This is Who we Are.......November 10, 2024

Beloved: Maybe like me, you are struggling right now. Maybe not. While I am not surprised by what has unfolded this past week in our country,  I am deeply saddened that so many of our sibling citizens see and understand our nation so differently than how I interpret and understand the Gospel, and therefore, how I understand who we are meant to be as a nation.  I think we have very difficult times ahead of us because the division is deep and wide.  

An election is an apocalypse of sorts—an unveiling of the state of a nation. I have heard many citizens say that: “this is not who we are.”  Beloved, as a collective, this is who we are. It will not help us to turn away from this truth. Yes, we can lament the truth; lamenting is part of the grief process, but let us not stay in lament for too long. 

​What do we do now? Leave?  Maybe. Some may do that very thing—hopefully finding safety and creating sanctuaries beyond our borders—but most of us do not have that as an option.
Most of us have been called to remain and resist. Resist the division. Resist the movement toward dehumanizing and subordinating groups of people. Groups of people that include women—particularly women of color. And all people of color. Our siblings in the LGBTQ community. The Disabled. Many of us are called to remain so that our presence – our words, choices, actions and investments – will act as subversive resistance. Disrupting and turning the tables that seek to exploit the vulnerable in order to make the weak look strong. 

Like these women in today’s Word. They gave all that they had for the sake of others. Literally. Probably like most of her neighbors in the story from 1st Kings, this woman, this widow, and her son have been devastated by the country’s drought. Using her last measure of flour to make bread, this woman, this widow had been preparing their last supper. But God’s prophet comes along, this foreigner from another land, and asked her to share. To share from her paucity, not her abundance. And she did. She made bread for another - a stranger, an alien, in fact. She didn’t offer her leftovers; she gave her only. Her very last resources. And today’s Word tells us that because she trusted the word of God that she was hearing (even though she wasn’t an Israelite, a believer, herself), because she was grounded in hospitality as an absolute for her life, she did the unthinkable, the unreasonable, an act that may have been seen as foolhardy by those who think only of themselves: she gave the last of what she had, all that she had—and this generosity, this selflessness,  changed everything. This act of love, of compassion, hospitality and radical generosity literally brought prosperity to her and her son. Their lives changed from near death to full life.

And then there’s this other radical woman in the Gospel, too “woke” for her own good.  Even though it seemed to make no sense for her own wellness, she followed the communal regulations and gave her last pennies—all that she had—trusting that this communal act of giving alms would also provide for her sustenance. We do not know what happened in her life next, but we do know that the Christ holds up her action to  us as the ideal of how we should all live: giving all that we have for the communal good. Trusting that this way of collective giving, living and loving is what restores us all to wholeness.
Here is the Gospel, the Holy Truths, we hear in today’s stories: 

• Only a life given away for love’s sake is a life worth living.
• Acts of love are the only thing that changes the world.
• Women have the power to effect profound goodness and change.
• Communities of love are the solution.

And Beloved, right now in this perilous time, we are called to live these truths out deliberately and intentionally.  Let’s talk specifics:

1. Let us take seriously this call to regularly gather in community so that we might provide space and time for folx to be restored and re-centered in Love. Any folx, all folx, us folx. This must be a priority for us.
2. Let us be vigilant about caring for those who are most vulnerable. We can be sanctuary for those whose lives have been imperiled by the rhetoric and proposals made by those who have just been elected. As a community of love, we are obligated to be vigilant for the exploited and vulnerable, the marginalized and outcast, and to offer them sanctuary and aid. 
3. Let us listen. Beloved: while I am not surprised by the election, I am still dumbfounded by it. This means I do not understand many of my neighbors. We need to find and create safe and meaningful ways to listen and hear what has brought us to where we are; why my neighbors voted in a way I cannot fathom. I think this can only be done one-by-one or in smaller conversations. We do not understand one another; we have completely different narratives of our shared nation. We must address this devastating gap in our nation’s character and reality instead of simply trying to triumph over each other.
4. For us to be able to do this listening, to take the risk of helping those whose rights are threatened, we will need to be empowered and equipped—trained to do this breach-repairing work. This Way of Love, this life of discipleship, must be seen and understood as our training ground. If you have ever wondered, why Church? Beloved….this is why.
5. Like the women in today’s Word, we are going to need to grow generous hearts—radically generous hearts. Our wealth is not our own. Our wealth—of time, of talent, and yes, Beloved–of treasure; yes, I am talking about money—our wealth is not ours for only our personal sake. It has been entrusted to us, earned by the gifts God gave us, it has been entrusted to us that we may be radically generous toward the collective good, the common good. Both women in today’s Word understood this in every fiber of their being—to the point of putting their lives at stake.  They understood that as a people of Love, radical hospitality is who they are. Giving their lives for the sake of all. This is the cross we are called to bear; the cross that Christ gave his life on. The cross we bear isn’t whatever “burden” we think life has handed us; the cross we bear is sacrificial love, sacrificial giving—giving our lives for the sake of all.

Being a Christian isn’t about wearing crosses around our neck, showing up on Sunday, singing praise songs or parading around in red hats. Those are too often only costumes, put on to present a facade to the world. What truly reveals who we are is what we do, how we live, how we give, how we love.
This is nothing new. It is what we have always been called to do and be. Our job description hasn’t changed, but it has been intensified. Beloved—let us commit to who we are and whose we are. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride; there’s no getting around that, but living into our truest identity—as the Beloved Community—is what I believe is the only way forward now.

From the words of the prophet Isaiah, let us have ears to hear Love speaking:
Shout out, do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Is not this the fast that I choose:   to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
 and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of Love shall be your rearguard.
Then you shall call, and Love will answer;
you shall cry for help, and Love will say, Here I am.
If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
Love will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places,
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water,
whose waters never fail.
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.