Sunday, May 22, 2022

An Amazing Detour

Acts 16: 9-15 and John 14: 23-29

During the night, Paul had a vision. A man of Macedonia was pleading--“Come over to Macedonia and help us.” They don’t know exactly where they’re going. They don’t know exactly why. They wander around looking for a river, a place of prayer. They are looking for a man in need. They find spiritual, active women. They spoke together and listened deeply, back and forth. This powerhouse of a woman, Lydia, listened eagerly. She was not only the spiritual leader in this community but also a successful business owner.

God opened her heart, and she not only asked for baptism for herself but for her whole household. And she prevailed on the guests to come and stay with her, which they did, of course. It was an amazing detour.

Today, we can easily imagine the context of Paul’s dream—people calling out, “Come help us.” 

The world is full of so many troubles.

 

It’s another tough week—nationally, globally and right here. Last weekend, “Americans heard news of yet another mass shooting—this one in Buffalo, New York, where ten people died and several more were injured. But this one is set apart from the many mass shootings that happen yearly in the U.S.... Rather than indiscriminately shooting, the 18-year-old suspect targeted a supermarket in a predominantly Black neighborhood. He allegedly wrote a White supremacist manifesto online, traveled about 200 miles to the store, and livestreamed the attack, according to authorities.”[1] 

Meanwhile, Mariupol, Ukraine is now in Russian hands, after more than two months of bitter fighting and constant Russian shelling that destroyed massive swaths of the city and killed thousands of civilians, according to local officials. Ukraine formally declared an end to its combat mission in Mariupol late Monday.[2]

And on Monday, Carol learned that her son Eric died. Carol had to tell Craig that his brother had died. They responded as all of us did as we each heard the news—“What?! I can’t believe it!” And in the face of the death of this dear son, brother, co-worker and friend, we are speechless.

 

Jesus invites us in the face of so many troubles… “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

Who among us doesn’t struggle with a troubled heart, though? 

If we are awake, if we are human, if we are listening to the world’s pain at all, how can we be trouble-free?

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” And Jesus talks about going away, and another Advocate coming, and things that will happen that will challenge our belief in God’s absolute love, and moments that will help us remember.

 

It is not a straight path. One of my relatives wrote an understandably proud note about her new high school graduate—“You earned this night.” But if we think about it, we know better… we do not earn life’s joys any more than we earn life’s sorrows. None of us succeeds alone, none of us grieves alone. Actually, we are all so very connected. We are connected to those who live in fear of gun violence and white supremacy. We are connected to those who wonder if their loved ones are alive. We are connected to those who grieve the shocking loss of their loved ones.

And in all this fear, grief and trauma, we are connected also to the source of love and peace.
In belly laughs and flowing tears with those we trust, we forge connection to one another and God.

 

On Thursday, the members of the CLC Women showed up for Carol.

Even more than usual, they showed tender kindness to one another.

They didn’t say any of those quick phrases that people say that can be so hurtful and just plain wrong at the time of death—like: “Well, God just needed another angel.” 

No, they sat with Carol and asked for the story, and then they asked Carol how they could direct a gift in Eric’s honor and they decided to give $500 to Shobi’s Table.

 

We do not believe that God took Eric away… but we do believe that God was and is present with Eric, in life and in death and in life beyond death. God is lovingly present and active in all places where help is needed. God is working to mend and heal and save—in all these people and places—and God invites us to participate, even if we may not be sure exactly how or where we’re going or who we’re looking for or what we’re looking for…

 

In this month’s Gather Bible study with the CLC Women, one of the stories we read was about another amazing detour. In this one, a family took their cat, named Ketchup, on vacation and accidentally left him behind. After going back to get the cat, they decided to drive a different route home. They found a beach home that they decided to purchase, a place they called “Ketchup’s Find” after that. Finding that place was random, yet seemed like no accident to them… we can’t always see meaning in each part of the path at the time, yet we make meaning. As we look back over the detours of life, the tragedies and triumphs, the mountains and valleys, we may find that God was right there, providing the help and direction and vision we needed. We pray that we might see the way, hear the promptings, take the next steps.

 

Life is not a straight path. Two amazing teachers whose book I read last June and whose voices I got to hear again this week—thanks be to God—are Amelia and Emily Nagoski.[3] One of the tidbits they shared was about how powerfully healing it is to share rhythmic movement with other people for a shared purpose. Maybe its dancing or maybe its marching. Maybe its participating in worship or in a concert. It’s scientifically verified that this is one of the ways we move through stress—whether intense or low level—to a place of healing, comfort, peace.

 

Rhythmic movement with other people for a shared purpose… I think this is one more reason why I love the spirituals so much—for how they help us do this.

Hold on just a little while longer, hold on just a little while longer, hold on just a little while longer, everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright

 

This week was also a blood moon. In different times and cultures, humans have made up all kinds of meaning about the earth’s shadow cast across the moon: sign of death, sign of dealing with one’s difficult emotions, beautiful, terrifying. But how about this possible meaning: a time for special prayers.

When we honor both the brilliance and the shadows that make up this reality of our human existence, we open ourselves to a deeper and more profound place of relating to life and to the beings that surround us… By honoring both the light and the dark… and the modes of action and of rest, we allow in the truth of the world.[4]

As I depart for Sabbatical, my prayer is that we can honor both modes of action and rest. My prayer is that we can embrace this amazing detour… a time when we can know God is with us, helping us, even while we’re apart. We’ll find unexpected people, delight and experiences along the way. We can know for sure that God is with us as we care for another in life’s toughest times, and we’ll learn not only to be care givers but to receive care. Christ is with us and never fails. Here are the words again to hold onto, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” It’s defiant hope… Everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright.



[1] Article by Shirin Sinnar, Q&A with Sharon Driscoll, link: https://law.stanford.edu/2022/05/16/stanfords-shirin-sinnar-on-the-buffalo-shooting-hate-crimes-and-domestic-terrorism/

[2] https://www.npr.org/2022/05/18/1099885151/mariupol-falls-ukraine-russia-what-it-means

[3] https://www.burnoutbook.net

[4] Kalia Kelmenson, https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/spiritual-meaning-of-the-blood-moon

 

No comments: