Midsummer of Parallel Dimensions

I guess it is well past mid-summer although it feels about like it to me now; the spring rains went on for so long in Oregon we really only have had a few weeks of real summer at this point. It is lovely, not quite yet dog days (as they say back east). Roses from the garden are nice; the tomatoes and peppers are just beginning to fruit, later than usual, the herbs are doing well, the zucchini are blooming (fingers crossed there) and the broccoli beginning to mature. I still can’t get the mulch out, maybe this week.

Out in the real world it seems we are in something like dogged-days—a progressive president and administration can’t get traction on much of anything as disruption and disaster and a shifting economy seem to swirl uncontrolled, on the one hand, and a rising tide of miscontent and discontent threatens what the constitution calls “domestic tranquility.” Pride celebrations are protested more dangerously than is usual, and we are told our right to marriage equality is on the right-wing court’s hit list.

We can’t put on blinders and just tinker in the garden. But we can’t sink into despair either. Neither is an expression of walking in love as we have been called to do. In Amos (8:1-12) we see God providing Amos with prophecy by metaphor—a basket of summer fruit. A basket of summer fruit is a sign of the product of the power of God’s love. It also is a foretaste of the kingdom of love. It also is a warning that this is the last if love does not persist. If love does not persist, then all there is, is a basket of rotting fruit, soon gone, leaving waste matter in its past.

God’s ire in this tale arises from the piling up of miscontent and discontent among God’s people who have forsaken love for self. The prophecy describes the antithesis of love: wailing, death, casting out, land trembling, mourning, flooding, darkness, lamentation, famine, wandering seeking love. A basekt of summer fruit indeed.

Psalm 52 “Quid gloriaris” or “Why do you boast?” is a lament on the absence of love among people of discontent miscontent malcontent, they “see and tremble.” The psalm is sun by those who love who neither tinker in the garden nor sink into despair, but rather, they understand the mounting loss experienced by those who do not love. Those who do not love rely on wealth and selfishness instead of love. Love means loving neighbor as self. Those who love are like “the green olive tree,” rich with potential ripeness, with strength to grow and produce into eternity, a true sign of hope, justice, trust, mercy, thanksgiving.

In Colossians (1:15-28) Paul reminds the faithful that all it takes is a little bit of love. Love builds up. The absence of love is quickly healed with a little bit of love. This is the secret of God’s kingdom given to us in Christ which is intended to be spread throughout creation.

In Luke (10:38-42) Jesus visits his friends Mary and Martha. It doesn’t say so, but we can imagine all of the disciples have crowded in as well to sit about accepting hospitality and listening to Jesus. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and listens intently. Martha scurries about in the background, working, cooking, planning, fuming (I understand, this is how I entertain, my husband is the talker who sits with the guests and socializes while I’m out in the kitchen banging things around and dropping food on the floor). Finally, Martha loses it, and tells Jesus to make Mary pony up some help. Jesus isn’t having any of it, because he knows what has happened to Martha is that she has let her loving lapse into despair and tinkering.

Mary and Martha are both people who walk in love. So, this is a message from Jesus to those of us who do already walk in love to not take ourselves too seriously and to not forget that love is more important than any thing of loving. Neither tinker nor worry. Rather, love in your heart, even just a little bit. This is more important, “the better part.”

This speaks to us now in the current time of trial. We occupy parallel dimensions. Some of us, most of us in the LGBTQ community, live in the dimension of love where God has created us to be people identified by love. Love is in our hearts, love is in our hospitality, love is in our caregiving, love is our path to eternity. We live alongside people who dwell mostly in a dimension without love. Our job is to build up God’s love to the point that they, too, can find the door into the dimension of God’s love. That basket of summer fruit should be a sign of hope and eternity for every child of God.

Proper 11 Year C RCL 2022 (Amos 8:1-12; Psalm 52 Quid gloriaris?; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42)

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