Sermon for Sunday, August 11, 2024 || Proper 14B || 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

I was worried Tuesday morning when I sat down to write this sermon that I would have forgotten how to do it, since I preached my last one all the way back on April 14th. Thankfully, my shower thoughts saved me as I reflected on the story of David and Absalom. And I realized that God was inviting me today to talk about the danger of binary thinking. So this morning let’s talk about the grace inherent in the fact that two things can be true at the same time.

Back in late October 2022, I was having a rough time. The overwhelming number of deaths we were enduring here at St. Mark’s, coupled with my increasing awareness of the degrading state of my mental health, caused me to wonder if I could remain in parish ministry much longer. I began casually looking at other jobs that might fit my skill set. This casual job search also sent me to Zillow, the real estate website, because, I reasoned, if I had a different job, I couldn’t very well live in the rectory of St. Mark’s.

I looked at Zillow every day or two, and every time I did, I kept coming back to a particular house that I just adored. It was here in Groton. It was in a neighborhood. It had a two-car garage, three bedrooms, and central air conditioning. And we might just be able to afford it! The trouble was, if I did decide to take another job, it wasn’t going to be for a while yet, and this dreamhouse would surely be sold by then. So why was I torturing myself by looking at this listing that would be gone any day?

The week before Thanksgiving, I went next door for lunch at the rectory and found Stacey Kohl having tea with Leah. I joined the conversation, and soon we were talking about our housing and job uncertainties. I told Stacey that I was either going to keep being rector at St. Mark’s and live in the rectory or have another job and have to move. Stacey looked at me quizzically and said, “Why can’t you keep being the rector at St. Mark’s AND move to a new house?”

In the weeks I had been discerning, that thought had simply never occurred to me. I was stuck in a severely limited binary mindset, and Stacey’s question exploded that mindset. I realized two things could be true at the same time. I could be the rector here at St. Mark’s AND buy a house. We had that conversation on a Monday, looked at the house on Wednesday, and our offer was accepted on Friday. We moved into the dreamhouse I had first seen on Zillow less than six weeks later.

I spent nearly my entire sabbatical in that house. But for a brief trip to California to see my best friend from high school, I rooted myself in the restful environs of our new home. I wrote my sabbatical manuscript at the kitchen table. I read book after book on the new couch downstairs. I sat on the deck and contemplated the burgeoning woods behind the house. I was both home and away at the same time.

This time spent rooted in rest with God was good for my soul. Each day of the sabbatical, I imagined my way into the biblical story through the eyes of St. Peter and got closer to Jesus than I’ve ever been. My morning writing sessions gave way to restful afternoons. I wish I could say I return to you cleansed of all my personal issues, that three months of rest is a perfect cure for depression and anxiety. Such wishful thinking is a symptom of a binary mindset. It’s much more truthful to say that I am both rested AND working to understand my continuing anxiety. These two things are true at the same time.

This type of expansive thinking leads us to the kind of abundant life God yearns for us to live. When we pattern our lives on the truth of the conjunction “And,” we recognize that God’s divine “And” is present all around us. We see God’s divine “And” theologically in the truth that God is both a Trinity of Persons AND a Unity of Being. We see God’s divine “And” in Christ, both fully human AND fully God. We see God’s divine “And” in creation as we understand more and more about how ecosystems function – not simply the zero-sum competition for resources that our Enlightenment ancestors saw, but also a complex web of mutuality and cooperation that seeks the thriving of the entire natural habitat.

Of course, the trap of binary thinking often hems us in. Especially when we feel threatened, painting everything as THIS or THAT offers us a false sense of security. We exclude, we divide, we categorize, we judge things wholly good or wholly bad as a way to impose a semblance of order on our lives.

We say “but” instead of “and.”

The confines of binary thinking traps King David in our reading from the Hebrew Scriptures this morning. David’s beloved son Absalom has rebelled against his father for reasons that are too involved to go into during this sermon. The people of Israel rally around Absalom and soon a war breaks out. Before the climactic battle, David tells his commanders to spare Absalom, but in the heat of battle David’s soldiers kill his son. When David learns of Absalom’s death, he is understandably inconsolable, wailing, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” That’s where our reading leaves off this morning.

The next chapter begins with David mourning for Absalom loudly and publicly. Joab, David’s leading general, berates the king for not mourning the lost troops on his own side of the battle, but only for Absalom. “You have made it clear today,” Joab says, “that commanders and officers are nothing to you, for I perceive that, if Absalom were alive and all of us were dead today, then you would be pleased.”

If only Joab and David had breathed deeply of the power of God’s divine “And.” David could have grieved both his son AND his troops. Joab could have seen David both as a leader AND as a father. The power of AND could have saved their country even more turmoil, while also honoring the grief of a father who has lost a beloved child.

As we look out on our world today, and especially as we approach the 2024 election, I invite us all to practice the expansive thinking of God’s divine “And.” When you’re tempted to say the conjunction “but” in a sentence, try to change it to “and” and see how this simple grammatical shift can dramatically change your entire outlook. When you’re tempted to exclude or divide or demonize, remember that such acts are attempts to impose a falsely soothing simplicity on a complex and diverse world. More than one thing can be true at the same time. That’s why people both cry and laugh at funerals. Our lives are complicated and simple, messy and beautiful, full of tears and laughter, pain and joy, fear and love, anxiety and peace. When we embrace God’s divine “And,” we participate in the truth of reality, living lives of abundance and authenticity. This week, practice the power of “and.” And remember, more than one thing can be true at the same time. Thanks be to God.