November 18, 2024
Happy Monday, my friends! For most of us who were raised in the church and have heard and read the Gospels more than a few times, the word can seem sterile. Yes, the Gospels are hardly an action thriller, but when we look closely and read between the lines, we find a depth of emotion. One of my friends and colleagues once preached on Matthew 14:13-21 (the feeding of the 5,000). She situated the passage in the context of what comes right before it: the death of John the Baptist. Remember, John is the son of Mary’s cousin Elizabeth making him Jesus’ first cousin once removed. Indeed, it is John who proclaims the coming of Jesus as the messiah and it is John who baptizes Jesus in the Jordan. Jesus and John are linked even before their respective births (see Luke 1:39-55). So, when Matthew’s Gospel tells us that “[John’s] disciples came and took the body and buried him; then they went and told Jesus. Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself” (14:12-13), we can understand the depth of Jesus’ grief and the emotional pain the news must have caused him.
Many of us are experiencing profound grief right now. That grief is intertwined with anger, anxiety, and a host of other emotions. The world isn’t just screwed up, it’s fucked up. It’s easy to be emotionally wearied just from looking at the news. Some of us have begun preparing for the worst-case scenarios where we will need to move to other states or other countries to escape the dehumanizing laws being passed here in Ohio and elsewhere and even more laws being proposed. We’re wondering what an autocratic and authoritarian government will look like in the United States. We watch as a man investigated by the Justice Department is nominated as Attorney General and a man who believes in junk science around vaccines and HIV is nominated as the Secretary of Health and Human Services. Others of us are living into the reality that things will get worse and our role as advocates and activists is not going to be about stopping it from getting worse, but blunting how bad it will be.
I’ve been trying to take care of myself and have been handling my emotions as best as I can, but on Friday someone said something which struck the nerve that had nothing left. I broke down. All I could do is cuddle in bed with my dog. Whatever and wherever are our deserted places where we go to be alone, we need them and we need the many other unique ways we each process, grieve, and care for ourselves.
What are you grieving? How are you grieving?
Let us pray: God, we have no idea where we are going. We do not see the road ahead. We cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do we really know ourselves, and the fact that we think we’re following your will does not mean that we’re actually doing so. But we believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And we hope we have that desire in all that we’re doing. We hope that we will never do anything apart from that desire. And we know that if we do this you will lead us by the right road, though we may know nothing about it. Therefore, will we trust you always though we may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. We will not fear, for you are ever with us, and you will never leave us to face our perils alone. (Adapted from a prayer by Thomas Merton.)
Blessings on your weeks, my friends! Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.
Faithfully,
Ben
PS. Occasionally, I start writing and nothing comes of the draft, but I save all of them in the hopes that someday I can go back to it and use it in another context. Today’s Monday Moment started as a draft for August 7, 2023.
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