​“The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends towards justice.” Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King said that in 1964. Dr. King was paraphrasing abolitionist minister Theodore Parker from 1853. That phrase has been used many times since by many people. Today it is my prayer.
I believe it not because my faith is in the morality of people. I know this because my faith rests in God and God’s vision for all humanity, all creation.

We sit on one sliver of the arc. We can look back and see the slope from which we came. It is long with a slow rise. Looking forward is only done with the eyes of faith…especially as we sit on this sliver where justice feels so tenuous.

Four years ago today, I bought pink champagne for my friends so we could all toast to the first woman president on election night. This year I am holding my breath. We have learned the hard way that the election is about more than one person. It is about our place on the arc of the moral universe.

Yesterday on All Saints Sunday, I preached on the Beatitudes from the gospel of Matthew. They are a comfort, reminding us of our blessedness. They also are a call to action. We are called to participate in what God is doing in the world. We comfort, advocate, work for peace, show mercy and honor each other’s blessedness. Full stop.

We are called to difficult work and it is our work to do no matter who is elected on November 3rd. I pray that the experiment of the last four years – electing a celebrity with no public service experience – will end. No matter the outcome, we have been blessed so that we may do our work on this sliver of the arc of the moral universe.

​~ Pam

Last week I got a change of scenery. It was good for my mental health and my soul. I went to Memphis*, Tennessee. I did not need more alone time. I needed to be out in the world and decided stories would be my traveling companion.
The stories came from the ancestors: my own, others’ and our collective ancestors. I was not alone.
 
The Lorraine Motel and the National Civil Rights Museum
On a beautiful sunny morning, I turned a non-descript corner looking at my phone making sure I was in the right place…I took a few more steps and there it was. The balcony where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. It literally took my breath away. It looked both exactly as previously pictured and completely unreal. The plaza was silent. I did not know what to do. After standing still, I slowly made my way to the edge of the public area. There were kiosks with videos and written descriptions of that day and King’s legacy. I couldn’t see them because my eyes were filled with tears. I felt the weight of that place to my core.
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I had a timed ticket for the museum, so needed to get inside. The weight was not lifted after entering.
There is no way to adequately describe the entirety of this experience. The museum begins with the Middle Passage from Africa. The power of this experience is that the stories are told truthfully – no sentimentality, no trying to pull at your heart strings. It is purely the truth, which is horrifying and shameful. It is also uplifting when you see in whole context of the history of black people, in spite of how their country has treated them, they still rise up and give hope to the rest of us. (Even though it is not their job to give the rest of us hope!)

I found myself angry that I only ever learned a fraction of this history and that was by my own initiative over this past decade. It spurred me to learn more stories of our nation’s history, the stories not written in the text books.
 
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James A. Brown: my great, great grandfather who served in the Indiana Infantry died in Tennessee during the Civil War. (probably not in battle but of a previous wound or disease)
I learned this ancestor was buried in the Memphis National Cemetery. I had the section and plot number so I thought I would try to find it myself. The cemetery is filled with veterans and their spouses, beginning with those who died in the Civil War. As I walked through the perfectly aligned grave markers, I let myself read the names of the people buried there. 

I am not overly sentimental about those who serve in our armed forces. I know the cost. I was looking at the cost. I am grateful for their service and also am honest that many of the people buried there did not have the choice to serve. Here are many lives that ended too soon.
I was also unnerved by the juxtaposition that the immaculately tended grounds of the cemetery were surrounded by what looked like one of the poorest areas of Memphis. Do we treat our dead better than we treat our living brothers and sisters?

​Many more stories
I was uplifted at Sun Records and heard how Elvis, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and others got their start in music.
I listened to the blues at a time when it feels like those words are a mirror held up reflecting our daily struggles.
I talked to shop keepers and wait staff, listening to how they are trying to get by when tourism has almost disappeared. They, like the rest of us, are living with the combination of a difficult reality and hope for the future.

I am grateful for the chance to get away. I feel refreshed and ready to enter back into the stories that surround me here at home and at work. And always…look forward to getting away again.

​Pam
 
*(I have always wanted to go to Memphis: listen to live Blues, eat BBQ, and take in the whole vibe. I figured Memphis would be safe because who goes sightseeing to Memphis in the middle of the week during a pandemic?! I was right. It was very safe.
AND – I wanted to spend my money in a place that could use the income – prioritizing small local businesses and tipping well.)

I am not sure if this is normal for “regular” people, but this is what church geeks talk about: redemption.

I had lunch with a friend yesterday. After catching up and sharing the current details of life, we got on the subject of redemption – specifically, God’s redemption of all things. (Yup, that’s us…on a sidewalk café in Wrigleyville.)
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This conversation was about a very specific relationship, and yet, I think could transcend to many broken relationships. God redeems and makes new. That is what God does. That is the business God is in. What about when one person in the relationship does not repent, does not own up to their mistakes and the hurt it caused. Can there be sacred redemption without human repentance? My theology says yes. God does not need us to make all things new. But my (and our) human healing needs a bit of repentance.

Jump ahead to later that day when I am reading Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the U.S. by Lenny Duncan. In this book Pastor Duncan has a powerful chapter called: Repentance, Reparations, Reconciliation. His book is a challenge to the churchbody in which he serves. (and I serve)
This is what I hear as I read: Stop with the hand-wringing about declining numbers and monetary giving. The answer to the future of the church is to welcome all people, specifically people of color and LGBTQIA folks. And not with greeters at the door and a gift of a mug with the church logo. The only welcome that will “save” the church as we know it is to dismantle it. Acknowledge the racism, sexism, toxic masculinity, and nationalism that permeates the organizational structure and replace it the three “R’s” above – in that order.

OK, I know that is a lot to take in if you have not read this book. (Church leaders - I urge you to read this book.) It helped me frame our individual relationships and the hurt and harm we inflict on one another. Yes, God makes things new. God also desires us to see the divine nature of each other and God hurts when we discard the sacred for our desire to be ….. (right, powerful, smart, in control, etc)

• Repentance: sincere regret or remorse
• Reparations: the making of amends for a wrong one has done, by paying money or otherwise helping those who have been wronged
• Reconciliation: the restoration of a relationship

In that order, as Pastor Duncan compels us to do.

Wow. That is hard. We are called to do hard work. All of us. Not just pastors and church staff. All of us. We are called to be a part of God’s healing in and of the world.

Finally, in church this morning the Bible lessons, hymns and prayers were all about healing. (Of course, they were.) When we sang the hymn, We Come to You for Healing, Lord, tears welled up in my eyes. Our personal relationships are broken. Our political system is broken. Our churches’ established practices are broken. That all feels heavy.
There is hope. That is why I come to church: to be reminded of that hope and to be with others who hope.
​And I go to be reminded that God can and does make all things new.
~ Pam

We Come to You for Healing, Lord
We come to you for healing, Lord, of body, mind and soul,
and pray that by your Spirit’s touch, we may again be whole.

As once you walked through ancient streets and reached toward those in pain,
come, risen Christ, among us still with power to heal again.

When nights are long with wakefulness, through days when strength runs low,
grant us your gift of patience, Lord, your calming peace to know.

We come to you, O loving Lord, in our distress and pain,
in trust that through our nights and days your grace will heal, sustain.

​When I was in middle school, I wanted to paint a mural on the inside wall of our family’s garage. My parents asked me why I wanted to do it. I don’t remember my actual answers but I bet they were something like:

• It would be fun.
• It will look nice.
• I want to.

I do remember the word-for-word parental answer to my request: “When you get your own garage, you can paint a mural on it.” So, I did. In 1992 I painted a mural of the Hawaiian Islands on one of the walls in my garage.
Now 27 years later, I am painting another wall in my garage. Why? The exact same reasons I wanted to many years ago!

There are many studies that outline the importance of play just for play’s sake, but we don’t need studies. We just know that feeling when we are being playful for no other reason than because we want to do it. And yet, as adults we do not prioritize playfulness for ourselves. We encourage our kids to “put down your phone and go outside and play.” We carefully craft employee workshops and outings so it includes some time to “not be so serious.” Those are good but they are not the same things as moments of personal and spontaneous playfulness.

So…I went to Home Depot and picked up a gallon of ‘oops’ paint in Robin Egg Blue.

My intention for this wall evolved as I began and I listened to the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman while I painted. Lyrics like: “[Where the] impossible comes true. It’s takin’ over you.” and “The brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake, I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see.” inspired me to make this wall a place of personal inspiration. It is what I see as I pull my car out each morning and what I see at the end of each day when I return home.

So this is my view:

1. Grounding myself in my family I see the tandem bike that I rode with my Grandfather. I was in back with my feet up until he asked, “Pam, are you pedaling?” My mom’s sled from when she was a girl. My grandpa’s license plate from the year I was born.
2. The election signs of people I admire and who did not let cultural and racial barriers stop their desire to serve in an elected office. (Remember the name Hadiya Afzal!)
3. And the poster of Muhammad Ali. This hung in my first office 20 years ago when my church was starting an afterschool program for area kids. This poster reminds me to trust my own instincts. At the time I knew nothing of white privilege and had no anti-racism training. I did know that heroes do not all look alike and that we need to make visible the heroes of all people, especially for our children.
   And…..Ali is inspiring all on his own!

So, what will you do to be playful today? Camp out tonight in your backyard? Make a new exotic recipe and share it with friends? Get out your kids’ Play-doe after they go to school?
These days it sometimes seems joy is hard to find. It is not. According to Glinda, it is as close as your own backyard. Enjoy your play!
~ Pam