Text:  Psalm 18:1-13, 46-50

Date:  June 28, 2015

Pleasant Street UMC, Waterville, ME

(c) Thomas L. Blackstone, Ph.D., Preacher

Movies of Maine:  Charlotte's Web

Psalm 18

To the leader. A Psalm of David the servant of the Lord, who addressed the words of this song to the Lord on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. He said:
I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
   my God, my rock in whom I take refuge,
   my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised;
   so I shall be saved from my enemies. 

The cords of death encompassed me;
   the torrents of perdition assailed me;
the cords of Sheol entangled me;
   the snares of death confronted me. 

In my distress I called upon the Lord;
   to my God I cried for help.
From his temple he heard my voice,
   and my cry to him reached his ears. 

Then the earth reeled and rocked;
   the foundations also of the mountains trembled
   and quaked, because he was angry.
Smoke went up from his nostrils,
   and devouring fire from his mouth;
   glowing coals flamed forth from him.
He bowed the heavens, and came down;
   thick darkness was under his feet.
He rode on a cherub, and flew;
   he came swiftly upon the wings of the wind.
He made darkness his covering around him,
   his canopy thick clouds dark with water.
Out of the brightness before him
   there broke through his clouds
   hailstones and coals of fire.
The Lord also thundered in the heavens,
   and the Most High uttered his voice.
The Lord lives! Blessed be my rock,
   and exalted be the God of my salvation,
the God who gave me vengeance
   and subdued peoples under me;
who delivered me from my enemies;
   indeed, you exalted me above my adversaries;
   you delivered me from the violent. 

For this I will extol you, O Lord, among the nations,
   and sing praises to your name.
Great triumphs he gives to his king,
   and shows steadfast love to his anointed,
   to David and his descendants for ever.

So there I was, sitting with the Worship Team a month or so ago, describing this great idea for a summer preaching series.  You know, summer, when nothing happens in the secular world, and so the church is free to reflect on the peaceful, relaxed side of Christianity, in which we all go fishing with Jesus, hang out at the Pot Luck supper with Peter, and sit at the Lord's feet with Mary.  So why not take a look back at a few of the many movies that are set here in our home state, in search of some meaningful religious lessons close to home.  Don't worry, I said.  The tourists will love it, and the local folks too. 

Well, the last couple of weeks have not been the summer I predicted. 

·                    It began with the horrors of the shooting rampage through our sister church in Charleston, and the resulting calls for the banning of the Confederate Battle Flag,

·                    It continued with the reaffirmation that thousands of Mainers, and millions of Americans will continue to be able to afford their health insurance,

·                    And finally there was the predicted affirmation Friday by the US Supreme Court that the Same Sex marriages of our members, friends, family, and neighbors are now legal, not just here in Maine and like-minded states, but throughout the United States of America, wherever our beloved Constitution holds sway. 

And so with all this going on, both good and tragic, you can imagine that I began to cringe in fear a little when I tried to remember what sophisticated film I had chosen for this first Sunday of our series:  Charlotte's Web.  But I have realized before that when I reach out in faith and tell you what I'm actually going to preach about on a given Sunday, God--more often than not--doesn't let me down, even or especially if it has not been an ordinary week. 

So Charlotte's Web, set in Somerset County, Maine, written by E.B. White, but filmed, sadly, in Australia to accommodate a winter filming schedule when Maine looks a little too much like Maine.  If you look closely, you can see that the trees around the barn have been painted orange to stand in for a New England Autumn.  That is a lot of effort to go to in my opinion, to recreate the Pine Tree State, but so be it. 

Our hero is Wilbur, the runt of a very large litter of pigs, saved by young Fern from a quick & merciful death by her promise that she will raise him, and he will be the best pig ever.  To do away with him just because he is small, she argues, is "unfair, and unjust."  Her plan is difficult to put into motion, and her father tries to release her from her promise, but she curtly replies, "I didn't make my promise to you; I made it to Wilbur."  Eventually, a deal is worked out with the neighboring farmer, Homer.  As Wilbur is dropped into his new home, the narrator reflects that sometimes bringing two very ordinary things together like a pig and a barn results in an extraordinary miracle. 

Well, Wilbur is going to need a miracle, because as you know Spring pigs have only one purpose, to ensure the winter supply of ham, bacon, and chops.  When apprised of that reality, Wilbur responds incredulously, but humans love pigs!  No, his animal friends assure him, Humans love pork; there's a difference.  Just about then a familiar "fear not" is heard from the rafters.  It is the voice of Charlotte, an exceptional spider with an exceptional gift.  You will not be sacrificed for food, Wilbur, I promise, she says.  And like Fern, Charolotte NEVER breaks her promises. 

To me, this is the turning point of the film, that an apparently small and helpless creature undertakes with boldness to change the world in which she lives.  If in fact the slaughter is unfair and unjust, Charlotte will have none of it.  She has heard the cry of the innocent, and she will use her gifts to deliver him. 

Is it a complete and total surprise that Charlotte's actions echo the spirit of our lesson from the Psalms this morning?  Remember those words…

In my distress I called upon the Lord;
   to my God I cried for help.
From his temple he heard my voice,
   and my cry to him reached his ears. 

No, not a surprise, because Charlotte's Web, like every good book or movie, has a messianic figure at its heart, an agent of change to use the language of family system's theory.  And when a change agent is on the loose, anything can happen.  Like any good Messiah, Charlotte is there to provide deliverance from evil, or at least the smokehouse, but how?  Even she doesn't know.  That night, however, as she goes about her business of web weaving, the answer comes to her.  The web itself will bear her message and express her belief in Wilbur's inherent worth.  Diverting from her usual web, Charlotte prepares the words above Wilbur's head, "Some pig."  Now, when the web is noticed, no one wants to talk about the spider, they all want to talk about the pig.  That's also a good strategy for Messiah's, by the way, keep the spotlight where it belongs, not on oneself.  Remember all those mornings when Jesus slipped quietly away?  Yeah, that's his Charlotte moment.  Let them talk about the miracle rather than the miracle worker. 

Well, in the morning, there are the words, "Some pig," up above Wilbur's head.  And people begin to notice that he IS in fact, some pig.  You see, that's Charlotte's gift, to only use her web to tell the truth about Wilbur.  Well, the farmer's family does what anyone would do when they hear of a miracle.  They call their pastor, who by all appearances is a United Methodist.  And the Pastor, in good pastoral fashion, chooses to say nothing, but rather refers people to his upcoming sermon on the topic in a week or two.  Ironically, it's the town doctor, a man of science, who understands the problem with all this, that the web was a miracle long before Charlotte started using it to send messages.  It's a thing of beauty and symmetry, he says.  How did you not see it before?

Well, even the miracle web is not enough to hold people's attention, and Charlotte's work continues every few weeks.  Soon the web reveals new words:  Terrific, Radiant, and finally, Humble.  With such words above his head, Wilbur captures the imagination of his world, and is allowed to live to see Christmas, and many Christmases after that.  As all this winds to a close, and Charlotte's many babies fly away on the winds, the narrator reminds us that because Charlotte showed the specialness of this pig, the community itself felt special, and because of that they treated one another with more kindness and affection, and because they did that, an ordinary miracle had come to town.  Yeah, Charlotte! 

And so there is that inevitable question, So what?  So what, that a loveable children's book has been brought to life in our midst?  And yet, I can't help think that there is a lesson in all this, even on this week when so much has happened.  There's was an editorial cartoon that captured my imagination this week, in which a Confederate flag on a flag pole is being slowly lowered out of site, and then rising to take its place is a rainbow flag.  No words, no slogans, just a comment left by a user, "There it is." 

You see, banners matter, symbols have meaning, and words can in fact (to quote Charlotte), change the world.  Charlotte was Wilbur's savior, his redeemer, his deliverer.  And he was saved by her choice to place above him words that reflected his true nature:  Some Pig, Terrific, Radiant, Humble.  Society puts banners above all of us, of course.  Not all of them are so kind.  Imagine some other words that would convey other messages, "outsider", "dirty", "lazy", "scum", freeloader, less than human.  Those who raised the Confederate Flag over South Carolina reinforced the message that black citizens are less worthy than others, that they are a danger, that they need to be controlled if not exterminated.  It wasn't intended as harm to others, perhaps, but it gave permission to a young man steeped in hate, that perhaps even the most heinous of crimes would be  forgiven, if it asserted the God given rights of a supreme white race.  But imagine if the shooter that day had grown up seeing other words in the webs above his brothers and sisters?  Imagine if he saw words like devout, kindhearted, forgiving, generous.  Perhaps then he would have spared the lives in the church that night, and allowed his own experience to rule his heart, rather than the narrow opinions and bigotry of his elders. 

Charlotte delivers Wilbur by changing how others see him, as his true self rather than his society-given reputation as a beast to be slaughtered.  I know it's just a children's story, but its importance is clear.  Words matter.  It matters that so-called "gay marriage" can just be "marriage" now.  That those who live with the stigma of poverty will have some options when it comes to caring for their bodies.  It matters when words like worthless, imperfect, and less-than, infect even our Christian vocabulary as we sit in judgment over others, a role that God never intended for us.  Rather, we are to build one another up in love, to perceive and name the blessings of our fellow human beings to deliver them from the spiritual  smokehouses of death all around us. 

However this week's news has affected you, let us be reminded that we have incredible power to be Charlotte to one another, to make promises that we mean to keep, and then do everything in our power to keep them, even if it is a matter of life and death, and sometimes it will be.  May you be amazed at the ordinary miracles in your life, and may you be the miracle that another of God's children is praying for, longing for some word of approval, praise, or acknowledgement, even from one of the least of these God's creatures.  Amen.