By Joanna Lawrence Shenk, a pastor at First Mennonite Church of San Francisco

A sermon on Psalm 85:8-13

Thank you, Sarah, for that reading which offers us a compelling vision of the kindom of God. The writer of this psalm is reflecting on who they know the Divine to be – one who brings peace and thriving to a community – to the land and the people. There is so much beautiful imagery: love and faithfulness meeting, justice and peace embracing (or kissing!). Fidelity sprouting from the earth and justice leaning down from heaven. It’s an ecosystem of care and connection. The writer has a trust in something greater that is holding the world. They were part of a community that they knew was held in the care of the Creator. 

Given the national and global happenings of recent days, weeks and months, some of us may say “well that sounds like a nice little image for a children’s bible, but how does it relate to the mess of a world we’re living in?! Where exactly are justice and peace kissing each other right now?” 

Without a doubt, many of us have heavy hearts this morning (and what a balm to celebrate the life of little Joaquin as he was dedicated in this congregation today). We see and feel the way that capitalism is crumbling down on top of the most vulnerable. We grieve and we rage at the ongoing environmental polycrisis. We’ve said no over and over again to the bombardment of Gaza and yet the missiles paid for by our tax dollars keep raining down on Palestinians, destroying life. 

Many are dreading the upcoming election and are fearful of escalating violence and deteriorating democracy. Within this congregation I know we are well aware of ways that many of us are benefiting from unjust systems that steal land, wealth, and labor. Each of our experiences are unique in terms of how we have been and continue to be diminished and impacted. And I imagine many of us are carrying personal heartaches this morning as well. 

This is a lot, so I want to take a deep breath here. All of what I said is true and yet it is not the only truth. 

What is also true is our connectedness to the great body of creation. We are creatures among creatures, held in the web of life. Notions of separateness (or human exceptionalism) are untrue but it is quite a challenge for us modern people to really recognize that lie. In my experience, so much anxiety is rooted in this belief that I am separate – that I will be cut off or abandoned if I mess up – or that it’s all on me to figure out how to do the right thing to save the world or myself in whatever way. 

Ironically it might be easier to see my entanglement in all that’s wrong in the world, rather than my connection to beauty, community, and abundance. We are connected and tangled up in the web of relations – held by an earth that is ever generous, even in the midst of crisis. 

Over the weekend I was talking with my friend and theologian, Jim Perkinson about these themes. As a sidenote, last month he published a book titled, “Political Spirituality in the Face of Climate Collapse: Of Monsters, Megaliths, Mules, and Muck,” which I know will be a fascinating read. 

In our conversation he reflected in this way about our connection to the great body:

“Pay attention,” he said, “to the bigger world that you didn’t create (nor did any other human). She is our elder and teacher and to whom we are accountable. We are invited to give ourselves as a gift to this wider world of beauty. This disposition decenters us. It is about enabling the flourishing of the land and creatures. Ultimately it’s not about ‘my’ healing, but the greater healing in which I am participating.” 

When we refocus attention outside ourselves we open ourselves to all kinds of relationships. How are we relating to the more than human world? They are alive and speaking. Are we paying attention? Are we listening? 

I admit practicing this kind of listening and attention can seem strange to our modern sensibilities, to those who grew up in Western cultures. But maybe those are sensibilities we should question. Who benefits from an ideology that says that the natural world is not alive and speaking to us? 

It is a very recent phenomenon in human history to NOT see the natural world as a living, breathing, speaking being. We find evidence of this animacy all throughout our sacred texts. In our scripture today, the Holy Oneness speaks peace, and fidelity sprouts from the earth and justice leans down from the sky. Later we’ll sing about the trees of the field clapping their hands.

How might our disposition to the chaos of our world shift if we are rooted in the truth of our connectedness to this living, breathing great body and are ever praising the abundance that sustains life? How do we practice this connectedness and this gratitude? 

It can be as simple as greeting the living beings we encounter throughout the day – thanking the plants that live in our homes, loving on our pets, greeting the trees on our street, and thanking the rocks for their steadfast presence. It can also be celebrating the precious new life of Joaquin in our web of community life!

In the park near our house there’s a large rock, big enough for a handful of people to sit on, that I’ve started to visit regularly. The top of this rock is covered in pock marks – they are smooth and circular with varying degrees of depth. These indentations were made by Chochenyo Ohlone speaking people who processed acorns on this rock for I’m guessing many 100s of years. Beside the rock there is a small pond where tule plants grow. These plants were used by Ohlone people to make their huts and boats pre-colonization and the practice continues today.  

As I sit on the rock I thank the rock for her enduring presence and wonder what she might have seen in her long life. As I spend more time with her I am also curious in what she might have to tell me, but I need to develop my listening first. This rock is my elder and I want to stretch myself to be faithful to this relationship in all of its mystery. This may sound crazy or nonsensical, but I again ask, who gets to determine what “makes sense.”

In her book “Hospicing Modernity,” Vanessa de Olivera Andreotti writes,

“Sense-making has been elevated, rewarded, and amplified by modernity to the point where it overrides all other senses. We tend to only legitimize what makes sense: what can be understood through a chain of words. As a result, a whole world of unsayable possibilities is dismissed as meaningless.” 

In light of this she invites us “to a disposition that is receptive and can integrate what is communicated by the bio-intelligence of the planet, including what can and what cannot be expressed through words.”

We are connected and tangled up in the web of relations – held by an earth that is ever generous. We are creatures among creatures, a part of the great body of creation. So we kindle these relationships with the more than human world and with each other to be recalled to this truth. We kindle these relationships because they are a source of joy. 

They ground us in what is true and sacred as we do all we can to stand with Indigenous peoples against extraction. They ground us as we do all we can to stop the bombs dropping in Gaza. They ground us as we do all we can to protect our struggling democracy. They ground us as we divest ourselves from unjust economic systems and redistribute wealth. 

The point is not saving or fixing the world or absolving ourselves, as if we can achieve the solution to injustice and then breathe a sigh of relief. That makes it about us and our lifetimes. It is all so much bigger. We are part of a web that holds our ancestors and is holding Joaquin and the generations that come after him. 

Remembering and practicing our connection to the great body helps us develop the capacities to be present in the unresolvable tensions. We are not alone. Together let us walk a path that stretches far beyond our lifetimes, making a way for justice and for peace.    

With the psalmist may we put our trust in the holy One – the sacred Oneness – the great body, that is forever speaking peace and weaving us in the web of life that stretches through all of time. May it be so. Amen.