Reflection for Sunday – April 6, 2025

Readings: Isaiah 43:16-21; Philippians 3: 8-14; John 8: 1-11 
Preacher: Brigit Hurley

Yesterday I held my 5-day-old grandson Levi for the first time. As I marveled at the miracle of his dark eyes and tiny fingers, I couldn’t help but think of Frederick Buechner’s words: “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”

Little Levi was born into a world that appears to be filled with terrible things happening right now. Democracy is under threat. Our public conversations are filled with judgment and hate. Human dignity is devalued. Headlines seem to mirror the Seven Social Sins Mahatma Gandhi adapted from Catholic tradition— wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, and politics without principle.

Richard Rohr speaks about “collective sin,” rooted in evil in which we are all complicit, “cooperative in the stupidity and evil and darkness of human history.” Pope John Paul II said it simply: “We are all responsible for all.”  Collective sin calls for collective action. It is in coming together that we will survive this disturbing moment in our nation’s history.

I believe we can make a difference, but I can’t silence a persistent question in my prayer lately that sounds a lot like Mary and Martha’s question for Jesus in today’s Gospel. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” I pray “Lord, if you really cared about the poor, the disabled, the migrant, the elderly, the marginalized — we wouldn’t be constantly reading about plans to harm them.” More bluntly, I plead “What’s the delay, God? What are you waiting for?”

Pastor and author Nadia Bolz-Weber says “I’ve started to think that our prayer is less how we get what we want and more how God gets what God wants because prayer isn’t an individual sport. If anything, it’s more like a relay race. It’s what we do for each other and what we do for the world. When we pray, we hold ourselves and our loved ones and the world up to God. And then we pass it off for the next person to do the same.”

I also resonate with something Mary and Martha send to Jesus in a message— “Lord, the one whom you love is ill.” Years ago, when my father suffered a stroke, I found myself repeatedly praying the words,” Lord, the one whom you love is ill.” It conveyed my sorrow and fear, but also my assurance that he was a beloved child of God. I was comforted by a sense that God grieved alongside me. I believe that God is mourning with us when we feel lost and scared, uncertain about the future of our country.

The story of Lazarus’ illness and death coveys to us that Jesus knows what it is like to lose a loved one. He lived in a broken world filled with pain and suffering. He turned to friends for comfort. Worshiping a living God gives me the courage to believe that my grandson will grow up in a better world. I can assure Levi that beautiful and terrible things will happen, but you’re part of a family now and you’ll never be alone. Don’t be afraid.

Brigit Hurley
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