Every human life is a kind of “guest house” — and every day new guests “arrive.”
The 13th century Persian poet known as Rumi, in his poem “The Guest House,” sees life as a series of encounters with strangers: joy, anguish, meanness. And we learn from each of our “visitors.” The poet urges us to “welcome and entertain them all.”
The Guest House by Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
The poem reminds us to be who we are with whatever life brings to us. Whether it comes in as a joy or a sorrow. Whatever subtle faith we can muster to the current moment will help guide us into our future.
That new arrival this year for all of us has been Covid-19. It has brought death front and center. 80,000 dead in about two months has also brought the fear of death back into our conversations.
And yet, Covid-19 deaths have disproportionally affected some communities more than others. The Navajo Nation has been hit particularly hard. Nursing homes and places of assisted living too. And so too have prisons and jails. By one count, people of color have suffered greatly from Covid-19.
The sad story I read of one person who couldn’t make bail (he didn’t have the money), died sitting in jail from Covid-19 for a minor offence. It seems that Covid-19 will be a death sentence for many of the forgotten in our society.
Which makes me think about our reading from the Acts of the Apostles.
Stephen had been called to serve when a need arose among some of the newest Christians. In Acts 6 we are told that his ministry was “full of grace and power, he did great wonders and signs among the people.” That work put him into conflict with others who did not see his work as a call from God. There were some who looked upon him with evil in their hearts.
They said to the Jewish council – “We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and God.” Stephen then speaks in his defense, for he had not blasphemed at all and he speaks in defense of his faith in Acts 7. Our reading this morning is the conclusion of that chapter and the story of Stephen. They were enraged by what he said, for he challenged their reading of Scripture and their ignoring the prophets of old and of not recognizing Jesus for who he was; they dragged him out of the city and stoned him to death.
They laid their coats at the feet of one who gave his approval of this death sentence, a leader from the tribe of Benjamin and a Pharisee, Saul, whom we know today after his conversion on the road to Damascus as St. Paul.
Stephen was unjustly murdered.
There are too many today in our country who are likewise murdered, some for hate (like Ahmaud Arbery gunned down in GA because he was jogging while black), and some for negligence, the forgotten, the marginalized in prisons, native reservations, nursing homes…
It gets me thinking about the book (and movie) Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson.
“Well, I wrote Just Mercy because I think that our criminal justice system, and what happens to millions of people in this country is largely unknown. We literally have walls blocking people from seeing what happens inside jails and prisons, and these trials take place in largely empty courtrooms. I don’t think that we have a good perspective on what’s happened over the last century.”
Bryan Stevenson has dedicated himself to defending death row inmates after what he learned of faith & justice at Eastern University in Philadelphia collided with what he was taught at Harvard Law School. His ministry combines his work as lawyer with his faith for Stevenson turns frequently to the Bible.
He quotes from the Gospel of John, where Jesus says of the woman who committed adultery: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” An elderly African American woman once called him a “stone catcher.”
“There is no such thing as being a Christian and not being a stone catcher,” he says. “We have to be willing to stand in the place of those wrongly condemned, those disfavored communities in our country and across the world… we have to bear their burdens and stand up and catch the stones cast at them, then we make a statement about our faith that is transformative.
But that is exhausting. You’re not going to catch them all. And it hurts. If it doesn’t make you sad to have to do that, then you don’t understand what it means to be engaged in an act of faith....But if you have the right relationship to it, it is less of a burden, finally, than a blessing. It makes you feel stronger.
We know something about grace and mercy. We know that we are broken but our brokenness doesn’t define us, it just opens us up to what grace and mercy can do.
Churches must choose. We can be stone throwers or stone catchers. Or, after the manner of Saul of Tarsus, we can hold the coats for those who throw the stones in the mistaken belief that this absolves us of responsibility...”
I think Bryan has Rumi’s poem in mind. Grace and mercy can open us up as we greet all that comes to us. But we must choose, How will we catch those stones thrown during Covid-19 at those must vulnerable in our society? What will be the guiding principle of the houses we each live in?
In today’s Gospel, Jesus promises that he goes to prepare a place for us in the dwelling place of God. But the place we have now — our life in this time and place — is our entry way to God’s house.
The guests who come to our house, as the poet Rumi writes, are encounters with the holy, and our ability to welcome them — whether they bring enlightenment or fear, happiness or grief — illuminate the way to our next house in the dwelling place of God.
In taking on the work of compassion and reconciliation that Jesus, our Risen One entrusts to us, our guest houses become part of God’s house in our midst; we help establish the reign of God in our time.
“We have always faced adversity in this country; it’s come from different places at different times. But there’s always been a community of people who are willing to fight and respond to these challenges. People who have been willing to stand when others say, “sit down,” to speak when others say, “be quiet.” We can stand on the shoulders of those folks and believe that – even when we’re hearing a lot of things that are ignorant, divisive and destructive – we can be witnesses to something better, something transformative, something that moves us to a better place.” (Stevenson)
May our homes be that witness today. Amen.
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