“Dreams” by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Dear Friends in Christ,
On All Saints Sunday it is impossible to see into the rest of November, beyond election day. Yet for some time I’ve been in conversation with many people who are anxious, unsettled, and even worried, however the votes go this year. For those of us who experienced the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights strife, Stonewall, Selma, 1968, and several incursions in the Middle East — including the ones ongoing today — there are lots of reasons to worry. Our world is in pain.
And then along comes Jesus. Who would have been in Selma and Stonewall and the Sudan most likely, and he says several things. First, that sometimes unsettling expression that doesn’t solve things instantly: “Do not be anxious.” And second, that always-appropriate series of teachings: love your neighbor, feed my sheep, go tell Herod he’s a fox, cast out demons, follow me. And plenty of others like them. They all come down to one theme to honor our One God: get to work healing things. There will be rumors, says Jesus. Disciples will make mistakes, says Jesus. So as often as you come together in my name (he says at the Last Supper), do this in remembrance of me: honor my body and blood, or, take care of God’s children, my family in the faith. All of them.
There is plenty of comfort in scripture. There are also plenty of cautionary tales. And plenty of calls to action, where we build cities, nations, and “keep and tend” creation. That last bit is in Genesis. Our Christian faith is a participatory sport, not for the debates but for the dedications. We’re here to heal.
And our healing inspiration comes from our dreams, and from God’s vision.
In the sermon on Reformation Sunday I noted a 500-year-old idea called “election.” It’s a complicated idea, with plenty of flaws, but it’s not about votes. It’s about being called to care for each other: chosen (if you will) to do good. God calls us, we claim, to love our world.
This follows an older idea, tikkun olam, which is a concept in Judaism generally translated “to repair the world.” Rabbinic literature says this means to care for our social order. Like Jesus did.
Whatever we worry, whatever rumors we hear, however our elections go, we are people of election, called to cast out demons, recover sight to the blind, heal things that are bleeding, and do whatever we can to see that in our faith death is not the last word. Resurrection is. However our elections go, we already have a messiah. We don’t look for one in government. Just the goodness needed to care for our social order in accordance with our faith, that cites justice and mercy and sufficiency and equality as central values of good government, as Jesus dreamt.
From All Saints Sunday it’s impossible to see the rest of November or any of the years ahead. But our election — our call from God — bids us love our neighbor all the time anyway, so that’s what we’ll do for Thanksgiving, that’s what we’ll do for Advent, that’s what we’ll do for Christmas, for Church School, for By-Laws, for Missions, worship, community service and everything else that makes us a church. Cite Curtis Mayfield, and keep on keeping on.
In a sense, and in scripture, that is what makes saints anyway. Folks who get up each day and act decently, in good times or bad.
See you in church, and peace,
