A Rainbow of Prophets

Prophets are God’s people who are chosen to demonstrate to all the rest of us the power of God’s love. Often prophets do this just by being whoever they already are. There are famous dramatic stories in the Old Testament about burning coals and voices in the tornado and even the sound of sheer silence (I might have made up that bit about the tornado, but you get my drift), but if you look at what prophets actually did, you will see that they walked around a lot (Isaiah walked naked for three years), they ate, they dropped in on people, they slept, and they gave their best advice about walking in love.

There are prophets among us always as well. People of my generation will recognize a few names, the most famous probably being Rosa Parks, who famously sat down. But what about Jim Obergefell, whose suit established the right to marriage equality in the US? What about recent Jeopardy! champions Amy Schneider, Mattea Roach, and Rowan? All they have done is smile and play a game—on television with millions watching! As I said, all they did was to do what they do, to be who they are, visibly. (I know, when I write about Jeopardy! it seems to unsettle people, but let’s face it, an average of 9.2 million viewers watch that show five days a week; and these viewers are everybody everywhere. Jeopardy! is so important that even way back when I was a hospital chaplain and set out to visit everyone scheduled for morning surgery, I was instructed by the senior chaplain to be sure I did not visit anybody during Jeopardy!).

Well, we have more prophets this week, and in their actions and beings we have more evidence of the ubiquity of God’s love. We have seen the work of hundreds of thousands of voters, acting and being and walking in love to bring forth greater domestic tranquility, less bullying, reinforced justice. And we saw what has been called a rainbow wave—“for the first time out LGBTQ candidates were on the ballot in all 50 states—as well as D.C., Guam and the U.S. Virgin Islands” (https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2022/11/11/lgbtq-midterms-2022-candidates/ ). Who are the prophets here? The candidates, the voters, all of us? Yes, indeed, to all three.

It is in these small ways we know we are walking in the dimension of love, that we can hold fast to hope, that God is always creating “new heavens and a new earth” (Isaiah 65:17), that we must not be “weary in doing what is right (2 Thessalonians 3: 13), that as we go God always will give us words and wisdom (Luke 21:15), and that we must always give thanks and rejoice (Canticle 9 Isaiah 12:4-5).

Of course the hard work has only begun, but that is how each day begins. There is always the hard work of remembering to walk in love even in the face of bullying and Injustice—especially in the face of bullying and injustice. Just do what you do, be who you are, emulate the prophets all around you, walk in love.

Proper 28 Year C 2022 RCL (Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 9 (Isaiah 12:2-6); 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19)

©The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Belonging in the Garden

I’m not sure when the last time was that I was so glad for a dreary day but I really am, trust me. I am sure I am incredibly grateful that daylight savings time is over and I can go back to sleeping on the earth’s schedule. Hallelujah! I’m also grateful for the current atmospheric river (weather people have such fun names now, when I was a boy we called it “rain”), which has been greening my lawn and thinning out the autumn leaves for a few days now. Yesterday I pulled out my tomatoes and peppers, harvesting any late season fruit to ripen indoors. So, now I can put away the tomato cages and the fences that keep critters out of my vegetable garden. Tomorrow, when it stops raining, I will make a trip around the flower gardens clipping any buds (there are buds on all the roses and the dahlias), which I will hope will bloom indoors. It’s going to freeze tomorrow night or the next night, and then that will be that for the gardens (except for the arugula, thank goodness, which is just delighted at the cold and dark and rain).

I have gardened one way or another all of my life, but I don’t think I have been this close to nature since I was a kid living in Hawaii, where like Oregon, nature is essentially inescapable. I love the rhythm of it, and I love the fascination of the flowers and fruits. We have a fig tree at the end of the driveway and I tug off a bowl of them every few days; they’re terrific. I feel like I’m getting away with something eating food I didn’t haul home for $60 from a store!

So there is something, some sort of message from creation, in that feeling. It is almost like a sort of secret plot—”water us and clear the weeds and feed us once in awhile and we’ll delight you for months”—something like that.

There also is some sort of hidden gay thing in it too. Again, I can’t really put a finger on it, as it were. I remember when I first had my own house in Urbana, Illinois; I would be out planting around and it guys riding by on bikes would stop and chat me up. I’m sure they all were avid gardeners. Later, in Philadelphia, I actually met most of my gay friends by admiring their work in little pocket gardens on corners here and there in the Spruce Hill neighborhood where we first lived, and some of them would drop by and help me get accustomed to the soil and hills and the felonious fellow citizens who would steal plants unless you wired the roots to cinder blocks before planting them.

Community emerged from this shared experience of creation, and I think it made us all feel like we belonged in a way being gay men didn’t usually make us feel socially. Of course this all was happening in the beginning of the AIDS pandemic when we had to learn new ways of socializing. So I guess it makes sense that one of the delights of the COVID-19 pandemic has been the growth of social media groups like “bears in the garden” and “gay gardeners” and the newer “bears in the kitchen” where a cross section of gay men check in daily for support and advice and, of course, those much-sought “likes.” Back in July I broke the soufflé dish I hadn’t used in years—my husband had given it to me when we first were together four decades ago because he “always wanted a boyfriend who made soufflés.” Embarrassed, I bought a new one, and promptly made a cheese soufflé for dinner, and posted the pictures. I was humbled at the loving supportive response.

So where am I going with all this? Rain, time, winter, gardens, cooking, yes. But also, social acceptance, social support, belonging—all active forms of loving, all examples of walking in love, and still more so examples of healing, the sort of healing Jesus brought wherever he went. He helped people shift their reality into the dimension of love, which in turn brought them back to belonging, which in turn allowed them to walk in love. We see this formula over and over in his parables—person(s), problem, resolution, healing, thanksgiving, or, belonging as the shift into the dimension of love.

In today’s scripture Haggai prophesies (1:15b-2:9) that God’s spirit always remains among us, which is after all the spirit of belonging made manifest in the splendor of creation. Paul writes to the Thessalonians (2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17) to remind them that they were chosen by God to be “the first fruits for salvation” which they receive by shifting into the dimension of Christ through “the proclamation of the good news.” In Luke (20:27-38) Jesus answers satirical questions about marriage and resurrection by reminding the crowd that those who have found the dimension of love have eternal life, belonging “like angels and … children of God, being children of the resurrection.” God is “[God] of the living; for to [God] all of them are alive.”

PostScript

For readers who are citizens of the United States, Tuesday is election day. If you haven’t voted yet, please remember to do so on Tuesday. Please remember that voting is the most essential act of love we can perform as citizens of God.

Proper 27 Year C 2022 RCL (Haggai 1:15b-2:9; Psalm 145:1-5, 18-22; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38)

©2022 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.