A place at the table…?

“For everyone born, a place at the table…”

That’s the first line of a hymn that I love…and that I also struggle with. It’s a wonderful goal–but how do we make it true for everyone?

I realize that I can sing it fairly easily because I have never had to deal with the aftermath of sexual assault or other forms of violence. That’s my privilege. But because I have that privilege, I also have a responsibility to be aware of others who are not as fortunate.

How do we make the table a safe place for someone who was sexually abused–and who often finds themselves sitting with their abuser? Are we prioritizing the comfort of the abuser over that of their victim(s)? What about those who have been victims of violence?

I realize that sometimes situations are not black and white. Not all people on the sexual predator list are dangerous (and please note, I am not ignoring the fact that many are). Some men find themselves on that last because when they were 18 or 19, they had sex with their 15- or 16-year old girlfriend–which could result in a charge of statutory rape. Others may have been involved in a nasty divorce with “he said / she said” issues. Are we comfortable allowing them a place at the table?

Yes, there are situations where those who have been abusers (whatever form that abuse has taken) have changed. But that doesn’t change the impact that their actions had on the individuals they abused.

Far too often, it seems that we expect an abused individual to “be the bigger person”…to forgive and forget. But that doesn’t make the table a safe place for them–and I don’t think that’s what the goal of this hymn is.

I do want to have a table where all are welcome. I don’t want to have to remove anyone. But neither do I want individuals to feel unsafe and unwelcome because of who I might ask them to sit with.

There are so many questions. Do I need more than one table? Do I insist that everyone has the right to sit wherever they want, regardless of their past behaviors? Do I believe that “forgiveness” resolves all issues and the past should be forgotten?

So I sing this hymn…and I struggle.

Unity in diversity

My faith tradition has several enduring principles…short statements that try to catch up in a nutshell what our focus should be as we attempt to live out our faith.

One of those principles is unity in diversity. That’s been a challenging one for many who wonder how there can be unity if we accept diversity in various forms. This is especially true when there are widely divergent views on some issues based on culture and geography.

I thought of that this morning when I read the morning sharing from Steven Charleston on Facebook. For those who may not be familiar with him, he is an Native American elder and a retired Episcopal bishop. Each morning he spends time in meditation and shares the thoughts that come to him in a way that allows people from a variety of traditions to find meaning in them.

This was what he shared this morning:

We are one in heart and many in mind. Spiritual unity is possible when people do not have to agree with one another to love one another. Our kindness, compassion and support come from the heart as we live together in peace. At the same time, our ideas, visions and opinions may vary widely as we continue our creative work together for the common good. We are one in heart and many in mind.

We don’t have to think alike. We don’t have to act alike. We don’t even have to believe alike to have unity if we truly love one another.

Since I am a follower of Jesus, that is where my perspective comes from…and I believe that was the focus of Jesus’ response when he was asked what the greatest commandment was. He said that the greatest one was to love God with all our being, but he didn’t stop there. He went on to say that the second one was similar–to love our fellow human beings as we love ourselves.

We can delight in our diversity…and at the same time we can also live in unity. It’s not necessarily going to be easy–but it’s the only way.

To everything there is a season…

Back in 1965 The Byrds released a song that I loved…and it’s a song that’s been running through my mind this last couple of days. Its title was “Turn! Turn! Turn!” and the words came directly from the writer known as the Teacher in the Bible (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8):

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

We go through the seasons of life in so many ways–spring / summer / fall / winter…infancy / childhood / youth / adulthood / senior age…and even in these seasons, there are “mini-seasons” that we experience.

For many right now, this is a time to mourn. We mourn the violence and hatred towards “the other.” We mourn the senseless loss of life through war. We mourn the loss of loved ones. We mourn the loss of homes due to weather-related situations. We mourn the loss of beloved places and artifacts in a faith community.

And yet this scripture…this song…can also bring hope. We will not stay stuck in a particular season, but the seasons will turn; they will change.

There will be a time of healing…a time when we will be able to dance again. There will be a time to embrace each other…a time of peace.

Living through the dark seasons is difficult and challenging. But the seasons will turn.

 

Time to let go

One of the challenges–and sometimes a perk–of getting older is that you realize that it’s time to let go of items and events.

Sometimes that’s pretty easy. You discover that what seemed so important at one point no longer holds the same meaning for you. Or you discover that you are tired of having so much “stuff” in the house to dust and vacuum around. You may find that the events that kept you so busy for so long now take up time that you want to use in other ways.

But sometimes it’s much more difficult.

Some “things” carry memories and sentiment that still mean a lot to you…memories of people now gone or events that changed your life.

Events may be ways you have been involved in ministry in some form and you wonder if there is anything that can fill the hole that will be left when you no longer provide it in the way you have over the years.

Sometimes you have no choice but to let go because you just don’t have the energy to keep up…or you begin dealing with health situations that require a change.

I’ve been providing music ministry by playing for church for almost 70 years now. It has not only been a ministry for others; it has also fed my soul. Recently part of that ministry has involved accompanying a choir as they provide ministry to various congregations in my faith tradition.

But I’ve now found that it’s time to let go. I no longer have the energy to keep up with all the choir activities. I have been dealing with some health situations over the past year that have made it not possible to sit on a backless organ bench for the length of a service, although I can still offer piano ministry by sitting in a chair rather than on a bench or stool…and I can still do some organ playing as long as I am careful with where and for how long.

That’s not been an easy decision. I’ve had to give myself permission to mourn the loss of something that has been important most of my life. But in making that decision, I have discovered that some other possibilities have opened up…including composition, something I was interested in many years ago but put to one side as life intervened.

Learning when it is time to let go can be one of the most challenging lessons of life. But seeing it not so much as a “have to” but instead as a way of allowing other doors to open can make it an easier decision to make.

War is not the answer…it’s a symptom

I am aware that the statement I’ve made as the title of this blog comes from a position of privilege.

I am not a Palestinian woman, wondering if there is any safe place in Gaza…wondering how I will feed my children and protect them from harm.

I am not an Israeli woman, wondering if there will ever be a place where my family and I can live without fear of pogroms or antisemitic violence.

I am not a Ukranian woman, sitting in the midst of the rubble that was once my village, weeping for the loss of my culture, my history, my friends and family.

I am not a Russian woman, fearing that my son will be forced to fight in a war he does not want and wondering if he will come home.

I am not a woman in any of the many, many other war-torn countries in our world. And yet I am also impacted by war. I lost one grandson to the effects of war. His brother also served–and came home safely.

What does war resolve? Anything? 

It breeds resentment…a desire for revenge.

It causes us to spend more and more on weapons and ammunition–money that could go a long way to help create affordable housing…fund education…provide medical care…improve infrastructure.

I am not so naive that I don’t recognize that there is evil in our world. And I find myself wishing at times that I could engage in a dialogue with Dietrich Bonhoeffer–a minister who yet became involved in a failed plot to kill Hitler, because he felt there was no alternative. I’d like to visit with him about how we could create other ways of coping with the issues that cause the violence that erupts in war.

But I still believe that war is not the answer. It is a symptom of our failure to see our shared humanity. It is a symptom of our greed and our unwillingness to share out of our abundance with others in need. It is a symptom of our lack of love. And it is a symptom of our failure to live up to a fundamental tenet of all the world’s major religions–to treat each other as we want to be treated.

War is not the answer. It’s a symptom of our illness…and we cannot be healed until we recognize that.