Ross Kane, a recently returned from Sudan Young Adult Service Corps missionary, is a member of the Mission Personnel Orientation staff

William Wilberforce has long been quite a hero of mine, and so when I rather alarmingly read on Saturday night that I would be giving a homily this morning, my fears were somewhat assuaged when I saw that my preaching would be a more enjoyable task than I first thought…

While William Wilberforce is best remembered by some in the Anglican Communion as the one feast day figure whom no one can say five times fast, he was in fact a British Parliamentarian hailed as the "Renewer of Society." He was well known for his relentless work in abolishing the slave trade, he was active in promoting legislation for just labor laws in the difficult early days of the industrial revolution, he tirelessly worked to end child labor, and then, somehow amidst that impressive resume, William Wilberforce even manages to remind me of Christmas…

My first Christmas in Africa, a fellow Episcopal missionary and myself decided that if we were going to spend Christmas away from our friends and loved ones, then we may as well do so in…well…a tropical paradise. So we set our sights to Zanzibar, one of the oldest and most beautiful settlements in Africa.

Now I should mention Christmas is perhaps the worst holiday of the year for volunteers and missionaries. All those tremendous sensations which we have carried with us from our youth that are associated with Christmas in our culture are stolen from us, many of which were so naturally a part of the season that we didn't even notice them until they were gone -- the fresh smell of cold early winter air is replaced by the body odor of the Kenyan public transportation system, the sight and warmth of a fireplace is replaced by the warmth of crippling heat and humidity, the sounds of caroling around the neighborhood is replaced by sounds of relentlessly tooting car-horns. But it's the smallest things that I missed the most. Turkey stuffing. My stocking. A Charlie Brown Christmas Special. All those things Josh and I knew we'd miss, so we figured the best thing to do was to just distract ourselves…

Well, Zanzibar lived up to our expectations of distraction -- I recall reading St. Augustine alongside pristine coastlines of the Indian Ocean, snorkeling alongside resplendent coral reef and even alongside a mother dolphin leading her children in the water. On the 25th of December we went on a spice tour and experienced all sorts of exotic cloves and coffees, on the 24th I witnessed one of the most brilliant sunsets I'd ever seen -- the Indian ocean in the background with children playing soccer on the beach in the foreground of Zanzibar's Stone Town.

But, despite all this, it still wasn't Christmas. A gaping hole that is my favorite holiday was still there. Except for one moment -- on Christmas Eve. Josh and I decided to attend the Christmas Eve service at the local Anglican Cathedral. On an island that's probably 90% Muslim, and only about 5% Christian, this Cathedral has certainly stood alone for us Anglicans (and even then the Catholics still get most of the parishioners…). As we walked into the Cathedral there was an informational sheet about the it, explaining how it was built on top of the former slave market in Zanzibar as a symbol of the defeat of slavery in the British Empire. Indeed much of the trade was centered here, and nearly all slaves from East Africa -- what is today Kenya and Tanzania among other countries -- had to pass through this island. And so there was a stained glass window commemorating David Livingstone and…William Wilberforce for their relentless efforts in ending this industry trading human beings, in ending this idea of negotiating the prices and lives of those made in God's image (or as Matthew writes, "the least of these").

So on that night I thought of William Wilberforce and his long career in the British Parliament. From 1780 to 1825, Wilberforce kept God's image-bearers very close to him, particularly those whose humanity was being stripped of them by other image-bearers. Particularly after a rather evangelical conversion to Christian faith in his early days in Parliament, he saw politics as a distinct call in which one can live a full vocation, influencing society at a high level for something very good and very just. After his conversion experience he actually wrestled with the idea of entering the priesthood, but on the advise of some very dear Christian friends, he saw that politics and law are an equally viable and vibrant platform from which to advance God's mission in this world, he saw that God needs servants in all tasks and vocations in life for Him to accomplish His mission in this world for which He gave Himself. And so this day we do celebrate a missionary -- a missionary within the British Parliament (which as Titus described the other day, with its hoots and taunts is very often a cross-cultural experience…), a missionary crying out for justice, and for reconciliation between the oppressor and the oppressed.

Wilberforce introduced his first anti-slavery motion in the House of Commons in 1788, and in a three-and-a-half hour oration he concluded with unabashed theological language: "Sir, when we think of eternity and the future consequence of all human conduct, what is there in this life [but slavery] that shall make any man contradict the dictates of his conscience, the principles of justice and the law of God!" Despite his very theological convictions, the motion was defeated that year of 1788. Wilberforce brought it up again… and again… and again… every year for eighteen years. The voices speaking of "the interests of the empire" were relentless as well, for farming around the colonies relied on cheap labor. But year after year, he pushed forward until the slave trade was finally abolished on 25 March 1806.

He continued the campaign against slavery itself, and the bill for the abolition of all slavery in British territories passed its crucial vote while he was on his deathbed in July 1833. (It would still be another 30 years, however, until the Emancipation proclamation was passed in the United States, freeing slaves on this side of the Atlantic.) In both the US and the British Empire, the voice of the Church was crucial in the abolitionist movement… No, the voice of the Church was certainly not united (as if it ever is or could be on this side), and certainly some voices in the Church were too frequently indistinguishable from its contemporary political voices, but those of conscious spoke out ever boldly. Year after year after year they stepped out in a bold venture of faith, believing in a God who frees us from the law, as Paul says in our reading, but also inspires us to participate in freeing our fellow beings from all forms of oppression and sin, both spiritual and physical.

So on that Christmas Eve I looked at that stained-glass window, I sat in that Cathedral which is perhaps the most resplendent yet simple physical imagery of our God I had yet experienced, and was overwhelmed at all of these images and symbols of a God who overcomes oppression and redeems our prideful attempts to be our own gods, lording ourselves over the lives of other human beings. I thought of how this repellent industry ended in large part through the simple and longstanding efforts of churchmen. And when they succeeded, these churchmen tore down the most important slave-market in East Africa and built a Cathedral. And where the very whipping post once stood, they built the altar.

So that night, although I could hardly understand a word of this liturgy spoken in Kiswahili in a not even half-full service, that night my eyes could not leave that altar, and there were even moments I nearly wept. A more powerful image of the Apostle John's words that "love conquers the world" I could not imagine. And so at this service, although it hadn't felt like Christmas all season, together with William Wilberforce and countless saints, I believed more powerfully than I can remember in the incarnation of a God who puts altars where whipping posts once stood.

AMEN.