Ponderings

My tree was radiant last Thursday, today its leaves are more brittle and a burnt shade of orange. Next week I suspect they will have become a carpet. This is September weather in Michigan, and I continue to revel in the wonder of Missouri autumn. And as we head into a pivotal election week, I find great comfort in the immutable promise to which this tree bears witness.

I confess that I am anxious about this election. I’m troubled by what one member called a “general malaise” that has drugged our nation and I am absolutely disheartened by the role that the church has played (the church universal, not our local church). The nervousness bubbles from a very real and not altogether unreasonable place of fear; the economy seems precarious, the war knows no ending, and the so-called culture wars are destroying us. Recently I had the opportunity to hear Robin Meyers, UCC pastor (Oklahoma City) and author of “Why the Christian Right is Wrong”. Voices playing on our fear, Meyers reminded us, are not voices of faith because faith is the antidote to fear. Although I agree with Meyers, I also know that fear plays an energizing role. Without that edge will we have the motivation and stamina to speak truth to power? Barak Obama, another UCC voice pointing beyond the fear, titled his new book “The Audacity of Hope”. Wynn said the title alone was worth the cost of the book. I agree. Hope is audacious, and rare.

Pondering the dearth of hope in the shadow of my tree, I began to consider the places I’ve witnessed hope in recent months right here in our congregation. I see hope in Brad Ketcher’s quiet determination. Brad is a political strategist committed to the common good, spearheading projects like Missouri Cures. On Wednesday morning, regardless of Tuesday’s numbers, Brad will get up and continue working. And Brad’s persistence reminds me of Lewis’. Lewis Wall, doctor and anthropologist, embodies hope for the young women in West Africa ostracized with childbirth complications. In and around the senseless warring that plagues this region, Lewis travels, speaks, and lobbies on behalf of healing (www.wfmic.org). This same dogged hope is what I see in Matt Varnon who spends his weekdays teaching middle school in the city, his Sunday’s teaching high school at church, and his elusive ‘free time’ leading our Servant Ministry Team. As I look around our congregation, I see innumerable examples of audacious hope.

Wednesday morning the sun will rise and the people of God will continue to do the work of bringing God’s good news of justice and healing. Although our votes make a huge difference in the ease of this mission, God’s compassion will continue to be embodied by committed saints long after the pundits stop talking. As I hear the crunch of the leaves, I am reminded that last year’s leaves are this year’s mulch and the bulbs of spring are not far in the offing; in this I have hope.