Righteous back talk

 

Habakkuk 1: 1-4; 2: 1-4
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
October 2, 2022

Photo of a protest march in Stockholm, Sweden in solidarity with the protests in Iran. Protest sign reads "Woman, Life, Freedom".

If Habakkuk had heard the phrase “everything happens for a reason” I think he would’ve lost his ever-loving…soul. Or any other platitude we hear when people don’t know what else to say in the face of suffering. I think sometimes we find these pithy sayings comforting because they are something we can hang on to when we’ve lost something precious and the only thing in our grasp is our grief.



Habakkuk is having none of it. He’s read the psalms that say, “wait patiently for the Lord”, about how much God loves justice and will never abandon the faithful but will keep watch over them forever. That’s a pretty bitter word to endure when you’ve been waiting for justice for years, your whole life, for generations, for centuries.



So Habakkuk takes his complaint directly to God and he uses the language of the psalms: “How long?” How long must we protest and the powerful ignore our cries for justice? How long must integrity be corrupted and the wicked continue their crimes? How long must the disabled and chronically ill isolate themselves while the rest of the world moves on? How long must trans kids and adults wait for healthcare? How long must Ukraine suffer violence and destruction? How long must the people of Puerto Rico wait for a functional electrical grid system? How long must the women of Iran be denied self-determination?



Getting angry at God is one of the most righteous things we can do with our anger and with our faith. For one thing, it means we haven’t given up. We still have hope that something can be done, that things can change for the better. It also means that for the moment we aren’t taking our anger out against anyone else. Often we lash out because it feels good or at least it feels better than being ignored. And for those who are oppressed, violence and rioting are the language of the unheard. Even though the cries of his people have gone unheard, Habakkuk has had enough of violence and bloodshed. He wants to know what God is going to do about it and he’s not going to back down until he gets an answer.



God doesn’t scold this prophet for his anger but instead offers a generous response. This God is not untouchable or distant but rooted in the suffering of those who cry “How long?” In the words of poet rupi kaur:



my god
is not waiting inside a church
or sitting above the temple’s steps
my god
is the refugee’s breath as she’s running
is living in the starving child’s belly
is the heartbeat of the protest
my god
does not rest between pages
written by holy men
my god
lives between the sweaty thighs
of women’s bodies sold for money
was last seen washing the homeless man’s feet
my god
is not as unreachable as
they’d like you to think
my god is beating inside us infinitely



This god tells Habakkuk to write the vision, the vision yet to be fulfilled, and make it plain so that it can be read on the run. A protest sign. A N-95 mask. A hurricane relief bill. A mail-in ballot. A tweet from Iran repeated again and again because the internet has been severely limited by authorities.



Today is World Communion Sunday, and I invite us to commune with the women of Iran. To commune with the death of a woman who suffered because she dared to be free: Mahsa “Zhina” Amini, a 22 year old Kurdish woman who was arrested and detained by the Guidance Patrol or morality police for not wearing a hijab and was beaten in the head 70 times by these police. She died of her injuries on September 16. Large scale protests have broken out across the country with women burning their hijabs demanding justice for Mahsa. The government of Iran has tried to suppress the protests, shooting birdshot and metal pellets, using water cannons and tear gas, and blocking access to some social media apps. The crowds chant a Kurdish political slogan: Woman, Life, Freedom. This is their vision, their cry, their hope.



Repeat after me:

"Zan, Zendegi, Azadi"

Illustration by Italian artist Marco Melgrati, entitled "Cut It Out".  An animated graphic shows an Iranian woman freeing herself from the unjustified grip of Iran’s so-called Morality Police as she chops off a part of her hair, further letting go of the control.

With recent elections in Italy, Hungary, and Sweden, and this uprising in Iran, we understand that the fight for democracy is global. Indeed, it is the fight for humanity, for human rights, for self-determination, and for freedom. Our god can take our anger because she is angry too. Because her children are not listening to each other and they could destroy themselves. Because they are fed up with being misgendered and unheard. Because she has a right to exist safely in public space. Because God isn’t giving up on us and neither should we.

Benediction – enfleshed.com


Take heart, beloveds,
God is not distant.
She lives among us and, mysteriously…miraculously, within us.
So let us go in hope, let us go in courage,
we have company in our justice-making;
and our efforts towards liberation are blessed by Divine Love.