Tired of the election |
All Saints Sunday Nov.
4, 2012
Isaiah
25:6-9
Ps. 146
Ps. 146
Mark 12:28-34
Who did not sympathize with that little girl, strapped in
her seat in the back of the car, while her mother listened to an endless loop
of campaign speculation and punditry on National Public Radio? The little girl
who burst into tears at the mere mention of Barack Obama and Mitt Romney? It is
not always helpful to quote the Bible at distressed children, but perhaps she
would take comfort from today’s psalm:
Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, *
for there is no help in them.
When they breathe their last, they return to earth, *
and in that day their thoughts perish.
What would people in Staten Island, or along the Jersey
Shore, make of these verses:
Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help!*
whose hope is in the LORD their God;
Who made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in
them; *
who keeps his promise for ever;
Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, *
and food to those who hunger.
On the endless news loop this week we were more likely to
see compelling and forceful cries for help from residents of New York City who
felt utterly cut off from the rest of the nation. They had experienced the
mighty force of heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them crashing
down on their heads. If God sent justice to the oppressed, or food to the
hungry, it came through the tireless efforts of rescue workers, and Red Cross
volunteers, and Salvation Army food trucks. Multiply the old African proverb,
“It takes a village to raise a child” about a thousand times in this situation:
it takes a nation, a state, a society, all of us, to restore any food, clothing
or shelter to people so devastated. Even a FEMA trailer looks good to people who
would otherwise choose between a cot in a school gym or their flooded, burned
out or blown away home.
The LORD sets the prisoners free; the LORD opens the eyes of
the blind; *
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down;
The LORD loves the righteous; the LORD cares for the
stranger; *
he sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked.
Not everyone who is giving their all to help thousands of
people in need are doing it out of the conviction that when we do good, we do
it in the name of God, or that when we do good we are carrying out the mission
God has laid out for this world. If the orphaned and widowed are sustained, it
is human hands that do it.
Not everyone understands “doing the right thing” in this God
context. We can be suspicious of outsiders. The scribe, who questions Jesus in
today’s Gospel, was part of a group that was very skeptical that what Jesus was
doing was in the name of God. That scribe had to reach out to someone shunned
by all the leaders around him, and when he saw was he was doing, and listened
closely to what he was teaching about why he was doing things like healing and
feeding, he reaches across the divide, and Jesus reaches back: “You are not far
from the kingdom of God.”
When we are in the middle of a disaster on such a massive
scale, religiosity – the modern-day equivalent of “burn offerings and
sacrifices” -- all those phrases about God’s providence, or about the will of
God, or God watching out for so-and-so while the person next to him drowned – I
find it pretty hard to recognize that hand of God in events like those. But
where I do see the hand of God is in the hands of those people – no matter
their motives – who are there right now, doing the right thing, people who,
wherever they are coming from, are not far from the kingdom of God.
This feast of All Saints is about all those people who have
the two great commandments – to love God and to love neighbor – written on
their hearts. This feast of All Saints is about people who did not have to
think twice: people who put their bodies between an innocent victim and an
oncoming bullet; people who cared for sick and dying people even as they risked
their own lives; people who lived lives of love and compassion.
This feast of All Saints is about people who, even when
times are bleak, know that God’s promises are meant for them: God’s promises of
great feasts of rich food and fine wines – God’s promises that in the face of
death itself God is there, wiping away tears and removing all their shame and
disgrace, along with all the rubble of broken homes and shattered lives.
This
feast of All Saints is about people who believe that these promises are not
just for “our kind of people,” our next-door neighbors only, not just for the
people who vote the way we do or listen to the same radio stations, but for all
people – that our God, for whom we wait, will bring this justice and abundance
to all.
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