Empathy for Lent
Dear Friends in Christ,
Yesterday, for Ash Wednesday, I was joined by a small group of intrepid people (Rev. Mees, Jeanne Virgilio, and Deborah McKenzie) from Saint Anna’s at the Antioch Bart station to offer ashes to people getting off or on the train.
This is the second year we have done this, and once again it was very rewarding to everyone who participated. Over twenty people took advantage of our presence to receive ashes on their foreheads, and a number more asked us about what we were doing, about our church, and expressed some kind of interest. In fact one woman who was excited to receive ashes, brought her family to the 7 PM service because her mother had been wanting somewhere to go and receive ashes. All of these experiences tell me that what we were doing is meaningful and worthwhile.
For which I am grateful. Because it was cold out there at the station which is exposed to the wind and provides no shelter. Very cold. We stuck it out for the intended two hours, because the response we got was worth it, but by the time we left I was shivering and couldn’t feel my fingers or toes, and I was very grateful to get into my car and crank up my fortunately very effective heater to begin to thaw out as I drove to the warm church where I made myself a cup of hot tea to complete the job.
And here’s the thing. I could barely tolerate the two hours I stood outside in the cold wind, but some people have no choice because they have nowhere else to go. Unhoused people don’t have a car, or a warm place to go to when it gets as cold as it is right now. Some people have to sleep outside, exposed to all kinds of elements every…single… night. It made me very aware o0f my privilege. While I couldn’t wait to return to the warmth, I used the time I was uncomfortable to pay attention to my discomfort, and remember and have compassion for people who have no choice but to remain in the cold.
In the first letter to Timothy, the apostle Paul (or a student of his writing in Paul’s name) says:
“God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.
8 Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, in the power of God, 9 who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace…” 2 Timothy 1:7-9
As I pointed out in my sermon yesterday, we are not meant to suffer for suffering’s sake, but living the Good News of God in Jesus the Christ requires us to give up our way of life as we know it and bring ourselves – heart, mind, soul, and very lives – into alignment with God’s will not just for us but for the world. This requires us to work for justice and healing for all of God’s people and for the earth itself. If we do this properly it will inevitably involve some “suffering,” even if that is the minor inconvenience of shopping at fair traders, or eliminating plastic from our lives, or actively protesting racial injustice and everything and anything in between. Or a major inconvenience of intentionally putting ourselves in situations where we are out of our comfort zone; to seek out the experience of people not like us, and use our discomfort to find empathy and compassion.
I recently read an account from a practicing Muslim about why Muslims fast on Ramadan. Apart from the religious and traditional reasons, he said they fast because it allows them to have empathy with people who are hungry, to find compassion for those who don’t have enough to eat. I thought of that, as I stood out in the cold yesterday, in relationship to our Lenten practice of penitence and self-reflection. As I said in my sermon yesterday, Lent offers us an opportunity to reflect on our sins – the myriad ways in which we fall short of God’s intentions for us and separate ourselves from God’s grace. I invited people to think this Lent not only about our individual sins, but about community sin - the ways in which we are complicit with and participate in injustice and oppression; how our actions contribute to the world’s sins of racism, exploitation of the earth, homophobia, and the inequality of women.
I wonder what a Lenten practice that encourages empathy with the oppressed and marginalized might look like, and what changes it might inspire us to initiate. This Lent, I invite you to pay attention to times and places where you feel uncomfortable and ask yourself what God might be revealing to you through your discomfort. And then take that experience and use it make this world more like the Kingdom of God.
Yours in Christ,
Rev. Jane+