Jesus said to his disciples, "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
"Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves.
"But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour." (Luke 12:32-40)
Lilli Lewis, the prophetic blues musician from Louisiana recently played in Arlington Heights at Hey Nonny. In the prelude to her beautiful album Americana, Lilli offers this, “My American Heart. My American heart is alive with the fire in the promise of tomorrow. I’ll speak my story. I’ll sing my song. My American heart is alive with the fire in the promise of tomorrow.” Then, the album begins, inviting the listener to journey through a prophetic call to compassion, kindness, and hope. Lilli laments that she wants peace for her body and mind, and peace for humankind but she is tired of fighting. She is so tired she wonders if the answer to her prayers is to just take a wrecking ball to knock the whole thing down and start from scratch.
As I reflect on Lilli’s words, I wonder if over the past few years, have you and I, have any of us had a choice to take a wrecking ball and knock it down. I feel as if that was done without my consent, without my permission.I do not believe I had a choice and that lack of choice does not feel good.
Many people tell me how tired they are. Many here at St. Christopher’s have shared with me over a cup of coffee this overwhelming sense of exhaustion. I wonder if we all feel as if we have been HIT by a wrecking ball - a wrecking ball of grief, a wrecking ball of change, a wrecking ball of trauma.
This world, this country, this city, this congregation has experienced so much loss in a short amount of time.
COVID arrived causing death and uncertainty. Buildings were closed and all social life essentially shut down. What I initially thought was quarantine for 14 days dragged on to 2 years. Family, and friends, and co-workers loss all depth and dimension, becoming flat faces on a computer monitor. Parents became teachers. Bedrooms became offices. Kitchens became classrooms. Pastors became Zoom-evangelists. Loved ones died in isolation. Marriages severed due to substance abuse. Graduations and proms canceled. Good-byes, and sacraments, and milestones celebrated in isolation.
We lost our dignity as racism and hate became the norm. We even lost our sense of reality witnessing treason and coup attempts live on television and then being told via tweet that that was not what we were witnessing. Loss coupled with madness and anxiety.
Here at St. Christopher’s, this congregation has experienced the loss of two deacons, the loss of an Associate Pastor beloved by our families with children, the loss of your rector and his family, the loss of staff to retirement, the loss of so many parishioners who have not returned to church since COVID arrived on the scene. When your new rector is called and is in place, only Jen and Richard will remain from your previous staff configuration.
So much trauma. So much loss. Here we are in grief. And life goes on. We all probably sit in the darkness of the night wondering what losses are ahead, even questioning the possibility that I may not have what it takes to move through it.
Can I stomach one more loss?
No wonder we are tired. No wonder we are skeptical. No wonder we are angry. No wonder we are depressed. No wonder we are concerned about re-establishing holy habits and building this sacred community. Do we have the stamina, the foundation, or even a map telling us possible directions to take when we are all living and working, surrounded by incredible change and loss? We have been transformed into a people of trauma and grief and exhaustion. Every decision seems like a choice between life and death and survival.
In her song If it were you, Lilli Lewis sings, “I just couldn’t make my body keep up with my mind. Can you tell me how the night becomes the only solace possible?”
Everything around us has changed. Dr. David Kessler, an expert on grief, shares this,“We are feeling a number of different griefs. We feel the world has changed, and it has. We know that this is temporary, but it doesn’t feel that way, and we realize things will be different… We are also feeling anticipatory grief. (It is the) feeling we get wondering about what the future holds when we are uncertain. Usually, it centers on death. We feel it when someone gets a dire diagnosis or when we have the normal thought that we will lose a parent someday. Anticipatory grief is also more broadly imagined future. There is a storm coming. There is something bad out there. With a virus, this kind of grief is so confusing and so tiring for people. We are feeling a loss of safety.”
We are grieving together, worldwide. And where are we in all this? Promises made. Promises kept. Promises broken. It becomes so, so difficult to empathize, to accompany another, it takes way too much energy to love, especially when we feel overwhelmed and exhausted. The interior spirit, the God-world within us, feels as if it is almost extinguished.
In the gospel from Luke this morning, Jesus says, "Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for them as soon as they come and knock.”
Are your lamps lit or are they going out?
Are you dressed for action or are you ready to go to bed?
Blues singer Lilli Lewis believes we always have the potential for healing within us. In her song, A Healing Inside, Lilli uses her prophetic voice for us to consider and remember our own potential. She sings, “I have a healing inside of me. I have been longing for justice. I have a yearning for safety. I claim a space for my grieving. I am awake to my journey. I have a healing inside me.”
I guess I have a healing inside me. With no energy, however, my lamp seems to be going out, and I am ready for bed. It may be time to just go to sleep. But, the sleeper must awaken. Frank Herbert, author of the sci-fi classic Dune, says this, “Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.“
What will it take?
For me, often there is a very simple solution to kindle that old, tired lamp. It is the voice of another. It is a call, a prayer to remember the care and company of another.
The vision of Isaiah son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah.
Hear the word of the Lord,
you rulers of Sodom!
Listen to the teaching of our God,
you people of Gomorrah!
What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams
and the fat of fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls,
or of lambs, or of goats.
When you come to appear before me,
who asked this from your hand?
Trample my courts no more;
bringing offerings is futile;
incense is an abomination to me.
New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation--
I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.
Your new moons and your appointed festivals
my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me,
I am weary of bearing them.
When you stretch out your hands,
I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers,
I will not listen;
your hands are full of blood.
Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your doings
from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,
learn to do good;
seek justice,
rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan,
plead for the widow.
Come now, let us argue it out,
says the Lord:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be like snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.
If you are willing and obedient,
you shall eat the good of the land;
but if you refuse and rebel,
you shall be devoured by the sword;
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken. (Isaiah 1:1, 10-20)
Isaiah, the son of Amoz, is not getting much sleep. What keeps him up at night are his visions of a beautiful world where everyone has enough. Isaiah longs for kindness, generosity, fairness, and justice for all of God’s people. He prays a lot and writes down his visions, hoping to center and to ground his life on the teachings of God. But he looks around the world and often gets discouraged. He sees what his friends and coworkers are up to. He monitors and reacts to the actions of world leaders. He gets discouraged as the reports of the courts of - King Uzziah, King Jotham, King Ahaz, and King Hezekiah, - the kings of Judah, get reported throughout the land. For Isaiah, the religious revivals are a mockery. The rituals have become meaningless. The hypocrisy is overwhelming.
Sounds familiar? It feels as if we are living during the times of the Old Testament. Plagues. Corrupt politicians. Wars against nations. People denying, then stealing, the dignity and the rights of others. “Thou shalt not, but guess what, we will.” The lights are getting dim. The vision is fading away. And despair and pessimism take over.
In the midst of all this, Isaiah finds a lamp lit and picks up a pen to write. Isaiah opens his mouth to speak. Isaiah calls the people to respond. Isaiah tells the people that today is a good to day to respond to God’s love. But, the sleeper must awaken.
Like Isaiah, like Jesus, like us, life’s griefs are often overwhelming. But, during Jesus’s ministry, he listened to the voice of Isaiah and the voices of so many other prophets. It was their voices that helped Jesus live into his life’s vocation. Jesus remembers the desperate call of Isaiah, gathers people around him, and together they encourage each other to keep their lamps lit.
Is your lamp lit or is it going out?
Are you dressed for action or are you ready to go to bed?
Answering honestly is a good place to start. Being truthful with ourselves and with God is what God desires most. We must recognize that attending to the holy space within us may be difficult and our lamps may be pretty dim because of all that we’ve been through. Recognizing that is the starting point of a prayer worth praying.
Jesus knows it is hard. Jesus heard the people crying from hungry. He knew and we know people are physically and spiritually hungry. Including ourselves! Jesus heard the people overwhelmed with anxiety. He knew and we know exhaustion and change can be overwhelming. Jesus heard the people crying from grief. He knew death and we know loss often immobilizes us. Jesus heard the people begging to be taught how to pray. He knew and we know that sometimes we are so buried in life’s circumstances we don’t even know what to pray for.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
“Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
“Be at peace for today you will be with me in paradise.”
I cannot speak about the condition of your lamp. I can only speak about mine. But my lamp seems to illuminate God’s holy people living through loss, trauma, and grief. We have recognized that for many just getting out of bed and showing up is a major win. We must remember that the experiences and circumstances we navigate daily are often overwhelming and could even be soul-killing. And maybe, just maybe, with the help of others, I will find the energy and I may find the strength to continue along on this journey of faith.
Lilli Lewis encourages us to encourage each other. In her song, My American Heart, she encourages us, praying, “My American heart. I want your baby to be born healthy. I want your son to make it home from the war, to be able to rejoin his people. I want your job to help you feed your family. Hopes it helps you build a home and houses, generations of joy. I hope your children and grandchildren become curious kind. But above all, I wish them safety from without and within. My American Heart.”
As Lilli’s words remind us about the importance of holy relationships, as the prophet Isaiah’s writings encourage us to see the world as it is, as Jesus’s ministry calls on us to encourage and accompany each other by keeping our fires kindled and each other’s lamps lit, may we hear each other, sustain each other, and encourage each other so that the sleeper awakens.
Thank you Tom Jackson, Chicago’s own New Orleans DJ, spinning the sounds of New Orleans at 12noon on Saturdays on WLUW 88.7fm, for introducing me to the music of Lilli Lewis. What a blessing.