Lent Day 8: Circles of Influence

Abram's Counsel to Sarai, by James Tissot, circa 1899

"Rise up, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I will give it to you."
~Genesis 13:17

Today's lectionary offers a passage from Genesis that is about territory--whose is whose, and what is what. Abram and Sarai (not yet Abraham and Sarah) have only recently heard and followed God's call, at the ages of 75 and 65 respectively, to get up and go from the land where they had been settled for many years, to a new land that God would show them. Here, they have entered that land.

God is helping Abram to absorb the fact of what territory, according to Genesis, belongs to him. He wants Abram to walk it--the whole length and breadth of it (which would take some steps, I'm sure). 

Since November 5, 2024, I've had quite a few conversations with folks about "what is my territory," but not in a geographical sense; in a spiritual and moral sense. By which I mean, what is mine to do, in these days of chaos and the purposeful destruction of the US government? There was significant grief and distress all around me in those first weeks--and any catching up conversations inevitably lead back to our disbelief and horror. 

Here's the context for the "what is my territory?" conversation. Unless we are in public service, in the halls of power, or have some other extraordinary way in, 99.99% of us can do nothing directly to stop what is happening. We can call our representatives in congress. We can call and write letters to the top echelon. But we, personally, can't make change at the level where we're seeing the destruction. 

But we can do what we can do. Here's what I share when asked. First, we must take care of ourselves. We must put boundaries around information that work for us--everything from a total media blackout to "I'll look at the headlines," to "I want to know everything." We must figure out what information we need, and what information will trouble our souls and distract us from the actual beauty and love that surround us every day. We must get enough sleep. We must do our best to eat nutritious foods.

Second, we must intentionally make space for the actual beauty and love that surround us every day. We must seek out and abide in the joy we can find--in our hearts, in our relationships, in the simple pleasures. A cup of coffee with a friend. A walk on a sunny day. A really great book. A song. Words of love to those we love--say them now. 

Third, as followers of Christ, we must love our neighbor. In these days, that means being especially mindful of those who are at greatest risk: immigrants, trans people, those living on the margins economically, those whom cuts in Medicaid and Medicare will hit hardest. 

Fourth--and finally--we must find our territory, our circle (or circles) of influence. We must find ways to foster community, to bring people together for a simple potluck supper or an afternoon of knitting or a conversation. (I've heard it said that community will save us, and I believe it.) Crucial to this piece is knowing what our gifts are--the attributes that, when we use them, light us up and bring us to life. How can we help right where we are? There are always ways, always places, always opportunities to make a difference in other people's lives. Have you ever volunteered to tutor someone in your favorite subject? Or to deliver Meals on Wheels? Or to drive someone to doctor's appointments or the grocery store? Or to sit with them while they are having their chemo? What's your territory? Where do your gifts and the needs of the world-around-you intersect? 

The story of Abram and Sarai is a remarkable one in so many ways, and here's the one that still sparks wonder in me: They heed God's call at the time most of us are thinking about retirement. They know that they will be useful to God in some way, that they absolutely still have something to offer. They disrupt their lives, get up, and go. 

Not all of us can do that, but we can do more than we think, and more than we know. Find your territory. Take care of yourself, and of one another. Find/ foster your community. Find your joy.

And blessed be the name of the LORD.