Sometimes it all just gets to be a little much, doesn’t it?

I continue to wait in vain for the scales of justice to tip even minutely back toward balance.

I ask; the rich CAN’T just continue getting richer, can they?

• The powerful CAN’T just continue amassing greater and greater stockpiles of influence, can they?
• I wring my hands and mutter, “Surely their greed and naked lust for power will trip them up and they will finally dine on a steaming plate of humble pie.”
• How in heaven’s name do the poor keep walking away empty-handed from the sagging, overflowing resource table … denied even the most basic means of survival?
• Haven’t we become wise and compassionate enough by now to have devised ways to reduce poverty, ignorance, disease, and despair by at least a degree or two?
• Isn’t the pendulum supposed to swing BOTH directions? And if so, when will it swing back THIS way?

Yes. At times like this it all gets to be a little too much to take in. So, what do we do? How do we respond? 

Well, there are several options; we can turn our backs and ignore the world’s pain and suffering. We can insulate our hearts and minds with entertainment, consumption, self-medication, or willful ignorance.

Or we can engage. We can follow the model of the young boy who responded to the mass of beached starfish by throwing them back, one-by-one, into the ocean. A cynical adult stopped him and asked, “Why are you throwing those starfish back into the ocean? There are so many of them! Do you really think your action really matters?” The boy picked up the next starfish in the pile, turned to the adult, smiled, and said, “It matters to THIS one,” turned, and threw it into the sea.

Or we can remember one of the many iterations of the nation of Israel. We can remember the version that was enslaved in Egypt for four hundred years, utterly devoid of hope. Or the version that saw the Temple in Jerusalem burned to the ground and their leaders forced into exile in Babylon for 70 years. Or the version that lived under the oppressive thumb of the Roman Empire for multiple generations. 

They lamented. They cried out. They shook their collective fists at God and yelled out things like: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night but find no rest.” (Psalm 22:1-2, NRSVU)

Or “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” (Psalm 13:1-2, NRSVU). 

These are the very same people we revere as our spiritual ancestors and exemplars of the faith. Their words of sorrow during times of great suffering and hardship have not been swept under the rug. Instead, those words have been captured and canonized. Their tears are woven into the very fabric of faith itself.

Their example gives me permission to feel ALL the feels… even the ones that punch me right in the gut. 

They also remind me to keep reading. To keep reading until I find the story of Moses who came to deliver the Israelite slaves from Egyptian captivity. Or Emperor Cyrus of Persia, not really a believer in the God of Israel, but the one who conquered Babylon and sent the Jewish exiles back home to rebuild their Temple. Or Jesus of Nazareth who overcame the power of Rome with the power of love.

Today, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I am bold to remind us in the middle of desperate times like these, that we still have mounds and heaps of things to be grateful for. We still have a God who loves us more than we can possibly imagine. We still have the promise God made to the exiles in Babylon when God said, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11, NRSVU). 

My forecast? Justice will roll down like water. And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. The meek will inherit the earth. Those who mourn will be comforted. The merciful will receive mercy. 

And love will finally win.

Happy giving thanks day. Abundant blessings to you and yours.