Sunday, August 4, 2019

Fierce Conversations


Fierce Conversations
The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling
August 4, 2019

            I chose to focus on the prophet Hosea this morning; for prophets are known to turn up the heat in the lives of God’s people. Speaking truth in love, in faithful obedience to God’s call, a prophet will describe the realities of what he or she sees and encourage people to change their behavior. They turn up the heat. As in Texas heat, “packing heat”, calling for “the heat” when violence erupts in your town.
            As the facilitator of the mentors for the recently ordained clergy in our diocese, I have been reading a book written by Susan Scott, entitled Fierce Conversations: Achieving Success at Work and in Life - One Conversation at a Time. Encouraging radical transparency, this author argues that careful conversation is a failed conversation. (p20) She believes that “our careers, our companies, our relationships, and our lives succeed or fail, gradually, then suddenly, one conversation at a time.” (p12)
I would also add so do our churches and governments. “Fierce conversations are about moral courage, clear requests, and taking action,” Scott writes. “Fierce is an attitude. A skill set. A mind-set. A way of leading. A strategy for getting things done. Fierce does not mean barbarous, menacing, or cruel. Fierce means powerful, strong, unbridled, unrestrained, robust. It means coming out from behind ourselves into the conversation and making it real. There will be no blood on the floor. No violence." (p 67)
God is fierce like a lion, said the prophet Hosea; and when God roars, “God’s children shall come (home) from the west, like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria.” Prophets are willing to describe the “ground truth of reality” and listen to the truth of others in fierce conversations. Like people who stand at various parts of an elephant, prophets see our world, our problems, and our solutions differently, and yet they still point to the elephant in the room! Having fierce conversations, one conversation at a time, is the way to better our future, if we’re willing to “pull the trigger” so to speak, and engage in these hard conversations. Together, like the heat this summer, we will fall and rise with our fierce and/or failed conversations.
            Hosea was a prophet living in the Northern Kingdom of Israel around 750 BCE. At that time, the country was divided into two kingdoms; the northern one was called Israel, and the southern one was called Judah. Hosea lived in the Northern Kingdom, which was ruled by king Jeroboam during a relatively peaceful time. He was followed by several  kings, many revolutions, and political instability because the “people anxiously searched for kings and allies who would save them from the dangers that threatened their national existence.” (HCSB, 1329-30) Hosea focused his prophecy on two things: the religious pluralism and flourishing worship of the God Baal, and the royal politics of the Northern Kingdom.
             Hosea reminded the Israelites of who God was and what God had done for them. “I have been the Lord your God ever since the land of Egypt; you know no God but me and besides me there is no savior.” (Hosea 13.4)  After liberating them from slavery, God asked them to live in faithful relationships by obeying the 10 commandments. “Thou shalt not murder” was one of them. Increasingly, the Israelites had broken their promises to God, and Hosea was now calling them out.
            This past Friday, I legalized and asked God to bless the marriage of a young couple in Massachusetts. In the six months leading up to their celebration of love, we had some fierce conversations. We talked about family, friends, and religion. We talked about contracts and covenants. We talked about what it means to be faithful to each other, and what their vows meant to them. We talked about how they both contribute to keeping their community safe in their jobs, one through education, the other through data analysis for the police department.
Infidelity never starts with the physical aspects of love. Rather it starts with someone’s spirit moving away from God. A God-centered world slowly becomes a self-centered world. Too much ego means “easing God out” of your life. Regardless of our religious tradition or lack of one, we become haters not lovers. Our minds wander; and we begin to think we’ve made a mistake, or that “they” are a mistake. There must be a better partner, a more powerful king, a wiser president, a more pure and perfect union or nation, who can save us from ourselves and be the answer to all our problems.
Emotions of anger, hurt, and sadness, fueled by our fears and anxieties, erupt unexpectedly. We hurl invectives; we cast aspersions. We become a house divided and make plans to defeat the “enemy.” We look for a savior, or launch a silver bullet, rather than have fierce conversations. With our guns blazing, there is blood on the house floor, in our streets, and on our hands. In the end, we hurt ourselves and others.
            When we begin to cast blame and shame on the other person or party, when we become a divided kingdom like the Israelites, we might ask the question, who moved? It wasn’t God. Hosea claims that the Israelites began to worship the god named “Baal” who was known as the “storm god who provided rain and fertility for their crops. It was as if the Israelites had begun going to the local bar rather than to the Temple in search of the Spirit. Like the farmer in today’s gospel, they wanted bigger barns for their salvation; and so “in their anxious search for kings and allies who would save them” they disavowed their trust in God. They forgot that tomorrow they might die from the violence in their land.
            Apparently, God commanded Hosea to take some symbolic actions to show them the truth of their broken relationship. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words; and so Hosea married a wife of whoredom. While Gomer spent nights away from her family with multiple partners, Hosea remained at home, faithfully cooking and cleaning, while caring for their three children, and waiting for his unfaithful wife to come home. For his second act, Hosea purchased and kept an adulteress, someone who was clearly violating her marriage covenant. “Look, this is who you are,” Hosea told the Israelites. “You are whores and adulterers, infidels who have broken your covenant with God. And God is angry, roaring like a lion, begging for God’s people to come home.”
I remember running away from my home around the age of 10. I was convinced that I had been mistreated; that my parents had been unfair; and that I was not loved as much as my siblings. I vowed to myself that I would treat my children well, always be fair, and love them equally. And, of course, I failed. As an adult, I looked for a savior and found that material things and well-meaning people ultimately failed me. Fortunately I didn’t resort to violence; rather I felt the heat of God’s love. I found amazing grace.
            When I read today’s lesson from Hosea it brought tears to my eyes. I know how fragile life can be, and how desperate love can feel. I know what it is like to lose someone I love. I know how often we fail one another as individuals in our personal, religious, and political systems. I know that we all participate in systems of evil and oppression; and I know what it’s like to feel hate. Hosea describes God as a loving parent, bending down from heaven to feed us, holding us tenderly in God’s arms, and close to God’s cheeks, teaching us to walk with cords of human kindness, and with bands of love. Begging us to come home.
Hosea saw beyond the infidelity of the Israelites to the compassion of our God. Hosea proclaimed that God would restore God’s people through a new covenant. And so, centuries after Hosea, God commanded Jesus to perform some symbolic actions for the sake and salvation of God’s people. Jesus had fierce conversations. Jesus took some actions. He stretched out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of God’s saving embrace. In effect, Jesus took a bullet for us.
Our salvation is assured. We need not anxiously search for things or people to save us. We need not create bigger barns or bank accounts as insurance policies for our future. We just need to make more room in our lives for God. As Peter Marty once wrote, “Full barns do not equal full souls.” (Christian Century, March 16, 2016) In fact, our inheritance is not stored in a barn, but rather in heaven; our legacy is one of faith, hope, and love.
In times of religious infidelity and political instability, we can have fierce conversations about gun violence, and we can take one small step to do something about it. “Taking action is key,” writes Susan Scott. “I don’t know about you, but I develop compassion fatigue with (people) who complain about the same issue over and over and don’t do what is needed to fix it. The well has run dry and I’m all outta love.” (Fierce Conversations, p62)  Take the next right step. Have the next fierce conversation. Today and tomorrow, make God’s love visible in your words and nonviolent actions.


Hosea 11:1-11
Psalm 107:1-9, 43
Colossians 3:1-11
Luke 12:13-21



























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