On Sunday I heard one of my favorite verses from the Old Testament. It's one of those stories that you hear and say "dang! that's good. Where is that from again?"
So in good Bible quoting style, I open the scriptures to 1Kings, chapter 19. Here we find the prophet Elijah hiding on the top of a mountain.
On a giant tangent, when I received my first communion in second grade, I remember standing in the line waiting to head into the church, and my 2nd grade crush was standing next to me and asked me this question, "Aires, do you like my hair up or down?" Now, my young self had no idea what she was talking about. Up or down? What does that even mean? Unsure of myself, I said "down?" She reached up to her hair, and took it out of the bun and shook her hair out. It seemed to cascade down in slow motion. I remember thinking "whoa." Yea, I don't know what that is, but I like it....
Her name: Elijah.
I digress.
So the prophet Elijah is hiding in a cave because his enemies would have him dead. So he stayed in the cave and waited for the LORD to appear. There was a strong wind, an earthquake, and then fire, but God was not in any of those things.
FIRST off, if even one of those things happened to me, I would be freaking out. But my man Elijah had all of these happen to him successively, while hiding in a cave. That would have broken me. But I am not the great prophet.
So Elijah in his wisdom knows that those amazing and terrifying events are not God and he continues to wait. His patience and faith is rewarded, because sure enough, God does come, in the form of a whisper. In the presence of this whisper, Elijah hides his face because even the thought of being face to face with the whisper of God is enough to shake the man to his core.
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This Sunday I attended mass at my wifey's work and the deacon was preaching on the readings. He did a skillful job of weaving Sunday's powerful readings of encountering God with the challenging and disturbing events that happened over the weekend, where white supremacists and Neo-nazi's, emboldened by our current political environment, rallied in Charlottesville and the result was the death of an innocent woman, injuries to others, and a country divided on the issue of race.
At times I feel powerless against the rising tide of hatred and bigotry that is growing and being emboldened in this country. As a person of color, as a person who has faced discrimination based on nothing more than my skin color, I find this so disturbing and disgusting. It feels like a huge wind breaking rocks, an earthquake, and a fire, all rolled into one. And God is not in these things.
The deacon brought us back to the reading from 1Kings 19. God is in the tiny whispering sound. At times, our actions to create positive change in the world feel meaningless in the face of structures of evil and injustice. So what can we do? We can imitate the God who loves us and made each of us in his own image; every single one of us. We can listen to the whisper, and be the whisper.
Violence begets violence. Anger begets anger. I can get angry at the injustice that I perceive in the world today. and that anger will only birth more anger within myself, and may spread to my children, and those I minister with and to. Instead, I need to respond the way Jesus has called me, how he has shown me. I need to step out onto the water with him, and do the impossible with him. I need to answer in love, as he did.
Bringing love into the world, by small acts of kindness, by truly journeying and listening to the other, by trying to understand and break the cycles of sin and despair is to whisper into the loud and angry shouting of hatred in the world.
The challenge is not to lose ourselves in these trying times, but rather be even more of our true selves. We are called to be God's children, to share his light. Though we are shaken by the events of the weekend, and we mourn for those who have lost their lives, and see hatred and anger around us, we are called to bring light and healing to those situations.
A wise person once said (because I can't remember who actually said this) that pain that isn't transformed is transferred. If we can meet our brother and sister and meet their pain, hopefully we can be part of the transformation of that pain. If not, then all of us will be effected by this pain.
So my whisper into the world today is here in this post. I do not wish to transfer my pain to you. I pray that instead it is transformed into a deeper commitment to justice and love. And in that whisper, I hope to meet God.
AP
