Embracing Complexity - Navigating Grief and Celebration
Beloved Church -
This week is one where I am reminded of the both/and-ness of life - the grief and the beauty, the goodness and the violence, the hard and the joyful parts of sharing life together as Jesus followers.
Our news is full of reports of bombings and genocide in Gaza; of starvation and civil unrest in Congo, Sudan, Haiti, and war in Ukraine; of public figures talking about repealing or challenging all manner of justice work related to civil rights, women’s rights, trans rights, etc.; and this past week marked 4 years since the death of George Floyd. It’s collective, global, national, and personal loss and injustice, layers of grief all around us. I also had a close friend and mentor pass away, after 75 yrs of leading, serving, advocating, and changing the church and multiple communities. I’ve been reminded of all the ways that his witness changed my life and so many others when we were ready to give up on the church - it was authentic faith being lived out by trailblazers like Bishop Jerome Nelson who kept me choosing hope, that together, the church really could do better, be healthier, impact people and communities. My heart feels heavy and grateful as I remember and honor his life, and as I witness the other layers of grief all around us this season.
I am also aware of so many places of life and energy, new growth in the garden and sunny and rainy days that bring late night and weekend grill outs. School is almost out for families, colleges celebrated graduations, and the patios and rooftops are open along Near North restaurant locales. This coming Sunday we’ll get to gather for a time of worship and welcoming in six new members, honoring our past and upcoming Elders, and volunteers, and then having our Annual Meeting and Banquet meal together. The following week we get to celebrate baptisms with two of our youth and remember our own baptisms, along with honoring our graduates! It is a season of celebrating and honor in many ways - our recent holiday weekend gave us added time for family and rest over Sabbath Sunday weekend, and reminded us to honor those who have sacrificed for our country.
I was also reminded that the very first Memorial Day was actually held by newly-freed African Americans in Charleston, SC; more than 10,000 formerly enslaved people, along with white missionaries, held a parade and decorated soldiers’ graves. The roots of our national story are so often a both/and reality themselves - places of deep pain and grief that remain and shape the present, alongside testimonies of strength and restoration, giving us glimpses of what to hope for.
Life is like that so often, church; the news and also everyday life, is a both/and reality that requires hope and grief, celebration and rest, honor and pain. In 1961 author James Baldwin shared the following oft-quoted truth, which still speaks to our present day:
To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost, almost all of the time — and in one's work. And part of the rage is this: It isn't only what is happening to you. But it's what's happening all around you and all of the time in the face of the most extraordinary and criminal indifference, indifference of most white people in this country, and their ignorance. Now, since this is so, it's a great temptation to simplify the issues under the illusion that if you simplify them enough, people will recognize them. I think this illusion is very dangerous because, in fact, it isn't the way it works. A complex thing can't be made simple. You simply have to try to deal with it in all its complexity and hope to get that complexity across.
Beloved, life is complex, messy, and beautiful. Faith in a violent, unjust world is complex. And walking with one another through seasons of life as a church, as a community, requires strength, patience, hospitality, trust, and vision. I am praying that each of us, in our own stories and places of holding the both/and of life, know that we can fully, truly belong together in the Body of Christ. Not because we have all the answers, or can simplify the truly difficult, or that we even all agree on everything; but because God has gathered us up into Godself, with More Than Enough love, hope, and faith to sustain us all. If you’re needing to borrow someone else’s hope today, lean into the Body. If you need prayer or support, let us know. And if you need hope today - borrow some of mine. I still have hope that together, we’re better then alone; that we can walk through the complexities of life as people of faith who can grieve with those grieving, and rejoice with those rejoicing; and that we can keep learning how to become, get more free, and try again, as we follow the Holy Spirit - together!
With deep hope and deep grief this week - Rev Liz