General Synod -- Making the Invisible Visible

There was a phrase that became sort of a theme for me that resonated throughout General Synod:  “making the invisible visible.” It connected a lot of what I heard, saw, and experienced at Synod.

Maria Hinojosa.  That phrase used by Maria Hinojosa, Emmy award winning anchor and executive producer from NPR. She spoke powerfully about immigrants and immigration. By the end of her Keynote Speech there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Her gift is to help people see this as more than an “issue”; to give it a face, a name, and to see aspects of this situation too often overlooked or swept under the rug. She considers her calling to “make the invisible visible.”  We have a word for that in the church: “sacrament.” A sacrament is an outward and visible sign of inner, invisible grace. I wonder if she has any sense that what she does is sacramental – making visible the grace that too often goes unseen, and with it revealing how our response is unfortunately too often less than grace-full?
But even beyond that, isn’t that what Jesus called us to do:  make the kingdom of God visible here on Earth? The kingdom of God is here, right now, we just need to see it. And one of the things we do as disciples is to help make that happen – in ways large and small. If we understand our lives of faith that way, then what we do in God’s name is sacramental, and we ourselves become sacraments of the living God. What responsibility. What joy.

Wonder.  Some of the most powerful parts of General Synod this year were the theological reflections provided at the end of every plenary session by Quinn Caldwell and Rita Nakashima Brock. Quinn’s name may be familiar to you if you follow the Stillspeaking Daily Devotionals. Quinn currently serves as pastor of Plymouth Congregational Church in Syracuse, N.Y. Rita is a commissioned minister of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), who is a professor who studies moral injury, particularly among veterans of war. She has recently moved next door to Brite Divinity School in Ft. Worth.
After the morning’s plenary, Quinn spoke about “wonder” and “Wonder”. “Wonder” (capital “W”) is like awe in the face of our Awesome, Wonderful God. But Quinn then cleverly said that the way to open up to “Wonder” is to practice “wonder” (small “w”). For example: Instead of judging someone, wonder what is in his heart, wonder what his experience has been.
Quinn didn’t say it this way, but it seems to me that what Quinn was calling for was for us to be as sacramental as Maria – using to make the invisible visible – and open ourselves up to grace and God’s Grace – which is Wonderful.

Rainbow Scarves.  Since I was not a delegate, and so required to go to committee meetings, I took this time to volunteer working with the rainbow scarves booth. We had hoped to have 3,000 scarves to give people who took a pledge to oppose bullying, but we had – wait for it – 10,000!!!!!  There was a beautiful selection of all kinds of scarves for all over. People were taking two or three and giving them out to people they met around town – like the wait staff at restaurants – who were also willing to take the pledge. We opened box after box and arranged them for people to see and choose. We gave them out to members of the UCC local community to came for the Sunday afternoon worship. We wondered how we would ever be able to give them all away – but by the last morning of the conference there were none left.
What an amazing project! It spread such good will, such energy, and raised awareness of an important issue. There was a sense that if people were willing to put this much time and effort into making beautiful scarves like this, then this must be important – and I think they took the issue much more seriously. It reminded me of when I did door-to-door political campaigning:  People were so impressed that someone was willing to take their time and walk door-to-door in the heat to talk about a candidate that they were more open to hearing about the candidate who inspired us to do this work. The action itself – the walking – or in the case of the scarves, the creating – was the best testimony.
Here was a project that made the invisible, visible in so many ways. First there was just the mundane, physical aspect of it – as each box was opened and each new scarf was brought out into the light for all to see. Each scarf was a visible emblem of God’s love, expressed through the loving work of so many.
Then all of this for me was symbolic of the aim of the project itself, to raise awareness – make more visible – the problem of bullying, particularly against LGBT youth, which can also be invisible or remain hidden because of shame or fear. Absolutely a sacramental experience for me.

Fire and Light – Julian DeShazier. Senior Minister of University Church in Chicago (UCC/DOC). Pastor DeShazier led worship on Sunday night and he was marvelous. He began by donning his alter ego – hip hop artist “J.Kwest.” Through his music he powerfully reframed the promises of Jesus Christ as: “I will be your flashlight/I will light your darkness.” Jesus as the one who made God’s love visible on Earth, and continues to reveal God’s love – making the invisible, visible. Loved it!

More light needed -- or more of God's Vision.  Author, pastor, seminary professor, Rev. Martin Copenhaver gave the sermon Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed the sermon, which focused on a passage from Luke 7, where a woman crashes a dinner party for Jesus at the home of a Pharisee named Simon and washes Jesus’ feet with her tears and wipes them dry with her hair. Her actions only added to the scandal of her being there in the first place. She is a sinner – outcast. Upright people would act as if she doesn’t exist. Simon assumes Jesus doesn’t see her for who she is, because if he did he would treat her as invisible. So when Jesus asks, “Do you see this woman?” And with this question Jesus makes the invisible visible, and challenges others to do the same – to see her. Martin spoke powerfully about this being an apt description of our charge as followers of Jesus, and as the UCC: to see people that others may not see – the oppressed, marginalized, forgotten – and to lead others to see them as well.
     But it can be hard. Consciously or unconsciously we sometimes don't want to see, because then we would have to do something. At the least, we would need to relate to them as people, as individuals beloved by God. Amen.
But here’s the thing – juxtaposed with this powerful sermon were two other things that for me made this sermon and worship heavy with irony and challenge. The first was a little thing, and although the contrast was sharp, it also made me smile. During this sermon, in the quiet of the hall, a little girl maybe two-years old ran joyfully down the aisle that led right up to the lectern where Martin was preaching. She had escaped and was like a bright spirit on the loose in the hall – and few even noticed – except her mother who was frantically chasing her. I don’t know if Martin could see her – the lighting may have made that difficult from where he was standing – but he didn’t even look at her as she raced towards him down the wide aisle. He kept on preaching about how Jesus challenges us to see the people we don’t see. I saw hardly any heads turning to look at the child either, just focusing on the speaker on the stage. I don’t know if I would have seen her if she hadn’t run right in front of me, but I was captivated – both by her joyous energy and by the contrast with the still, silent crowd and the low-key sermon. And it made me think of how often we don't see children -- or see them as people we need to relate to and not just as appendages of their parents.
The second thing was more difficult and didn’t show us in a very good light. There was confusion in many of the worship services about when people were to stand and when they were to sit down. Understandably, when the spirit and energy ran high, people had a tendency to stand up, clap, dance, sing. That was great. The problem was that there were many people in wheelchairs and mobility scooters, many of whom were positioned at the ends of the rows in the aisles, or were sitting in the sections, transferred to a seat with their scooter parked in a space behind their section. When everyone else stood they could not see either the stage or the screens showing what was happening on stage. The standing people became a wall – a wall that seemed oblivious to those around them contorting themselves to find some crack in the crowd so they could see. All this was happening both before and after Martin’s sermon about seeing those who are often rendered or treated as invisible by society. It was an unplanned object lesson – happening right in front of us.
There was a lot of thought given in the worship and plenary sessions to making a number of groups welcome – many minorities were represented in the worship, there was an interpreter for the deaf, etc. But the challenge continues – because here was another group – those who cannot stand on their feet – that were, in the context of worship at least, treated as invisible. “Do you see this woman?” This one in the wheelchair? Apparently not.
  And maybe there will always be another group, other individuals, on the margins, rendered invisible. But at least let us see the ones in front of us -- sitting or running down the aisle.
This is the “affirming” part of “open and affirming” – another aspect of making the invisible visible – and we still have a lot to do. All of us.