What does the world need?

256F00BB-10F5-4D89-93E1-FD4534BFCD0F

“To repair, heal the world” by artist and calligrapher Michael Noyes http://www.michaelnoyes.com/gifts/religious/jewish-judaica/tikkun-olam-to-repair-heal-the-world

What does the world need?

What do I have to give in a broken world? 

I have asked myself these questions before — many times before. I have asked these questions when teaching classes and writing my blog. I have asked these questions in a sermon — actually multiple sermons. So one might expect that, through my sermon preparation through Biblical study and other research, I might have found an answer by now. I have not. Because my finding the answer is as complicated as the myriad places of brokenness i see in the world around me.

Of course, I have to pay attention to the image of a hungry child, a refugee family at the border, entire African villages that subsist without clean water, the violent streets in cities across the United States, the mother protecting her children from abuse and herself from domestic violence, racially motivated hate crimes that terrorize, the climate crisis that to some is so real and to others just a hoax, the active shooters that have terrified school children and threatened life at many other places where people are vulnerable. I can continue this list into perpetuity.

But then I have to acknowledge the more insidiously evil side of the world’s brokenness — not the actual broken places, but the injustices that create them. I have to be woke to the societal and political forces of greed that deny complicity in the oppression of the most vulnerable among us. 

So when I ask myself the question, “What do I have to give in a broken world?” I am really asking if I will: 1) personally tackle a person’s specific need; 2) seek radical change of the societal and political forces that cause oppression; 3) become both a political activist and a compassionate hands-on Samaritan; or 4) engage in a contemplative life by getting in touch with the mystic inside that prays and longs for an end to every form of brokenness.

If I were a mystic, if could pray away the brokenness, I would most assuredly enter my prayer closet and do so. Admitting to being a mystic, though, is slightly uncomfortable. I’m not completely sure what a mystic is or what a mystic does. And isn’t being a mystic reserved for monks and nuns? 

Richard Rohr is my go-to person on the duality of action and contemplation. One can find in his meditations —every day — the inseparable link between our compassionate acts and the inner spiritual work that drives us. Matthew Fox writes:

Deep down, each one of us is a mystic. When we tap into that energy we become alive again and we give birth. From the creativity that we release is born the prophetic vision and work that we all aspire to realize as our gift to the world. We want to serve in whatever capacity we can. Getting in touch with the mystic inside is the beginning of our deep service.

“Our gift to the world,” he writes. And all around that “gift,” he lifts up prophetic vision, the energy to come alive, touching our inner mystic and engaging in deep service to people and places of deep need. I can never broach this subject of a broken world without revisiting the Jewish concept known as Tikkun olam – “repair the world,” that manifests itself in acts of kindness performed to perfect or repair the world. The phrase — found in the Mishnah, a body of classical rabbinic teachings — is often used when discussing issues of social policy, insuring compassionate remedies to those who may be at a disadvantage.

As for me . . . I really do want to touch my inner mystic, to enter into a silent, deep inner space that compels me to serve humanity. I also want to enter a place of tikkun olam. I want to repair the world and tangibly care for the persons who have need. Is it even possible to do both? Isn’t it imperative for a follower of Jesus to do both? Is it not because of the hope of the Good News in Christ that I must be about ministries of compassion and justice?

It seems pretty clear when reading the words of Jesus that caring for broken persons in a broken world is most certainly a compassionate imperative. 

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. 

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” 

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” 

And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

— Matthew 25:31-40 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV

It’s just downright confusing and complex. Bottom line is this: I have no idea how to repair the world or how to get in touch with my inner mystic. But I also do not want to be permanently consigned to the goat-group mentioned in this Gospel text! I would rather struggle to figure out what I must do to care compassionately for my brothers and sisters and to get in touch with the contemplative mystic that makes me come alive.

Sound advice comes from a plethora of good and wise people. This time Howard Thurman gets the last word:

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

May God make us people who have come alive. Amen

 

F9FA5D3C-53F0-4043-8A72-F9E2D63F7349

On another note, please pray for me as I look toward my kidney transplant currently scheduled for November 12th at Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. I am so grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often felt so frightening. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. If you would like to read the story of my illness, please visit the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website at this link:

://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

“Go Fund Me” page is set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs for the month we have to stay near the transplant center, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please be a part of my transplant journey by making a contribution at this link

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

Who Has Seen the Wind?

5D279BA7-5431-4872-93DC-BDF5BFA11178

. . . And the wind? Ah, who has seen the wind go by? Neither you nor I. But when we see the trees bow down their heads, we know the wind is passing by. That is the way the Holy Spirit works: silently and effectively. *

There was never a more needful time for the fresh winds of the Holy Spirit. We inhabit a world divided . . . nations divided by tenuous agreements; white people divided from brothers and sisters black and brown; people of faith divided by differing traditions; immigrants divided from those who claim to “own” this nation; citizens divided from their president; politicians divided by ideology, greed and self-interest. There are so many examples of division. And whether we will admit it or not, division diminishes us.

The divisions among us — the ones we personally experience and the ones we observe — create an unsettled environment around us and an unsettled spirit within us. The acrimony, the hate and the disrespect we witness all around creates an unrest in us. Perhaps, from the weariness of the constant hostility we see, our heart becomes hardened. Perhaps we are closed off from the Spirit Wind that fills us and creates in us rebirth, fresh and new.

We can never think of wind without recalling the day of Pentecost. The disciples of Jesus and other followers were gathered together when a rushing, mighty wind filled the entire house, and all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit. (Acts 2:1-4) That day was the beginning, and from that day when Spirit Wind came, the holy promise came into view: that God would pour out the Spirit on all people, that sons and daughters would prophesy, that some would have visions and others dreams.

We need it again, the Spirit Wind. We need it to fill us with courage for the living of these days. We need it to fill us with love that can change the world. We need it for the will to save our planet from devastating climate change. We need it to responsibly open our borders, to become again a nation of welcome, to reach out our hands to sojourners searching for safe refuge, to rescue children from the unwelcoming places where they are detained and kept from their parents. We need it to repair the world in all the ways possible to us, to repair its brokenness.

To become God’s people in a broken world, we need the wind of the Spirit. Now.

But how does Spirit Wind come in these days? I have heard of no “Pentecostal” experiences of rushing mighty wind. I have heard of no one who has seen a sudden whirlwind. (1 Kings 19:11)  I do not know of a person who saw the winds cease at the command, “Peace. Be still.” (Mark 4:39)

So how does the Spirit Wind come? I can share only what I know from my own experience, and that is this: when I am very still and very present with God, the Spirit comes quietly, gently — but surely. I do not see her. I do not hear her come with any sound of rushing wind. I cannot touch her. Yet I feel her, covering me, filling me, empowering me. I go away with that sense of being reborn and renewed, like I might be “born from above.”

2CE74B96-9488-4F0B-81B2-69824F5EAEC8

Art by Charlotte Nickel, “Mighty Rushing Wind,” acrylic on canvas.

You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it’s headed next. That’s the way it is with everyone ‘born from above’ by the wind of God, the Spirit of God.

— John 3:8 (The Message Bible)

 

*From the Carmelite Bulletin, Carmel of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Little Rock, Arkansas, “Who Has Seen the Wind?” Christina Rossetti – 1830-1894

 

*******************************************************

On another note . . .

Please pray for me as I await a life-saving kidney transplant. I am grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often feels so frightening. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. If you would like to read the story of my illness, please visit the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website at this link:

http://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

A “Go Fund Me” page is set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs for the month we have to stay near the transplant center, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please be a part of my transplant journey by making a contribution at this link:

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

 

 

Taking Back Our World

5378F42A-B263-40F4-A454-D497E07BF325

Let’s take back our world! Let us join hands and, in the power of community and holy resolve, reclaim our world from white supremacists, racists and violent actors that threaten our people.

If not us, who? If not now, when?

After the 2012 shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut that killed 20 young children, British journalist Dan Hodges wrote that the gun control debate in the U.S. was over. This is what he wrote: “Once America decided killing children was bearable, it was over.”

And then we let 2,193 shootings happen. 

The shootings that occurred this week offend us in a very deep place. You see, we are followers of Christ, the Prince of Peace. We are the people of God who know that thoughts and prayers and compassionate sentiments won’t end this kind of terroristic hate.  

The El Paso shooter told law enforcement that he wanted to shoot as many Mexicans as possible. His manifesto, which he posted on the 8chan online community  included details about himself, his weapons and his motivation. He described the El Paso attack as a “response to the Hispanic invasion of Texas,” and proclaimed that he was defending his country from “cultural and ethnic replacement brought on by an invasion.”

Most certainly, these words from an obvious white supremacist should offend every follower of God. His evil intent is also an offense to God. In response to such evil, perhaps we will raise our voices continually and persistently, without becoming weary. Perhaps we will resolve to take back our world, proclaiming God’s word in the darkness of evil just as the prophets did. Like them, perhaps we will persist tirelessly and with a holy resolve, for as long as it takes to end the evil that arises from racism and white supremacy. 

Perhaps our prophetic action will mirror that of the writer of Lamentations who wrote, “Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin; pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children.”

May God so embolden us.

Dangerous Contemplation

4374BEEE-0A02-4B14-BE5E-E3914C3ADFAA

This morning, I read a meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation as I often do to start my day. In it, Sister Joan Chittister explores the relationship between prophetic witness through compassion and contemplation. Sounds risky to me! And that’s very close to the point Sister Joan makes:

. . . contemplation is a very dangerous activity. It not only brings us face to face with God, it brings us, as well, face to face with the world, and then it brings us face to face with the self; and then, of course, something must be done. 

Something must be filled up, added to, freed from, begun again, ended at once, changed, or created or healed, because nothing stays the same once we have found the God within. . . . We become connected to everything, to everyone. We carry the whole world in our hearts, the oppression of all peoples, the suffering of our friends, the burdens of our enemies, the raping of the earth, the hunger of the starving, the joyous expectation every laughing child has a right to. Then, the zeal for justice consumes us. Then, action and prayer are one.

Bolder prophetic words were never written! Would that all of us who profess a relationship with God might rise from our knees and be ennobled by our prayers to do justice and love mercy! Largely, this is not the case for us. Our prayers feel empty, devoid of the compassion of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. After we have prayed, have we changed? Has our heart been softened by moments of communion with God? Does our heart move into a tragic world with the tenderness of a compassionate Christ?

As we are praying, children and families still languish at our borders, suffering in living conditions that seem impossible in America. And we hear the distant echo of Jesus asking for the children to come to him.

As we are praying, the ever-changing climate exacts its harm on oceans and rivers, having significant impact on ecosystems, economies and communities. Rising average temperatures mean balmier winters for some regions and extreme heat for others. Flooding, drought and violent storms take a dangerous toll on our beloved earth.

250ACCE1-377E-4980-9A7B-546C7B31A8FEAs we are praying, gun injuries cause the deaths of 18 children and young adults each day in the U.S. And every day, 100 Americans are killed with guns. Can we ignore the fact that nearly 1 million women alive today have been shot, or shot at, by an intimate partner?

 

 

All the while, we comfortably rest in our own kind of contemplation. Yet, contemplation must be redefined. We must learn to experience it as a change in consciousness that forces us to see the big picture, to see beyond our own boundaries, beyond our denominations, our churches. Sister Joan again says it best:

Contemplation brings us to see beyond even our own doctrines and dogmas and institutional self-interest, straight into the face of a mothering God from whose womb has come all the life that is.

Transformed from within then, the contemplative becomes a new kind of presence in the world who signals another way of being. . . . The contemplative can never again be a complacent, non-participant in an oppressive system. . . . From contemplation comes not only the consciousness of the universal connectedness of life, but the courage to model it as well.

Those who have no flame in their hearts for justice, no consciousness of personal responsibility for the reign of God, no raging commitment to human community may, indeed, be seeking God; but make no mistake, God is still, at best, only an idea to them, not a living reality.

So we struggle, Christ followers in a world of cruelty and insanity. Our struggle is about what exactly we can do when we face the world after our contemplative practice. Isn’t contemplation and compassion a pilgrimage to the heart, my own heart and God’s heart? When our moments of contemplation reveal a clear-eyed view of a suffering world, what does Christ’s love and the Holy Spirit’s prompting move us to do?

I often refer to the words Tikkun Olam, the Jewish teaching that means repair the world. Tikkun Olam is any activity that improves the world, bringing it closer to the harmonious state for which it was created. So how does our contemplation lead us to practice Tikkun Olam, to repair the world? What is it that “must be filled up, added to, freed from, begun again, ended at once, changed, or created or healed?”

It is a critical question for all of us and each of us. Indeed, each person must find her own answer and must follow her own path. The way ahead may lead to U.S. border towns. The way ahead may lead to phone calling or letter writing. It may lead to community activism or bearing witness in places where injustices occur. It may lead to protesting and marching or teaching and preaching. It may lead to deeper communion with God through even more time spent in prayer and contemplation.

It will, beyond any doubt, lead us to the places in our world where compassion touches pain. Dangerous contemplation will most definitely lead us to those places.

May God make it so!

 

 

Brooding

1A4072F7-B30A-43DB-9F51-A5AFBF363C94

My friend and sister blogger, Maren, never fails to inspire, convict or challenge me. I look forward to her blog posts, knowing that by the end, I will find myself in a gasp, or at least a sigh. She is gifted at helping her readers stay in touch with the current angst of the times, the events and realities of our world. This is her latest post:

My little hand holds (and not the great world)
the small shining of shook foil

and there is no beauty that I see,
only the blankets on children detained —
alone and frightened, cold,

and without care,
without — O you grand and broken God,
toothpaste and soap,

and parents,

without justice, compassion,
but not without hope,
because that alone, hope

is never spent, but lights the western sky
as night falls
on the long walk from the south,
even if dimly, touches
with fingers a rim of east
every morning, every detention center.

Hope brought them here
to the terrible inhospitality
that smears
all this country ever thought to be.

And it is left to us and the Holy Spirit
to brood
over those who are lost,
and bend the world
so that the living children
might someday be found
by bright wings.

And here is where it grabbed my heart . . .

What does it mean for me to join with the Holy Breath of Life “to brood over those who are lost, and bend the world?” What would that look like? How do I do it? Does it mean to “brood” over the lostness of our world and call forth life?

What a need that is! How desperately we need to bend the world toward mercy and justice. To lift up the children who sleep on cold concrete floors. To lift them high above the world’s cruelty to the place of “bright wings!”

May God help us to comprehend the brooding Spirit and her open arms. And may she reach down to grab us and hold us up inside the wind that heals.

 

Maren C. Tirabassi served as local church pastor in the United Church of Christ for thirty-seven years in Massachusetts and New Hampshire.  She is the author or editor of twenty books. Visit her blog at:
https://giftsinopenhands.wordpress.com/2019/06/26/prayer-for-the-immigration-crisis-an-homage-to-gerard-manley-hopkins-gods-grandeur/

Pentecost!

18bbdca6-8ece-4df4-aa13-fe110e3298cb

The Day of Pentecost — my favorite Sunday of the church year! A grand and glorious celebration of the coming of the Holy Spirit.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled,” Jesus told his friends. “I’m going to prepare a place for you. And in the meantime, know that I will ask the Father and he will send you another Comforter to be with you forever.” (From John 14:1-18,  paraphrased)

On the day we celebrate as Pentecost, Jesus made good on the promise that the Comforter would come. They gathered in the upper room that day, men and women, disciples and kinfolk, perhaps waiting to be baptized with the Holy Spirit as Jesus promised. (Acts 1) Or maybe they were just there to have good conversation, to discuss the politics of the day. Or maybe they just wanted to hang out.

Whatever their reason for gathering, they were in for the surprise of a lifetime, the coming of the Holy Spirit. I can try to find the best words to tell you how it happened, but I cannot say it any better than this: 

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

The Church was born on that day, born on the wind. The rush of the violent wind blew through their lives. Tongues that looked like flames of fire rested on every one of them, and from that dayon, their lives were changed. They left that room with renewed courage, with a confident boldness. Maybe they even believed they could change the world!

Ah, that renewing Holy Spirit! That breath of life that sweeps through us and prepares us for holy mission. In these days of ours, so many things need the kind of change that can only happen through the wind of the Spirit. There are divisions to heal and children to protect. There are wrongs that need to be righted and truth that needs to be told. There are walls to tear down and people to shelter. The world, so broken, needs repairing. To be summoned to the mission of repairing the world is our honor. 

I am inspired by the Jewish teaching Tikkun Olam, which means “repair the world.”  Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson described tikkun olam as the mission of every human being. With a voice of urgency, he spoke with the conviction that in our times, one small deed could bring the world to the resolution for which it has yearned since its creation.

For this kind of mission, the Holy Spirit comes to us, bringing the breath of holy change and inviting us to be a part of it. That refreshing, renewing Holy Spirit, Pentecostal power, wind and flame that can change our world! May the wind blow among us and the flame kindle our passions to bring that change!

It is as the hymn says:

O Breath of Life, come sweeping through us,
revive your church with life and power;
O Breath of Life, come, cleanse, renew us,
and fit your church to meet this hour.

— Bessie Porter Head

Spirit of God, make it so.