“Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” These are the words of Rabbi Tarfon, from the second century, in his commentary on the Hebrew Prophet Micah, who wrote: “What does the Holy One require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.”

How powerful for Rabbi Tarfon to name the experience of feeling something of the enormity of the world’s grief, and the challenge of responding with justice, mercy, and humility.

The fact that we can feel something of the enormity of the world’s grief, this is a signal of the presence of God in our lives. This doesn’t mean it’s pleasant – the Sacred is not always pleasant, but can be harsh in rupturing our sense of isolation. But if we are to experience just a bit of the world’s grief, and respond by not being daunted by the enormity of it, but rather with dedication to the ways that we can act justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now, on behalf of a vision far beyond the scope and effort of our single lives, a vision of a more just and peaceful way of life for all – this requires our reliance on a Higher Holy Power, nothing less than a living faith in the Creator of All that was and is and ever shall be.

This past week, more than a week now, has been for many a time of horror and heartbreak, due to the unspeakable, unjustifiable atrocities against Israeli civilians, at the hands of Hamas militants. This has been followed by the response of bombardment and siege against the people in Gaza, and the fears of what war could come and who else could be hurt if the cycles of retribution grow.

Now, I want to encourage us to be willing to stay with the grief of it all, the heartbreak. There is so much fear, yes, there is so much anger … I encourage those of us who are not directly impacted to stay with the grief, the sadness, the tragedy.

Before there can be calls for peace, there must be cries of grief.

May the memory of all those whose lives have been violently ended, be a blessing. May their memories be blessings, blessings …

Now, for those of us who are not directly impacted by this violence, this grief can lead us to feel other griefs afresh, what empathy does is draw us to consider, what if that were me? Which can lead us to remember the times we have felt pain and loss and fear. There are so many human experiences that could be causing us heartbreak these days, in our personal lives, but also due to the loss of life due to the other wars and atrocities raging in other parts of the globe, violence in our country – too often because of hatred or fear of threats from others antisemitism or islamophobia or racism or homophobia, transphobia, political animosity. And then as well there has been the tremendous loss of life and other losses from the increasing devastation from floods and fires and earthquakes, more than most people are able or willing to witness.

This has been a hard week, and these have been some hard years.

I need to name all of this, as hard as it is, so we don’t grow to assume this should be normal, so we do not let our hearts become hardened or numbed, but let God through Jesus keep them tender and strong

To bear what is unbearable, we need God, who knows all hearts and bears all heartbreaks.

We need the help of the heart of Christ – the universal love of our Creator incarnate, manifest in human flesh – the heart of Christ, who bears the suffering of the innocents, as well as the suffering of those whose grief has twisted into hate; the heart of Christ who bears the pain of all human sin on behalf of the promise of a more just and peaceful way of life in harmony with our holy origins.

It is an extraordinary fact about human beings that we can care about people other than ourselves. This isn’t just because of some freak mutation in the genes that produce our oversized brains. Our capacity for compassion is part of the gift of our consciousness to become aware of what is true in the world. That includes being aware the suffering of others, as well as being aware of things like the sublime beauty of the stars at night.

This gift of awareness can give us glimpses, mere glimpses but real glimpses of a God’s-eye view of the world, it can give us a sense, a slight sense but a true sense, of what God’s heart feels completely and fully.

If our faith is a faith in a God who is all-knowing, if our faith is a faith in a God who is all-loving, then our faith can support us having the courage to bear witness to another person’s grief, both near and far, without trying to deny it or dismiss it or fix it or make it disappear. Because God is with us – and, more importantly, God is with them – in embracing that experience of suffering.

This faith compels us to grow, slowly but steadily, in our capacity to bear witness to another person’s grief, with compassion, with mercy, with humility.    

This faith compels us to grow, slowly but steadily, in our capacity to bear witness to the grief of those for whom it is difficult for us to have compassion, as well as for those for whom it is easy.

This faith compels us to grow, slowly but steadily, in our capacity to not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief, to not get numb or to let inhumanity harden our hearts, but to stay clear in our hearts that it does not need to be this way, it should not be this way, that it is possible, and indeed is promised by our God, that all people can dwell together in safety and abundance and peace.

If we feel grief and outrage at any human act that destroys the safety of another, that destroys the abundance another needs to thrive, destroys the peace of another – this is a sacred signal to us that we the sacred possibility and promise of peace. 

This faith compels us to grow, slowly but steadily, in our capacity to do what we can, where we can, with whom we can, to contribute what we can to the great effort we inherit from those who came before to labor for a world where the heartbreak of violence and hate is no more, where our griefs do not harden our hearts and divide us and set us against each other, but rather compel us to strive to live as one.  

We are not obligated to complete this work, but neither are we free to abandon it.

I will conclude with a prayer by Rabbi Sheila Weinberg

Two peoples, one land,

Three faiths, one root,

One earth, one mother,

One sky, one beginning, one future, one destiny,

One broken heart,

One God.

We pray to You:

Grant us a vision of unity.

May we see the many in the one and the one in the many.

May you, Life of All the Worlds,

Source of All Amazing Differences

Help us to see clearly.

Guide us gently and firmly toward each other,

Toward peace.

And I will now add:

May all those under threat of harm be safe and well.

God, help us find a way out of no way, a way for peace

Amen

(Delivered Sunday, October 15, 2023, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge)