Juxtaposition

I almost missed the insurrection.

Let me rephrase that. I did not see live TV coverage of the events that transpired outside and inside the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday. The ugly actions. The mayhem. During roughly the same timeframe in which the mob breached, swarmed, and desecrated the building and all that it stands for, I was mixing up a batch of Country Time Lemonade in the sacred kitchen of Bethlehem Emergency Sheltering.

It was my first time assisting with dinner prep for the 30 or so folks who would be seeking a hot meal and a safe bed at BES after having spent the day living on the streets. Four other seasoned volunteers showed me around the facility and taught me the drill. Mostly, I tried to stay out of their way as they turned ground beef and Tater Tots into an amazing feast.

At 5:00 p.m., the first seating got underway, with a second one set to begin at 6:30. In more ordinary times, all of the guests would crowd around tables together in the dining hall, but pandemic safety precautions call for the folks to spread out and keep distant these days. Those same precautions also prevent volunteers from circulating among the guests and eating with them, thus stifling some of the goodwill and comradery. Instead, the volunteers stay behind a Plexiglass shield that blocks most of the passthrough opening between kitchen and dining hall. Volunteers push disposable dinner trays through a narrow slot at the bottom of the shield and hope that kindness is conveyed through the food because all smiles go unseen behind masks. (Homemade, safely-bagged cookies do help.)

In spite of the equation in which barriers are added and human-to-human contact is subtracted, somehow the math works out in such a way that neighbors—guests and volunteers both—give and receive care, and no one goes to bed hungry.

By 8:00 p.m., the guests had filed out toward their sleeping quarters, the dishes had been washed, and the tables had been wiped down. I headed home just in time to turn on the TV and see congress resuming its agenda to certify results from the 2020 Presidential Election. In split-screen coverage, I saw footage of what had transpired while I had not been looking. I was horrified.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21

At about this time a year ago, we practiced the beloved Moravian custom of selecting a congregational Watchword—a blindly-drawn slip of paper on which was printed a scripture verse meant to be a guiding focus for the year ahead. It was Romans 12:21. While I never had any trouble understanding the “do good” part of the text, I have been puzzling about the “overcome evil” portion for 12 months now. Until this very week, I felt a little bit twitchy about using the word “evil” as a descriptor for the mess that was 2020. The pandemic has been disruptive, unfortunate and deadly, but it is a virus. A virus is not evil. Societal upheaval has been distressing, calamitous, and gut-wrenching with its underlying causes fitting firmly into the category of sinful. But evil?

The juxtaposition of Wednesday’s events has struck me. As I pull back from the lone Watchword verse and widen the spotlight ever so slightly, I see this:

If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12: 20-21

Wednesday’s attack does strike me as having been evil. I say this not so much because of the deplorable violence visible in scaled walls, smashed glass, and pooled blood beneath a dead body. I say this because of the chill that runs up my spine in seeing photos of the marauders’ faces as they stand on the dais in the House Chamber and put their feet up on the Speaker’s desk.  Their expressions are not proud or victorious. They are malevolent.

And all of this happened while I was putting applesauce in disposable bowls and searching for the ice machine scoop.

Overcoming,

Pastor Chris

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Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please use the Zoom link and password provided below, or join by phone if you do not use a device with a screen.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at  moravianpastorchris@gmail.com  or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702  

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

We are also continuing to offer Zoom Prayers on Sunday evenings at 6:30. We come together to share simply in intercessory prayer on behalf of our congregation, community, and world. We usually conclude by 7:00 p.m. All are welcome! 

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

  Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369