Balancing Individual and Community Life

Dear Friends,

Two things vie with each other for the soul of the American public in our age as well as in our history – and I daresay, in our future. Of course, there are more than two, but humor me and let’s pay attention to these two. They are the good of the individual and the good of the community.

To be totally absorbed in the good of the individual can lead to selfishness. To be totally given over to work for the good of society can leave one empty.

The important thing is to keep a balance between these competing claims.

I once heard a story from the lore of a far distant land. It goes something like this:

On this particular day, the word went out throughout the village that Sarah was about to give birth. For days, as her time grew near, the sage of the village pondered what the name of the child of Sarah and Ben should be. The sage prayed, consulted the stars, and listened to the wind. On that new birth date, the whole village fell into silence, as it always did when a birth was imminent. Necessary messages were given in whispers, and even the children seemed to learn early on that the whole village must direct its energies to the birth of the new one of theirs.

As soon as the child was born, the sage whispered the name of the baby to Sarah, who first whispered it to the baby and then to Ben. Ben, in turn went out to the grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins and whispered the name to each of them. And they, in turn, went out into the whole village to whisper the name to everyone.

As soon as the whole village knew the baby’s name, they converged on the house, stood around it and chanted, sang the baby’s name.

This was a loved child, a welcomed child, a child who belonged not only to Sarah and Ben, but to the whole community, where, as the child grew, its destiny and contribution to the life of the community would become clear.

The lessons are clear: Without the individual, there is no community. Without the individual, called by name in baptism, there is no church.

The civic community and the church welcome the individual and offer that person everything they need to grow and become more and more fully who they are. The individual also has a responsibility for the community and the church.

“If one is to do good,” says the ethicist William Blake, “good must be done in minute detail. General good is the lea of the hypocrite, the scoundrel and the flatterer,” he concludes.

But the movement from general good (e.g. I wish no one evil. All lives matter.) to the particular good (e.g. What must I do…) requires the sacrifice of some of our apparent individual goods. Therein is the rub!

To break down isolation of people by race, income and culture, to bridge the widening gaps that separate rich, poor and the shrinking middle class, to advance liberty and justice for all, we need to step up, step out, step in. Our baptism calls us to do nothing less.

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Lessons of the Women Disciples

Dear Friends,

Last Thursday, the 20th of August, was the 100th anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment, granting the women the right to vote. It all came down to Tennessee’s ratification, which was achieved with effort, determination, and belief that the vote would bring women to a new moment in the national move toward equality of women with men.

Last week was also the virtual Democratic Convention which confirmed Kamala Harris as Joe Biden‘s vice presidential running mate. 

Both of these were key elements in moving toward life to the full for American women.

But the story leading up to the ratification of the 19th Amendment and the choice of a woman of color seem to have no clear overt reference to the Gospel which undergirds and sustains our faith lives. Is there none? Do believers find cause to support women’s issues, women’s presence in shaping the life of our nation politically? Yes. Just take a long loving look at Jesus.

In a time when men only counted, Jesus interacted with both Jewish and Gentile women…the Samaritan woman at the well, with her many layers of experience, the Canaanite woman in last week’s Gospel, strongminded Martha and Mary, and the woman with the unending hemorrhage. Jesus touched the dead body of the daughter of Jairus and was touched by the woman who anointed him at the table of Simon the leper. Jesus had a group of disciples who were women, who did not run away in the face of his death, but stayed with him at the tomb when his male disciples did not. The most notable of the women disciples was Mary Magdalen. Mary, his Mother, was the first beloved woman in his life.

Jesus learned fresh, clear lessons from interacting with women – his mother whose awareness of a wedding need moved him to turn water into wine. He came to a new sense of ministering to foreigners because the Canaanite woman wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Jesus told stories about resourceful women – the persistent woman who stood before a judge until she got a satisfactory answer and the woman who swept and swept until she found the missing coin.

There are other women who might be your personal favorites.

All of them, partners of Jesus in daring, steeped in the depth of compassion, mercy and love, witnessed by their lives the love of Jesus for women. Later the church suffered from a convenient amnesia. It forgot that women were not second class in the eyes of Jesus. He accepted them and their lessons, their capabilities and faithfulness.

As women today go on to seek equality in all spheres of life possible, we have an indefatigable, faithful partner in Jesus – our God, yes, and our brother as well.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Lord, Help Me

Dear Friends, 

In our everyday world, people are divided into insiders and outsiders. People are enemies or allies, acceptable or not, Protestant or Catholic, educated or not. How we understand heaven can divide Muslims from Christians. Sometimes workers and management see each other in hostile ways. The divisions in Congress are evidence that people cut each other off from working together on problem solving for the common good.

But division/divisiveness is not of God.

Consider the 1st reading today from Isaiah: “the burnt offerings and sacrifices of foreigners who join themselves to me will be acceptable at my altar.”

So much of Paul’s letter to the Romans, part of which we hear today, invites us to give up divisions and be reconciled with one another.

And the Gospel tells a story we very much need to hear, so that we know that Jesus, too, had a hard time becoming wholeheartedly inclusive.

At the beginning of this account, Jesus wears blinders. He has been immersed in a ministry to his fellow Jews. But now, he crosses a geographic boundary into a foreign territory. A Syro-Phoenician woman calls out to him, but he did not respond. 

In last week’s Gospel, Jesus was able to stop the wind and waves, but now, he could not stop the woman’s persistent appeal for help. Mothers worldwide, in every age, will do anything they can to achieve their children’s well-being. She would not take no for an answer. Even the insult Jesus sent her way would not deflect her from her point, as she deftly turned Jesus’ words into a compliment of sorts.

“Lord, help me,” she begged. We heard the same cry for help on Peter’s lips last week, as he took his eyes off Jesus and sank into the turbulent waters.

Why should Jesus help Peter and not the Syro-Phoenician’s daughter? Why indeed?

What impresses me about this woman is how she did not let secondary issues distract her. She could have walked away in anger because Jesus was treating her in the stereotypical way women were treated then. She could have taken him for an arrogant Jew who looked down on Gentile foreigners. Sexist and racial exclusion are worthy of our combat. But she didn’t. She stayed on point, and her daughter was healed.

In our church and in our world, upholding life values requires that, as John Lewis reminded us, we need to keep our eye on the prize and make good trouble.

The Gospel shows us that inclusiveness in our mentality and practice is hard won. We are challenged today to have God’s own attitude in us toward humanity: to be welcoming and open, not closed and prohibitive. To do this with courage, we need to pray the prayer of Peter and the Canaanite woman: Lord, help me.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Finding God's Help Amidst a Storm

Dear Friends,

It is a paradox. God is not in the storm in the story of Elijah; God is in the storm in Matthew’s gospel account today.

Where is God most present? In Elijah’s flight from his enemies? In the disciples’ struggle with the storm? God is always present, but the way God is present varies. 

In the silence, the voice of God sends Elijah back to the fearful and violent place from which he had fled. Peter and Jesus get back into the boat. They don’t go to shore. The boat is where the others are, and even though it is a place of danger, they are all in it together. (We keep hearing that same phrase these days about life with the coronavirus: We are all in this together.)

Our own impossible situations are dramatic in an analogous way, and we are invited by the Gospel to imitate Peter and call out to Jesus, “Help me!” And Jesus, in turn, will stretch out his hand to catch us.

A week before my mother, Celia, died, I recall being indescribably weary as I arrived at the elevator door. The accumulation of Celia’s demanding illness interwoven with my three cancers and a broken leg had pretty much leveled me.

As I rode up on the elevator at the nursing home that day, I leaned my forehead against the wall. “I can’t do this alone today,” I prayed.

A little while later, along came my mother’s brother, Adam, who had only come three other times in eleven months. I recognized him for who he was: the outreached hand of Jesus. God provided in my storm.

Going back to the Gospel, Peter, the fisherman, is remarkably more aware of the storm’s treachery than he is confident of Christ’s summons, until Christ reaches out to him.

But the import of this story is not for individuals alone. Muchmore than that, the boat can be seen as a symbol of the church threatened by persecution and trials that sought to destroy it in the early church. Our church is that way today. Destruction threatens. The uncertainty the church faces about its strength and direction is real and absorbing. Will we become more centralized and authoritarian as some would wish, or will it become more collegial and embracing of people’s lives and gifts? One danger our church faces is missing the boat – not recognizing what Jesus is calling us to be and do. Another danger is an unwillingness to enlarge the crew for the boat – women and men, married and single. 

With our mind’s eye, if we sweep across the ministry of Jesus, we find that he had a way of being active and alert with the very mind and heart of God. He would be where he was needed most, in the way he was needed most. His last promise to his followers was, “I will be with you always.”

Jesus, the Holy One, Our God made flesh, will be with us as a faith community and as individuals.

The great truth concealed beneath the waves of the storm that threatened to engulf the disciples is this: Jesus, the Christ, will bring to the moment peace, calm waters and a future to unfold.

Whether we recognize the coming of our God in a tiny wisp of wind, or in a voice in a stormy night, or in a raging pandemic, our God will come to us.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Divesting for the Sake of Others

Dear Friends,

I bet many of us have had this experience. We come to a stoplight, often near an expressway exit, and there, looking directly at us is a disheveled individual, usually male, holding up a sign that says, “Hungry! Anything will help.”

My first reaction is to look at the stoplight and urge it to turn green so I don’t have to see this man anymore. Then I try to look away, fidget with something on the dashboard, try to ignore the person. Occasionally, if I have them in the car, I give the man a package of breakfast bars, or suggest that he go to the House of Mercy. The light turns green and I drive away, feeling sad, guilty, helpless.

How can I do anything in the face of this real life situation?

Then we hear today’s Gospel and I feel even more guilty. Jesus saw the crowd: poor people, homeless people, sick people, people without hope. The Scripture says, “Jesus’ heart was moved with pity.” Even though Jesus was still sorrowing over the beheading of John the Baptist, Jesus was very much present to the moment. He was a compassionate person. Compassion means “to suffer with.” Jesus was compassionate to the core of his being.

How do we imitate the compassion that Jesus shows in today’s Gospel? How do we do that in today’s society? I can see and fully understand why any of us might be reluctant to deal with that person at the stoplight or the one who stops us on the street and asks for money. We don’t feel safe. We are uncomfortable facing what may be potential danger.

So how do we, in this time and place, imitate the compassion of Jesus?

One of the leaders of the church in the 4th century, St. Basil, wrote, “The bread that you don’t eat is the bread of the hungry. The garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of the naked. The shoes you do not wear are the shoes of one who is barefoot. The money you keep locked up is the money of the poor.”

Once in a while I watch an episode of a home improvement show just to see what I would do as a home designer. More often than not, closets are overfull with racks of clothes and boxes of shoes, storage areas are full of bins of “stuff,” rooms are full of children’s toys that the youngsters have outgrown and the garage and kitchen are full of generations of tools.

For us today, to act with the compassion of Jesus, perhaps we could take St. Basil seriously.

What, in the last two years, have you and your household not worn or used? What have the children outgrown in toys? All of these might go elsewhere, to be better appreciated and put to use. Package them carefully and discard what is clearly beyond anyone’s use. Make this a family effort. You and unnamed others will both benefit. This is not to make space so you can buy more. It is not the same as helping the man at the streetlight. His may well be a problem of mental or psychological distress. Thank God we have volunteer groups in Rochester who help gather the distressed and get them to safety.

May compassion of Jesus take root in us, and the ideas of St. Basil move us to divest for the sake of the lives of others.

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Power of Wisdom

Dear Friends,

Today’s first reading from 1 Kings 3 gives us a snapshot of Solomon, Son of David, as he ascends the throne of Israel. “O Lord, my God,” he prayed, “I am a mere youth, not knowing how to act…Give your servant an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.” God was touched by the generosity of Solomon’s request, and it was given to him.

Fast-forward to 2020 – to two recent situations – one here in Rochester and the other in Atlanta. They both have to do with wisdom, i.e., an understanding heart. On Friday, July 17, the front page of the Democrat & Chronicle newspaper in Rochester carried the photo of John Boedicker and Charles Milks, two white men in their 20’s, carrying a statue of Frederick Douglass to be erected in Maplewood Park. The backstory is a lesson in wisdom, for when John and Charles had vandalized a similar statue two years ago, they could have been penalized and no more. But wisdom prevailed in the Center for Dispute Settlement and the Re-energizing the Legacy of Frederick Douglass Committee. These groups created a restorative justice program for John and Charles, who went through a series of experiences that did not punish, but restored these two men to life in a multiracial community. That’s how they got to carry the new statue of Douglass into Maplewood Park.

Calvin Eison, chair of the Douglass Committee, was able to secure from Monroe County District Attorney Sandra Doorley a pledge that prosecutors would try to use this restorative justice program with defendants of color who commit similar crimes.

Wisdom restores, plants understanding in wayward or lost hearts and creates new life.

The day this article was in the newspaper, John Robert Lewis, icon of the civil rights movement and last remaining member of the 1963 March on Washington, died in Atlanta at the age of 80. Lewis was gifted by God with an understanding heart from his youth. Once he realized that, he never wavered, though he was beaten multiple times in his call for justice and could have said, “I have done enough.” The word “enough “was not in his vocabulary. The historian Jon Meacham calls Lewis a saint who shaped his life on the beatitudes.

The life of John Lewis is a thread through our Congregation’s life, for the Sisters of Saint Joseph ran the hospital in Selma, Alabama where John Lewis was brought after the attack on the far side of the Edmund Pettis Bridge. He is one of our heroes.

These stories of recent events give us inspiration to ask God for wisdom if we think we don’t have it. The letter of James offers us this encouragement: “If any of you is without wisdom, let him {her} ask it from the God who gives generously and ungrudgingly to all, and it will be given him {her}” James 1.5.

In today’s Gospel from Matthew, Jesus tells the parables of the buried treasure, the merchant searching for fine pearls and the net thrown into the sea. “Do you understand these things?” Jesus asks his disciples? Given the examples of the restored John and Charles and in the spirit of John Lewis, Jesus asks us the same thing. How will we shape our life going forward?

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Ambiguities of Life

Dear Friends,

Just under the surface of all our lives is a thing called “ambiguity:” on the one hand, it could be like this. On the other hand, it could be like that.

Who is to decide? Which is real? Which is better? Which can I be sure of? Why is it that what you are sure of, I am not? And what I am sure of, you cannot see at all?

We would like life to be certain, clear, and unambiguous. If the truth be known, we try to rid ourselves of the muddy waters of ambiguity.

One thing we hope will help us do away with ambiguity is a sign. If only we had a sign, then we would be sure, but then signs themselves are ambiguous.

Consider Elijah in 1 Kings 19. Elijah was fleeing from Ahab and his queen Jezebel. Exhausted from his journey, Elijah made his way up to Mt. Horeb, seeking God and some sort of sign from God about his next steps. “Go outside, God said to Elijah. Stand before the Lord and the Lord will pass by.” There was successively a fierce wind, an earthquake, and a fire – but the Lord was not in any of these. Then there was a tiny whispering sound. And in that moment, Elijah knew God’s presence and what to do.

Listening to God in these days of pandemic and pain multiplied in a variety of ways in people’s lives, with so much that is unsure, what next steps do we take? In John 11, the story of the raising of Lazarus begins with Jesus getting word that Lazarus was ill. But Jesus did not rush off immediately to see his beloved friend. Jesus did not go to Lazarus until it was apparently too late. Instead, Jesus went when he thought he ought to go.

“Ought” has to do with a deep down sense of God’s presence that moves us if we are willing to be moved. The light comes to us and we walk by that light. “This is what I think I ought to do.” That’s the best we can do. We have read the signs of our world and life and have heard some small whisper that moves us to the next moment.

We do have to trust that God is with us, even though death seems to shroud us as it did Lazarus, and that life will emerge despite the contradictions, interruptions, disappointments, frustrations and risks that pepper our lives.

Even Paul was subject to the ambiguities of his life. “We see in a mirror dimly” he reminds us in 1 Cor. 13.12. Yet he went on without the full accurate picture of his journey. Lacking assurance and direct knowledge of this next steps, Paul opted for conviction. As the author of Hebrews says, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen” (Heb. 11.1).

So what we are called on to be today are people who trust that God is with us, and that the steps we take in harmony with God will lead us on, not necessarily to where we want to be but where we ought to be. So let’s be courageous, inquisitive, creative, self-examining, and loving. Let us walk with the clarity of God’s presence in the shroud of ambiguity around us.

~Sister Joan Sobala