Dear Brothers and Sisters: The scriptural text for this morning’s sermon is taken from Genesis 4 verses 8 and 9. These verses say as follows:
And Cain talked with Abel, his brother. It came to pass when they were in the field; Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and slew him. The Lord said unto Cain, “Where is Abel, thy brother?” And he said, “I know not. Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The foregoing lines are taken directly from my mother’s Bible. But they must be taken with a warning that comes from the Gershwin-Heyward production of Porgy and Bess. In that production, which is the most well known American opera, there are these lines:
The things that you’re liable to read in the Bible
Ain’t necessarily so.
So we have a dilemma at the outset as to whether the words about Cain slaying Abel should be believed. But because these words come from my mother’s Bible, I am inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, I hold an entirely different view of the remarks made by Cain when he said, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” My view is that indeed in a civilized society, we are all the keepers of our brothers.
From my viewpoint, there is unalloyed joy that flows from the keeping of our brothers. In this case, I am speaking of a man and his wife. I will include her as a brother.
As many of you know, for several years my wife and I have been involved in the fortunes of an immigrant couple. They are hard-working and totally honest. My joy flows from the fact that as time has produced some drawbacks, my wife and I have been able to help this couple.
The wife does housework for a number of people. Her husband is a truck driver. As the year 2011 drew to a close, it appeared that she would need an operation on her back which could be quite extensive and expensive. Fortunately, when she showed the MRI to a chiropractor, he told her that there was no need for surgery at all. He could take care of the problem.
In the case of the husband, it developed that he had a basal cell carcinoma on his forehead. The attempts to remove this form of cancer were not fruitful. We were able to introduce him to my specialist (MOHS surgeon) and in a few weeks’ time the problem will be cured.
The fact of the matter is that people who do housework and local truck drivers don’t earn an enormous amount of money. Certainly they earn less than Mitt Romney makes. In the bargain, this couple has three children whom they are trying to educate in the schools of Summit, New Jersey. Summit is not necessarily one of your low-cost towns. As a matter of fact, it is a high-cost city in which to live.
The end of the story is that we have been blessed, I suppose, and are able to help with the high cost of health care for this uninsured couple. That is the reason that I call this an unalloyed joy to know that our resources are able to help this deserving couple who really have no place to turn.
And so I am delighted to report that it gives my wife and me unalloyed joy to be able to help someone who needs help fairly desperately.
So this sermon started out with a reading from Genesis that progressed to a real-life example as to whether or not we are all keepers of our brothers. I would argue most forcefully that indeed we are all keepers of our brothers. I realize that this is not the case, particularly from watching the Republican primary candidates. But there are good people in this world aside from the Newt Gingriches who will agree with me that we are all in this together and that we must all be keepers of our brothers.
Ordinarily at the end of a sermon, or somewhere before the end, there is a collection plate which will be passed from one person to another. This is a sermon that you get for free. There will be no collection basket. The only thing that I want you to carry away from this sermon is that indeed we are all keepers of our brothers. That is more than true for those of us who are more fortunate.
Having heard the sermon and its adaptation to people who need a bit of help, there now arrives the time for the postlude from the organ. The pastor at this point may invoke a blessing on the crowd. I am not skilled in the way of pastorship. As the organ plays, I would hope that you will take with you the simple thought that we are all responsible for our brothers’ welfare.
And now for Cain and Abel: I hope that my parishioners will also take with them the thought that “The things that you’re liable to read in the Bible ain’t necessarily so.” DuBose Heyward wrote those lines and they were set to music by George Gershwin. If you have any complaints about the sermon, which I believe was celestially inspired, or about those lines, then take your complaints to the lyricist, Mr. DuBose Heyward. I believe that he died a few years back. If there is no response, I will not be surprised. But in the meantime, I want you to think about the keepers of brothers when you are asked, “Are you your brother’s keeper?” The answer should be, “You bet your backside I am!”
E. E. CARR
February 3, 2012
Essay 630
Postscript: When I repeated this story to my lawyer who is a staid fellow, he corrected me. He said that the proper form would be, “You bet your sweet ass I am.” He and I have been arguing about words for years, but I enthusiastically accepted his correction.
EEC
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Kevin’s Commentary: Here’s the Porgy and Bess Wikipedia link, for those curious.
This is one of several of Pop’s essays which remind me somewhat of Kurt Vonnegut’s writings. For instance, in God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, the protagonist gives a baptismal speech for newborn twins: “Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”
Vonnegut did plenty of compelling writing along these lines, and honestly I think Pop would enjoy it except that he has completely and utterly written off fiction, because he feels there is nothing to learn from it. This is perhaps the singular point on which I disagree with my grandfather most. And I think if he were to ever foray back into fiction, which seems deeply unlikely, Vonnegut would be a great place for him to start. Slaughterhouse Five would be an obvious but perhaps poor first choice given the war background. Maybe Sirens of Titan or even shorter essays like Harrison Bergeron, linked here, might be more appropriate. But from the looks of things, it’s all moot, which is unfortunate.