​When we moved in there was a couple living across the hall.  She was small, strong, determined, and fiercely loyal to her husband.  He was in a wheelchair, could only grunt, and his body was ravaged by Parkinson's.  He died last week, and suddenly all of Columbia was talking about him.  Professor of Sociology. Strong advocate for peace with justice.  Leader in every movement to stand beside the marginalized and oppressed for 50 years or so. He was a leader in his church, and a mentor to many in the community.  People wrote letters in newspapers, on Facebook, and on his Obituary Page online.  All I knew was he was in a wheelchair, couldn't talk, loved fried zucchini, and hated having to move to Assisted Living when his wife became unable to lift him.  I often become frustrated not knowing who these people were before they came here.  A lot of Professors, a Professional Football player, phenomenal musicians, and Mel West.  I was in a conversation the other day with a man who not only knew about, but was actively involved with many of the projects my dad worked on.  We enjoyed conversing with someone else who understood what we were each talking about.

Jesus met and interacted with many people who had been labeled by their communities: The whore, the tax collector, the Scribe, the Roman Soldier, the leper, etc.  He looked beyond the reality of their current situation to the person within.  He talked with them, he got to know the person behind the label.  Where I live he would see beyond the Parkinson's guy in the wheelchair, the wanderer, the really grumpy old guy, the woman who never smiles, the woman who introduces herself to you every time you meet--even if its only been 5 minutes.  He would take the time to sit down and listen as they talked about their past, their path, their hopes and dreams.  It is the least we owe to those around us: to drop the labels and get to know the person, to honor the person, to hear the person, to love the person.


God, who sees through the labels and the outward appearance to the person within, we rejoice that in seeing us for who we really are, you love us.  You know our hopes and dreams.  You know our failures and foibles.  You know our fears and faults.  You know how very much we want to be a part of helping your reality to come to pass.  Help us also to do that with and for the people around us, so that they might see and feel your love through us.......Amen.

​Jesus Wept.

It's been a bit over a year since my surgery, and I'm not fully on my feet, yet.  That's frustrating, but I'm still making progress, so it's all good.  But I noticed something about a month ago.  I watched a news broadcast, and tears began to stream down my face.  I am a notorious crier.  I cry when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm frustrated, when in the presence of injustice, when proud, when angry.  But when I cried that day I realized that, other than for pain, I hadn't done my normal crying for more than a year.  I don't know if I was in shock, or if I just held so tightly to my feelings in order not to explode, that I couldn't let myself feel anything.  But now...I weep.

I weep for my church.  For those who are hurt, for those who are left out, for those who are confused, for those who don't understand, for what we were, for what we are, for what we may be becoming.  I weep for school children.  Most schools have 180 days in their school year.  There are approximately 20 more left.  That leaves ~160 days.  There have so far been 132 school shootings this school year.  That's nearly one per day.  How can our children relax and learn when they are always listening for the sound of gunfire, or watching their classmates wondering who will be the next to snap.  I weep for our country in which up seems to be down, in is out, good is bad, and everyone lies.  Everyone seems to snap at each other without listening, without reading, without checking to see if they are truly understanding what the other meant.  I weep for friends and family facing the end of life.  Yes, we all die, but for some the end of the journey is known and approaching.  I appreciate the grace they, and their families, are showing, but the leaving is difficult, as well as the letting go.  Every day something new comes into my space, and I weep.  I missed it when it wasn't happening, and yet for now it feels overwhelming.


God who weeps, we know that while incarnate among us you fully understood what it was to live our lives.  You felt joy and sorrow, fear and frustration, elation and dejection, loyalty and betrayal, life and death.  You have given us emotions and empathy, and yet at times both can be overwhelming.  Help us to parse out those things around us with which we can interact and make a difference.  Let us feel sorrow, but not be paralyzed by the enormity of the world's needs.  Give us the grace we need to share your love with those who need it, and to receive your love when we are the ones in need......Amen