Do Not Surrender Hope And Become A Mourner Of Inevitability

Do Not Surrender Hope And Become A Mourner Of Inevitability

As I write these reflections, the news that the so-called “big beautiful bill” passed the U.S. House of Representatives and will make its way to the president’s desk has emerged. People like Rev. William Barber of the Poor People’s Coalition have named this bill and its provisions as “dangerous and deadly” because it will make cuts to some of the essential programs that support people who make some of the lowest incomes in our land. At the same time, it will cut taxes for many of the wealthiest Americans.

Barber did not mince words when he said, “This is policy violence. This is policy murder,” because of the direct impacts that it will have on the health and welfare of low income Americans.

Of course there’s a lot in this bill that will have multiple impacts, and no one can foresee with total clarity what the implications will be of this, but it does not look good for a lot of people – especially the most vulnerable among us. Barber, for his part, vows that “we will organize those people” who are directly impacted by this bill, and hopes that this will be a watershed moment in terms of awakening the conscience of this nation.

In today’s first reading from Genesis 28, Jacob has a spiritual experience at the site of a holy shrine. He takes a stone from the shrine and places it under his head as he sleeps. During the night, God speaks to him in a dream and says, “In you and your descendants all the nations of the earth shall find blessing.”

I could not help but think of so many situations in this country and around the world right now.

Do people find a “blessing” in us and our actions? Is that what we are setting in motion in the world – individually or collectively? Is that what this bill introduces into the world? Or maybe we should ask WHO receives the blessing?

Jacob awakens from his dream and declares, “Truly, the LORD is in this spot, although I did not know it!” He calls that place Bethel.

Two quick reflections.

Many spiritual writers describe modern humanity as operating in a dream state. And this is not a compliment! It basically says that we’re moving through the world unconsciously. Unmindfully. Thoughtlessly.

Jacob’s awakening is meant to be a call to us as we realize that “Truly God is in this place.” This is true no matter where we are. This is true no matter who or what is in front of us. 

And so Jacob calls the place Bethel which is a beautiful Hebrew word that means “house of God.” What is more, the word Bethel is gender neutral and applies to everything we experience.

Imagine if we did that throughout the week as we stand in front of a tree and say “house of God.” Or in front of a stream or river and say, “house of God.” Or in front of the fireflies or dragonflies. Deer and raccoons. Or in front of anyone and everyone who passes us by. House of God.

Imagine if we did that in front of the mirror. House of God.

It’s hard for me to believe that if we truly saw God in this place, we’d pass the kind of legislation we’re passing. Or supply weapons to other countries to indiscriminately drop on people. Or put people in cages. Or erode the fundamental rights of our citizens. Or clear cut forests and dry up rivers so we can make golf courses.

In the gospel today from Matthew 9, Jesus is approached by an official whose daughter has just died. But the official says, “But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live.” So Jesus gets up to follow him.

Along the way, “A woman suffering hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind Jesus and touched the tassel on his cloak. She said to herself, “If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured.”

When she touches him, Jesus says to her, “Courage, daughter!  Your faith has saved you.” And she was cured. Jesus continues on to the official’s house and sees that a crowd of mourners is there. He says that the little girl is only sleeping, and the crowd ridicules him. So he sends everybody out, takes her hand and brings her back to life.

There is SO much in this gospel that we could reflect upon, but I want to focus on two specific points today in light of all that is going on.

First, this woman had been suffering for 12 years. This is a long time to be in pain. And yet somehow, she has not surrendered all hope. She actively kept seeking and searching for a remedy and finally comes upon one in Jesus’ presence. 

Secondly, the crowd gathered at the official’s house has concluded that it is too late for any meaningful intervention and they ridicule Jesus. They have given up and accepted the inevitability of death. He has not, however.

Like the woman, many of us are carrying pain that has not found much relief. Whether it is the pain from our lives or the pain of the world, there’s just a lot of it and maybe very little seems to help. And like the crowd, we may be tempted to surrender to the inevitability of death and harm. Maybe we shake our heads and say, “what can we do…” Maybe we’re tempted to look away and distract ourselves or ignore the bad stuff.

Jesus has a different plan, however. He calls for courage and hope.

One of my favorite writers – and someone I follow intently on Facebook these days – is Rebecca Solnit. In her amazing book, Hope in the Dark (2004) she says,

“…Hope is not like a  lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky…Hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency; because hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from the annihilation of the earth’s treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal.  Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed.  Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope.”

What I gather from today’s readings is that if we want to steer the future away from the course we see it headed towards, we need embodied hope and action.

If we take seriously Jacob’s vision that the House of God is all around us – that all is Bethel – then we must not surrender our hope and become mourners who have accepted death We, too, must let our faith heal us so that we can continue to trust in a yet-to-be-determined future that we can still influence. We can, for our part, let others find blessing in our words and actions as we join with others who also seek to build the beloved community in our midst.

I invite you to follow Jacob’s lead this week. Take a stone from this precious earth and place it under your pillow. Let it stir your heart and spirit. May it wake us all from our dream state and show us more clearly that we dwell in the House of God. And may we not surrender that vision to the forces of death but, instead, face them with courage and hope. May our lives be a blessing to others and especially to the most vulnerable in our midst.

6 Comments

    Theresa Tensuan-Eli

    Mike, thank you so much for this call to hope, courage, and faith!

    Annie OReilly

    Very well put into words on paper. I feel like I am in mourning that enough people agreed to have these policies by voting for our present president and lawmakers. We are in a dream state, indeed. About a month ago, I heard a friend say that his policies won’t affect her, but she is sad for the most vulnerable. These policies affect all of us. I am numb with mourning but I have put into place an idea that I will put my money where it is needed most: local free clinics and other ministries of hope and courage. This may well be our moment of building a longer table.

    Wallace Hamilton

    The world is always out of wrack. We, as individuals, have to do our part to improve it. Reduced government resources calls for increased personal giving. What reallly bothers me is the official government policy of meanness and total disregard for human life if not a rich white person (I am both). How sad our President visits prisons and glories in punishing people. This is sad, but mostly unacceptable.

    Catherine Flannery

    Such a fitting and inspiring message to start this week. Thank you!

    Sally Partner

    Thank you for this message today, Mike. I needed that reframing, as too often these days I find myself struggling with my faith in the light of all that is going on.
    This was a good reminder that the onus is on us to do all we can with courage and with hope.

    George Dardess

    Beautifully stated, Mike.
    I thought of Terrence Malik’s 2019 film, A Hidden Life, about Franz Jägerstätter, the Austrian peasant who during WWII refused to take the “Hitler oath” and was beheaded for it. There’s a climactic scene in the movie I can’t forget. The judge asks him why he won’t take the oath, since life would be so much easier for him if he would. Franz simply says, “I can do no other.” The point, I think, reinforces what you and Rev Barber say here, Mike, that following our faith (and that is what Franz was doing, refusing to give allegiance to anyone or anything but God) is just— that. No fanfare, no drama, just the fact of it. “I can do no other.”
    I’ll include also the quotation from George Eliot that Malik uses to introduce the movie. It’s priceless:
    “… for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

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