"What I Know"
Psalm 77:1-2; 11-15 and Luke 9:57-62
Yonce Shelton, Westmoreland UCC
June 29, 2025

In my sermon a few weeks ago about playing with God, I shared how a lectionary reading (Proverbs 8) related to a book I was reading (Playground) in some pretty interesting ways. I made the point that God wants our relationship with God to include play. I shared a fun example of how God played with me: that I wrote my sermon about Proverbs 8 with a few pages left in the book, to later find Proverbs 8 in those final pages!

Soon after, JoJo commented to someone that she didn’t realize I used the lectionary readings, which are scriptures chosen for Sundays and other days by liturgical powers that be and that many churches around the world use. She thought I figured out what I wanted to say and then found scriptures to back it up! Bless her little heart. But seriously, that can be an approach and none of you should feel bad for thinking the same. It's just that I try to lean a different way in order to let Spirit guide me more than my bias and agenda. I doubt it always works.

I really believe in the power of God to reach us and work on us via scripture. I believe scripture can help guide us, surface what is important from within us, and give us direction and insight. It can bring new inner awareness – not simply confirmation of prior beliefs or a way to feel good about what we already know. That takes some degree of trust and I have done my best this week to lean into that trust and see how a sermon on a big matter takes shape, starting with the simple recognition of two things weighing on me: 1) the bombing in Iran; and 2) my lack of knowing what to say about it. A simple start with complex possibilities.

What does the bombing mean to me? Why does it anger me – or not? If I don’t express anger, does that mean it's not there? Or have I instead tapped into something else?

Years ago while working on a counseling degree, I learned that just because I don’t express an emotion doesn't mean it's not there. It can mean I’ve gotten good at suppressing it, ignoring it, not acting on it because it scares me or I like that better than letting it out. I have also come to understand that beneath anger lies sadness. Oftentimes, to get to the root – sadness, fear, something else - is healthier and more productive than focusing on anger or action.

I think I am sad. I think I am sad because of the bombing – but not just because of it; because of all the heartbreaking things going on now. I can feel that way regardless of whether I, you, or anyone else thinks the bombing is “just” or will ultimately save lives. This is not really about that. I’m not sure that's the right spiritual focus for now, at least not for me. And the part of me that lacks confidence and conviction prays that that is not some sort of cop out.

That's where I have been this week. Where I am still. And the best response or posture I have now is to ask myself: amidst all I do not know and can’t control, what do I know? What do I know?

I know I am sad, like the Psalmist who hopes for the redemption of a people; who cries out and stretches out to God; whose soul is not comforted. “Crying audibly signals a sense of agency on the part of a self who has a relationship with God” and displays “an underlying certainty that this lament matters to God.” The Psalmist is in relationship with God and refuses to hide or avoid God.1

It is good to use my voice. I am doing something that matters spiritually.

The Psalmist also remembers the great things God has done. That resonates with me. Trying to trust in a God who is big and has proved God’s power - while being far from comforted or at ease. It's a tension that is often there for us. Maybe a time like this heightens it.

It is good to name tension. Good to know that God is in it with me.

I know I am restless because, like Jesus in the Luke passage, I don’t feel like I have a place to rest when it comes to questions about the future. I don’t fit neatly in a camp that seems so sure. And – and – I am worried that, like Jesus’s potential followers, I don’t have the right focus and priorities. I’m not even sure I know if I want to be right, if that's good, or if being uncertain is best! And to really follow Jesus - to leave things behind on the spur of the moment – with all of this uncertainty? Hard.

But, this passage about leaving all behind is not as stark as it seems. It's really trying to convey that all in life is secondary to relationship with God, and we must be very discerning about our priorities. But still, it's a tough one. It requires some degree of what the mystics call detachment2 – healthy separation from worldly things and desires. Easier said than done.

The questions are just so huge. I’m unlikely to fully figure out how all these national and international challenges connect; what the solutions are; what it takes for us to get to a better place. So I am left with a very real question. The question that some say is the central message of the Bible: Do I TRUST God? If I do, how does that inform my living and being? And how do I ACT in response? Am I called to more deeply address one small ill of the world that is part of this web we live in; that ultimately connects to war and violence?

To what do these lectionary passages call me? I doubt they will produce an explicit action plan relevant for our current context. There seem to be invitations, but they are the scary kinds. I simply don’t know what else to say other than that right now.

This is me. This is what I know. I hope and pray God can work with that in ways that are useful. Somehow. To someone.

Bishop Thomas Hoyt Jr. says that “testimony is shared practice, where one speaks his or her truth to the community … When one testfies, others must be present to receive and evaluate the shared communication. Testimony or witness occurs to encourage others and affirm what God has done.”3

You get to evaluate my truth – and what it means for your truth right now. Whereas a few weeks ago definitely felt like playing with God, this feels like wrestling with God. Such is true relationship. Maybe you just asking the question – what do I know? – can somehow help. Maybe it helps you nurture relationship with God in ways that help you pursue what basic, practical knowing means. Maybe it helps you cry out.

Amen.

1 Cheryl A. Kirk-Duggan, Feasting on the Word Lectionary Commentary
2 Elaine A. Heath, Feasting on the Word Lectionary Commentary
3 Cheryl A. Kirk-Duggan, Feasting on the Word Lectionary Commentary