So last week I said it felt like it had been a big week... um, I guess we’re going two for two?
This week was really big - big in a “the world all of a sudden feels different” way. For all of us. Regardless of your political leanings. Whether or not you follow politics closely.
Of course I’m talking about the election that took place on Tuesday, south of the border. It may not have taken place in our country, but the ramifications are global, given our neighbour’s massive influence in world affairs.
Myself and many people I know, and many of you here today are feeling really anxious, maybe even despairing. At the same time, we are a diverse community here at Trinity-Grace and we have different perspectives on things - and that includes how we understand the challenges our world faces, and what the solutions are.
And while those differing views present challenges, I don’t want to be in a homogenous community. It is a treasure in an earthen vessel (as the scripture saying goes) to be in a diverse community where there are people I have come to know and love and treasure as my siblings in Christ, who I also hold different views from. Because knowing and loving and treasuring people creates an opportunity to truly dialogue with them and remember that hate isn’t my only option, nor does it need to be my default position towards someone with whom I disagree.
I don’t have to hate someone who thinks differently from me.
That may sound obvious but many in our society have forgotten this. Nowadays if you are not with me, you’re against me. And there are only two sides of an issue, the right side and the wrong side.
That’s the prevailing mentality today.
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The theologian Paul Tillich once wrote that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. It also seems to be a great killer of dialogue.
And it seems to me that in that context, the opposite of certainty may actually be curiosity. While certainty leaves us even more polarized and dismissive of one another, a posture of curiosity opens us to growth in understanding and empathy.
In this season of remembrance and reflection, we do well to consider that practicing our faith includes the spiritual practice of loving curiosity which says, “I’m not starting this conversation with a certainty that I’m right” and also assumes that we can respectfully disagree and be neighbours, maybe even friends - that those two things are not mutually exclusive.
I’m not saying it’s easy, or that it can happen with anyone and everyone. For this kind of neighbourly dialogue to happen, both parties need to be ready to approach it this way. And honestly, the best chance of that happening is when people are already in community together, have gotten to know each other a bit, as fellow human beings, before discussing difficult things.
Which is why building diverse community is so important - and so counter-cultural in our day. Because what we see happening south of our border is also filtering into our society and our communities, namely that polarization and the automatic suspicion and “othering” of those who don’t hold the same views as us.
Here’s something I've discovered: when I have those difficult conversations with people I have come to know as people, as people who are part of my community (not as “those on the other side”), then even though we may continue to disagree on certain things, what often rises to the surface is the fact that while we may have differing understandings of the challenges our world faces, and what the solutions are, when it comes to what we want for the world, and our society, and those we know, we find we actually want the same things: we want poverty to be eliminated, and people to have homes, and for our loved ones to be free from addiction, and for our families and those we know to be healthy, and our children to be safe and happy. And we want peace.
Honestly, right now this is where I’m thinking my energy and our energy as a church needs to go. Into community and relationship building. And into curiosity an neighbourliness.
Less certainty —> more loving curiosity
More loving curiosity —> more dialogue
More dialogue —> less polarization
Less polarization —> less hate and “othering” and villifying/demonizing
Less hate and othering and vilifying —> a kinder, gentler, more peaceful world.
One relationship, one conversation at a time. Engaging curiosity as a spiritual practice and expression of our faith in what Jesus said about loving our neighbour.
RUTH & NAOMI
Today we heard a small bit of the story of Ruth and Naomi. Naomi has been widowed and sons died. One daughter in law, Ruth, has stayed with her but although it means she’ll be left alone, Naomi encourages Ruth to get remarried to ensure her future. That decision to follow her mother-in-law’s advice ends up with Ruth eventually giving birth to Obed, who became the father of Jesse, who was the father of King David.
The story of Ruth is basically the backstory for the future King David, this pivotal figure of the Hebrew bible. And as such, it reads like the beginning of a multi-generational saga, with intrigue, triumph, tragedy, foreign influences, and the building of relationship with former adversaries.
What strikes me about this story is how Ruth and Naomi find themselves caught up in this bigger drama of the day and, rather than allow themselves to be overwhelmed by it, manage to focus on the agency they have and make one decision they can make. Which ends up having profound consequences for the larger story, though they couldn’t know it at the time.
And I see this parallel: that while we’re doing this spiritual work of relationship and curiosity and dialogue that we’ve been talking about - we also need to be a bit like Ruth and Naomi. Like them, at the critical moments of the saga, and let's not delude ourselves that there won't be critical moments - we will need to consider our options and our agency and our faith, and find our place in the saga, taking courage and acting in the ways we can, whether that be large or small, individual or collective ways, and trust those actions will make a difference, even if they start simply as seeds being carried and planted, the fruit of which we may not be able to see right away, or even in our lifetime.
Speaking of seeds, let's take a moment with these verses from Psalm 127:
Those who sow in tears
shall reap with shouts of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying seeds for sowing,
shall come home with songs of joy, carrying in their sheaves.
This psalm was written for a people in exile. If at points in the tumultuous “saga” we are part of, we end up feeling like exiles, then our faith tells us: Ok, if this is how it is right now, and go you must - then go - but don’t forget to take your seeds.
Because what are we as followers of the way of Jesus Christ, if not seed sowers?
We have seeds of good news - of hope and peace and of God’s love and presence and power. And if need be, we will carry those seeds into new, even hostile lands and sow those kindom seeds of love and justice, if need be, through our tears of empathy, trusting that God’s grace will sanctify those our tears into living water which will nurture those seeds until they grow into movements and acts of beauty, justice, equity and solidarity.
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So here’s a challenge - and I credit author Parker J Palmer for this piece of wisdom: his challenge to us is to turn off the polarizing noise of what sometimes passes for “the news.” And to tune in instead to the news of our human hearts - our own and each other’s.
Exercise the muscle called trust, he says, whenever and wherever we can—and then reach out in trust to one more and one more and one more.
And in so doing, let’s keep building that countercultural community of curiosity and compassion that will continue to seed the kindom among us.
May it be so. Amen.
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