I wish you all peace and courage,

It has been a week that has brought reports of great suffering and crisis.

In Haiti: a massive earthquake, along with a tropical storm, all in the midst of great turmoil after the assassination of the president.

In Afghanistan: the capital falls to the Taliban in the wake of the chaotic end of 20-years of U.S. military operation.

There are ongoing civil wars in several countries, violent unrest in others.

We could scan the globe in a dismal litany.

In many places, floods.

Wildfires closer to home,

Hospitals overwhelmed by the ongoing pandemic …

It all can batter the heart.

So many who have already suffered so much are suffering even more.

So many who have already given so much to try to help that suffering are exhausted and even at a loss.

Just think of the nurses, the doctors, the veterans, the firefighters, the aid workers, the human rights and environmental and peace workers all asking: “Have my efforts been fruitless? My sacrifices in vain? God, where is your goodness in this?”

These cries are nothing new. There is nothing new under the sun.

Our ancient faith has been forged by and for times like these, it has been forged from cries to God in times of tragedy, cries to God in times of bitter absurdity, cries to God in times that call for re-doubled courage and compassion as we wrestle to keep the faith through fear and fatigue.

In the book of Ecclesiastes, we find a gripping confrontation with the impermanence of things, especially of what humans so proudly strive to achieve.

In the books of the Prophets we find damning condemnations of the hubris of power, how it tramples on the powerless and so often blows back in catastrophic consequences: “Sow the wind; reap the whirlwind,” as the prophet Hosea warned.

In the book of Job, we find an unflinching look at the staggering unfairness of how senselessly innocent people can suffer.

In the book of Psalms, we hear cries of, “My God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far, abandoning me as I groan in misery?” Psalm 22

Also in the Psalms, we hear words of tremendous comfort in the midst of this fear and confusion.

These words are not cheap or empty or some wishful flight of fantasy. No. These are words that have been forged by and for the fires of survival. This is the faith of those who know how to survive – survive not only in body, but also in spirit.

            I offer to you now the words of Psalm 46, the inspired sung prayer that has been remembered and echoed through countless crises for countless generations. This is a poetic interpretation by Nan Merrill, who was a Christian writer and retreat leader. This is from her book, “Psalms for Praying.”

Psalm 46

Version by Nan C. Merrill, from “Psalms for Praying”

The Beloved is our refuge and our strength,

a loving Presence in times of trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though

the earth should change,

though the mountains shake in the

heart of the sea;

Though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble

with its tumult.

There is a river whose streams

make glad the Holy City,

the holy habitation of the Most High.

The Beloved is in the midst of it,

it shall not be moved;

Our loving Creator is an

ever-presence help.

The nations may be at war,

                        countries left in ruins,

            yet is the Voice of the Almighty

                        heard,

            melting hearts of stone.

The Beloved is with us,

            the infinite Heart of Love.

Come, behold the works of the Beloved,

            how love does reign even in

                        humanity’s desolation.

For the Beloved makes wars to cease,

            breaking through the barriers of fear,

            shattering the greedy and oppressors,

                        refining hearts of iron.

“Be still and know that I am God.

            I am exalted among the nations,

            I am exalted in the earth.”

The One who knows all hearts

            is with us;

The Beloved is our refuge and strength.

“The One who knows all hearts

            is with us;

The Beloved is our refuge and strength.”

This is the song of those who have wrestled to keep the faith through fear and fatigue, who have persevered in living on behalf of the courage and compassion to which we are called by our Creator, come what may.

God doesn’t act alone in human affairs. To expect that is a mistake. I’ll expand on this more next week: the biblical testimonies and the stories of divinely inspired people through history make it clear that in order for ‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,’ our own wills must be transformed.

Wars cease when we are still and know that God is God. This is true every moment. This is our part on helping God’s love reign even in humanity’s desolation.

            One of the ways we can live in this way is by praying together, praying with one another, praying for one another, praying with the whole earth, praying for the whole earth, praying in a way that can shape our own souls into vessels for the love and power of our Creator.             So I invite us to pray together …

(Delivered August 22, 2021 at First Congregational Church of Walla Walla, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg)

Image by Dieter Fellmann from Pixabay