The funk is slowly creeping in again. Like a vat of molasses, spoiled and bitter, pouring over my soul. COVID cases are on the rise yet again—an average of over 3,000 cases per day here in Arizona alone. Can’t breathe. Arguing over masks infringing on civil liberties and individual rights? What about everyone else’s right to live and be free during a pandemic? Isn’t a public health crisis enough to make us all want to do what we can to keep our communities safe?
I want to scream, “Just wear the damn mask! Read the damn science, or at least the statistics that are emblazoned on every health department’s and news outlet’s web page that show that masks work to stem the spread! Enough of your willful ignorance! You’re the sheep, following blindly a narcissistic psychopath who doesn’t give one ounce of shit about you or your family or your community, spewing so many blatant and ridiculous lies we’ve lost count!” But, that’s not very grace-filled, is it. Yes, it is what is on my heart at this point, but it is not the grace that Jesus tried to teach his impetuous disciples. Does it make me a bad person to have these feelings and thoughts in my heart? Does it make me an unloving pseudo-follower of Jesus? The answer worries me.
Afghanistan—I can’t imagine the horrors, the desperation and fear of those trying to escape, and even more so those without the means to even try. It’s truly unimaginable here in my comfortable and relatively quiet study—the only noise coming from the blowing of cool air from my air conditioning vent and the soft hum of the fan in my computer (first world problems!).
My iPhone rings (first world)—time for me to switch mental lanes and work on Sunday’s worship service. What is the “good news” for next week? I feel my soul drawn to the prophets. The lectionary tries to steer me to the Letter of James: don’t show favoritism towards the wealthy and powerful people; love and treat one another equally. God favors the poor. That’ll preach! But the harsh words of the prophets beckon to me, like some kind of self-inflicted wound to wake me up from my comfortable slumber. The words of the prophet Amos speak boldly to my numbingly aching soul: “Doom to those who ignore the evil day and make violent rule draw near: who lie in beds of ivory (or sit in comfortable air conditioned rooms), stretch out their couches (and watch Netflix to drown out the noise of the world), eat lams from the flock, and bull calves from the stall (or gorge on Cheetos from the pantry, or make their organic spinach salad with craisins, goat cheese, and manga salsa on top); … who drink bowls of wine, put the best oils on themselves (or expensive perfumes or colognes), but aren’t grieved over the ruin of Joseph!” (Amos 6.3-4, 6, CEB).
Who or what is Joseph today? The Afghan people? All of us suffering in one way or another from the pandemic? What about the billions of people who still have no access to the vaccine, who have no choice? While other are already receiving booster shots? Where is the justice? Maybe Joseph is the rapid change in climate that raising the levels of oceans, increasing the earth’s temperatures, and making more forests arid deserts?
Jeremiah warned the people of the disaster that approached because they abandoned God’s ways. They ignored the plight of the poor, ignored the protests of women, sought after “what was worthless and became worthless” (Jeremiah 2.5, CEB). “Even though you scrub yourself with soap or strong poweder, the stain of your sin is still before me, declared God” (Jeremiah 2.22, CEB).
Where is the good news in those rising oceans, angrier and deadlier and more frequent hurricanes, refusing refugees from countries my government helped destabilize and destroy, 4.5 million deaths from a virus that could have been more contained had our leaders taken it seriously and been more focused on leading and protecting than on playing partisan politics with people’s lives? Think about the magnitude for a moment. India has almost a billion more people than the U.S. (4 times more), yet 6 million fewer cases of COVID-19 and 200,000 fewer deaths, despite being one-third the geographic size. And the U.S. continues to tout having one of the most advanced medical industries in the world. No math can make all that add up. Add to these facts that COVID statistics are likely under reporting cases for those unable to afford medical care, the most vulnerable people around the world. “Love your neighbor as yourself… as ‘self’”—as though “they” are you (Leviticus 19.18; Matthew 19.19, 22.39; Mark 12.31; Luke 10.27; Romans 13.9; Galatians 5.14; James 2.8).
“2020 was the deadliest gun violence year in decades. So far, 2021 is worse.” So reads a Washington Post headline on June 14, 2021. According to a University of California Davis study, 60% of gun deaths are suicide. In 2019, 23,941 precious lives were lost in the U.S. due to gun suicide. Compare that to 14,861 people who were victims of gun homicide.[1] Both those numbers should be alarming, but the number of suicides should be most alarming. The report also shared that there are about 115,000 non-fatal gun-related injuries every year. These numbers are telling on multiple levels, yet little to no progress from our leaders provide more mental health support nor on implementing gun regulations like background checks that over 70% of the U.S. electorate supports.
“If you return, Israel, return to me, declares the Lord. If you get rid of your disgusting idols from my presence (that is, everywhere!) and wander no more, and if you swear by the living God in truth, justice, and righteousness, then the nations will enjoy God’s blessings” (Jeremiah 4.1-2, CEB). Some interpreters suggest that last phrase could read: “will bless themselves.” Can you imagine? Doing something, turn to a way of justice and righteousness that will allow us to heap blessings upon ourselves as “a” people?
If we turn to the ways of grace rather than ungrace; the ways of seeking understanding rather than recalcitrant ignorance; the ways of justice or all, especially the most vulnerable, rather than preference for the rich, flashy, and powerful; if we can se how our present ways of self-indulgence are actually killing us; and truly repent, turn away from those ways and towards the ways of love and compassion, we may just learn a better way that actually affords us more freedom. Freedom from the chains of fear that bind us and keep us separated from one another. Freedom from the heavy boots of so-called progress that too quickly cement us in the muck of environmental self-destruction. Freedom from the sadness and grief that plagues our hearts and makes us want to do bad things to one another and ourselves. Freedom from the slick but false advertisements that too easily convince us that the latest snake oil disguised as cool gadgets and status symbols can heal us of our systemic depression, only to deepen our drug-like dependance on the accumulation of material things (that all end up spoiling the precious earth in giant trash pits).
Freedom. Freedom to finally and truly live—maybe for the first time in our lives! Freedom to just be—to be ourselves, be in truly loving relationships in which we are for one another rather than in competition with or even against. For in the freedom God offers, “there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer free or slave, there is no longer male or female” (Galatians 3.28), there is no longer gay or straight or bisexual or transexual or queer, there is no longer black or brown or white, there is no longer citizen or refugee or immigrant, there is no longer Republican or Democrat, there is no longer rich or poor, there is no longer any division among us, “for all of [us] are one” in the love of God. The differences among us become things to be learned and understood, appreciated and celebrated, as gifts reflecting the ever expansive diversity of our Creator, for we all are citizens of the one holy kin-dom of God, siblings sharing in the hard won wisdom of the Holy One who loves us and cares for us and will always welcome us back. And for that good news, thanks be.