Sermon begins at 14:34
In her 1977 book, Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison centers her story of a young black man and his struggles with identity, family, and society around the motif of flight.
In fact, this organizing motif shows us that the purpose of the book is about learning to fly.
Milkman is the nickname of Macon Dead the third, because his mother breastfed him until he was 6 years old and a neighbor saw it through the window one day.
Milkman lived a fairly privileged life for a young black man growing up on “not Doctor” street on the South side of Detroit, where is maternal grandfather had been the only black doctor, and the white politicians had tried to rename his street to “Mains Avenue and not Doctor Street.”
His father was a successful entrepreneur with an empire of properties and the nicest car on that side of town.
And it was rumored that his crazy aunt Pilate, named for Pontius Pilate by her father Macon Dead the first, the only word his paternal grandfather ever wrote before he was killed by white men for being an incredible farmer,
It was rumored that she had a bag full of gold hanging in a green bag in her house, where she made homemade wine and sold it to make ends meet.
Milkman floats through life inconsequentially.
He despises his parents, treats the women in his life as inconvenient commodities, and hangs with his best friend Guitar, who sometimes speaks wisdom and sometimes just wants to dull the pain of his existence by talking.
In Chapter 8, Milkman and Guitar are planning to steal the gold that belongs to his aunt Pilate.
Dreaming of a life of luxury and all the things they could do with the gold, the two young men come across a white flightless peacock at a used car lot.
They chase it briefly, but cannot catch it.
Noticing that the bird cannot fly, Milkman asks why it cannot fly.
Guitar tells him, “too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can’t nobody fly with all that shit. Wanna fly, you got to give up all the shit that ways you down.”
Ironically, the young men immediately give up their conversation about planning their heist and begin fantasizing about all the ways they’ll spend Pilate’s treasure.
The white peacock, which symbolizes the allure of white privilege and all of its vanity, steals their focus, captures their imagination, and makes them flightless.
The rest of the story is about Milkman slowly and painfully learning how to fly, not by chasing a white peacock, but by finding his roots;
Learning how to live, having been born into the Dead Family.
This classic story by one of America’s great lyrical novelists is ultimately about escaping what W.E.B. DuBois called the double-consciousness of the African-American experience;
Escaping the dead life.
What is so powerful about Morrison’s book is that through the story of Milkman Dead, we learn a universal, Gospel truth;
We can live a dead life, or we give up the stuff that’s weighing us down, learn to fly, and lead a risen life.
The Apostle Paul puts it like this, when he writes to the Ephesians… (I’m paraphrasing)
Put away falsehood – don’t lie to yourself or to other people.
Be angry, but don’t let your anger control you.
Don’t steal – don’t let greed or envy of the white peacock control your actions
Don’t tear things down, build them up, especially with your words.
Don’t let bitterness or resentment keep you from being the person you want to be to those around you.
Finally, as I repeat just about every week before we come up to receive our living bread.
“Walk in love as Christ loved us and gave himself for us an offering and sacrifice to God.”
In so many ways, Toni Morrison is presenting us with the same kind of dichotomy that we discussed last week about which kind of bread we choose to consume.
I wonder how that conversation has sat with you this week.
I wonder how many times you have asked yourself if you are consuming ordinary bread, or living bread.
I wonder if you’ve seen the allures of the flightless white peacock and yearned to fly instead of be weighed down.
King David chose the better path in our lesson from 2nd Samuel this morning.
Absalom was David’s son.
Like Milkman Dead, Absalom grew up in a life of privilege.
After seeing his sister Tamar raped by his own brother, Absalom plots revenge, which leads him on a path toward rebelling against his father and seeking his throne.
In the final battle, Absalom is killed, as we read in our part of the story for today.
Ironically, the narrator tells us that Absalom’s head got caught in a branch and he was stuck hanging between heaven and earth.
Like Milkman before his transfiguration, Absalom cannot fly, and he is slain.
All of David’s generals rejoice at the news of this usurper being killed.
They drink greedily from the cup of wrath and revel in revenge.
But what does David do?
He grieves… because Absalom, for whatever else he did, was still David’s son.
The world told David that he should be happy and rejoice at death and vengeance, but all that does to our souls is weigh us down so that we cannot fly.
I think this message is especially necessary just two days after we marked the 10 year anniversary of Michael Brown being killed in Ferguson, Missouri,
Because one of the things that can weigh us down, as Morrison points out, and as 2nd Samuel shows us is vengeance and violence.
Dishing out the same violence that has been perpetrated against people of color, tearing down instead of building up.
This week has seen protests flare back up in Ferguson.
Most of those protesting just wants to make sure that the gains and changes that have occurrred over the past 10 years don’t stop.
But, just like 10 years ago, there are a few people who have brought violence to the streets of Ferguson, leaving one police officer in critical condition; an officer who wasn’t even part of the Ferguson police force 10 years ago.
And we have to ask ourselves are we chasing after the allure of a white flightless peacock, or are we trying to learn how to fly?
Jesus came down from heaven to teach us how to give up the Dead life and to learn how to fly.
“for as all die in Adam, so through Christ all are made alive.” (1 Corinthians 15:22)
This is the condition our condition is in.
This is our word of hope.
This is our living bread.
Jesus has given us the opportunity to learn how to fly, if we’re ready and able to ditch the baggage,
Not discounting the pain or grief, not giving up our power.
Toni Morrison knew about all of the troubles of the world that affected the black community especially, and all of the trauma that she experienced as a black woman in particular.
And yet, she still commends this type of life; a winged life of freedom; a Jesus type of life.
In honor of Michael Brown, I want to close by reading you what is engraved on the memorial at the place where he was killed.
I hope it will give you strength to continue your flight lessons with Jesus; to continue to choose the living bread and life everlasting.
“I would like the memory of Michael Brown to be a happy one. He left an afterglow of smiles when life was done. He leaves an echo whispering softly down the ways, of happy and loving times and bright sunny days. He’d like the tears of those who grieve to dry before the sun of happy memories that he left behind when life was done.”
Amen.
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