Bearing Witness to the Loving Presence of God

October 1, 2024
Beloved:
          On Sunday we prayed for the mother of a Baptist minister in Tennessee. The mother was missing in the hurricane’s aftermath.  Her body was identified later that same day, along with at least 130 other people known to have died in the storm.  Many hundreds more are still unaccounted for and the devastation in   Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina is still hard to fathom, even as we see it before our eyes in the news stories.  At the same time, the helpers are showing up like an army.  The best thing I read this morning is this: 

Volunteers were showing up, too.  Mike Toberer decided to bring a dozen of his mules to deliver food, water and diapers to hard-to-reach mountainous areas.  “We’ll take our chainsaws, and we’ll push those mules through,” he said, noting that each one can carry about 200 pounds (90 kilograms) of supplies.

          Folks figuring out what they can do with what they have to help neighbors in trouble.

          Further away, a war is widening, displacing more and more people, killing not a few, proving true the words of an American Civil War general, Ulysses Grant, that women and children always bear the greatest cost of war.  We know about the bombed-out apartment buildings and schools.  This morning's news carried a photo of a child sleeping in a car trunk, her family trying to get away from the violence.  In Sudan people are dying of cholera and facing an unprecedented famine, because starvation has become a weapon of war.

           While here, on my tiny patch of planet, my heart hurts for all this suffering and I’ve no idea what I am supposed to do about it all.  I could drive to Tennessee and show up at a feeding station I suppose, sans the mules of course, hoping not to be in the way of those who know what they’re doing.  Or stay here and pray. And give.  And keep my patch of planet tidy.  And then pray some more, knowing it is no small thing to be in spiritual community with our neighbors who are struggling, grieving and afraid.  I know well the power of distant community loving me by praying for me, by holding me in their heart when it’s hard for me to keep hope.  This is the human experience, to be present in spirit when we cannot be together in the flesh, as the scriptures so often repeat.  Maybe my ache to be present in body is more for my own relief than someone else’s, relief from the irritation of helplessness.  For now I’ll stay put and pray, and leave the in-person helping to Mr. Toberer and the others who know what they’re doing.  I’ll pick up sticks and snow shovel the 5000 ankle-breaking acorns and keep my bird feeders full.  I’ll speak kindly to my neighbors, help the ones who let me help and receive what help they offer.  I’ll do my best to hold prayerful space for people everywhere experiencing disasters of one kind or another.  And finally, come Sunday I’ll attend this local vigil walk meant to convey our common hope for peace and healing in our community and the world.  I’m grateful for its organizers and I hope you’ll come too.  Details are below.

          The world is not all bad news, not by a long shot.  But these are tough days for so many people close to us – it bears remembering our calling to bear witness to the loving presence of God, in word and in deed.  I am grateful for your partnership in the work.
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~peace & prayers,
pastor annette