9 Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. 10 Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. 11 Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. 12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. 13 Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. 14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. 16 Live in harmony with one another . . .
Last night Second B hosted a prayer service called "For the Healing of the Nation". We scheduled this several months ago, long before the outcome of the election would be determined. We simply felt that what we would need after a bitter and protracted election season would be to simply be together as a community.
I selected the Romans reading above as a preface to our time together in the sanctuary, acknowledging that many came weeping and others came rejoicing.
What was so beautiful was that the space was held for all to be present. There was weeping --some visible. There was rejoicing -- discreet. There was respect and a place for all. We began with passing the peace and together "America the Beautiful". Deacons and pastors then led us in prayer for our elected leaders, for our nation, for our world, and for the healing of all wounds. I then prayed for our own beloved community. We then broke bread together, shared the communion, and sang the hymn: "Blest Be the Tie that Binds".
Yesterday, I saw many on Facebook saying one thing we need to do now as a nation is to get out of our bubbles. Half the country voted for Mr. Trump, the other half voted for Mrs. Clinton. The two halves live in different places -- geographically and ideologically. We live in different states, different zip codes, and on different channels. We do not know and hardly even recognize one another. As I said in a sermon earlier this summer, we are two Americas:
"[O]ne brown the other white; one urban the other rural; or, in some places, one nouveau urban and the other, I am thinking of Ferguson now) ghetto suburban. One category is increasingly fixated on what America was, while the other is still held captive by what it was not. One flyover the other speed past."
In times like these we say things like, "America needs to come together". This I believe is literally true but also physically impossible. I mean, how? How do two Americans separated by such distance come together?
Perhaps it is impossible. With the neighborhoods now so Balkanized, the schools so re-segregated, and no "Life" or "Cosby" or Great reat War to bind us altogether perhaps coming together is just too great a challenge in an age of identity politics, class warfare, and what sociologist Robert Putnam called "Bowling Alone".
But then there's what happened last night. Weeping, and rejoicing, and the passing of peace, and the breaking of bread, and the final two stanzas to "Blest Be the Tie":
"We share our mutual woes,
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.
When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again."
And the name of the place where it happened is Church.
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