We’ve All But Forgotten How to Do This

(Written for May-June 2015 Wayland UMC ARK newsletter)

When the great Rabbi Israel Shem Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted. Later, when his disciple had occasion, for the same reason, to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: “Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayer,” and again the miracle would be accomplished. Still later, another Rabbi, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say, “I do not know how to light the fire. I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient.” It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished. Then it fell to the latest Rabbi to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: “I am unable to light the fire, and I do not know the prayer, and I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story, and this must be sufficient.” And it was sufficient. God made man (sic) because he loves stories (Storytelling: Imagination and Faith, William J. Bausch, 15-16).

We try so hard to be faithful in our lives. We want to follow the practices that we inherit in our faith traditions. But over time and in successive generations, things change. We forget details or have different memories of how things used to be. There can be a sense of resignation in the losses that accumulate through the years. We can grieve those losses by giving up on current attempts to participate in our life with God. Or like each more recent Rabbi in the story, we can offer what we know and do not know up to God, and ask that it be accepted and transformed.

These accumulated losses are felt on a community and nation-wide scale. I write this as the riots in Baltimore, MD are destroying their city following another grievous death of an African American man in police custody. We grieve for the people overwhelmed by violence and poverty, and the law enforcement community dedicated to, and so challenged by the call to serve and protect.

We are experiencing a convergence of grief and change in our congregation, and in our individual lives. The change is not bad. We are pursuing healthy growth goals, and expanding our leadership teams and their resources. We have been envirogated by the adult handbell choir during Lent (and possibly in coming months). Our Red Bird Mission/Henderson Settlement Team is on location in Kentucky as most of you receive this newsletter. And we grieve the losses of dedicated yet departed servants and friends.

So, this is our time to call out to God for help. We can lift up our hearts, tell our stories and ask that God use us in the divine plans for peace, healing and justice, even if we have all but forgotten how to do so.