‘The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down’ - March 10

Today’s Readings: Psalm 146; Judges 9:50-55; Luke 11:5-10  

Today’s Reflection

Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help! whose hope is in the Lord their God; Who made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them; who keeps his promise for ever; Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger. The Lord sets the prisoners free; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind; the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; The Lord loves the righteous; the Lord cares for the stranger; he sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked. Psalm 146: 4-8

Today is the feast day of Harriet Tubman, who escaped slavery to find freedom in Canada, but ended up returning to the United States where she helped hundreds of others escape to freedom in her role as one of the key conductors of the Underground Railroad. While it’s always appropriate to remember and honor the work of Tubman and others like her who have put their lives on the line to offer the hope of freedom to others, it’s especially timely this week as the House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church have been meeting at our own Camp McDowell.

Yesterday, 150 bishops went on pilgrimage to Montgomery, where they spent time reflecting on the legacy of slavery, segregation, and systemic racism in the United States. As they toured the sacred spaces of the Equal Justice Initiative’s Legacy Museum and National Memorial for Peace and Justice, and spent time with EJI founder and civil rights attorney Bryan Stevenson, bishops from around the Episcopal Church had the opportunity not simply to engage with our nation’s history but also to engage spiritually with the responsibility we all have as Christ followers to take up the cause of “lifting up those who are bowed down,” as we read in Psalm 146 (the Psalm appointed for the Feast Day of Harriet Tubman).

In my February 5 sermon on “Repairing the Breach,” I reflected with you on stories of how people around the Episcopal Church, including at Virginia Theological Seminary and at Sewanee, the University of the South, have been prayerfully discerning and then acting to do what they can to “repair the breach” and “lift up those who are bowed down” by the enduring legacy of slavery, segregation, and systemic racism in our country. At the close of that sermon, I shared these reflections:

Needless to say, talk of making reparations, removing icons, renaming streets and buildings, and any number of other actions meant to promote racial justice, healing, and reconciliation, can prove controversial for the people who make up a school, a church, a Diocese, or a community. Talk of such things may bring up, for some, feelings of guilt or defensiveness. We may wonder what we can do to atone for the sins of our ancestors, or to repair relationships and institutions broken by previous generations. Here is where turning again to the prophet Isaiah can help us begin to discern what God is calling us to do, as people in 2023 who are living both with the consequences and the advantages set into motion by those who enslaved and segregated and even lynched people solely because of the color of their skin.

And yet, as uncomfortable as this may make us feel, as Christians we are called, as the Apostle Paul said in 2 Corinthians, to be ministers of reconciliation; or as Isaiah proclaimed, we are called to rebuild the ancient ruins, to raise up foundations for the generations, to repair the breach, and to restore the streets to live in. So, it may help us to think of the different ways repairing the breach may play out. Sometimes, we are the ones who have created the breach, or divide, through what we have said or left unsaid, through things we have done or left undone. Other times, we are the ones who see the hurt someone else has done, and when we notice it, we then have a responsibility to do what we can to begin to make things right. And still other times, we may inherit a breach or hurt that someone else set into motion, long, long ago, as with those of us who have ancestors who enslaved others, or upheld segregating traditions, or chose to look the other way when someone in their town was lynched. I imagine that each one of us here today, myself included, can identify with at least one of these three scenarios: we have created a breach, we have observed a breach, or we have inherited a breach.

Ultimately, we are called to be repairers of the breach because we are called to live like Jesus, who through his incarnation—living and dying as one of us—brought God and humanity together for all time. Jesus repaired the breach; we are called to follow him and do the same. The work of repairing the breach was difficult, even for God. And so it is for us. This work we are called to do, as repairers of the breach, as ministers of reconciliation, requires the courage to confront great suffering and to consider great sacrifice. This work we are called to do will require our effort, our energy, our commitment, and our time. Slavery was a wound it took 400 years to inflict. We cannot be surprised if it takes 400 years to heal. We cannot wait another day.

Becky+

P.S. If you are interested in joining with others from Saint Stephen’s to make a one-day pilgrimage to Montgomery later this spring, please email me at becky@ssechurch.org and I will add you to the list of those who have expressed interest in experiencing this pilgrimage together.

Moment for Reflection

O God, whose Spirit guides us into all truth and makes us free: Strengthen and sustain us as you did your servant Harriet Ross Tubman. Give us vision and courage to stand against oppression and injustice and all that works against the glorious liberty to which you call all your children; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.