From1 Corinthians 12:12-2
6
Faces of “essential workers” Who are the people
who have delivered something to you; prepared something for you;
worked as a cashier, checker, bagger; performed a medical procedure
on you; offered you a needed service during this time of limited
mobility and sheltering-in-place?
Bring to mind the people who have harvested your food,
cared for your health, picked up your trash, insured you get your
medicine, made deliveries to your home. . . .
Do you recognize them as essential? Did you
before 3 months ago?
Paul teaches us that the eye
cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the
head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the
members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.
Are there people who you now see as essential who
you once thought you could live without?
In a
relaxation spiritual practice that I do—and some of you have done
with me—toward the end, we focus our attention on a part of our
body that is in pain, that may be sick, or weakened…
And as
we focus there, we also become aware that there are other parts of
the body that remain strong and healthy, and we allow those parts of
the body to send their strength and energy to the weakened or sick
area. No part of the body exists on its own.
Paul
says, if the ear were to say, “Because I am
not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it
any less a part of the body. . . . God has so arranged the body,
giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no
dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care
for one another. If
one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is
honored, all rejoice together with it.
If
one member suffers, all suffer together with it. . . .
George
Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Michael Lorenzo Dean, Eric Reason, Christopher
McCorvey, Christopher Whitfield, Atatiana Jefferson, Dominique
Clayton, Pamela Turner, Botham Jean, Antwon Rose II, Stephon Clark,
Ronell Foster, Aaron Bailey, Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Sandra
Bland, Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Trayvon Martin, Jordan Davis,
Ahmaud Arbery, and . . . .
Scores
/ hundreds of black men, women, and genderqueer individuals have
suffered and died at the hands of racists—and racist police—who
think they are above the law. And because racism
was built into the fabric of America from the beginning, systemic
racism continues to be a persistent obstacle for our society and for
the values and vision we claim for the church. . . .
And
even as the global pandemic continues to unfold, we are experiencing
waves of grief, anger, and unrest unleashed by centuries of
injustice—which come around to us—here,
today—and ask, How
is it that you, Church, can help in this time of crisis?
In her
recent charge to the graduates of Pacific Lutheran Theological
Seminary, Dr. Tamura Lomax invoked the ancient prophets and said,
“Raising hell in an unjust world is your
work. It is THE work. It is holy work.”
So, go be hell raisers for justice!
And as
if heeding her words, crowds of people—black, white, and brown;
gay, straight, queer, and trans; people of all faiths, nationalities,
economic status, and political affiliation—have taken to the
streets to cry out against the brutal and inhumane moral illness of
systemic racism. And this is where the church belongs.
If
one member suffers, all suffer together with it. . . .
We belong to one another. We are essential to one another. Without
you, my humanity in diminished. Without me, you are diminished. We
need one another.
And
this is what Paul is trying to convey to the 1st
century church in Corinth. There
are obviously those within this very diverse Christian community who
are questioning whether or not they belong—whether or not this
Jesus movement is really meant for them—whether or not they can
really contribute in a meaningful way—whether or not they truly
belong. And here we have Paul’s response:
Each and every one of us—no
matter who you are—is important, actually essential, to the entire
body of Christ. We are all interrelated, interconnected . . . as
different—as opposite—as we may be . . . Jews or Greeks, slaves
or free . . . democrat or republican . . . gay or straight . . .
young or old . . . rich or poor . . . black or white . . . strong
or weak . . . . regardless of gender identity, social ideology,
education level, ability level. . . . We
actually belong
to one another. We are essential to one
another.
The poet and philosopher David
Whyte argues that feeling as if you belong is one the great triumphs
of human existence—especially if you can sustain a life of
belonging and invite others into that deep sense of belonging. But
he further suggests that our sense of woundedness around NOT
belonging can also be a great source of strength. When we know what
it means to live in exile—hurt and pain—and
when we learn to name the exile we feel, we have already begun the
journey home. And that is one of the greatest human endeavors and
the greatest of human stories. Just ask Abraham. Or Ruth. Or Mary.
Or Jesus. Or any of the Black Lives Matter protestors on the
street, fighting for their lives to end the deadly reach of racism.
Or any of the millions of refugees around the world searching for a
deep and abiding sense of home.
It’s easy to feel like we don’t
belong. It’s much harder to create intentional spaces where all
kinds of people feel like they DO belong. . . . And
that my friends is the work of the church. Where every single person
is welcomed as a beloved child of God and truly feels at home.
Clivie
and the hummingbirds. Built nest, laid eggs, hatched, grew,
practiced, left the nest on Thursday. Clivie’s big tears
loss and underneath the loss, a deeper, almost inexpressible
mourning. Mourning safety and safety for friends and needing one
another. …
Reminder
that we need each other. We are related. Dependent. Interrelated.
Even in a time dominated by messages of individualism, isolation,
loneliness, and fragmentation. We’re all in this together. We
belong to one another. We are essential to one another. And
especially now, we need to allow our hearts to be broken open. . . .
And to
express our dependence, our relatedness, in the shadow of racial
brutality, white supremacy, and privileged entitlement, we must
humble ourselves. And we show up for the ear. For the foot. We
must show up for what Paul calls the “less honorable,” “less
respectable” members of the body. We show up for those who are
different from us. For those whose needs are greater than ours. We
show up for those facing oppressions and injustices that we may never
fully comprehend. We show up for Black Lives Matter. And we raise
hell.
Today, this may mean that we show up for the March and
Rally to end Racism in Vallejo. Or it may mean we show up in another
way. Relationships, after all, are not just something we “do.”
Relationships are who we are. They embody a quality of presence. A
way of sharing love. A willingness to examine ourselves and our
intentions and the impact of our actions. And as we face down
centuries of racism in this country, undoubtedly our God is with us.
And we take the lead from our siblings of color. We show up for
them. And when they are honored, we will all rejoice together.
Amen.