BUT Let Justice Roll Down

 

Amos 1:1-2; 5:14-24

 

Woe to you who long for the day of the LORD.  Why do you long for the day of the LORD?  That day will be darkness, not light. It will be as though a man fled from a lion only to meet a bear, as though he entered his house and rested his hand on the wall only to have a snake bite him. Will not the day of the LORD be darkness, not light, pitch-dark, without a ray of brightness? “I hate, I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your assemblies. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them.  Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!

  

I have preached before on Amos when we did our prophets series, but it has come up again in our narrative lectionary, and Amos is one of the prophets that I appreciate the most, so we are going to look anew at some of these passages from Amos.  I threw in a couple extra verses that show more of Amos than we usually hear.  These are again hard passages, but I didn’t want to simply avoid them because they are difficult.  They show an angry God even more strongly than the original few verses for today.  They show a God who is promising to punish Israel, or the people of Israel for their behavior.  Hard words.  But these are words that call us to pay attention.

        Today’s passage in Amos is saying that God is angry, VERY angry with unjust behavior.  In specific, God is angry with the elite of Israel living in comfort and luxury, while the poor are suffering.  It doesn’t matter to God that these elite go to church, that they offer sacrifices to God, that they PRAISE GOD.  Again, it doesn’t matter that they praise God, serve God, or go to church.  I think this really gets to the heart of what Amos is about. God is saying, through Amos, that going to church, belief, even faith, is NOT what wins points with God.  What God cares about, consistently and fully, is your caring for and taking care of God’s people, in particular the poor and suffering people.  God is angry at the people who are hanging out with other rich people in lofty solemn church services and not caring for the poor.  God is angry at the offerings of wealth lifted up to God.  God wants those things given to God’s people, to the poor, to the disenfranchised, the outcast, the marginalized.  God is also pointing out that these religious, worshiping people are not superior to those around them.  They have become self-satisfied.  They believe they worship the right God, perhaps the ONLY TRUE God and they believe that because of it, they have nothing to fear. 

There are many Christians who take on superior attitudes of self-importance.  WE are the saved, WE are the ones who KNOW THE TRUTH.  WE ARE THE ONES who are God’s true children.  We don’t have to do anything or care about anyone outside of these walls because we are the chosen people of God.  But this passage convicts us.  It confronts this attitude.  To quote Amos, “Are your kingdoms, (your beliefs, your rituals) really better than those around you? .....I abhor the pride of Jacob and hate his strongholds, and I will deliver up these people and all that is theirs.”  God says this to US!!!  To Christians, yes.  And to all who sit in pride and luxury while others are poor and suffering.

This is the clear, repetitive, redundant message of Amos.  It is the clear, repetitive, redundant message of all the prophets. 

But then the question comes up, as it did a few weeks ago when I preached on discernment, does God really punish people?  And I want to start by asking all of you.  Did God really cause the Israelites to be attacked, the elite to be sent into exile, the temple to be demolished?  Did God do this?  What do you think?  The question is not an easy one.  If you say, “no, God doesn’t do that” then you have to own that you are saying this despite all the Biblical prophets who say otherwise.  You are arguing against a large, huge chunk of the Bible.  If you say, “yes, God does do this” then you may have to rethink your image of God.  Is a God who destroys people, any people, all good?  And what about a God who wipes out whole countries of people, including many who are innocent, who themselves are poor, or are children, or are marginalized.  According to the prophets and much of the Bible, this is what God does.  Is this the God you worship? 

Ultimately, you will have to answer this for yourselves.  I can’t tell you what to believe, what is the “right” thing to think.  But you are my church family.  And I will tell you how I answer that question for myself.  As always, I am more than happy to continue this conversation with you after church or at another time as well.

I believe that these passages are descriptive of a reality.  That reality is that we reap what we sow.  I’m not saying the world is fair.  Too many times criminal people continue to get richer while the hard working honest but poorer folk suffer.  But I still believe that we reap what we sow as a people, as a humanity, sometimes in grossly exaggerated, horrible, violent ways.  I think about kids who are bullied, picked on, harmed by bigger, meaner kids at school.  Sometimes those victims get angry enough that they pick up a weapon themselves and we have tragedies like at Columbine.  Did the victims of that violence deserve to be killed?  No, of course not.  But they were part, perhaps of meanness, perhaps of not standing up to meanness, they were part of the spark that ignited something that eventually became distorted and evil.  I think about kids who were abused as children who grow up and abuse others in turn.  Again, not a good thing, but what was reaped was sown as the violence continued. 

I believe this happens at the larger levels as well.  In countries where the poor are pushed down and deeply oppressed, eventually there are bloody revolts and revolutions where the oppressed stand up to their oppressors and overturn things.  While the war happens, things are again, much worse for everyone.  There is death, there is mayhem.  Things are bad.  But the fires didn’t and don’t start without sparks.  So too between countries.  When a country decides to be a bully with a self-satisfied superior attitude, eventually other countries get tired of it, ban together and there are wars.  When people of different faith traditions choose to be self-satisfied and smug about their religion being the “only” way, they may convert a few, but I know they generally turn off and even make enemies of many more people than they convert. 

On the positive side, too, humanity reaps what it sows.  A few years ago as I was waiting at a stop sign, I saw a man in a car up ahead of me roll down his window, try to say something to the car next to him, finally jump out of his own car, going behind and closing the trunk of the car next to him, whose trunk had flown open while we were all driving.  It was a small act of caring for him to shut his neighbor’s trunk.  But I found myself smiling at the small act, cheered by it, even moved by it.  That act of caring touched more than the people in the car next to him, for it touched many of us who watched it as well.  It reminded me of other times when people have stopped for no reason except to be neighborly, have offered a hand to help, have by their caring touched many lives in a positive way. 

I’m reminded of a Chinese Proverb:

Where there is light in the soul, there is beauty in the person.

Where there is beauty in the person there is harmony in the home.

Where there is harmony in the home there is honor in the nation.

Where there is honor in the nation there is peace in the world.

Our faith tells us that we are all connected.  And everything we do matters, affects the world.  Our faith tells us that in serving others we serve ourselves, not the other way around.  And I believe that plays out in our psyche as well as on a tangible level.  When we focus all our efforts on caring for ourselves, or even on caring just for those “like” us - who don’t really need the love or the resources, we may have millions, but it is empty.  The thrills wear thin after awhile and the silence that is left is devoid of meaning or love. In contrast, when we reach out with love and care, we may not have millions of dollars in our pockets, but we have hearts full of meaning, purpose and love.  How could we be richer than that?   We are all connected.  When your life is just, so is mine.  When yours is not, mine is empty and uneasy as well.  I believe the prophets described this reality.  They described a world in which the evils of humanity hurt and harm, and the good in humanity also can spread with grace and love.

That still doesn’t answer the question, though, of where God is in this.  Or rather, where I believe God is in this.  I believe that God is angry at injustice.  I believe God is disappointed in injustice.  God has given us the gifts we need to care for one another, and I believe it saddens, hurts and enrages God to see us serving ourselves rather than others.  I believe that we see the effects of that injustice when we look at Jesus on the cross, crucified because people were threatened by his call to love neighbor as self, threatened by the truth that we are connected and that we are therefore called to love each other in the same way we love ourselves and to give up what we have to actively follow Christ.  I believe the cross shows us where God is in the face of that injustice.  God suffers with the suffering.  God cries with the abandoned.  God calls out for truth and justice with the oppressed.

But I also don’t believe that God stays there.  God raises new life out of that death.  God brings hope and justice out of the unjust situations.  Even for the Israelites.  Just a short time after the book of Amos was written, the Israelites were almost entirely wiped out.  But out of that empty place, God, love, justice was the force that raised them again, returned them again, began their people again in Israel.  God resurrects.  God brings life out of death.

Do I believe that God punishes people?  No.  Even if you take a more literal approach to scripture, we have the story of Noah in which God makes a strong promise never to destroy people again.  But still, I believe punishment or emptiness comes, not from God, but it comes, none the less, to those who serve themselves rather than seeking to love, seeking to care.  Fortunately, even in those times God’s promise of new life and new beginnings is there for all of us, every day, in every way.  Let us try in all that we do to seek out that life, for others, for ourselves, for all creation. 

I want to end by reading you the very last part of the book of Amos. 

Amos: Chapter 9: 11-15

“In that day I will restore David’s fallen tent.  I will repair its broken places, restore its ruins, and build it as it used to be, so that they may possess the remnant of Edom and all the nations that bear my name,” declares the LORD, who will do these things.

 “The days are coming,” declares the LORD, “when the reaper will be overtaken by the plowman

and the planter by the one treading grapes. New wine will drip from the mountains and flow from all the hills. I will bring back my exiled people Israel; they will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them. They will plant vineyards and drink their wine; they will make gardens and eat their fruit. I will plant Israel in their own land, never again to be uprooted from the land I have given them,”

says the LORD your God.

AMEN.

Waters Shall Break Forth in the Wilderness

 

Isaiah 35:4-7a

Mark 7:24-37

 

Over and over, people were told not to bother Jesus.  The children were told to go away, Jairus was told not to bother the teacher, women were scorned for talking to him and despised for trying, others who were “less desirable” were told to go away. 

At some level I think we understand this.  Jesus was seen as very important.  And his time was understood to be, therefore, very valuable.  The disciples understood that he had a mission and they didn’t’ want Jesus to be bothered with those who were “beneath” him.  They didn’t want him distracted or his precious time used up by people whom they didn’t see as valuable or important to Jesus’ work or mission.  It’s like people keeping homeless folk from talking to the President.  The same idea: he is important, they are seen as “less so”.

In this case, the woman we only know as a “Greek” woman, “Syrophoenician by birth” approaches Jesus and even Jesus seems to want to send her away.  And he doesn’t just tell her that he only came to serve the Jews, which is what he was intending to communicate, he also insults her in one of the worse possible ways.  Today being called a dog or being called a female dog is highly insulting.  It was not any less so in Jesus’ time.  To tell her that he is there to feed the children, the Jews, and it isn’t right to throw the food to the dogs, is highly insulting.  Even Jesus, it would seem from this comment, had moments where he couldn’t seem to escape the pervasive humanness of ranking people. 

               We all rank people.  All of us do.  Years ago now, I remember going to visit a parishioner who was in an extended care facility and when I walked into the room, I saw an older person in a wheel chair sitting next to the parishioner.  I had no problem joining them in conversation, interrupting their time together because I made assumptions – she was either a family member, or maybe another patient who had wandered in to talk.  I felt okay entering their group for a few minutes as long as I could “rank” them in this way.  But when it turned out that she was actually the physical therapist, then I felt that I had imposed on her time.  And I excused myself.  She “ranked higher” as one of the staff at the hospital, and my time with the patient took a back seat.  But as I left, it caused me to think for a few minutes about how I rank people. 

I experienced this from the other side when my last congregation housed families for a couple weeks at a time in a program very similar to our “Winter’s Nights” program.  I learned to avoid telling our guests that I was the pastor because my experience had been that once they knew that, they would often treat me differently.  And while that different treatment tended to be greater respect, I still didn’t want it.  Life sometimes separates us into the haves and have-nots, but I’m all too aware that that line can be all too easily crossed.  My being the pastor there, and someone with a home and income did not and does not make me “better” or more worthy of respect, attention, or care than any of the guests or helpers who were here.  And that singling out, that difference in treatment made me uneasy.  We are all children of God.  I am not more deserving of respect because of my status here. 

Another pastor friend of mine told me of a time when he was mopping the floor in the church kitchen when several of the church deacons came in.  “Oh no, pastor!  That is not for YOU to do!” they exclaimed, again with the same “You are too good for this work!” attitude, one he worked actively to eradicate, but one that was extremely hard to stamp out. 

When I lived in Ohio, I was part of a small ecumenical pastors’ group that met once a month (this is a different group from my weekly lectionary group).  Our churches were all within the same small town in the Cleveland suburbs and we worked on mission projects in the community together: feeding, summer children’s camps, etc..  One time when we met I remembered talking about what an amazing group of pastors we had in this area, who worked so very well together and were really and truly colleagues and friends to one another.  One of the other pastors commented that yes, in other ministerial groups of which he had been a part, there had often been a lot of “posturing” between the pastors, with some trying to claim an upper hand, or more prominence based on things like the size of their congregations, the work their churches did, or how long they had been in ministry.  I frankly do not understand that choice.  We should all have the humility to see that we are all children of God.  That posturing is an arrogance that is unbefitting to those who would serve God. 

Our own Anti-Racism group recently finished reading the book, Caste, in which the author, Isabel Wilkerson talks about the cultural ranking of people that we have in this society.  We know these ranks because we are taught them in extremely covert ways throughout our lives by our communities: These are not innate rankings, but socially prescribed and socially created rankings that have become entrenched in our society.  Women are ranked under men, children are ranked under adults, people with money are ranked higher than those without, people who have white collar jobs tend to be ranked above blue collar jobs, the homeless are ranked extremely low.  And people of color are often on the very bottom of our ranking systems.

But Jesus shows us a different way.  Jesus stepped in time and time again when the disciples would push someone away, send someone away, and tell them to leave Jesus alone.  Again and again Jesus had to stop that action on the part of his disciples, “let the little children come to me” he said, and “leave her alone.  She is doing a good thing for me.”  Those who were outcast, considered unclean because of illness and infirmity were given his special attention.  Those who were ranked on the bottom of the culture at the time, those assumed to be damaged because they deserved to be damaged were not beneath his notice but were the targets of his notice.  The second story in the gospel today, about the deaf man is one such story.  He, too would have been seen as “less than” and would have been pushed away: it would have been assumed that his infirmity was a sign that he was less worthy.  But Jesus took the time to heal him, not only restoring his physical disability, but also restoring him to right relationship within his community.  He specifically and intentionally chose to give attention and care to those everyone else in the culture ranked lower.  Also notice that he confronted a basic idea of what it meant to be “deserving”.  Jairus and his daughter and the women with the hemorrhage may not have been “deserving” of Jesus’ healing according to the codes of the time, or by any other ranking.  But we are told very little about them.  We don’t know if they were “deserving” or not.  What we do know is that Jesus didn’t ask.  He offered the gifts he had, of healing, of time, of attention and care, to all of them despite knowing or not knowing whether or not they deserved it. 

I love this story of the Syrophoenician woman, even though it was a hard conversation, a painful conversation that he had with this woman.  I love it because it is through that conversation that we hear clearly that Jesus’ mission was now to everyone,  not just the Jews, and that the last “rank” -in this case the differences in religion, geography and even ethnicity, were destroyed.  They no longer applied.  “Rank” or “Caste” were thrown out.

In today’s passage from Isaiah we hear another passage of reversals.  “The eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf will be cleared.  The lame will leap like the deer, and the tongue of the speechless will sing.  Waters will spring up in the desert and streams in the wilderness.  The burning sand will become a pool, and the thirsty ground, fountains of water.”  Those things that are harmed or damaged will be healed.  And that expands beyond the physical.  Those who have been held down will be raised up, and those who have been ranked lower will be found to be equally respected and valued children of God. 

We are called to be part of this new ordering of our world.  We, too, are called to bring healing, reconciliation, and to do away with the rankings that separate us and which leave some better off than others.  So what does that look like for us? 

Well, what are your gifts?  What are your resources?  And to whom do you offer them?  If you have the gift of music, do you play for those who can’t afford the cost of a ticket to come see you perform?  If you have the gift of resources, do you share them, with those who are ranked as less, on the bottom according to society?  If you have the gift of healing, do you offer to heal even those who can’t pay the usual doctor’s fee?  The list goes on.  The confrontation to our own choices and behaviors goes on as well.

I have shared with you before that at another church where I served, our congregation had become very close to an unhoused man who at one point fell and was put in the hospital with serious damage.  We found that because he could not pay, most of the hospital staff ignored him unless church members were there to push for his care. 

In one of the congregations where I served I also remember a person who was very socially awkward being treated very subtly but consistently as a second class citizen.  He was ranked as “less than” and he was treated as “less than” by the other members of the congregation.

We are called to confront that kind of treatment and to remind the world that we are all loved children of God, none valued more than another despite the way we would treat and value people differently.

I am so grateful for this community of people who treat each other, despite our differences, as people deserving of respect and care.  I am so deeply appreciative of your kindness to one another, the respect you show one another.  We are called to continue that in every place that we go with everyone that we encounter.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

              

Allowing the unpleasant to have free rent in our heads.

        My spiritual director advised me to work against allowing unkind people to have free rent in my head.  I think we probably all struggle with this.  People who upset us, people who are cruel, people who do terrible things that affect us, those we love, or the world itself - these people are the ones we allow to wake us up in the night and prevent sleep from returning, these are the people we allow to cause us the stomach cramps that lead to ulcers, these are the ones we allow to cause us to move, or to quit jobs, to change careers, or to do something even worse.  

       But yes, I use the phrase "whom we allow..." with intention.  

        It doesn't feel that way, I know.  It feels like they have control in our brains, that their voices, their faces, their incomprehensible behaviors and their cruel choices prevent us from choosing anything other than being obsessed with what has been said, done, or is going to happen in the future.  How can we possibly do anything other than give them the free rent in our brains that their effects on our lives demand?  

       But I keep thinking about what I posted in September, 2015, and the reality that we are in so many ways closer to those we don't like or are struggling with or against than we are to our acquaintances and sometimes even those people we like or love.  If we are not working against this actively, if we are not choosing something different, our brains will focus, give time to, spend energy on the people with whom we are struggling much more than they will on the beautiful people in our lives, the gifts of the people in our lives, the kind and good things that have come and are coming our way daily.   And the question then is, how do we want to spend our time and energy?  On whom and on what do we want to dedicate our lives?  Do we want to spend the limited time we have here staying awake at night going over and over in our heads things we can do nothing about?  Do we want to allow our stomachs and bodies to be destroyed by the remembrances of cruelties and unkindnesses?  Or do we want to pass our time in gratitude and remembrances of the many wonderful good things that come our way each and every day?  Do we want to be awakened with thoughts of celebrations and warmth and good memories?

     I just downloaded through my Kindle Free Books a children's story called Some Days by Maria Wernicke.  It's a short picture book about a child who has lost her father and is grieving that.  She has moments when she feels the warmth of connection, of beauty with the world.  But other times she can't access those feelings and she is upset by that.  It's a story for children, but it, too, speaks to the truth for all of us that sometimes finding those peaceful places of remembrance are hard to do.  Perhaps it is harder for adults even than for kids.  Remembering that "this too shall pass" and that even in the dark times there are always sparks of light, gifts of caring, warm signs of a God who loves us more than we can imagine - remembering these things comes and goes, and when we are really struggling with something, these truths can be elusive.  Holding tight to the memories of the good and right in the world is hard.

    So, how do we do this?  How do we choose not to let the negative stay in our heads free of rent?  Having on hand a list of things for which we are grateful that we may choose to focus our attention on when the bad things come to mind is a start.  What blessings did I experience today?  For what am I grateful?  When the negative comes in at 2:00am, taking time to meditate or focus on the good can be very helpful.  If we still can't sleep, making a deliberate choice to get up, write a card of thanks, send an email, bake bread, sing a song: to create the good and focus on that creation of beauty instead.  These things take practice and intentionality, but I think they are important survival skills for all of us.

   I want to be clear that I am not advocating that we just let the world spin the way it will without taking action against injustices.  But I know for myself that if I am not centered, if I cannot find those gifts of peace and grace and gratitude daily, the actions I would normally take to fight injustice lack power, strength, grounding, conviction, and faith.  If I cannot remember the good, the efforts to work for justice for others also lack conviction - after all, if there is no good, what is the point in fighting for something better or different?  If I am unhealthy because of lack of sleep or a stomach tied in cramps, I become physically unable to do the work that must be done.  Remembering that we must put on our own oxygen masks in order to help those around us means doing the things necessary to sit in love, grace, and peace.  Remembering the joy, delighting in the good, even when things are hard, allows us the space to walk with truth and compassion.

    The goal then is to get to a place where we choose what takes up space in our minds and bodies, to intentionally decide what we will focus on at what time, to start with the good, and then move from a place of strength and love into facing the bad.  That's my work for today.  I offer it to you in the hopes that you also are working towards making good choices for yourselves as well.  Be at peace, friends.

Peace Talk for Brentwood Inspired Living Center

First of all, I want to thank Amy for inviting me to speak to you all today.  It is a real joy and privilege to be asked to talk about something that I think is so important for us, always, but perhaps especially in today’s world.  “Peace” is very elusive, especially during this time.  People are stressed because of the pandemic, social unrest, the weather, the smoke – days moved to weeks moved to months and now we’ve had a half year of “shelter in place” and “social distancing” and people are beginning to act out.  

I think about the post a friend of mine made on FB where he detailed waking up to find an intruder in his home.  The intruder grabbed a couple things and left.  No one was hurt, my friend was able to replace the missing items with fairly little trauma.  It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t scarring either.  Still, the responses that he received on FB were things like “You should have shot and killed that guy!  That would have taught him!”  And “Too bad you weren’t able to beat him up with a bat and permanently ruin his life!”  I was shocked by these responses, but probably shouldn’t have been.  We live in a culture where violence tends to escalate, and where people react with such intense anger that nothing short of death satisfies some people as the appropriate consequence for a stolen watch.  This is the world in which we dare to breathe words such as “peace”.  And that action of looking for and seeking peace is an act of courage in such a world.

The other day I was walking in a parking lot with my daughter at the grocery store (both of us with our masks on) and we were just about to get to the car to put in the groceries, when some rage-filled person started cursing and screaming at us.  I have no idea why.  I assumed at the time that it was because they wanted us to move more quickly to get our groceries in the car so they could have my spot, but, putting aside the fact that there were other open spaces, that just didn’t explain the rage that this person (who I had never seen before) was expressing.   Of course, the temptation for me then, as it often is for many of us I think, is to respond to that kind of anger with anger in return.  The temptation was to turn and yell back, to sarcastically critique his lack of vocabulary or to do something else that would have hurt him as much as he was upsetting me and my daughter.    

But in that moment, I found Martin Luther King Jr.’s comment rattling in my head when he said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”  The reality is we cannot get to peace, true peace, through anger, rage, hate or violence.  Those angry attacking responses leave people hurting, damaged, and that damage and hurt festers, and usually builds resentment and pain.  While violence may lead to a time of non-violence, there is a difference between peace and non-violence.  Peace is when people are okay within themselves and within their world.  Peace is when people see each other for the deeply connected siblings that we all are.  Peace is when we remember our deep connections to and within all creation.  Peace is when each person and each part of creation has enough, has what they need to live, to breathe, to survive.  That peace can never be full, real or profound when even one person is hurting.  

But responding to anger, violence or hatred with peace is hard.  So in that moment in the parking lot, I also found myself thinking about a Star Trek Next Generation episode in which all these different species are fighting to get this “thing” first, pieces of which have been planted into the different DNAs of different species across the galaxies.  Some species think what they will find when they solve the puzzle by putting all these pieces from their DNA together will be extreme wealth.  Others think it is massive power.  Some specifically think it is a powerful weapon.  All think that they better get it first and they are willing to kill one another to get it. They need each other’s piece of the puzzle to find whatever it is however, so they are all at the final place together; all gathered with their weapons out, preparing to fight to get it and claim it first for their people, their world, their community.  When they finally gather everything together, what they have been given is a message about how important it is to work together and find peace together in order for all to live.  The hologram that is produced by their DNA puzzle pieces gives the message that within each of them is a piece of one another, that they are literally within as well as among one another, and that it is only together they are whole.  But once they hear the message of peace and deep connection to one another, they respond by still trying to fight each other.  “We cannot possibly have anything in common,” one declares in rage, and “I would have killed her if she were alive” another says in response to the Hologram’s message.  They are so caught up in their anger that they cannot hear or see, and peace remains a distant, elusive dream for them all.  

     In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Gandalf said, “Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check.  But that is not what I have found.  I have found that it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.  Small acts of kindness and love.” 

     As we seek to be people of peace, we have to start with the small, with the ordinary, with the opportunities we have to meet hatred and anger with kindness, compassion, and peace.    I thought about one of my heroes in life, Rev. Ben Weir.  He was a Presbyterian pastor who was working in Lebanon when he was kidnapped and held hostage.  He was held for 16 months as a hostage.  But after his experience, he did not come home seeking revenge, seeking the destruction of those who had kidnapped him.  Instead, he remained a voice for peace, for non-violent resolutions to problems.  I personally knew the man and he was, until the end, the most compassionate, sweetest man I have ever met.   

     There is a wonderful book titled “Tattoos of the Heart” written by Father Gregory Boyle.  He is a priest who works with gangs in LA, giving them work, jobs, a sense of belonging to something and to people who do not require violence or aggression as part of their membership rituals.  He writes about his experiences with these boys, these men, these families.  But his book begins with these words, “If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.  William Blake wrote, ‘We are put on earth for a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.’ Turns out this is what we all have in common, gang member and nongang member alike: we’re just trying to learn how to bear the beams of love.” (pxiii).

     The idea of Ubuntu is that “a person becomes a person through other people” – we are deeply and completely connected to one another.  When I am injuring you, it is me, myself who is damaged in the process.  And when I am kind to you, I am offering that kindness to myself as well.  

     These ideas are the foundation of peace: the recognition of our interdependence, our interconnection, with all people, but more, with all of life.  

     All of these examples and thoughts flashed through my head in response to the man screaming at me at the parking lot.  And I made the decision in that moment to do other than I wanted to do.  I chose then to wave, to smile (though I’m sure he could not see that behind my mask), and to quickly get my groceries into the car so that he could have the spot.  Fortunately, the space across from me was empty so I pulled forward and out of the spot.  I saw that he did not take the spot, but continued to shriek at me and even follow me out of the parking lot.  I still have not one clue about why.  I asked my daughter who was with me if she could see why he was so angry, but she said "no", and finally we were able to pull away from the man and to drive home.  I acted the way I wanted to act.  I did not give him power to change my behavior from the peace I wanted to communicate and exude.  I did not give him the ability to make me angry or hateful or destructive.  I acted with the peace and compassion I choose to demonstrate.  But I have to admit, I did not feel peace after that interaction.  I was shaking with fear, with anger, with visions of yelling back, or calling the police or something else.  I felt torn up inside by a person I don't know, will never meet, who was just... ANGRY.  It didn't make me feel better to act with kindness.  It did not make me feel better to be kind in the face of that kind of anger/hate.  But it didn't make me feel worse either.  If I'd acted in anger, I would have felt more angry.  If I'd chosen rage, I probably would have felt guilt on top of everything else, if only for giving that example to my daughter.  Instead, after a few minutes had passed, I felt a bit of triumph that I had not allowed myself to be controlled or changed by his behavior.  And my soul moved to a place of acceptance, wondering what that man was suffering with, and peace within myself much more quickly than it would have done if I had acted in any other way.  

     There is a saying in many 12 step programs which is "Act as If."  The theory behind it is that you act your way into being someone else.  Act as if you are a peaceful person and you will become one. Act as if you are no longer angry and you will stop being angry.  Act happy and calm and confident and those feelings and attributes will follow.  That is my choice for now.  I don't know that it will always work.  I don't know that I can always think of the kind way to respond in the face of anger or hate.  But I can try.   And perhaps in trying, I will become more the person of peace that I want to be.

I may not change the world.  I may make no difference at all in the scheme of things.  But I also will not let the world make me more angry, hateful or fearful.  I don't choose that, for myself or for those around me who are affected by my behavior.  For today, I hope that is enough.  

Peace is elusive in this time.  But it must start and end with each one of us choosing to be beacons, voices, examples of the peace we hope to find.  We create the world around us one word, one act, one choice at a time.  For today, let that choice be for peace.

Fair

 Genesis 15:1-6, Luke 3:8, Matthew 20:1-16

You know the story.  The owner hires different workers at different times.  That means the workers work different amounts.  Yet, at the end of the day, each worker is paid the same amount.  And the laborers are upset about this.  They feel this is unjust.   They feel that those who have worked for longer should be paid more.  And they are angry.

We can relate to this right?  We want life to be fair, we struggle when it isn’t.  And, as people who have control sometimes over what others have or received, I think we spend a lot of time trying to figure out what is fair.  As parents, grandparents, and guardians, especially, we work to be fair.  To use some less serious examples: In our family, for example, Eldest got to go out with her grandparents for “special birthday time” starting when she turned 5 or six.  The grandparents felt that it wasn’t “fair” for the younger kids to get to go out that young so they made the decision to wait until each child turned 5 or 6 to have that “special time” with the grandparents.  Does this seem fair?  Well, from a different perspective, the grandparents aren’t going to be able to take the kids out forever and each child should have the same amount of time with them, so perhaps it is more fair if each child should start at the same time being able to have that special time with their grandparents.  Even with simple things, what is “fair” can be complicated.

Another less serious scenario – when I was growing up, the older child always got a bigger piece of pie or cake or whatever because they were “bigger” and needed more.  Does this seem fair?  With my own kids, it is my youngest child who needs the most calories and who eats the most despite being unusually skinny.  How do we define fair?

When we lived in San Leandro, Eldest went to Head Royce, a private school.  It was an amazing school that gave her basically a free ride.  They were committed to diversity, to taking care of others and the planet.  Part of their curriculum required each child to do some kind of community service, and they taught important values about caring for the world.  However, most of the kids who attended this school were filthy rich.  While Eldest got a free ride, fifteen years ago the tuition per child for kindergarten alone was $24,000 a year.  And while they taught great values, one day Eldest came home and said, “Why don’t we have a play castle in our back yard?  Why don’t I have my own pony?  Why don’t I have my own bedroom?  Why didn’t we go skiing in France for our winter vacation?”  It didn’t matter what the values were that were being taught.  She was put in a situation where those she compared herself to made her feel poor, made her feel that life was unfair in the way that told her that she didn’t have enough, didn’t have as much.  She could have compared herself to those in our community who lived on the street.  What I wanted for her was for her to realize our many, many blessing and riches and to realize that because of our blessings we have a great responsibility to care for those around us, to be as generous with others as God is with us.  But instead, she had the experience of being in a place where she was the “poorest” and she left that feeling that her life was “unfair.”

But it’s not just children who experience that.  I remember talking with a person who was a choir director at a large church during the time when I was the Associate pastor of music and family ministries at Bethel.  He was sharing with me about the Associate pastor at the church where he was working complaining because she was being paid about 3/5 of what the senior pastor was being paid though she believed she was working much harder than he was.  She was upset, but this choir director with whom I was speaking was even more upset because he said while she was complaining to him about her salary being much less than the senior pastor, her salary was much MORE than the choir director’s salary.  And as I listened to him I realized that I was also feeling that it was unfair because I was working for a small, poorer congregation at the time that was paying ME much less than HE was making though I was not only the choir director, but the pianist, and the Associate Pastor in charge of all the education and family programs, as well as music programs at my church.  Levels and levels of people feeling that life was unfair, unjust. 

               I think about the times when people have offered us grace: like the time I was pulled over for running a light that changed just as I entered the intersection, but was let off with a warning rather than being given a ticket.  I normally forget about that grace that I was offered, though, when I see people speeding in their cars and find myself wishing that they would get pulled over.  I find I can make assumptions about who they are, what their motives are.  I fail to see with God’s eyes, eyes of compassion and understanding and insight in those moments.  I want “justice” for others, by which I usually mean them having to pay, and grace for myself.  I don’t think I’m alone in this.

A more serious example: How many of you have seen the movie, “the Gods Must be Crazy”?  In it there is a native group of bush people who are filmed and who act in the film.  After the film was made, an article was written by an anthropologist who had lived and worked with the bush people about the devastation that the filming had created for this bush tribe.  There are rules, good rules, mostly that require that when anyone does work, he or she is paid for it.  If a person isn’t paid, it is a kind of exploitation.  But what happened in this particular case was that not everyone in the tribe was in the film.  So before the film was made, everyone in the tribe had the exact same amount; everything was shared, everything was in common.  It was very little, people had almost no material possessions before this film was made.  But still, all the people in the tribe felt grateful, felt rich, felt they had more than enough.  But then the filming crew paid some of the tribe members for their participation in the film.  In so doing, they introduced inequity into the tribe.  And that inequity led to a sense of unfairness on the part of those who weren’t paid.  Now some had things that were just theirs, and others were lacking in those things.  People began to feel poor, and eventually the tribe began to fight within itself and the tribal culture for this one group at least, was utterly destroyed.  Ironically, the film that destroyed them included a story line that told its own story about this very inequity and about the dangers of “things” being introduced into these cultures.

To take this to a more serious level, we tend to say that it is unfair when people are getting unemployment.  Even though the amount of money most people get through unemployment is not living wages, we still feel it is somehow “unfair” if they have not worked for that money, have not earned it.  We get so upset we call them names, “welfare moms”, being one example.

               The truth is from a personal perspective, in our definition of justice, nothing is EVER fair.  When we fail to understand or have compassion or care for others, when we can only see from our own desires for more, from our greed, then nothing is ever fair.  We don’t get what we think we deserve.  Others seem to get more than we think they deserve. 

But what I call us all to focus on today is the end of today’s parable, which reads, “‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you.  Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

               The amount that each person was paid, a denarius, was basically just enough to feed one’s family for that day.  Each person was given what they needed.  It is not about “deservingness”. It is about what is needed.  This is a story about God’s justice which, once again, does not care about what a person has earned, does not care about how hard you’ve worked or how deserving you are or even WHO you are.  God’s justice is about each person having enough.  “Justice” or “fairness” is based on sufficiency of need, not all the things that we would say it’s based on.

               The truth is that in our world God has given us enough.  As a world, we have enough for every person, EVERY single person, to have what they need.  But because of greed, some people have much, much more than they need which means there are others who do not have enough.  Let me be very clear:  It is completely anti-God, immoral, unethical to have more than we need when other people are starving to death.  There just isn’t another way to say that.  But because we know that some take more than they need, that as a result there are others who do not have enough, we become fearful people and we worry and fret about what is “fair” out of fear that we will not have enough, or we will not have what we want, or we will not have what we believe we deserve more than others.  We have a mindset of scarcity.  But again, this leads to unkind and unbiblical behavior. As a result of that mindset, we begrudge people even enough to feed their families, as the workers in today’s story did.  They were not given less because others were given enough to eat for the day.  And yet they still were grumbling, still begrudged the fact that others were given enough for the day.  And that begrudging of others having enough to live another day – that is sin.

               This ties directly into the biblical story of Manna in the wilderness.  As Exodus 16:4- 8 says: Then the Lord said to Moses, “I’m going to make bread rain down from the sky for you. The people will go out each day and gather just enough for that day. In this way, I’ll test them to see whether or not they follow my Instruction.   On the sixth day, when they measure out what they have collected, it will be twice as much as they collected on other days.”  We know this story.  The people in the wilderness did not have enough.  So God provided for them.  But what God provided was just enough for that day.  If they took more than they needed, it would spoil.  When we take more than we need, it spoils our hearts, it spoils our knowledge of our connections to one another, to all things, it spoils our sense of the brother and sisterhood of all life.  Exodus continues, “Moses said to them, “This is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.  This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Collect as much of it as each of you can eat, one omer per person. You may collect for the number of people in your household.’ The Israelites did as Moses said, some collecting more, some less. But when they measured it out by the omer, the ones who had collected more had nothing left over, and the ones who had collected less had no shortage. Everyone collected just as much as they could eat.  Moses said to them, “Don’t keep any of it until morning.”  But they didn’t listen to Moses. Some kept part of it until morning, but it became infested with worms and stank. Moses got angry with them.  Every morning they gathered it, as much as each person could eat. But when the sun grew hot, it melted away.”  This, too, shows the justice of God.  A justice that is based solely on what people need, without any reference to what people “deserve.”

               We also see this in the Old Testament commandment to leave enough in our fields for the poor to glean.  People were required by biblical law to leave enough produce for those who could not buy food to be able to eat each day.  It is biblical law.  As Deuteronomy 24:19 says: “Whenever you are reaping the harvest of your field, leave some grain in the field. Do not go back and get it. Let it go to the immigrants, the orphans, and the widows so that the Lord your God blesses you in all that you do.”

               As Rev. Sandhya Jha, the director of the Peace Center said it, “What we see in this story is a redefinition of justice.  Typically, we define justice as ‘what someone deserves’ based on their actions or particular qualities….But in this story, the landowner redefines justice to mean a state in which everyone receives what is fitting to a laborer, regardless of their specific actions as a laborer.  This is a radically different notion of justice form our common usage.  The question of deservingness is separated from action, or personal qualities, and instead centers on identity.  This means that all people, as children of God, are equally deserving of the fruits of labor.  In other words, it is a metaphor for God’s justice, which is a justice that gives freely to the measure that is sufficient to the needs of the person….justice or what is right is that status in which needs are met for all people equally….On God’s terms of justice, giving more to some and less to others based on merits is not right.”

What does this mean for us?  Well, first, we have a choice about how we look at life.  Do we focus on what is unfair?  It is unfair when we work hard for little while others don’t work at all and are given much.  It is unfair that we have to struggle with this challenge or that challenge while others seem to have charmed lives.  It is unfair that we do our best and still go through painful situations.  Life is unfair.  Or we can look at the many blessings that fill our lives:  Each of us seeing this, reading this, has more than enough to eat.  Each of us has a bed to sleep in.  We each have family and friends and a church that loves us and supports us.  We have educations and vacations and toys for all ages.  Our lives are filled with blessings and we can choose to focus on them and be grateful for God’s generosity to each one of us.  We have much more than we need, after all. 

               But more deeply than that, God’s definition of justice does not take into account what people deserve and instead focuses solely on what people need.  That is so hard for us to grasp, so hard for us to take in.  But Jesus presents this definition of justice to us and expects us to also stand up for this justice, this image of what it is to be just.  We are called not to award and discriminate based on what people “deserve” (and again for each of us what someone deserves will be different), but instead to care for and love all people, working hard to make sure they all have what they need.  That is a justice that leads to peace.  When people have what they need, there is room for peace, there is room for living.

               I know this is a really hard concept.  So I want to say it once more.  What scripture shows us is God’s definition of justice is about giving everyone what they need.  It is NOT about what people deserve.  EVER.  And we are called to strive for that same understanding of justice.  I again, understand that this is hard.  The good news in this is that God’s love for each of us is that we will have enough.  And if we work for a world in which everyone has enough, all of us will be richer for it.  God’s love is bigger than we can imagine.  And we are extensions of that love to one another.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Struggles with the World

        I have to say that I am disappointed in my world.  The older I get, the more I live through, the more this is true.  Disappointed, by the way, is a very understated word in this case. It pains me, it devastates me, to see the ways people justify destroying the earth, brutalize people of color, refuse to help refugees, don't hesitate to increase the divide between the rich and the poor by giving more and more to those who already are rich and taking away from the poor, the underprivileged and the oppressed even the little that they have.  The more I see, the more I have come to believe that there really are people who choose evil in this world: they choose to "otherize" anyone who does not look like them or have the same wealth, power or general life situation as them: they "otherize", then villainize, then work to actively oppress, injure, destroy and damage anything that gets in the way of them acquiring more money and more power for themselves.  I've spent years trying to understand the fear that could cause this kind of behavior, and I have no doubt that I will continue to try to understand it.  But as I read in one of my study leave books this week, "it is problematic to refuse to see willful intent to commit evil." (p73 of Sustaining Hope in An Unjust World by Timothy Charles Murphy. MA: Chalice Press, 2019).  I don't like to see it that way.  But as I read his arguments, I had to agree.  There is evil here: intentionality in harming the earth and other people to obtain what a person wants for themself.  The author goes on to say, "progressives have the bias that education will solve most problems," and I admit that I, too, have had this bias.  I have mistakenly assumed that people are cruel and do horrible things to others because they just don't understand.  And I've had to come to a new awareness that many do understand. And are choosing to do harm, because it serves them.  That awareness is devastating to me.  I don't understand it.  I can't comprehend it.  But I am having to accept it.
       I have to admit that those moments of acceptance of this reality often lead me to a place of abject despair, in which I see the upcoming destruction of our planet (probably through climate change, and probably much sooner than many imagine) as the natural and logical consequential ending for a species that has, itself, become a virus: one that feeds off of the earth, other creatures and even other people by destroying them.  In those moments of despair I think "Well, we deserve this.  Maybe once we've wiped ourselves out the earth can begin to heal."  But then I look at my children, and I hear the birds, and I see pictures of elephants and forests and I cannot bear the thought of all of them being wiped out because of our selfishness and greed.
        More, I have come to realize that the choice to NOT act, the choice to just sit and do nothing while the earth spins out of control; this is a choice that comes from a place of privilege.  Black people do not have the choice to avoid involvement when their families, their friends, their communities are being slaughtered in this country.  Those who are already being devastated by climate change were not given the choice to avoid being devastated by the climate chaos. Those who are refugees escaping deadly home situations do not have a choice about being affected by policies that refuse to grant them safe spaces to live and raise their children.  And the list goes on.
       So, in spite of my devastation, in spite of my sense of despair, in spite of the grief that I feel on a daily basis now for my image of what our world could be, should be, would be, I have to choose to act on behalf of the "least of these" to the best of my ability, to stand with the disenfranchised, exploited, oppressed and poor, no matter what the cost to my personal life.  As a post I saw recently said, "Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are."  Because I believe deeply that we are all connected, that when you hurt, I am hurting too (whether I know it or not!), in some ways I think this comment is inaccurate.  So perhaps, I would say it this way, "Justice will not be served until those who are oblivious to their own personal damage at the hands of the injustice are as outraged as those who are obviously and outwardly devastated by the injustice."  Either way, I feel called to action.  And I hope that you will join me.

The Future: Good or Bad?

Isaiah 65: 17-25

Luke 21:5-19

Today we read two different passages talking about the future for the faithful.  What happened in the first passage from Isaiah?  The Isaiah passage describes a glorious future - creation of a new heaven and a new earth.

No more weeping.                               

No more infants dying after a few days.                                       

People living to be a hundred on a regular basis.

People living in the houses they build - (no foreclosures?)

People eating the fruit of their vineyards.

They will survive and enjoy their work.

Their children will do well.

Wolf and lamb will eat together - and the lion will eat straw now: no more stalking prey.

Serpent still cursed (eating dust) but no hurting or killing.

The Luke passage is also talking about the future but what does it say? 

The temple will not stand: those beautiful things built as an offering to God will be destroyed.

Wars, insurrections.

Nation rising against nation,

kingdom against kingdom,

earthquakes, famines, plagues

dreadful portents and great signs.

And before this...you will be arrested, persecuted,

handed over to synagogues and prisons, brought before kings and governors.

Betrayed even by parents, siblings, relatives and friends.

You will be hated.

But.... your soul will be saved.

Two very different versions of what the future looks like.  Why do you think these descriptions are so different?

They were written at different times to different groups of people and reflecting on different events. The passage from Isaiah was written to a group of people who were exiled and to whom Isaiah is declaring that once the injustices have been punished, once the pain they have reaped upon themselves is done, once Israel has repented, arrogance and hypocrisy confronted, and Israel has been cleansed and made new, THEN a new day will dawn, a day of life, a day of hope, a day in which the damaged relationship with God caused by the corruption of human hearts will be bridged by God God-self, made whole once again, made new, and made beautiful.  This is the promise of comfort after the fall, after all that we have done and failed to do, it is the promise of redemption, of grace, and new life, given to a displaced and suffering people.  God has not left them, they are still God’s people, and God will make everything right again.

The passage from Luke, was also written to a suffering people at a time of pain and persecution. But the strategy of Luke here, also wanting to offer comfort, is very different.  Luke has Jesus foreseeing their suffering and declaring that it is not meaningless.  Those Christians suffering persecution after Jesus’ death needed to know that their dedication and commitment to Christ in the face of pain, loss and even death was purposeful and powerful and important.  Their comfort then comes in a different form. Unlike Isaiah’s promise which is of a better life on earth for the faithful and their children, this is instead a promise that their current pain has deep and everlasting meaning, that God has not abandoned them but is with them to the end.  There is the promise of future relief here too, but it has more to do with the immortal soul and less to do with relief from the physical struggles of life.

While appearing to offer very different images of the future, both of these passages are seeking to offer the promise of God’s presence, God’s comfort, and new life.  Both passages are also offering a deep challenge....As commentator R. Alan Culpepper states “in every generation there are those whose religion is simply a form of escapism into the fantasy of futurism, every generation has also had its courageous and prophetic visionaries who devoted themselves completely to Jesus’ call to create community, oppose injustice, work for peace, and make a place for the excluded.  Every generation, therefore, is called back to the teachings of Jesus by the examples of those who have suffered persecution and hardship because they dared to strive to live

out Jesus’ call for a community that transcends social barriers, that cares for its least privileged, and that confronts abuses of power and wealth....(the Luke passage) calls for such a commitment in life that those who dare to embrace it will find themselves persecuted by authorities.”  We know this is true.  Who are the martyrs of our time?  Who are the people in our lifetimes who have really stood up to injustice, really made a stand for others to lead better, more full, more fair, equitable, humane lives?  Not all have been martyred, but many have.  Rosa Parks.  Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. 

Both of these passages are addressing the need to act for justice, despite all costs.  The entire book of Isaiah offers the challenge to the elite of Israel to stop using and abusing the less well off: to seek justice, knowing that if they don’t everything they have taken will be taken from them, and that if they do, if they repent, if they work for justice, then they will find new life far better than the one they are abusing others to get.  The challenge for those hearing the Luke passage is to walk firmly in the footsteps of Christ, again working to conquer injustice, working for a better world for all, knowing that the cost may be persecution, but that the gain is your very soul. 

Where are we in this?  As Culpepper said it, too many Christians come to church looking solely for the comfort - or as he said - the escape.  How many of you have heard people pray something along the lines of “as we come to this place, let us leave our troubles behind us, let us forget about our worries, let us be relieved of our burdens.”  I’ll own it, I’ve prayed similar things.  It’s present in some of our music, too.  There is a lovely song in our hymnals,  “you are my hiding place.”  But that very line is an example of this escape theology.  “You are my hiding place.”  Is God supposed to be a hiding place?  A place where we HIDE from the world and our problems?  Is our faith about escaping our difficulties?  Because we are called to exactly the opposite.  We are called to stand up to injustice - to be so much a part of making this world a better place for others that we risk persecution, even death.  Our faith if anything should throw us into danger, not pull us into a “safe” hiding place.

Instead of praying to be relieved of our burdens, we need to pray for strength, wisdom and courage to face them.  Instead of a hiding place, maybe we need to pray for places of peace where we can be renewed to face the battle of life again.  Instead of escaping into God, we need to ask God’s guidance for ways in which we can bring God’s kingdom to earth, making it a safe place for all people, making it a just place for all people, making it a good and Godly place for all people.

How do we do this?  By confronting whatever injustices and barriers come before us.  Sometimes this happens in large ways.  My study leave this year involved going to Alabama and learning more about the Civil Rights movement.  It was unbelievable to me how many people risked and lost their lives to stand up for African Americans to have the vote, to be allowed to sit anywhere on the bus, to be able to attend the same schools with the same quality of education that white children were given.  People who simply walked across a bridge who were beaten and killed.  People who simply stood near a school who had fire hoses and dogs set on them.  People who said, “no more” and stood up against injustice.  Again, during this season of voting, I think about the women who also stood up, demanding their right to vote.

As you know, Jack, for example, went down for many years to the US/Mexico border in AZ with a group of Christians who, despite differing political beliefs about immigration issues and laws none the less felt called as “neighbors” to help the large number of people - children, youth, adults of all ages, who die crossing the border because of dehydration.  They went to the border during the hottest weeks of the summer and simply set up a camp to provide water for those who otherwise would die in the heat.  They did nothing else.  They did not “aid” those trying to get into the country, nor did they turn them in.  But they saved lives by being present, being loving, providing water.  And while they were “persecuted” - harassed by the border patrol, threatened with arrest and worse, they stood in their faith and in their belief that we are called to love all people, to care for all people: in doing so they stood up for their faith. 

The ways in which we stand in our faith do not have to be so dramatic.  Serving food, providing shelter at the Winter’s Nights or Loaves and Fishes programs.  Recycling and composting so we are not contributing as much to the earth’s destruction.  Voting in ways that work to end homelessness and poverty in this country and others.  Being present at vigils, protests, assemblies: standing up for what we believe, but more, standing up for God’s people who do not have voices in the ways that we do....we are called to do that, to be part of that in every way that we can, with every opportunity that presents itself to us.

Is there comfort here?  Of course.  Both today’s passages were offering comfort though in different ways.  The Isaiah passage reminds us that God is by our side and that the other side to hard times is a life of renewal and refreshment - following the repentance and the work towards wholeness.  The Luke passage reminds us that when we do struggle for others, in the name of God, in the name of Jesus, in the name of love for neighbor and enemy alike, that we gain our very souls.  It is in this that our lives have meaning.  It is in this that we find real love.  It is in this that we meet God.  Amen.

What I would want if I were King.

           I don't know what happens after we die.  I've said this before.  My faith is not about "heaven insurance" and I don't find much in scripture, certainly nothing Jesus says, that I think gives any kind of actual clear image concerning an afterlife.  From a scientific perspective, nothing is created or lost: so my inclination is to believe the same is true of "souls," whatever that may be: and so I tend to think there is some kind of continuance.  But I won't try to imagine what that is for you or for me.
          That being said, I know what I'd like heaven to be... or afterlife, or whatever you want to call it.  While I'm not really a vengeful person, while I don't believe in violence as a solution or revenge scenarios, while I don't even think our retributive justice system with its "punishment" philosophy actually improves anything or makes people "learn their lessons" or even inhibits others from misbehaving, while I cannot accept that "an eye for an eye" is in any way a good idea (and as we know it certainly isn't a Godly one, as Jesus said again and again), there is a part of me that dreams of heaven as a place where people finally see what their actions have done.  I want people, especially those in power, to really understand and see at a deep level how self-serving and therefore how dreadfully attacking, unkind and abusive their decisions have been.  I want them to see that those they have vilified are in fact their brothers and sisters, people like themselves, who are equally loved, valued and cherished by God.  I want them to understand that to be unkind, to restrict access to needed things, good things, life-giving things for anyone is to injure everyone, including themselves.  I want everyone to have the eyes of God who loves us all with a ferocity that defies every way in which we see the world.  I want us to finally and fully comprehend that denying others a safe place to live, enough to eat, good education and health care, community, connection, compassion - is to be cruel and restrictive to God-self; that to build walls that keep others out is to separate ourselves from God in those other people, and to look with eyes of hate on anyone else is to hate God.  I want people to get that when we use and abuse the earth, we are using and abusing our mother, our creator, our core, our ultimate being.  And I want people to fully comprehend, from a deep place, that nothing that we have is "ours" - all of it is put in our stewardship to use for the good of all creation.  This is what I want.  I want this so badly that I lie awake at night envisioning the conversations between God and those who abuse their power and in the process end up killing and destroying people and the earth.  I don't want suffering: I imagine a God who is so full of compassion that She/He/They understand exactly why another can't see in this life-time.  My God has grace and love even for those who have harmed others.  But I do want everyone to see, to know, to have clarity around the choices they've made that have harmed and hurt.  That is my idea of "heaven" - a place of ultimate accountability in the sense of facing the vilification of others, the unjust fears that cause us to act without compassion or love in any situation and which continue to cause rifts that divide, destroy and will ultimately end life on this planet in one way or another.  I want people to see.  And I want it with every atom in my body.
            But the other day, my thinking around this moved a bit.  I believe deeply that God has given each of us free will.  I believe we are called to be in genuine relationship with God, and that means God will not, indeed cannot, control our thinking, control our actions, control what we see or fail to see, what we choose to believe or fail to believe.  I believe that God has given us this free will because God wants genuine relationships with us.  If our thinking/feeling/understanding is controlled by God, then the relationship is not genuine.  Instead we are puppets, controlled and manipulated and played.  I don't experience God this way.  Instead, I experience a God who really cares about each of us as we are, and who wants to know us as the people we choose to be.  I believe that is what the story about Adam and Eve is about: the choice that they made in the story to go against the wishes of God, while not what God desired, was none the less a choice they were given to make.  We continue to have the choice of exercising that free will.
          It suddenly occurred to me that this is a free will given for all time.  God always chooses relationship: that is the nature of God.  And that means we always have free will.  Therefore, even when the truth is right in front of us (and isn't that the case now?) some people can still choose not to see it, not to embrace it, not to accept it, and not to have it influence them.  It doesn't matter if it is in this life or in an afterlife.  This remains true.  This WILL remain true.
         I hate this.
         The visions or daydreams I have had about days of reckoning, especially for our leaders, suddenly expanded to hearing their response when faced with truth.
         God, "Do you see?  These people you are keeping 'out' - they are your brothers and sisters seeking asylum, seeking safety and life for their children.  They should be embraced, and helped, and healed."
        National leader: "No!  They are a threat."
        God: "They are not a threat.  They work hard, they struggle to survive.  They can expand and deepen your life.  Just like you (indeed for they ARE you, as we are all one another, all connected), they are simply trying to do the best for their children. They are my children too and I call you to love them as you love yourself.  Think of what they go through to try to get here.  They don't do this because they are fine where they are.  They are doing it to try to live, to try to create a life for their kids that is safe."
        NL: "No!  I hate them.  I don't want them.  They are not my brothers and sisters. They are trying to take what is MINE. I do not want them here.  They will change my world and I don't want my world changed."
        God: "It is not yours.  It's all mine, put into your hands to share for the good of all."
       NL:  "No.  I made this happen.  This is mine.  I worked for this.  Or you gave it to me for my own use because I am better.  I deserve this.  I will not share.  I will protect what is mine at whatever cost to anyone else."
        God: "Even at the cost to your children and grandchildren?  What you are doing is destroying the earth."
       NL: "No.  It's not my fault and it's not my responsibility."
        And so the conversation continued...
        Every day I am broken hearted by what I see.  Every day I am astounded that anyone could ever think that the separating of children from parents, that the killing of children by neglect and dehydration, that the hatred we send to people of different colors, backgrounds, languages, faith traditions, sexual orientations and places of birth... that we could ever think any of that is somehow okay with God.  Every day I weep from what I witness and strive to find a way to walk differently in a world that is increasingly accepting of hate, division and apathy towards others.  Each summer I am more and more frightened by the changes I experience in the climate, in our environment, in our world and I struggle to understand why some people continue to bury their heads in the sand and to live in such fear of the truth that they deny it altogether.  I want that to change.  I am aware that I am not doing enough to make the changes.  And yet I do not see the way forward into change.  I do not know what I am to do except to continue to speak, to learn as much as I can, and to share both what I know and what I experience, both as a human and as a person of faith.
         But this week I have had to give up on my own "revenge fantasies" of people simply seeing truth.  I have had to give that up as I've come to realize that those who do not want to see won't.  And those unable to self-reflect won't.  And those who do not want to own our part in the suffering of the world and our responsibility to help and to heal, will continue to grab what they can for themselves and will not see the bigger picture of our connection to everyone else and our need to care for them as if they were our own, because they are.  We belong to one another.  If we don't all work together, we will all perish together.  But I came to realize at a deeper level that this is the path that we are on...
        And my heart aches, and I weep.
        I am weary with the efforts, and I have had to let go of much of the hope...

        And then, after writing the above, I talked to my eldest daughter.  She struggles too.  She is my daughter in many senses of the word, and one of those has to do with her level of grief when she loses those she loves, and the depth of her anxiety when she faces change.  This, my girl, who struggles in many ways more than I ever have; who is afraid to return to school, afraid to see those places where friends she loved who have now graduated once walked, afraid to step forward into the new - I spoke with her.  I shared with her some of my fears and my concerns.  And in that place of pain and struggle, she still had the ability to say to me, "No one is beyond redemption.  We all learn and see and hear in different ways.  Different things cause us to grow and learn and move.  But God knows us fully.  And God knows what will help us to see.  We will all see.  All of us.  Including you and I: we will see our blind spots too.  And we will be shown those with grace and compassion and in the way that we can best hear and see.  There is hope.  Maybe not in this life, but there is hope."
        And so I wept again: this time with gratitude for my girl, for her vision, for her love, for her wisdom.  I saw with new eyes.  And what I saw was very good.