Living into the Hope of a World that could be…

 

 

 

A few months ago I was invited by friends to join them on a Pilgrimage for Peace. It was specifically walking and praying for peace in the conflict between Israel and Palestine – a cease-fire in Gaza. We gathered in a Uniting Church on the North Shore and listened to stories of real people and their pain. We heard stories of people pushed off their land and their homes bull-dozed. We heard the stories of bombs and missiles, of persecution and homelessness. We heard stories of killing and retaliation and the ongoing fear and dislocation of so many innocent people. We listened and we prayed – there were prayers from Christian, Muslim and Jewish people, and people of a different faith or no faith, who brought the deep yearnings of their own hearts.

After this listening, praying vigil and storytelling, we set off and walked. We walked across the Harbour Bridge and through the city to a park below St Marys Cathedral. There we heard more stories of hope, of what might be and there were more prayers for peace and hope and life together. The walk was a walk of solidarity with suffering people. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t change their world or resolve the issues of which we heard. I couldn’t fix or heal the brokenness of the world, but I could listen. I could hear and take people seriously, to sit before their stories with respect and understanding – and compassion and grace. Such sitting and listening, of taking people seriously, is a vital part of change in our troubled and violent world. It becomes an act of solidarity and an active prayer for peace.

It is, what Quaker teacher, educator and writer Parker Palmer calls, the Tragic Gap. The Tragic Gap is the space between the world as we know it and the world as it could be. It is the space between the violence and suffering of the world and the vision and yearning for peace, justice and life. He says that the Tragic Gap is a very significant space and one which we hold gently and with courage and faith. It is tempting and easy to succumb to the pull of one pole or the other, to move into corrosive cynicism (and despair, anger or violence) on one hand, or hopeless utopianism on the other. This latter is to drift into idealistic notions that will never be manifest or to escape into the world beyond, the ‘heavenly realm’ beyond death. Many do this as the real world in which we live is too overwhelming, or the call to be involved in change, too confronting. Many of religious faith focus more on an afterlife and ignore the realities of the now.

In the life of Jesus, I experience him inhabiting the Tragic Gap. He walks that way between the world he experiences on a daily basis, with its impoverishment for 95% of the population, the struggles and suffering, the exclusion and judgement. At the same time, Jesus holds the vision of God’s Reign, that which he proclaims and lives out – in the world around him. Jesus neither descends to corrosive cynicism nor hopeless utopianism but walks a clear path grounded in the transformative power of love and justice.

In this weeks reading from Luke’s story (Luke 6:17-26), we have Luke’s somewhat different version of the better known story from Matthew usually called ‘The Sermon on the Mount’ with its opening ‘Beatitudes.’ Luke has Jesus descend to the plain, on an equal level with the people. In this version he is not the teacher but living amongst and offering hope. He has 4 blessings and 4 woes. Most commentators suggest that this is most likely closer to the original and Matthew has worked his version into a broader, bigger story for his community. Luke’s Jesus says:

“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

 We might well ask Jesus, what has happened to the blessings upon the poor, hungry mourning etc? It’s been 2000 years and they still struggle and suffer. The rich seem to be doing quite nicely – what has happened? Where’s the blessings? That is a fair question but one which misses the point of Jesus’ ministry. In these words we see Jesus standing in the Tragic Gap of his world. In the midst of the real world in which people suffer and struggle, hunger and grieve, speak out in love and are silenced, there remains a vision of what might be. Those who get the vision and embrace it into their lives will discover – and share! – blessing. When we stop and listen to the stories of others, when we set aside our prejudices and judgements, our fear and angst, and simply sit with others in their struggles, we begin to share the pain and engage the blessing. I’ve learned, too many times, that to simply sit with another person in their struggles, take them seriously and begin to share their story and the pain, becomes a blessing to them. It is lifegiving. They feel heard, dignified and loved. It is the beginning of blessing because community begins through that relationship.

The impoverishment that Jesus engages was more then economic, although economics played a significant role, as it does today. But impoverishment is social, political, personal, physical, emotional/psychological, spiritual, education etc. For many there is rejection and marginalisation, exclusion from life as most engage it, because of chronic illness, disability, race, culture, gender, age, capacity, sexual orientation or gender identity. Such impoverishment denies people flourishing life and it was towards such people that Jesus was drawn and to whom he reached out in inclusive love and grace. That is when blessing began, as people were embraced into the ordinary sphere of life and relationships and were named as children of God. There was food for the hungry and the weeping and mourning were held in comfort and grace. The poor found life and healing from the barriers that held them captive.

We are invited to let go of the drive towards wealth, power and control over life, with the stress and expectation, the competition and the resulting alienation from who we are and can be. We are invited to sit with, and cry with the mourning, to share our table with the hungry and outcast, and welcome the homeless. This is the hope for the world and it will take great love, courage and gentle waiting upon people and their story. I discovered a grace in sharing the pilgrimage with others and hearing their stories, sharing their prayers and learning to laugh and cry with them. This is the life Jesus invites us into.