In one of the churches where I served there was a woman who upon being asked about her health and wellbeing would respond that she was still buying green bananas.
I’m not certain if I’d share her sentiment these days. Frankly, I’m not certain, period.
There’s so much unknown out there. It’s not just the pandemic, but also the election (and potential fallout) that has me wondering if I should buy green anything.
Of course, my faith tells me that God’s got the big picture, and although I’m not quite convinced my breakfast fruit of choice fits that category, knowing that God remains in the middle of it helps to ground me a bit. Hairs on my head are counted, and lilies in the field have far nicer clothes than I do… but I also know that some of this stuff, although known fully by God, is our work.
And, I guess that is what worries me. We were tasked with loving one another and caring for this beautiful world… and our track record in these areas isn’t great. Those “good old days” were only good for some, and we’ve got a habit of romanticizing history in a way that glosses over the nasty parts.
I suppose my deepest concern about all of the upheaval (and potential upheaval) is the fear that we get through all of this unchanged: that churches return to their buildings will forget those new connections they’ve made with folks online and that we will return to ignoring the needs of those whose experience of this country is different than ours because of the color of their skin. I worry that we won’t take this moment in time to examine our values as faith communities and as society to see where we are out of alignment… and then to come together and to repair that breach.
I’ve read the end of the book. I know Love wins. Until that day, I worry and hope, and hope and worry that we will do the work God tasked us with.