Imagine That!

S

At the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, he announced to his hometown synagogue that these words had been fulfilled in their hearing:

God’s Spirit is on me;

    he’s chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor,

Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and

    recovery of sight to the blind,

To set the burdened and battered free,

    to announce, “This is God’s year to act!”

For the last forty days, I have been reflecting how I have been called to act, as well.  How am I to preach the message--using words only when necessary--to the poor?  It's a question that has challenged me to stretch my imagination.  What more can I give?  What am I willing to sacrifice so that I can give?  Jesus gave up his life.  Am I willing to do the same?

I leave you with this poem as a reflection on what it might be like if all of us asked ourselves these questions.  Would this be God's year to act?   

Imagine the Angels of Bread

This is the year that squatters evict landlords,

gazing like admirals from the rail

of the roof deck

or levitating hands in praise

of steam in the shower;

this is the year

that shawled refugees deport judges

who stare at the floor

and their swollen feet

as files are stamped

with their destination;

this is the year that police revolvers,

stove-hot, blister the fingers

of raging cops,

and nightsticks splinter

in their palms;

this is the year

that darkskinned men

lynched a century ago

return to sip coffee quietly

with the apologizing descendants

of their executioners.

This is the year that those

who swim the border's undertow

and shiver in boxcars

are greeted with trumpets and drums

at the first railroad crossing

on the other side;

this is the year that the hands

pulling tomatoes from the vine

uproot the deed to the earth that sprouts the vine,

the hands canning tomatoes

are named in the will

that owns the bedlam of the cannery;

this is the year that the eyes

stinging from the poison that purifies toilets

awaken at last to the sight

of a rooster-loud hillside,

pilgrimage of immigrant birth;

this is the year that cockroaches

become extinct, that no doctor

finds a roach embedded

in the ear of an infant;

this is the year that the food stamps

of adolescent mothers

are auctioned like gold doubloons,

and no coin is given to buy machetes

for the next bouquet of severed heads

in coffee plantation country.

If the abolition of slave-manacles

began as a vision of hands without manacles,

then this is the year;

if the shutdown of extermination camps

began as imagination of a land

without barbed wire or the crematorium,

then this is the year;

if every rebellion begins with the idea

that conquerors on horseback

are not many-legged gods, that they too drown

if plunged in the river,

then this is the year.

So may every humiliated mouth,

teeth like desecrated headstones,

fill with the angels of bread. 

Martin Espada

Where have I experienced the darkness of injustice in my life?

If one member suffers, all suffer together...  I Cor. 12:26

How does injustice keep people in the shadows?

Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people—blind, crippled, paralyzed—were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, “Do you want to get well?”

The sick man said, “Sir, when the water is stirred, I don’t have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in.”

How am I called to live in solidarity with my global brothers and sisters?

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?  MIcah 6:8

The Spirit of the Lord is upon you.  How will you respond?

The Spirit of the Lord is Upon Me

Hands

Leathery as elephant hide. Dark as cacao. Chapped, tired, aching.

Not hands that can take a mental health day, that can rest when sickness or injury interferes.  Not hands that hold onto the certainty of a bank account, a retirement plan, health insurance, the promise of rest without the loss of income.

Dutiful as servants, they must respond daily to the command of an unrelenting master--hunger, the most basic necessity to survival.

What work have my hands been given to do?

I have been given the gift to heal. It has been my joy and pleasure to help people find balance in mind and body with my hands.  That has been my career.

But my vocation is to love, and in that regard I find that my hands quite often play the lazy servant.  They feel entitled to days off, massages, hand lotion, play.

They are greedy, little things, too! They don't believe it's worth the while if they are not getting paid to do something.

They are also amazingly vain.  They refuse to scrub toilets, for instance.  They are appalled by making beds, washing dishes, and folding clothes.  They are not impressed by the argument that even humble labor has value and meaning.

I find that volunteer work is a good remedy for my selfish hands.  I may not be able to reach across the world to ease the suffering of my starving brother or sister, but I can drive to the hospital and use my hands to provide comfort and reassurance to cancer patients.

I can walk across the street to hang out with my new L'Arche friends.

I can cook meals for my friend who just came home from the hospital.

Do I receive just compensation?

I have no idea if I am receiving just compensation.  It's a mystery to me.  I can make in an hour what some people make in a year.  On the other hand, I've been told I under-charge for my services.  And I know right now, I'm struggling.  My business is foundering and we are using our savings to survive.  So just or unjust, my compensation is not enough.

But just compensation isn't just about money.  It's about living a meaningful life. It's about finding satisfaction and joy in using my talents, about providing a service that reminds me I'm sharing in God's work of creation and redemption.

In that regard, I am wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.  Because there is not one thing I can do in a single day that doesn't have the possibility of yielding good for another--whether it's helping a client or thrilling my husband with a clean toilet.

As a consumer, how do I shop with awareness?

Well, here's my favorite helpful hint:  Kill Your Television.  And not just your TV.  Your commercial radio stations, and your Facebook page.  In other words, to the best of your ability, limit your exposure to advertising.  Frankly, that is one of the major ways I shop with awareness--by not shopping.

That, and we buy all our clothes at Good Will.  It's not exactly the same as shopping for clothes that aren't made in sweat shops, but at least I'm limiting my own personal demand for new products.

Finally, when I'm grocery shopping, I look for fair trade options.  There aren't many, but it's a joy to buy fair trade when I can.

How can I support the efforts of fair trade?

The most obvious way to support fair trade is to buy fair trade.  I just found a website--FairtradeAmerica.org--that provides a long list of fair trade products. It's easy enough to print out, and refreshingly broad in scope!  You can find fair trade products anywhere from Aldi's to Whole Foods.

It also has suggestions for other ways to get involved.  For instance, I can help campaign for better terms of trade or to raise awareness.  As individuals, it's very easy to use social media to post stories and information about fair trade.  But maybe you want to get your community involved in a fair trade project.  This website can provide the resources.

As for me, I think I'm going to be more conscientious about buying fair trade groceries when I can.  I may be limited to avocados, bananas, chocolate, wine and coffee.  But, hey, that sounds good to me!

Why not listen to this song as you reflect on your answers to these questions?