The Moral Arc

Morning readings: Psalms 122; 149, Isaiah 51:1-8, Galatians 3:23-29, Mark 7:1-23

The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said: "The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice." He was not the first to use this particular metaphor. In 1857 Unitarian minister Theodore Parker used it in a sermon against slavery. Between Parker and King, other religious referenced the "moral arc." This image endures because because it bears out over time. Over the centuries, as prejudices become less acceptable, more and more people have gained access to freedom and justice .

Jesus constantly expanded the circle of justice to include the disenfranchised and despised. As Paul wrote to the Galatians: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." (Gal 3:28). Distinctions that separate human beings from one another have no meaning in the kingdom of God. Since Paul's time, the moral arc has led the church to remove divisions and champion justice in the form of abolition, civil rights, child labor laws, and other progressive social movements. Like society at large, the church experiences an uneven ebb and flow of progress, but on the whole it moves in the direction of justice. What barriers to justice are eroding right now?

Popular wisdom says that once we get to know individuals  or groups, we are more inclined to consider them equal and treat them justly. While this is generally true, and while it is desirable to broaden our understanding of the world by getting to know people, a hard truth remains: we simply don't have time to understand all the people Jesus would have us love. Does Christian love - expressed in mercy and justice - require us to understand its recipients? It does not, and demands to be extended especially toward those who remain alien to us.

Perhaps the only real division is between people we understand and people we don't. Can we rise to the challenge of loving people justly even when our lack of understanding makes us uncomfortable? The road to justice arcs beyond our ability to see, but it is where Christ waits to meet us.

Evening readings: Psalms 100; 63

Riding Out The Storm

Today's readings: Psalms 88; 148, Isaiah 50:1-11, Galatians 3:15-22, Mark 6:47-56

The Gospels contain a few different versions of stories about Jesus walking on water. In today's reading from Mark, he begins striding across the Sea of Galilee when he notices the disciples in their boat are struggling against the waves. The shortest sentence in this story may be the most revealing: "He intended to pass them by." (Mark 6:46b)

Jesus only climbed into their boat when they thought he was a ghost and grew afraid. Until that point, it seemed he expected they would be capable of fending  for themselves. Only a few minutes away from his presence, and they lost courage and - it seems - the ability to recognize him.

At some points in our lives, even the most faithful can feel like God has abandoned us. What if - like Jesus walking past the disciples in the boat - God has more faith in our ability to weather the storms than we do? Our strength derives from the knowledge (if not necessarily the feeling) God is always with us, but he does not literally need to be in the same boat. Could it be possible that when God is moving in a direction we don't expect, particularly one that is diverging from us, we might fail to recognize the movement as his?

Jesus was teaching his disciples more than how to follow him: he was teaching them to lead others. He left them (and us) the Holy Spirit, but he also left them with the reassurance he believed they were capable of feeding his sheep (John 21:15-17). It took a lot of stormy moments - culminating in the crucifixion - for the disciples to understand this lesson. If we are to be witnesses for the good news, we must not despair every time the boat rocks. During the worst storms, even if we are to drown, God walks the waters to lift us out.

Evening readings: Psalms 6; 20

A burden shared...

Today’s readings: Psalms 54; 146, Isaiah 48:12-21 (22), Galatians 1:18-2:10,  Mark 6:1-13

When Jesus felt the disciples were finally ready to travel and spread his teachings, he dispatched them in pairs. He told them to bring nothing extra: no food, no luggage, no extra clothes and no money. For shelter they were to rely on the hospitality of the communities they visited, and in its absence they were to rely on the open road. Though his commands sounded harsh, Mark reports the disciples had successful journeys.

It’s easy to develop a mindset that we just can’t survive without the basics. As technology evolves, the “basics” have become anything but: smart phones, tablets, fitness bands, bottled water, credit cards, etc, etc.  Today we can barely imagine going on a mission trip without a GPS and the Bible on an e-reader. Imagine what it would feel like to have Jesus unpacking your purse or backpack or luggage saying: “You won’t be needing this mp3 player. Or this phone. Or different shoes for hiking and digging. Or this pencil. Or…” until eventually you have nothing but a walking stick, the clothes on your back, and a single companion.

Photo Credit: John Schultz

Yet what a gift it is when two people are separated by no distractions and joined by a dedication to the Good News. On our own we can easily wander down the wrong path, but a companion keeps us accountable and on track. Our fear is less when someone has our back, and our strength is greater when we are responsible for and with another. Throughout the scriptures we can read examples of prophets and leaders who were at their best when they had a partner sharing the burden: Moses and Aaron, David and Jonathan, Ruth and Naomi, Elijah and Elisha.

Relationships are formed in the absence of distractions. Being fully present with another person while you both are working for the Kingdom of God is a uniquely bonding experience. That work can be anything from digging wells in Africa to praying together for someone in need. It can’t be done well if we are dealing with unnecessary items that distract us from the task at hand. Jesus teaches us again and again that we don’t need possessions. Even more he teaches us we need each other.

Evening readings: Psalms 28; 99

Worthy

Today’s readings: Psalms 57; 145, Isaiah 48:1-11, Galatians 1:1-17,  Mark 5:21-43

Every one of us feels insecure about something. Perhaps it's our physical appearance. Our weight. Our ability. Our lovability. Our faith. Secrets we keep. Secrets we can't keep. Things we've done. Things we've left undone. Sadly, human beings have an infinite capacity for reasons to feel insecure. Left to fester, feelings of insecurity can quickly grow into feelings of unworthiness. Do we know anyone who feels unworthy to be loved by themselves, by others, or even by God? Where do we get these ideas we might be unworthy?

In today's gospel story, a woman who suffered with a hemorrhage for twelve years touched Jesus's robe and was healed by her faith. Under Levitical law, this woman was unclean, and therefore unworthy of touching a rabbi like Jesus. Societal norms might have kept her from being healed, but Jesus had no words of rebuke for her – only words of praise for her faith. As the incarnation of the divine, Jesus demonstrated unworthiness is a concept we use to hold each other back but it places no limitations on God's love for us. We must never let anyone tell us differently.

Other times feelings of unworthiness spring from actions we have taken and lives we have led. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul reminds them that before he evangelized for Christ, he was a murderer of Christians – surely a matter of no small regret. He also points out that once God chose him, he "did not confer with any human being" (Gal 1:16) but set directly about his calling. We learn at least two things from his experience. First, we are worthy because God tells us so, not because we or someone else decides it. Second, we don't have to wait for the approval of others to behave as though we are worthy: if that were the case, Paul would never have gotten started!

If God felt a notorious murderer of Christians was worthy of being their greatest evangelist, how much ego does it take to believe our small offenses make us unworthy of God's love? When we don't have faith in our own worthiness, let's remember our God has faith in us!

Evening readings: Psalms 85; 47