger is 16 years old and Free the Children is an international organization with chapters in over 20 countries, involving over 100,000 children, who have had an impact on child labor laws all over the world.

Craig Kielburger is a person with vision. A kid who dreamed with his eyes open and had enough hope and compunction to believe he could make that dream come true, despite the nay-sayers who told him that he was too young to really make a difference.

Now, Im not saying that we have to go out and start an organization or begin a movement in order to make a difference in this world. But I would like to challenge each of us to think about what we can do in our daily lives to make this world more just, more peaceful, more loving, more caring.

I was speaking with the new Cantor at Temple Sinai the other day, and she said, "Orthodox Jews believe that the Messiah has yet to come. Reform Jews believe that we are called to be co-creators with God, working to create the Messianic age."

I was surprised by her comment, because thats what mainline Protestants believe! Only we would probably use different language and say that we are co-creators with God, working to realize the kin-dom on earth. As we say in the Lords prayer each week: "Thy kin-dom come, on earth as it is in heaven."

I say kin-dom, not Kingdom, on purpose. I was introduced to this term at Yale Divinity School when I read an essay by Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz, a professor who is currently on the faculty at Drew. Ada Maria coined the phrase kin-dom for two reasons: one, because Kingdom presumes that God is male, and two, because the concept of a Kingdom is hierarchical and elitist. "The word kin-dom makes it clear that when the fullness of God becomes a day to day reality in the world-at-large, we will all be sisters and brothers kin to each other." ¹

Ada Maria is one of many theologians who agree that the task for Christians is to be co-creators with God in transforming the world. "Our ongoing act of creation," she writes, "Our work to transform the world, is both cause and effect of the struggle to have a love relationship with others, including God. This work of transformation to become a full person and to build the human community is the work of salvation." ²

How do we act as co-creators with God, working to create the kin-dom on earth? We can begin with our own families, those with whom we struggle each day to have loving relationships. We start with being intentional about spending time together, saying a kind word to each family member every day, paying attention to our children, our parents, our siblings, and our spouses. But our responsibility doesnt end with our own relations, or even with our own communities. We are called to make a difference in the world around us: to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to dream with open eyes.

What does it mean for us to dream with our eyes open?

First of all, dreaming with open eyes means looking outside our comfortable surroundings and seeing the pain in the world. In Audre Lordes poem, "Contact Lenses," she describes the process of being able to see better, and the pain that comes with that new vision.

Lacking what they want to see
makes my eyes hungry
And eyes can feel
Only pain.
Once I lived behind thick walls
of glass
and my eyes belonged
to a different ethic
timidly rubbing the edges
of whatever turned them on.
Seeing usually
was a matter of what was
in front of my eyes
matching what was
behind my brain.
Now my eyes have become
a part of me exposed
quick risky and open
to all the same dangers.
I see much
better now
And my eyes hurt. ³

Looking carefully at the world around us will undoubtedly be a painful process, for the world is full of pain and suffering. We live very privileged lives and it is easy for us to build gates and put up walls to keep ourselves protected from that which we do not wish to see. Yet, Jesus calls us out of our comfort zones, to dine with those on the margins of society: the tax collectors and prostitutes, the lepers, orphans and widows of our day.

When we dream with open eyes, it means that we see what needs to be changed. We dont just look at the painful stuff and then close our eyes. We hurt, too. We weep with those who are weeping and stand in solidarity with them. We offer an outstretched hand, or a sandwich and a cup of soup. We stand beside those in the welfare lines, or offer to teach a child to read. We write letters or demonstrate in protest. We see where the hurting is, and go there, even if we dont know what to say or do, simply to be present as a reminder of Gods love.

Dreaming with our eyes open means that we are hopeful, but that we are also realists. When we walk into situations with our eyes open, we see the challenges that lie before us. We realize that there will be roadblocks in our path, but we do not let them deter us. We maintain our sense of perspective, but remain people of faith, realizing that we do not have to do the work of transformation all by ourselves. We are co-creators with a God who seeks justice as much as we do. We are followers of Jesus, a man who taught us what it means to seek justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with our God.

Dreaming with our eyes open doesnt always mean that we can see the end in sight. Sometimes it means trusting the path by taking one step at a time seeing a need and going to meet it. When Geoff and Ginger Worden started taking soup and sandwiches to homeless folks under the Brooklyn Bridge in 1988, they had no idea that in ten years time, their actions would evolve into the organization of Bridges, which has served hundreds, if not thousands of homeless people, and incorporated over 10,000 volunteers from the suburbs. Ginger and Geoff simply saw a need and felt called to address it.

To dream with our eyes open means that we have the ability to make our dreams a reality (and that can be dangerous!) Especially when those dreams threaten the status quo in order to restore justice and eliminate suffering of the poor just ask Iqbal Masih.

What are the dreams hidden inside of you? Where does your passion lie? What needs might God be calling you to address? Maybe its time to share your dream with someone else.

Dom Helder Camara, former Archbishop from Brazil, is quoted as saying, "When we dream alone, it remains only a dream. When we dream together, it is not just a dream, it is the beginning of reality."

Together we have the power to make dreams come true.

Come dreaming with me!

Amen.

¹ Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz, "Solidarity: Love of Neighbor in the 1980s," in Lift Every Voice: Constructing Christian Theologies from the Underside, Susan Brooks Thistlethwaite and Mary Potter Engel, editors, (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1990), p.304.

² Ibid., p. 33.

³ Audre Lorde, "Contact Lenses," The Black Unicorn, (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1978), p. 94.