Uncovering Joy – Available promise
“When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you and will make you exceedingly numerous. Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you... God said to Abraham, “As for Sarah your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her, I will bless her, and shell shall give rise to nations: kings of peoples shall come from her.” Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
It is good to “get away.” It is good to take time off from the routine of our days. It is good to experience solitude. It is good to be really alone – for time beyond that which is comfortable. It is good to go to a place and time that is outside of that in which we walk day after day. It is exciting to see things out of the ordinary and take in scenes of life and nature that make us contemplate the profound wonder of being a part of God‟s creation.
Urban spirituality does not deny those experiences. Like Jesus taking time out and away from the “everydayishness” of walking within the Reign of God, we all need to step back and even step out. I find that urban spirituality is what happens while we are in the midst of things. Sometimes, it may be when we are deep within the midst of things – when we are up to our necks with everyday life – that we enter into a place of solitude and reflection that rips open the heavens. I would have to say that most often the heavens are torn apart and then visible to the person who is caught up in the experience at hand.
Whenever I read the various stories that involve the journey of Abraham and Sarah – I chuckle. Sometimes I simply cry. I cry because promise is so real – so available – so present – so thoroughly embedded in the context in which it is offered. Interrupting life, God speaks a promise. Right alongside all the information and attitudes and realities of everyday life – the things that really shape what we do next – God interrupts and promise is announced.
At Evening Prayer one night I told the gathered congregation that I was not sure if Abram fell on his face before God because he was in awe of God or he was trying to hide the fact that his eyes were rolling in disbelief. I know I was reading myself into that scene. I know that I resist how God makes the day into something other than what I intend and what I perceive. As you might expect, I roll my eyes quite a bit whenever the new or the promise or the out-of-the-ordinary knocks at the door of my life – right now.
What touched me most about this wonderful covenant story is the action that is not really noted in the story after Abram has his face buried in the ground. It is simply this - Abraham got up. There is no separation between life as it is – and promise as it shapes life. In the middle of things, promise is available as life. It is quite safe to say that all of life becomes the stage for the unfolding of God’s promise for life. That means as we lift up our eyes to see that which is before us, we are viewing all things through promise – as part of promise. Therefore, it is here and now that we are gifted with the opportunity to re-view the ordinary and common as the sacred. That changes everything and everyone.
As a young pastor in Detroit and even as an older one in Columbus, there were many times when I tripped over and fell into the presence of God announcing a promise for life. The shapes of those adventures were many. The ways in which I walked through them were varied. One thing in common with all of these experiences is that I remember them as moments of divine presence that came my way within the complexities of urban life. By complexities I suppose I’m speaking of the many levels of life that are placed right in front of our eyes and ears. There in the midst of it all – is promise already available without even having to move out to another place to see it.
A family in the parish once pulled me aside to talk. I was asked if I would make a visit on the wife’s brother who was in the hospital. They wanted me to go because they thought a pastoral visit would be important for her brother. That concern showed deeply on this sister’s face. In the conversation, it sounded like her brother was not being visited by any other pastor. The conversation was brief but it was full of a sense of urgency. I was also moved by a sense of embarrassment within the voices of this couple with whom I had been through many travails. At that time I didn’t quite understand what all that meant while I was talking to them.
It was a regular hospital call. The normal routine pastor’s go through as a part of the work we do within an ordinary week in the parish. My personal pattern is to only move right into a room if the door is open. Even then, I do that knock on the opened door and ask, “Can I come in. It’s Pastor Al.” In those moments of approaching a patient‟s room, there are often directions such as “oxygen in use.” A quick glance and you’re a bit aware of some of what some of the atmosphere will be in the room.
It was a regular hospital call until I found the room. The door was closed and the window in the door was covered over with yellow paper with a sign that read, “Precaution: Visit Nurses Station before entering.” This was not too out of the ordinary. Sometimes, patients have made some restrictions on who visits – understood. Sometimes there are some bits of advice about washing before and after the visit – understood. At the nurse’s station I was made to put on a protective gown, asked to put on gloves, and given a mask to wear over my mouth and nose. Wow. I took all this in stride and continued on with the visit.
Once inside the room I turned to face the single bed that appeared to be so far back in the room the young man in the bed looked to be even smaller than he really was. I greeted him with my name and that I was his sister’s pastor. I will never forget the look - the feel - the fear - the terror - the sense of a world crashing in – a world I had never entered before that moment. It was either 1982 or 1983. I mention this because though I had heard of AIDS, it was distant and unrelated to me or those around me.
As I look back at that time, I know that people were still thinking this stuff was “catchy” with a simple touch - if not breathing the same air. With his bed now at my side and his eyes looking all the more filled with terror and tears, all I could remember is that the God who is the Almighty God, who brings life and oversees death, and comforts all of us along this journey was in the room at that moment. The divine presence was looking at me through those wet eyes trying to put some words behind a breath of life that only was able to bring forth a little sound through a mouth full of sores.
I must have looked confused and dazed – I was. I repeated who sent me and there was the hint of a smile. I asked if could pray and he cried. I took off my rubber gloves placed my hands on his head and prayed. I don’t remember the words – only the presence of the whole cosmos. Walking out the door, I took off my robe and the mask and, as the nurse instructed, washed my hands. From that moment on, I have come to realize that joy – the fullness of life together – the healing of our lives – comes when we do not wash our hands of anyone – ever. We are people who rise up within promise and hand it on to others – by word, by presence, by touch.
This is what urban spirituality is all about. It is all about taking in the moments at hand that can move us beyond the worlds in which we choose to live. It is then that we are brought alongside other worlds. Yes, this can happen anywhere. And yet, within the urban areas of our lives, there is the constant availability of the new – the different – the strange – the familiar – the parade of God’s Reign from which we so often find it easy to hide. Urban spirituality asks that we allow our eyes to be open and our ears to be open by our God who will open our hearts to find life and be a part of the life that God promises to ignite.
Let me continue with a connecting story. This takes place years down the road. I was trying to volunteer as an AIDS buddy and with that was connected to a man about ten years older than me. We were at a doctor’s appointment for my buddy. During a long wait in the waiting room and the presence of an older couple also waiting for their appointment, I realized that the couple across the room was talking about us. When the nurse called, I took my buddy’s arm helped him along with his walker and kept my hand on his back as I transferred him into the waiting arms of the nurse whose greeting was warm and encouraging.
As I sat back on the couch I heard the woman say in a sheltered voice to her husband, “I think it is disgusting....” It hit me. To that couple I was gay and my buddy was my partner. Wow. I realized then and there that I could not refute that story. I could not get mad at them and say, “Wait a minute. I’m not gay. I’m just trying to help this man.” I realized that there was no way to distance myself and not fall under the condemnation of these people. When I was in Detroit, I could walk away from our neighborhood and not be a part of that community. I had the distinction of being white and having the privilege that comes with being white in our society. Here in that waiting room, I was being type-cast as being a gay man and there really was no way to “test out” of that ruling.
Even people who live within the domain of promise live within the simultaneous domain of the powers of this world. With all of that comes the prejudice that denies people the right to be who they are and to live as one of God’s Beloved. Within the promise there will always be contrary voices that say that the promise is not for all and life within promise is something one must earn. Therefore, the way you earn your part within the promise depends on the various voices that demand a certain life that fits within the well-defined life that so many people try to impose on others.
The joy that is uncovered when opposites collide and differences becomes walls of division is the reminder that we all fall down and fall short and fall away from the fact that God’s promise for new life is available to all. Therefore, we are invited, as people of promise, to engage those who speak and live in worlds not like our own. We are provided with the tools of dialogue that serve as the arena in which miracles take place and we begin to see and hear things anew.
Within promise we are not turned into people who judge others. Rather we are people who are called to announce a judgment that is eternally for all of God’s children. When that happens, the promise – the announcement – is the power that shapes and reshapes us. Urban spirituality is the daily discipline of hearing the announcement within the context of confusion and fear and the many ways we stayed turned-in-on-ourselves. It is then that we rise up, like Abram, and move according to a promise that is as available as our next breath...and the one after that....
TRRR
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