Where hope comes from

The small church started to gather the Sunday after the election. A group stood around the coffee table munching on donuts and muffins talking college football and the upcoming Jags game that afternoon. Some rehashed the election. No one had any new insights as to the outcome. Many in our mostly red city were elated while some were "whatever" and others were crushed. There were tears in our service. Worries about how the election was going to affect the minorities, marginalized and poor.

We heard from Nadia Bolz-Weber via video. "Do not mistake my refusal to be swallowed by fear and despair as acquiescence. It is defiance"

We read the story in Luke 21 about the ruin of the Temple. Some of Jesus' followers were admiring the architecture and Jesus told them plainly that it was as good as gone. Shocked, they wondered when and how they would know the signs of the times of the end. And he said there were times of great confusion and chaos coming and they better be ready to pay a price too. Be prepared, he told them, to say what you need to say when the walls come down. You may be betrayed and hated but I will be with you, Jesus told them.

Ironic scripture text for this Sunday. It was from the lectionary readings for the day. Our pastor preached on it. She got hope out of it somehow. It was a good job. She saw a ray of light in the recent happenings. A shaking out. A waking up. A clearer sense of what we are about. She saw community and faith and a renewed call to justice work.

We listened to a song, Rise Up.  It said, when you can't find the fight in you and you're broken down and tired of living life on the merry go round. We are going to walk it out and move mountains. Unafraid. You and I. A thousand times if we have to. In spite of the ache.

Then, we ate the body and blood of Christ. The person who invited us to the table said, Come if you want, Come if you can, Come if you need grace.

Far as I could tell we all did.