I have a soft heart. And too often, I’m afraid to say so.
I have been sitting at my computer for some time, waiting for a Sabbath Moment topic. But in my mind and spirit are two searing images, and the tears fall. Very young children zip-tied by armed soldiers, on the streets at midnight, separated from their parents. And very young children on the verge of starvation, held close by their mothers in the remnants of bombed buildings in Gaza.
I have two choices. I can close my eyes. Somehow hoping to stay insulated and “safe”.
Or, I can open my eyes, and let the tenderness of my heart be an instrument for healing and sanctuary and restoration and humanity. (“Lord make me an instrument of your peace.”)
Embracing Pope Francis’ reminder, “Tenderness is the path of choice for the strongest, most courageous men and women.” Yes, and Amen.
I do indeed want to embrace, and make choices—to give and to invest—from that grounding.
Because here’s the deal: in embracing my tender and open and soft heart, I’m not incapacitated or paralyzed, meaning that I am not at the mercy of the fear, or the anxiety. Let us embrace this together, and help create a world where sanctuary and restoration and healing and grace are touchable for the most vulnerable among us.
The images—of people in pain, people being abused, people suffering—give us a choice. This is why I have always resonated with the Gospel story of the Good Samaritan. A man is laying in a ditch, having been beaten, and left to die. Two pious men pass by, a priest and a Levite, seeing the man, but they continue to walk, without stopping.
The Samaritan stops. Why? Because he knew what it was like to be wounded too.
“He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him.” (Gospel of Luke)
You see, once we are open to a soft heart...
...we can give up our expectations and demands,
...we can have our stereotypes contradicted,
...we can embrace our brokenness and tender heartedness,
...and we find "There is a light in this world, a healing spirit more powerful than any darkness we may encounter." (Mother Teresa)
When we see with our heart, we are grounded. We are conscious—present—and no longer numbed. And tender hearts create sanctuaries for those left out and for those mistreated. So, if ever there was a time for the soft- and tender-hearted courageous women and men to step forward, it is now.
I like Thomas Merton’s take, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love.”
I talk a lot about the need for a paradigm shift. Think of paradigm as the glasses through which we see, and choose. Jesus was very intentional about paradigm shifts.
Consider the word, Kingdom. We know that Jesus spoke extensively about the “Kingdom of God”. But it’s our paradigm (glasses) that determine the way we interpret it. And Jesus threw his disciples (and us), a curve. Jesus invited his followers into a new way of life—what could be called “The Upside-Down Kingdom”—where society's values of power and top-down are reversed, highlighting the dignity of all people, especially the marginalized. A Kingdom that emphasizes love and generosity, responding to injustice with compassion, treating everyone with dignity, even those who have wronged you. A Kingdom that opens paths for reconciliation.
A Kingdom where (in the words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu), "If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor".
I loved what Pope Leo XIV said today: "Brothers and sisters, those boats which hope to catch sight of a safe port, and those eyes filled with anguish and hope seeking to reach the shore, cannot and must not find the coldness of indifference or the stigma of discrimination!"
Jesus made it simple, "Let your light shine."
Not, when you get your act together.
Not, when you feel noble.
Not, when you find a specific vocation.
Not, after you've chased all the gloom away.
Just let it shine. Because the light is already there. Inside of you. Now.
Today, I choose to honor the light. Today, I choose to say No to indifference.
One of my heroes, who did not choose indifference, is John Lewis. He wrote, “You are a light. You are the light. Never let anyone—any person or any force—dampen, dim or diminish your light. Study the path of others to make your way easier and more abundant. Lean toward the whispers of your own heart, discover the universal truth, and follow its dictates… Release the need to hate, to harbor division, and the enticement of revenge. Release all bitterness. Hold only love, only peace in your heart, knowing that the battle of good to overcome evil is already won. Choose confrontation wisely, but when it is your time don't be afraid to stand up, speak up, and speak out against injustice. And if you follow your truth down the road to peace and the affirmation of love, if you shine like a beacon for all to see, then the poetry of all the great dreamers and philosophers is yours to manifest in a nation, a world community, and a Beloved Community that is finally at peace with itself.” (Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America)
Our well-being is grounded in grace. Let me repeat that… Our well-being is grounded in grace. And grace is a voice much bigger than all the other attachments where we may park value or significance. We see that dignity alive in the hearts and souls of those around us. Now, courage takes on a new meaning. Giving us the permission to say yes to choices that invite more soft hearts in a world that needs them.
When we see with our heart, we know that, regardless of our differences, we are on this journey together. A tender heart affirms the inherent value in others, and asks, “What’s next?”
A sunny and windy Autumn Day here in the PNW, and I am mesmerized by the dried leaves doing circle dances on our patio, and in our driveway. My Oh My. You know, the crispy leaves, that crunch under your feet when you walk. Great memories from my Michigan childhood.
Quote for our week… “So we turn a blind eye when we think it is 'easier', or in our 'best interests' to do so and because the consequences of taking action are felt as frightening or unpleasant. It is painful to have your beliefs shaken or your position threatened and none of us are immune from making life simpler for ourselves. But the words of the philosopher Edmund Burke: 'the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing', are well worth taking note of.” Sue Cowan-Jenssen “Sabbath Moments” Terry Hershey
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