The deafening bells of justice

A sermon for the congregation of St. Saviour Anglican Church, Penticton BC Sunday, February 1st, 2026 – Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany – The Very Rev. Ken Gray

Based on MATTHEW 5:1-12

I have never seen the streets of Minneapolis so full of people, and on such a cold, wintry day; temperatures of 12^O F and colder, with a wind chill added. We Minnesotans are a hardy lot, though I had to rummage around the house to find thicker gloves, a heavier scarf, and my warmest boots. We are likely to be outdoors today for quite a while. Best be prepared — I don’t know how street people can survive in these conditions.

I am here, with literally tens of thousands of other marchers, walking, hoping to push ICE out of our city, out of our state, our country, and our lives. Who could have predicted months or years ago that officers of the state can now pursue anyone, anytime, anywhere, with no probable cause, with or without warrants, with no restriction on violence, including lethal force, with no accountability — Faces masked; civilian clothes; disguised mummers, though Christmas is long past. We have been here before: Munich 1938; Soweto1976; Minneapolis 2026.

The massive crowd pulses forward; step by step; shoulder to shoulder. A squat little man around my age shoves a paper into my hand. In bold type a title reads: “ICE is on pace to kill more than 100 people this year.” A list of names follows: Keith Porter, a Cambodian named Parady La, and five Latinos named Heber Sanchaz Dominguez, Victor Manuel Diaz, Luis Beltran Yanez-Cruz, Luis Gustavo Nunez Caceres, and Geraldo Lunas Campos. Real lives; real people; real colour; real skin; real death.

We are climbing a hill now, not steep, but slippery underfoot. A smaller group has splintered off from the main flow heading towards a small park where a few pilgrims gather around a man seated on a knoll — Police? An organizer? An agitator? (What the administration now call  “domestic terrorists)? ­— Curious, I am afraid; I need to move closer. There is no PA system so it takes me some time to find a good position to hear what’s being said. It sounds like poetry.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Aha. Someone religious. Reminds me of my student days when we used to hang out at Speakers’ Corner in London to hear the latest religious enthusiast share life’s complications, and confusions, and alleged solutions. Our group today is anything but poor in spirit; we are angry; we are furious — at the invasion of our city, our  state, our streets. We feel humiliated by the actions of our government, from our president right on down the chain of command to the undisciplined federal officers stationed right here, right now. We look on, in disbelief, united in rage and determination to push back, hard.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

The list of mourners grows almost daily. For each person killed by ICE and in other ways by this administration, dozens if not hundreds of others are directly affected. Alex Pretti, a VA ICU nurse, a white professional, killed for using his phone to shoot video. Renee Good, killed when confronting armed, ill-trained thugs. Don’t believe me; watch the videos. Five shootings in January alone, involving federal agents conducting immigration enforcement. Five!

I watch and listen to this small, single voice, seemingly powerless though prophetic message beside a flood of anxious humanity. Yes, there’s the word: Humanity. We are all the same; we are human; whether police or protester, immigrant or US-born, whether president or pauper. We are all one. What’s the problem here? After a pause, he continues: 

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“They will be filled” . . . not they will be killed, wounded, cuffed with zap straps, jailed, deported. Where is righteousness to be found right here, right now? I listen to the administration, who commence their fake-speak only minutes after shootings — so much lying, so much public posturing, so many excuses, denials, false narratives. Where is the person in whom there is no guile? The person who has righteousness in their very blood, their bodies, their speech?

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Mercy . . . To pronounce the word almost seems like a joke; a fantasy. Those in power, whether in government, media, industry, commerce, many grow increasingly merciless. Their actions are diabolical – “so evil as to be suggestive of the devil.” Call it what it is; use the word. Work for its opposite: mercy. I remember a prayer from my choir boy childhood:

We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy.

Commit these words to memory folks. And also these:

O GOD, from whom all holy desires,
all good counsels, and all just works do proceed;
Give unto thy servants that peace
which the world cannot give;
that our hearts may be set to obey thy commandments,
and also that by thee,

we, being defended from the fear of our enemies,
may pass our time in rest and quietness;
through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour. Amen.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

O my, peacemakers. How can I make peace. I am here — praying, marching, listening, watching, hoping . . . But making peace? I Attend marches, check; I fund those who care for the oppressed,  check; I speak truth where I can find it, and share it, and challenge false teachings and tellings, check. None of this is easy work, even for people like me — and possibly you dear listener — who witness atrocity from a distance, while enjoying the privilege of physical comfort and social stability. It’s simplest to stay quiet. Don’t get involved. Assume that someone else will step up in the “speakers corner” of life. Right.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Ah yes, the prophets. Is this man on whom our eyes are fixed and our ears attuned a prophet? I think he is. A prophet is the one who says what must be said by the one willing to say it. “The prophets knew that justice was at the heart of the Torah. “Justice, and only justice, you shall pursue,” insists Deuteronomy (16:20). “What does the Lord require of you,” writes Micah, “but to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God?” (6:8). “Let justice flow down like a mighty river,” thunders Amos (5:24).”*

The deeper you get into the biblical story the more deafeningly the bells of justice ring.

So let the bells ring. And ring. And ring.

* Of Prophets, Priests, and Poets: Christian Formation at the Gates of Hell by Brian J. Walsh

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