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Sunday, May 29, 2022

"Here We Are Again"


Philippians 2:1-13

Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

May 29, 2022


This is one of those weeks where every single preacher I know is feeling inadequate. How do we make sense of the evil in our world? Is that even possible?


Every parent I know is also feeling inadequate. How do we talk with our kids about the news? How do we keep them safe? 


Actually, most humans I’ve talked to this week are feeling pretty inadequate across the board. 


How do we keep coping when we haven’t even had time to process one heinous act of violence and hatred and another one follows on its heels? What do we do with our anxiety? Our anger? Our helplessness? 


Those are the emotions that keep echoing around the tables I’ve been at this week: anxiety, anger, helplessness. And those are the emotions that keep coming up over and over again every time we have to replay this whole sick scene. 


What do we do with our anger? What do we do when it feels like we’re screaming into the void? 


We’re enraged because it’s ridiculous to live in a country that wants to “protect” schoolchildren from “scary books” and “CRT” but refuses to enact common-sense gun legislation.. We yell because some say this is just a “mental health problem” but refuse to fund access to ANY kind of health care in this country, let alone mental health care. We’re outraged because politicians and pundits try to convince us that we’re inexplicably supposed to be scared of transgender kids. And those of us with uteruses tend to get especially hot when we realize that the government wants to tell us what we can and can’t do with our bodies but won’t limit access to lethal weapons one iota. 


I could go on and on. And I have. Because it’s okay to be angry about all of this. It really is. 


Most of us weren’t taught to welcome our anger. And to let it teach us. I’ve been learning to envision anger like the little dude in the movie Inside Out. 


When he arrives, I listen to Anger yell for a while and watch the flames burst out of his head. And then, when the time feels right, I ask him, “What are you here to teach me?” And I try to listen. 


Sometimes Anger says, “It’s time to DO something, friend.”. Anger can fuel us into positive action. We can join a group that’s organizing for change. We can donate our time or money. We can call our elected officials again. We can write a note of encouragement to someone who is struggling. We can spend time with a child. We can connect with other humans and share a laugh or a good cry. We can DO something rather than just yell into an echo-chamber.


When I’m listening to Anger, I try to also invite Valerie Kaur into that space, too. Remember her from our sermon series on Revolutionary Love? She reminds us that “Divine rage is fierce, disciplined, and visionary….The aim of divine rage is not vengeance but to reorder the world.” Kaur says that anger is “...a rhythm: Step away to rage, return to listen, and reimagine the solutions together. It becomes a kind of dance – to release raw rage in a safe container, in order to send divine rage into the world, like focused fury. The way of the warrior-sage is not only loving-kindness but loving-revolution, or revolutionary love.” [1]


It is my prayer for all of us that we can find ways to harness the power of anger in the ways that Kaur so eloquently explains and Jesus so beautifully lived. That we possess our anger as just one part of us - a useful part of us - rather than allow it to possess us. 


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What do we do with our anxiety? What do we do when the worst-case-scenarios we’ve been running through in our heads actually start to seem like they aren’t that impossible?


Many of us turn to prayer to help us through our anxieties and fears. We offer them to God and find relief in knowing that we don’t carry these burdens alone. 


We carry around songs and Bible verses and favorite prayers in our head, relying on them like mantras, saying them over and over again when the fears won’t subside. 


One of the most helpful things anyone has ever told me about anxiety came through the ministry of my therapist, who has put up with my anxious shenanigans for years now and is absolutely God at work in my life. She taught me that ruminating actually isn’t helpful. 


Now if you don’t have an anxiety disorder you might be thinking, “DUH.” But if you’re like me, you might find yourself saying, “HUH?”


I’ve been a ruminator for my entire life, so it’s a real struggle to kick the habit. But she taught me to try this: ask yourself, “Is this a problem or a worry?” 


Problems are something we can DO something about. So we look at the issue and see if there’s some action we can take. Then we take that action or work towards taking that action. And….that’s it. If the anxiety about it comes up again, we remind ourselves we’ve already done what we can do and we try to put it aside. 


If we’ve already done what we can do or if there’s nothing we can do, then it’s a worry. And turning it over and over (and over and over and over) isn’t actually helpful.


Side note: I realize I am making this sound easier than it is. I know it’s not easy. I’m still working on it every day. Thank God we aren’t working through it alone. If you need help finding a therapist, please let me know.


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What do we do with our helplessness? When we’ve listened to our anger and channeled it into action….but everything’s still messed up? When we’ve sorted through our problems vs. worries and done what we can do…but it never seems to be enough? What do we do when we start to feel like we’re losing hope?


Paul spent a lot of his life in prison, and he was in prison when he wrote this letter. We can hardly imagine a place where a person feels more helpless and hopeless than in prison, right? And yet, these are not the words of a man who feels helpless or hopeless:


“If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete.” 


And he goes on to offer words of hope to his friends, “Be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind….Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”


Paul never stopped seeking the mind of Christ. Paul never stopped desiring to become more and more like the Spirit of God living and breathing and moving among us. 


Paul reminded us that we all have the incredible gift of opening ourselves to be of one mind, one spirit, one love with Christ. And he goes on to remind us that Christ is the one who came to us, not to abuse his power, but to be a servant to God just as we are. Jesus gave up his privilege and power - emptying himself to remind us that God knows what it’s like to feel imprisoned, trapped, afraid, angry, hurt. 


Paul speaks frankly about the evil in the world. He doesn’t sugar coat the sickening violence that Jesus endured. And yet, even in this midst of all of that, and even while in prison, he dares to speak of joy. 


Reading these ancient words of joy from a prison cell reminded me of a sermon a dear friend of mine preached the Sunday immediately after Sandy Hook. Two days after that most horrific of days when we were all still reeling. It was the third Sunday in Advent: the Sunday with the pink candle. 


The Sunday for joy. 


The text that day was from the book of Zephaniah. The Rev. Jennifer Mills-Knutsen explained to her congregation that most of the book is all about the pain of the world, the horror, the terror - and how God is present with us in the midst of it, grieving and lamenting along side us. 


Jennifer said that it’s only in the last few verses of the book that Zephaniah “slowly, gently…dares invoke joy.” Like Paul, he’s just feeling his way towards it. 


She said:


The turning point comes when, again speaking for God, he says, “Wait for me. Wait for the day when I rise up.” Not now. Not yet. Not joy realized, but joy promised. Not joy fulfilled, but joy awaiting. Zephaniah does not declare that everything is alright, or even that it will be alright again soon. Nothing about dead children is ever alright, whether two days or 2600 years ago, whether caused by a mass shooting or an abusive king, or war, or famine, or bullying, or addiction, or suicide, or cancer, or anything else. He does not tell us to get over it, move on, or be happy. The prophet speaks of joy because he wants us to know that in spite of it all, God still reigns. 


How dare he speak of joy in the face of such tragedy? How dare he not.


How dare any preacher or prophet let us think for one moment that God’s promised joy risks being snuffed out by any evil this world could ever display. How dare anyone think that any barrier this world could construct, any horror that evil might imagine could ever, ever stop God coming to us, embracing our children in their time of terror, comforting our broken hearts, and leading us forward into healing and, yes, even again, someday, to joy. [2]


And so, beloveds, as we sit with our anger and our fear - as we resolve to act and keep acting - let us also be bold to join in praying alongside Paul and Zephaniah and Jennifer that our joy might be made complete. 


Not now. Not yet. 


But we need the promise of joy, God. We need your hope to be born among us, still. 


Embrace all your children in this time of terror. Comfort broken hearts. Lead us forward into healing. 


And don’t let us lose sight of your promised joy. 


Amen. 



NOTES:

[1] Kaur, Valarie. See No Stranger, chapter 4: Rage. 

[2] Sermon by the Rev. Jennifer Mills-Knutsen, unpublished. Dec 16, 2012. 



Recommended Reading


On processing difficult emotions - as individuals and in community:

The Power of Focusing by Ann Weiser Cornell

What Happened to You? Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing by Bruce D. Perry and Oprah Winfrey


On using anger in life-giving ways:

See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love by Valarie Kaur 

Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger by Rebecca Traister

This is an Uprising: How Non-Violent Revolt is Shaping the 21st Century by Mark and Paul Engler


On stubbornly seeking joy and healing and freedom in the midst of all the mess: 

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman

The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World by Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama


On staying connected in a world where it’s all-too-easy to isolate:

All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks

Together: Why Social Connection Holds the Key to Better Health, Higher Performance, and Greater Happiness by Vivek Murthy


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