Spiritual DNA
Remembering those who have gone before me in faith
honoring those who have died
makes a complexity of sorrow and dreams
If I could trace my spiritual lineage
who would my ancestors be?
I know the Irish Catholics would claim more than one Pope,
Several priests, and countless nuns,
and maybe a few saints
the Presbyterians, Methodists, and Congregationalists
would name a few clergy
those women who sat in the back pews in days gone by
and maybe Calvin, Wesley, and Zwingli…
no doubt there would be grandmothers and uncles
grandfathers and cousins, aunties and neighbors
I would add ministers and professors, bankers and builders,
ones in their right mind and ones not quite so
Yet I want to go further back
war protestors and those who fought for freedoms
gay rights activists and equal marriage advocators
Civil Rights Marchers and women’s vote attainers
those who opposed Hilter and the Holocaust survivors
welcomers of immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers
abolitionists and ones whose dreams led them beyond the
possible
innovators and dissenters
entrepreneurs and inventors
world-changers, peace-makers, justice-
seekers
And let’s not forget the risk-takers and pioneers
ones who did their own thing, in spite of fear and rejection
I also know that my spiritual DNA holds other truths
those who conquered rather than coexisted
those who claimed superiority and denied equality
those who murdered, destroyed, decimated in the name of
power
These are the ones I’d rather not claim
yet I will not ignore or silence the ugliness of the past
The great cloud of witnesses reaching into my life
insist on truth telling, unmasking false histories
of death and denial
Other voices cry out to me, reminding me that none journey alone
those who lived through plague and pandemic
sickness and drought
recession, depression, recklessness, and worse
to make it to rebuilding
Those who survived the only choices available
prostitution, institutions, addictions,
adultery, and abuse
ones who almost lost themselves in the void
of anger, grief, loss, shame,
discrimination, dismissal, devastation
and ones who extended a compassionate hand
to save the lives of the desperate,
despairing ones
I give thanks for all the Jobs, Marys, Peters, Pauls,
Mirams, Deborahs, Eves
and the nameless ones –
the women at the wells, the sick and broken ones,
the forgotten and overlooked ones,
the healers and the healed
and the ones who turned away in tears
All of these and many more reached through the ages
one life at a time
living their faith loud enough
to shape me
my faith
my life
I remember
I give thanks
asking that my faith remains visible
through pandemic, politics
illness and grief
from the highest mountains to the lowest valleys
that I might join the great cloud one day
having contributed to someone’s spiritual DNA
RCL: Year A All Saints’ Day October 31, 2020 Revelation 7:9-17 and Psalm 34:1-10, 22 • 1 John 3:1-3 • Matthew 5:1-12