Moving at the speed of trust

 

Luke 10: 1-11, 16-20
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
July 6, 2025

Screenshot of one of my tweets, dated June 11, 2025.  "I feel like humans are gonna have to learn how to be human again.  Could we please be on the same team this time?"

How can the kin-dom of God move towards us when we live so isolated from one another? Our individualistic Western culture, not to mention a pandemic, has made us suspicious of strangers knocking on our suburban development homes. If these organizers from the Jesus movement showed up on our front doorstep today, we’d point them to the “no soliciting” sign at the entrance to our neighborhood or watch them from our Ring cameras or our window until they left. It begs the question: What does it really mean to live in a neighborhood? People who live near each other?



Trust is precious and rare these days, especially if you’re part of a marginalized group of people, and most folx who are marginalized are part of more than one group. One way to define ‘marginalized’ is not feeling safe in public space, having to be on your guard because of who you are. And yet guess what is the largest demographic of gun ownership. White men. Which goes back to the very beginning of this nation. If there has been what could be called a relative peace in this country, it has not been due to the presence of a long-lasting justice but the absence or suppression of conflict.



We say that trust is earned, and yet that sounds more transactional rather than something shared between people. For me, trust is demonstrated. I can see it, I can feel it, I know it in my bones. And so, in order for me to know if someone trusts me, I have to be patient until they can see it, feel it, know it in their bones. Even so, trust is often fluid, a gut feeling, something that can change at the slightest betrayal or a simple kindness. Because it all really does go back to feeling safe. There is nothing more basic than that. And none of us can judge or assume what it takes for someone else to feel safe.



Which is why some folx are putting distance between themselves and people who support what is currently happening. Or people who are indifferent to what is happening or who are ignoring it. And when I say, “what is currently happening”, I mean immigrants being taken off the streets, from their jobs, their homes, their schools, and detained without due process in inhumane conditions. Our government passing a bill that will give tax cuts to the wealthy, paid for with sharp decreases in healthcare and food assistance for the poor. The Supreme Court upholding a ban on gender affirming care for transgender youth. A detainment camp constructed in 8 days in a flood zone called Alligator Alcatraz, complete with its own merchandise.



In order to be a trustworthy person, someone who is safe for those who don’t feel safe, you have to be capable of empathy and be able to deal with the discomfort that comes with it. It’s not about “feeling their pain” but feeling your pain as you listen to someone else’s. It’s looking at another person and seeing yourself. There’s not a squidgy neutral middle. You are either a safe person or you’re not, and it’s not up to you to judge or decide that yourself. Sit with that for a moment.



When Jesus sent these 72 organizers ahead of him into the towns and places he intended to go, he was honest with them, sending them out as lambs amongst wolves. They had to be willing to accept a certain amount of pain—no food, no bag, no extra clothing, no shoes, no money—just their wits and the gospel: the kin-dom of God has come near; turn around on your path and head toward God’s love and justice. The first thing they did when they arrived was to bring peace—shalom, wholeness—to the home. If that peace was returned, if it was a safe place, they were instructed to stay, cure the sick, share the gospel, and enjoy the hospitality given to them. If it was not a safe place, then they were to wipe the dust of that town from their feet in protest, but even then announce that the kin-dom has come near.



The kin-dom of God has come near, is near to everyone, everywhere but it’s up to us to decide whether we trust that offer. But it’s not just that there are people who are not ready for the kin-dom; there are many who are actively working against it. They are the wolves Jesus warned us about. They are not to be trusted. They are not safe people—they are not the good people they think they are, but they are still human. And the kin-dom is waiting for them too.



So, what do we do? First of all, we get on the Jesus train, the kin-dom train, the peace train. You’re either on board or you’re not. Which means you are choosing to be a person of trust, a safe person, to increase your capacity for empathy and for pain, because we’re going to be disrupting our lives for people.



And more importantly, like those organizers from long ago, we trust that there is a larger, deeper story at work than our own story. It’s the story we find at this Table. The story that says that evil has already lost. The story that says that death is not the end. The story that says we do not come to this Table alone. The story that says there is more than enough for everyone. The story that says love is bigger than the worst thing we’ve done and that it’s never too late to turn around and start over.



Peace to this house! The kin-dom of God has come near! Amen.

Benediction – enfleshed.com

Go forth practicing radical hospitality—
weaving your care into your community
even when it’s inconvenient
even when it’s fumbling and imperfect
for this is the work compassion asks of us.
And, hallelujah, we are not alone—
we are held in a Web of Love.

Amen.