The stories we sow
Thinking about America
We just marked the Fourth of July, and so I’m sorting through my conflicted feelings about this country… my country. In the lectionary this week, Paul writes to a group of early Christians trying to figure out how to be in community together. That is in many ways also the task of government and nationhood. So I am imagining this constructed entity of America as that: a community of people trying to figure out how to be in community together.
From Galatians 6:1-18
My brothers and sisters, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted.
Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves. All must test their own work; then that work, rather than their neighbor's work, will become a cause for pride. For all must carry their own loads. Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher.
Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow. If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh, but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit.
So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all and especially for those of the family of faith.
See what large letters I make when I am writing in my own hand! It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh who try to compel you to be circumcised--only that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. Even the circumcised do not themselves obey the law, but they want you to be circumcised so that they may boast about your flesh.
May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world. For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything, but a new creation is everything! As for those who will follow this rule--peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God.
As Paul writes, we reap what we sow. So what have we sown here in America, and what are we now reaping?
I do still believe in the seed once planted but still yet not realized, that all humankind is created equal. I believe the flawed men who founded this country touched upon some true brilliance in doing so – a brilliance dulled by the hypocrisy and cruelty of slavery and the genocide of indigenous peoples. These original sins are very much still woven into the fabric of who we are. The country that would, in the name of always taking more and more, violently steal the land from others and enslave human beings… that is the same country of robber barons, the prison industrial complex, overconsumption, staunch individualism…
And, alas, the bill that passed this last week.
You know, overwhelming us is a tactic of domination, and it’s working. I barely had the energy to follow the budget reconciliation bill over the last few weeks, as I watched an internment camp go up in 8 days here in my own state and defile our wondrous Everglades. Or as I tracked a new, 12-day war unfolding with Iran. I’ve played catch-up on the bill since it passed, and my heart breaks for people losing their healthcare and SNAP benefits while the rich get bigger tax cuts. I am deeply concerned about the historic funding of ICE, in light of that agency’s use of its power thus far. It is all dizzying. The disposability of people – beloved children of God – in the name of capital has undergirded so much of America’s story.
But America contains a complex web of stories and narratives about herself. There are incredible stories of resilience: of the civil rights leaders who demanded she deliver on her promise of liberty and justice for all; of immigrants and refugees who found new lives on this soil; of multiculturalism, with both its challenges and far richer rewards. When I feel down about this country, I remember that these are America’s stories and her heroes.
So yes, we are being overwhelmed in the reaping of what’s been sown, which is a very particular vision of America to serve a very particular set of people. I see legislators praying for the passage of a bill that will seriously harm so many people, and I take comfort in Paul’s words that God will not be mocked. Because God is surely at work in other places. There are plenty of other seeds, scattered and sown, in the story of America – seeds of resilience and resistance. And from them, there is a rich harvest that might sustain us, in the legacies of faithful folks like Cesar Chavez, MLK, Dorothy Day, John Lewis, Harriet Tubman, John Brown, Jimmy Carter… to name just a few I often turn to.
As we draw on the harvest of those who came before us, we plant our seeds, too. We can act on the hope that who we are as a country is not who we have to be. We can shape the American story around the people whose values we hope to live by… by, in fact, living by them. We can make their legacy our lived reality and build upon it.
Paul tells us, “let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time if we do not give up.”
I do feel weary these days. I suppose in part it’s because we don’t know when the harvest will be. If the harvest will come. It can feel like the small things within our limited capacity to do are futile. But things take time to take root and grow. It’s hard to reprogram ourselves to expect anything other than instant gratification (which is the exact tactic of consumer culture, to make us want and need that instant gratification).
Instead, could we see the larger scale? Could we operate under what indigenous wisdom sometimes calls Seven Generation stewardship: to see and trust in the potential of growth we may not live to see but that will benefit the seventh generation? Things feel big and scary and beyond our control, but this is just a moment in a larger story.
Do not grow weary in doing what is right. Even when it seems small or futile. We are connected in time to those before us and those after. We can trust that what we do matters.
Paul offers additional timely wisdom in this text: “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” This is how we sow goodness, through love and mutuality.
The story of America has so emphasized bootstraps mythology and an every-man-for-himself worldview that I don’t think we are very good at bearing one another’s burdens. My friends and I were just lamenting this morning how difficult it is for some people in our lives to care about an issue until it happens to them or someone they love. The policy choices in the budget reconciliation bill are certainly not made in the spirit of bearing one another’s burdens but rather in further burdening the poor for the benefit of the rich.
I find myself unsure what to even do against the onslaught of bad news, policies, military actions, things the president says and tweets. It is easy for me to retreat into my place of privilege as a response to my weariness. The grief of it all does not affect me directly (yet), and so I can go about business as usual if I want to. My white family, with our student loans already forgiven, multiple graduate degrees, good employer-provided health insurance along with good health, and ample safety nets are just fine for the time being. We are relatively unburdened.
But we are called on to bear the burdens of others. Which I think is another way of saying we have to give a damn even when it doesn’t affect us directly.
From my station in the world, how can I help bear the burdens of others?
Feeling the grief of it all is part of the equation. We have to feel what’s happening to stay human through it. Yet, once again, we risk being overwhelmed by the enormity of it. I’ll share advice I was once given, which was when there is too much pain happening all around and in the news… to focus on one story that breaks your heart and actually let yourself feel it completely. Let the sadness of it break your heart open, cry, yell, pray about it, feel it. We so often doomscroll through horror after horror, and this contributes to our inevitable numbness when we can’t fully feel any of it. When we focus on just one thing that is speaking to us, we can reclaim a bit of our feeling and our fullness. We can feel what we need to feel to process the traumas happening all around.
From this space, we bear some of the emotional burden, but we also transition into a solidarity mindset. We share just a bit of the pain, which turns into greater motivation to act, willingness to give of ourselves and our resources, and imagination for new ways to face our socio-political realities.
Absent policy that better reflects the law of Christ, I suppose we have to build other structures to care for one another, as we work to change the story of this country, now and for the seventh generation. We can sow mutuality and beloved community, harvesting strength and inspiration from those great exemplars in our history as we contribute our own seeds of goodness to this soil. While we can practice those values in how we exist within a civil government structure known as the nation state, we more importantly can still practice them while defying the borders and bounds of the state. How we vote matters, but how we are together may matter more. The law of Christ is unbounded by our social constructions, including government, country, and nationhood.
We can sow goodness, even now. We can change the narrative, yes, of America, but in changing the narrative of America, the idea of “nation” itself starts to fade in significance as mutuality and inclusion replace identity and borders. The story we plant and grow can be different than the one the rich and powerful try to impose.
That is a harvest worth hoping for. Worth planting even our smallest seeds of love to one day reap.
So do not grow weary in doing what is right.