If my week had a theme, it
might be noticing sin.
This week I’ve been forced
to own up to the way I let a relationship go and chose avoidance and dishonesty
over facing challenging conversations.
And in coming to terms with it, I have had to see that, compounded by
years of silence, honestly dealing with it will cause more hurt, and the only
way out of it with integrity is to go ahead and tell the truth anyway.
It’s uncomfortable to see
sin, both past and present, in my life, and it feels awful, but also good to
see it so I can deal with it.
Sin is when we fail to live
consistent with who we are made and called to be – when we violate our
belonging to God and one another. It can
be personal and internal – letting go of anger, dealing with pride, or self-judgment,
and we’re stuck to wrestle inside ourselves with our failure to live consistent
with who we are made and called to be. It an be between us, words and actions that
hurt or degrade people, that violate the bond we’re meant to share as human
beings and act as though we are against instead of for one another. But most often, it’s both.
This country has a deep sin,
our original sin, the sin of racism, which means first of all categorizing
people as fundamentally different by
the color of their skin, and then labeling some people better, more human or
more worthy, and other people worse, less human and less worthy. Then that belief
is built into a whole society’s structures and functions so that consistently, both
overtly and subtly, for generations, some people are treated as less than and
other people as more than, rooting this lie deep inside all people.
Right now our nation is
noticing its sin.
By virtue of the sin
itself some people have always noticed it, because it affects their every waking
day and it can never be escaped, and others, because they don’t often feel
directly impacted by it, can ignore it and look away for weeks, years, even
decades at a time.
But right now we cannot look
away.
And it feels awful to be staring at this thing together, this sin at our
core, both past and present, but I imagine for those who among us who have
stared at it their whole life, it feels good too, to see so many other faces
staring at it at once.
Right now most of this
country is looking at the same ugliness and evil and calling a thing what it
is. This is a huge part of God’s
salvation.
Calling a thing what it is,
naming your own story, your own culpability, your own participation in evil, recognizing
and saying aloud the way Sin works in you and through you is the only way to
salvation.
We call it Confession or
Repentance.
It’s what comes before
forgiveness, but after the grace of God.
God’s grace always comes
first. God’s grace is where it starts.
We begin in abundance and enough for all, harmony and unity in crazy wild and vibrant diversity, all people sharing together in caring for this gorgeous earth and its creatures, all of us made more human by our shared humanity, learning and growing alongside one another. The Way of God is our beginning and our end.
Anything that takes us away from that is a lie.
We begin in abundance and enough for all, harmony and unity in crazy wild and vibrant diversity, all people sharing together in caring for this gorgeous earth and its creatures, all of us made more human by our shared humanity, learning and growing alongside one another. The Way of God is our beginning and our end.
Anything that takes us away from that is a lie.
We live the lie every day in
our country.
Whether we feel the sting of it in the moment or not, we participate in that lie. Just to illustrate this lie at work, I live in the neighborhood where
Philando Castile was shot. He had been pulled over by police 52 times in 13
years. Want to know how many times I have been pulled over in my 26 years of
driving? Four. I was speeding all four
times. Two of them I was let off with a warning. As a white woman, I have always felt safe with
the police, confident that they are there to protect me. And if I get in
trouble it’s because I deserve it, and they are upholding laws that keep us all safe.
Respect, kindness, mutuality, safety - these should not be a privilege.
We belong to God and we belong to each other.
Anything less than that is violence to the
image of God.
But here is part of the trap
– the way of fear, the sin of division, and devaluing each other is so
ingrained, that we operate out of that without thinking, without noticing.
In
longing for justice for all, we could settle for revenge against some.
And wouldn’t it feel so good to hate haters with a more hate than they hate?
But
choosing which people to hate has never been and will never be the answer. And
just trying really hard to be good and right and never mess up or hurt others
isn’t the answer either (not least of all because it is impossible).
The answer is facing our sin with
honesty, letting the sorrow and horror of it wash over us, stepping into our
brokenness alongside each other is the place God can meet us and heal us. In Jesus Christ God so loved the world that
God plunged right in alongside and with us into all of it, calling all people
children of God, calling all people back to God. And taking on all sin and evil and division
into his very self, God-with-us let it take his life, and then came back to say
love is stronger than death. In Christ's complete connection to God and each other,
we find the belonging that sets us free to truly live.
Our Psalm today has a
repeated refrain: God’s steadfast love endures forever.
Steadfast love is one of the
ways the Hebrew word Hesed is
translated. Remember Hesed? It was in the story of Ruth and Naomi that we told
years ago, and it is all throughout the bible. It’s translated many ways, love, kindness, lovingkindness, mercy, loyalty, favor,
devotion, goodness – it captures something of the inner connection and
commitment God has toward us, so for years, we’ve called hesed: belongingness.
The belongingness of God is
eternal. Nobody is outside of it; nobody gets to put others outside of it. It
lasts forever.
Human beings who have been judged less than and treated as
unworthy, they belong to God and belong us.
Human beings who have grown up sheltered from the suffering of others,
benefiting where others don’t, they belong to God and belong to us.
Human beings who are so filled with hatred
and violence they forget their own humanity and purposely dehumanize others,
they belong to God and belong to us. (So then is incumbent on human beings who long for justice and
peace not to agree with them and let them off the hook by dismissing them as
monsters when they act inhumanely, but instead to call them back to their
humanity and hold them accountable it).
The way of fear that says
there is only so much belonging to go around – that if we give it to some we
must withhold it from others. But the belongingness of God is neverending –
eternal – constantly replenishing, spreading and multiplying, claiming us back
to the love we came from, the love we are here for, the belongingness we are
meant to live into and out of alongside each other.
It doesn’t let us go when we
hurt each other, or when we believe the lie about others or about ourselves. Instead
it calls us back to confession and repentence, the place where salvation can
meet us.
The salvation of God, often
called in scripture, the rest of God,
is returning to our core, belongingness, being brought back into harmony with
God, ourselves and each other, where our souls can be at rest in trust, and we
can live consistently with who we are and whose we are.
Our Psalm today tells of
God’s specific salvation, restoration of belongingness, felt right where people
needed it most – in their sin and its terrible consequences, in times terror
and helplessness, when they were lost or alone, or had reached the end of their
capacity to adapt or cope in a crisis.
Each vignette is a story of people who confessed, who recognized their
situation – noticed it and cried out to God- And God saved them.
Salvation comes as
deliverance from what is holding us captive, wholeness where we are broken,
direction where we are lost, and connection where we are severed. It comes as
hope in despair and new beginnings after bitter endings. As this Psalm illustrates, the salvation of
God always brings to us just what will heal
us – even if it isn’t necessarily what we think it should be – because it is
always about restoring us to belongingness in God, and that is not always
comfortable, or easy, or fun.
And it
doesn’t mean dead people come back (yet), fortunes are reversed, the world is suddenly fair, or pain we’ve
caused can be taken back and erased. But it means the way forward in Christ is
deep and true connection to God and each other. This is where it all began
and it’s where it will end up when all is said and done.
So, as brothers and sisters
in Christ, the Body of the living Christ here on earth, embodying God’s
belongingness in and for the world, we are not to fear the lie that tries to
mislead us, or hide us from the pain and suffering of others.
We are not to
fear the lie that says violence is stronger than love, or that hating is ok as
long as you direct it at the right people.
And we are not to fear looking into
our own souls and our own actions for the evil and sin that keeps us from
belongingness and withholds it from others.
We are to confess them out
in the open where salvation can meet them.
And we are to live the crazy trust that God’s abundant and neverending
love and steadfast belongingness is bigger than our sin, wider than our divisions,
deeper than our pain and our alienation, and higher than our human goals and
aspirations.
God’s steadfast love is
eternal and beyond us, and right here next to us; it embraces and claims us, so
we can see each other, listen to each other, confront each other, forgive each
other, and thank the Lord for God’s steadfast love, For God’s wonderful works
to humankind.
This Psalm was written to be
read out, sung out, spoken by a community as a kind of call and response; it
was meant to be shared by a diverse gathering of people rejoicing
together. It places them within a bigger
story, the eternal belongingness of God throughout history, in the lives of
those gone before and yet to come, God redeems and heals and restores. And so
it becomes an invitation to honestly recount the stories of their need, and
share how God has been faithful in their lives, and to name where they need
salvation now, and remember God’s belongingness that holds and heals them even
as they are belonging to each other in this act of sharing it all aloud.
Some were forced to acknowledge that their own
actions had wounded another. By avoiding
conflict and distress, they’d let dishonesty and division grow. They felt ashamed and dismayed at the further
hurt coming clean would cause.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And God delivered them from their distress:
God helped them look honestly at themselves, and
confess to the person,
to see that forgiveness and reconciliation can only
emerge when you tell the truth.
Let them thank the Lord for God’s steadfast love,
For God’s wonderful works to humankind.
For God persists in calling us to belonging,
and offers endless opportunities to make things
right, even when it feels hard.
Some were watching their country in turmoil,
as deep sin and evil rose up from within and made
itself known once again.
Anger, violence, sorrow and distress surrounded them,
And they felt like they were drowning in the noise of
arguing and blaming,
lamenting and shaming, calling to action and name calling,
and they longed for clarity, direction and hope.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And God delivered them from their distress:
God brought them side by side with someone in silence
to lift up this nation in prayer.
God reminded them that forgiveness and
salvation can only come after confession and repentance. And God showed them
stories of people facing our sin and turning toward each other in belonging.
Let them thank the Lord for God’s steadfast love,
For God’s wonderful works to humankind.
For God brings life out of death, always, and God
will never stop, God’s justice will prevail.
Let all who are wise give heed to these things,
And consider the steadfast love of the Lord.
Amen.
* * * * * * * * * *
Some helpful articles:
"What I told my White Friend When He Asked My Black Opinion on White Privilege."
"What I saw in Charlottesville"
"For Our White Friends Desiring to be Allies"
"How To Make Fun of Nazis"
"The Power of Non-Violent Action: South Africa and Poland" (High school curriculum)
Amen.
* * * * * * * * * *
Some helpful articles:
"What I told my White Friend When He Asked My Black Opinion on White Privilege."
"What I saw in Charlottesville"
"For Our White Friends Desiring to be Allies"
"How To Make Fun of Nazis"
"The Power of Non-Violent Action: South Africa and Poland" (High school curriculum)
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