Psalm 86:1-7; Matthew 10:29-31
On this Father’s Day, I find that I am in need of a father right now. I mean, I have a father, he lives in California with my brother and is reasonably healthy and doing well. But I need a father here, now, up close and personal. I remember what it felt like to have my dad hold my hand when I was a little kid; my little hand in his big one, and it felt so strong and reassuring. I remember sitting in my dad’s lap, leaning on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, feeling his lungs fill and empty, knowing that I was in the safest place on earth. There was unconditional love, protection, support, encouragement, and grace in my father’s presence. There still is.
I have been crying out like the psalmist lately, feeling in distress, wanting to feel the reassuring presence of my heavenly Father, needing to know God’s mercy and love and protection. These are troubling times, everywhere I look, and it is scary and confusing and infuriating and discouraging and sometimes very overwhelming. And it is a time when I need to know that God is watching over us – watching over me – taking note of what is going on down here and working to bring about mercy and justice and truth. I need a reminder that we are worth something to God, worth everything to God, and that God cares about all that is happening in our world.
It seems that there is strife and division and anger and grief and death all around. The COVID-19 pandemic is not going away any time soon. I cannot even begin to process the fact that, as of today, over 118,000 Americans have died and over 2.1 million have been sick. Every one of those 118,000 people have loved ones who are grieving over them, who could not even be with them to say goodbye. There is the recent racial tension that has led to continuing protests and demonstrations, peaceful and not-so-peaceful. Black Lives Matter has been countered with Blue Lives Matter, as if only one of those statements could be true. Black mothers have shared the grief they feel over the death of children at the hands of the police, and at having to teach their sons to be afraid of the very ones who are sworn to protect them. Liberals and conservatives are at each other’s throats, Democrats and Republicans, refusing to cooperate on much of anything, so that nothing seems to ever get done. The main concern of most politicians seems to be how to get re-elected. There continues to be controversy on LGBT issues. The recent Supreme Court ruling that prevents the firing of people simply over their sexual orientation has provoked some to claim that the court is interfering with churches and religious groups.
These conflicts are not just “out there,” but they are a part of my life. I have many black friends, and a cousin who is a police officer in North Carolina. Two of my close friends in Rhode Island who are African American were stopped one night coming out of Newport, pulled over for no reason other than the fact that they were black, driving a nice car, and in an exclusive part of town. I am a registered Democrat and a liberal, and my closest family members are Trump supporters and conservative in every way. My sister-in-law regularly makes posts on Facebook that call liberals and Democrats by impolite names and blames them for trying to destroy democracy, as well as a host of other ills. I know of many families divided by politics, to the point that they cannot even discuss the topic anymore. I have been rejected by members of my own family because I am gay, and I know people who were actually put out of their parents’ homes when they were young because of their sexual orientation. These political and societal issues hit very close to home for me.
I have looked at many pictures of people in recent weeks, looked at their faces, wondered about their lives. There are the pictures of the exhausted doctors and nurses treating COVID-19 patients, and of the patients on ventilators. There are also pictures of those patients finally able to go home from the hospital. I have seen families gather outside assisted living facilities and nursing homes to wave to elderly loved ones on the other side of the window. There have been faces of black men and women killed by police, and angry demonstrators looting stores and setting cars on fire. There were the police officers standing and not reacting with force even when crowds shouted at them and threw things. And there were the officers who killed young black men. There were jubilant faces on the steps of the Supreme Court and people waving gay pride flags. And there were other faces, people not so happy about the ruling.
And I have reminded myself as I look at each one of those faces that this is a person who matters to God. I am aware that saying Black Lives Matter is significant in many ways, because for too long and for too many people, black lives haven’t mattered very much. And I am aware that saying All Lives Matter is not an appropriate response to the injustices suffered by African Americans. But there is a deep truth that every life matters to God, every person is important and of value to God. We are all children of God, loved unconditionally and given grace and mercy every single day of our lives. God even knows how many hairs are on our heads! We are significant simply because we are God’s children. We have worth and value because we were created by God: white or black or any other skin color; male or female; gay or straight; liberal or conservative; Democrat or Republican; civilian or police officer.
When God’s children treat each other like God’s children, when we see each other’s worth and value through God’s eyes, we create a world where people are not discriminated against because of the color of their skin, or called names because of who they voted for, or accused of treason because of what political party they support, or labeled as sinners just because of their sexual orientation. In a world where we embody God’s vision for faithful living, there would be justice for everyone, there would be respect for each person, there would be compassion for all who suffer, and there would be a desire to serve others.
My heart has been broken so many times in recent weeks as I have watched the worst of human nature present itself. A black man dying with a white man’s knee on his neck. COVID-19 cases spiking because people refuse to follow common sense requirements for social distancing. A gay woman being told that she is a sinner just because of her sexual orientation and that she is tolerated only because she is a family member. A black woman crying as she tells a news reporter that all she wants is to be able to have children and not have to worry about them being killed. A woman on Facebook mocking the decision of the University of Georgia band decision to stop playing the theme from “Gone With the Wind” at the end of football games.
But I have tried to take note of the signs of God’s hand at work, too. The police officers kneeling in support of the peaceful demonstrators. The COVID-19 patients able to leave the hospital after weeks being near death. The decision of Quaker Oats to get rid of the “Aunt Jemima” brand. The white and black people standing together for equal justice. The fact that a conservative-majority court ruled in favor of eliminating discrimination against gays and lesbians.
I need a father right now. And I am thankful that I have a good earthly father who lets me know that I am loved and respected, who made me feel safe as a child and confident as an adult. But I am even more thankful that I have a heavenly Father who loves all of us as his children unconditionally, who works for us and in us and through us to bring about a world where we all feel loved and cared for and protected. On this Father’s Day, I hope you can also feel that gratitude in your heart.
