“Perplexed, but Not in Despair” based on 2 Corinthians 4:7-12 Luke 7:18-23

I have had an unexpected number of conversations about gun violence recently. I guess unexpected because the regularity of gun violence in our society means many of the conversations that can be had, have been had, and often there doesn’t feel like there is much more to say. I have tended to agree with the sentiment that if nothing happened after Sandy Hook, chances are pretty low for change. That doesn’t mean I’m not still engaged in trying, just… I’ve been feeling pretty resigned.

Yet, conversations bubbled up this week. In one, a friend reflected on the skin tones of members of her family and wondered if they were dark enough to be seen as threats. (She would prefer that I also say, she doesn’t want ANYONE killed by guns.) As you might expect, the answers to her questions are not the ones we’d like them to be.

Another person shared about being in a school lock down, this week, while actively caring for students with special needs, who were simply terrified. So was she. She wondered about if she should let her children leave her house ever again.

Yet another conversation was with a young mother in Nashville, a woman whose office for a decade looked out over the Covenant school. Beloveds of God, she was the one with hope. She spent the last month at protests and sit ins in the Tennessee Capitol, working with others to advocate for red flag laws and other reasonable protections, which was at least successful enough that the legislature shut down their session rather than deal with the daily protests. She talked about gerrymandering, and lack of democracy, and a sense that the national medial presented Tennessee as a broken wasteland.

And then she said, “There is hope.” She pointed out that Tennessee is where change has happened, historically, which I frankly didn’t know. Women and their allies mobilized a massive campaign in TN, with incredibly intentional internationality around race and gender, and got the 19th Amendment to the US constitution passed through the TN General Assembly which ratified it as an amendment. She pointed out that because of the FOUR Historically Black Colleges and Universities in Nashville, change has started there. Nashville was so important to the Civil Rights Movement that Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said “’I came to Nashville not to bring inspiration, but to gain inspiration from the great movement that has taken place in this community.’

The late civil rights leader recognized the vast activism and steadfastness that rang throughout the city as students protested at lunch counters and intellectuals traveled to Fisk University to band together and fight for justice. As Martin Luther King Day approaches, we wanted to take a moment to reflect on Dr. King’s legacy of motivation and valor in the historic city of Nashville.”1

My friend and colleague said that change needs to start in the South, and Nashville is uniquely poised, and those who have been organizing are ready to keep going, and they are not going to let up.

I didn’t expect to find hope with the one I know closest to the pain, but maybe that’s an error on my part. It certainly fits what we heard in 2Corinthians, “In every way we are oppressed, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; knocked down but not destroyed; always bearing forth in the body the death of Jesus, in order that the life of Jesus might also be revealed in our bodies.” (2 Corinthians 4:8-10) Those closest to the destruction, the death, the horror, the brokenness are also the ones who have been able to feel the Spirit moving within them to bring change. They are NOT crushed, they’re motivated. They are NOT in despair, they’re channeling their anger. They have seen death, seen the death of members of the body of Christ, and they are letting God use them to move the state and the country towards life.

And the actions taken by activists, faith leaders, and every day people in Nashville and in TN has ended up kicking me in the pants too. They’ve reminded me of the power of hope. They’ve reminded me of the power of God.

Then, I heard a phrase worth sharing from the Rev. Dionne Boissiere, Chaplain of the Church Center for the United Nations. She said, ‘The faithfulness of God has nothing to do with the recklessness of humanity.” So, when we’re just frustrated beyond anything with the recklessness of humanity, we can rest assured that EVEN THAT can’t stop God over the long run.

Now, this doesn’t change the horrors of gun violence or violence in our society. There is still work to be done, and it still needs to be done. But work done with HOPE and with GOD is really different than drudgery.

The hope we’re talking about is the resurrection narrative itself. That death doesn’t have the final word, that LOVE does. That even when the worst things happen, they aren’t the end of hope. That good can grow, even out of bad. That life has a power and a force of its own, and while it may have to change course to avoid dead-ends, it keeps going. That injustice may have a stronghold, but it is not impenetrable. That … well, we may be oppressed but we are not crushed. That HOPE may be knocked down, but it cannot be destroyed. That love cannot be stopped.

Luke takes this on with slightly different metaphors, ones based in Isaiah, ones that I am a little less comfortable with because I have learned a lot from people who live with disabilities. One of the things I’ve learned is that for some the metaphors of “healing” are painful because they wish for “healing” that doesn’t ever come to them. To others the metaphors of “healing” are painful because it implies they are broken or less than, and they experiences themselves as whole and full – blessed in a different way. This awareness itself is a blessing, one that comes from being in an era with technological and medical capacities to support people with many different needs and many different capabilities.

In any case, I hear even better news from 2 Corinthians today, than Luke, which is a fun change of pace for me.

This week is an interesting one, if things go according to plan this is the last sermon I am pre-recording in my attic (before we moved, in the spare bedroom). I’ve preached 4 Easter sermons this way, and pre-recorded for 38 months. I don’t care to calculate how many sermons that is. Next week we expect Livesteaming to be up and running, and I’ll just preach one sermon and it will be recorded from worship which sounds …. weird at this point.

Also, this is one of the signs that the world which turned upside down in March of 2020 is in a different place now. I’m not claiming all is well, and I’m well aware that what used to be normal will never be again. But we are worshipping in person, we are about to have the technology to include people at home in real time (YAY inclusion), and we are entering what I expect may be a long term new normal.

Friends, that’s hopeful.

Next Sunday, as well, I won’t be preaching because Bishop Karen Oliveto will be in Schenectady, sharing the Good News of God. We invited her to join us in 2020 as the start of our 25 year reconciling celebration, and here it is 2023 and we’re delighted to celebrate our 27th year of being reconciling. In fact, we’re so excited that we’re going to spend May AND June talking about God’s work of love and inclusion, the incredible ways God’s love has been experienced, and the commitments we have to keep on working with God until all God’s people can be welcomed and CELEBRATED in God’s churches.

Friends, that’s hopeful. Especially for all the people out there who need that good news and haven’t heard that people of God who call themselves Jesus followers know about the expansive nature of God’s love.

I hope that the inner parts of your being are perking up a little bit at these mentions of God’s hope and love. That they too hear that oppression can’t crush us, nor break us. That even death can’t stop the work God is up to in the world. That nothing, nothing, NOTHING can stop the love of God.

That “death is at work in us, but life in you all.” Life is at work in us. Life is at work in the world. We can have hope, because of God.

Thanks be to God.

Amen

1https://urbaanite.com/mlk-nashville-nashville-speeches/

Rev. Sara E. Baron 
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 
Pronouns: she/her/hers 
http://fumcschenectady.org/ 
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

April 30, 2023