First, watch this 5(ish)-Minute Sermon from Rev. Dani Hillyer… then keep reading.
People can be so horrible sometimes. They can burn the fragile trust bridges we work so hard to build out of the kindling of our lives with even the smallest spark of cruelty. They can set our lives ablaze and then walk away like they had nothing to do with it. They can hurt us, scare us, manipulate us, and terrify us, and then unbelievably, they can blame us.
Trust is such a fragile element. It’s boiling point is only one degree away at all times. Trust is combustible and explosive.
And yet, our whole lives depend on it.
The feeling of never being able to trust someone again is familiar to many of us. In fact, a lot of the people you will pass by in the grocery store today, or on the city bus, or on your block, or in your apartment building… they will be quietly walking through the bog of distrust. They will have been hurt enough times — sometimes with one massive blow that discolors everything, and other times through countless tiny pricks that slowly wear away their thin protective layers — that they simply can’t see others as anything better than a threat.
And yet, our whole lives depend on our ability to trust others.
Losing trust in the world is a dark (completely understandable) hole to find oneself in. It’s terrifyingly lonely down there. It’s discouraging and limiting. There is only one way out,: it involves lowering your defenses, softening your stance, and opening your heart wide enough to get hurt yet again.
Our careers are built on a scaffolding of trust.
Our families flourish only when trust is at the foundation of our home.
Our faith communities crumble immediately when trust is removed from the culture.
Our entire societal system rests on a cracked but resilient bedrock of trust.
Jesus knew about trust. And distrust.
Judas infamously betrayed him. Terribly. Painfully. Fatally.
And in the very moment of betrayal, Jesus still calls him “friend” (Matthew 26:50).
I don’t think I’m that strong. Actually, I know I’m not. I doubt many of us are. To be marked for death with a kiss by one of your closest companions, and Jesus (who, according to the stories knows what Judas is doing to him) calls him “friend.”
I like to believe that Jesus was, in fact, so strong that he was including Judas (the ultimate caricature of betrayal) when he says on the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)
Love. Forgiveness. In the face of wicked acts.
Not animosity. Not hate. Not revenge.
Is the climax of the Jesus story really just a challenge to all of us to simply do what feels impossible? To forgive? To love? To offer grace? No matter what?
I don’t know. Honestly. I don’t know.
It’s one thing to write philosophically about how to live a good life. It’s an entirely different thing to live it. It’s an entirely different thing to have a horrible wrong done to you or a loved one and actually choose to trust again
I hope I keep choosing love. I hope I keep choosing to trust. I know how fragile trust is. I know how deep and dark the hole of distrust can be.
Dani’s sermon about the kind people on the bus… and then the bus driver… and her husband saying, “You can trust people again.” That message hits deep. And it reminds me that we’re supposed to be the ordinary angels who help people restore the thin fragile layers of trust they can use to bravely climb out of their holes. We are supposed to create the little moments of sacred human connection that can restore (at least temporarily) trust that has burnt to the ground in others’ lives.
I’m not sure we have to be Jesus-level forgiving and grace-giving. But we can do what the kind lady on the bus did… and we can do what the thoughtful, generous bus driver did. We can do these tiny acts which rebuild the rickety trust framework of our lives.
We can be ordinary angels. Our work of sacred connection doesn’t have to seem miraculous, but it can help restore the little bit of trust people need to climb out of their holes and see the loving light of hope again.
A BLESSING FOR YOUR WEEK
Gracious and loving God, thank you for the opportunities within the ordinary. The opportunities to show up with presence and kindness. Offering shalom... welcome. Offering ourselves as spaces for the divine to work miracles. Thank you for the radical healing that we encounter simply by just showing up and being who we are. Amen.
QUESTIONS FOR GROUP DISCUSSION
1. Do you have stories of encountering everyday angels?
2. What does your faith teach you about trusting people and about being open to sacred encounters?
3. In what ways does our society make it easy for us to feel like we can't trust anyone?
4. How can you be open to miraculous encounters this week? How can you find opportunities to show up in ways that might be a blessing for others this week?