The psalms often give us a glimpse into the spiritual struggle of the human soul. This honesty gives them great power to speak to us. The desire for God, even the feeling of being forsaken, is common to us all at one time or another. We share the ancient hope that we might see God face to face—and also the fervent prayer, "Don't turn away from me, Lord. Draw near to me again." Difficulties can make it seem that the One who said, "I am with you always"—is very far away. People of faith have known for centuries that one of the tests of the spiritual life is holding on in the wilderness times—the desert experiences. The psalmist in this case is up against it, and makes a faith statement as enemies close in: "Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will stand by me." It's a picture of incredible vulnerability, and at the same time an image of the enduring, steadfast love of God.
Today we are thinking about a particular kind of vulnerability, and a whole segment of humanity that stands in special need of care and protection, and that is children. They bring joy to our hearts and hope for the future, and this is how God intends it. But we know that because of their small size, their inexperience, their place in families and in society, they are too easily exploited by those who would hurt them. They are the first victims of adult power plays, and they are highly susceptible to the woes of poverty, war, and neglect. Even the ravages of weather and tornadoes, and the violence that seems to be created by global climate change, hit young ones especially hard. It is no wonder that Jesus calls our attention to their particular defenselessness, and the need for those who would follow him to take real steps to care for and protect the young. When our social structures fail to do this, it is the deepest kind of betrayal. In a larger sense, these are all our children, we are all the community. We are responsible for their care. Cities and schools and churches must join in caring and healing, but also in making sure that what is broken gets fixed, that appropriate steps are in place, that justice is served.
Think with me for a moment about one aspect of this, the matter of children's health care. In this most basic need, there is, or there should be, a call to act, a call to repentance. What should take priority—the treatment of the youngest and weakest among us, has gotten pushed way down the list. We have among us one who is positioned well to be aware of this need, and to share it with us. Cathy Rinehart, our parish nurse and session member, will you please come forward?
"Tell us a little about your vocation with the school." (response)
"From your experience, what pressing need with the children do you see?" (response)
"What's your spiritual passion/vision regarding health care for children and those marginalized in our community?" (response)
Thank you for sharing with us, Cathy, and thank you for your call and your faithfulness.
A shofar is an ancient instrument used in announcing high holy days in Judaism. Made often from a ram's horn, its mournful tones often call the people to repentance on the Day of Atonement, to a new resolve to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God. (The shofar is sounded.) |
