I’ve been thinking about name tags. Like when I was five years old and my mother sent me off to school the first day or week. Was the idea that I might forget my name? Or was it verification of who I was for the teacher?
Hospitals of course are quite meticulous these days with those wrist bands. From patients to visitors they want everyone identified. We get this and it’s not hard to figure out why a name tag or identity badge is important.
It becomes especially important however for persons who no longer have a clear memory. Anyone who has had a loved one enter some phase of dementia or suffered an accident and is unconscious wants their loved one to be identified and people to know with whom they are working.
So I have a simple suggestion. In these days of madness when the White House is now tainted by the President of the United States having invited a murderer to visit him, the President of the Philippines, Rodrigo Duterte, who delights in extrajudicial executions, let’s wear a name tag so we can remind ourselves who we are. And maybe we should write beneath our names, “I love justice.” Alas, this may be so much jousting at windmills. But I do know a way to remind ourselves who we are each week and month after month.
Every Sunday in a middle school auditorium, we gather to create the beloved community. Frankly, there may be no greater counter sign to the madness of a world in love with death than to place oneself within the community of those who believe that God expects justice and righteousness and whose dream is to see these flow down like mighty streams. Worship as counter-cultural, non-violent resistance. I invite you to remember who you are with us as we remember who we are in the presence of God, who loved the world so much… ~See you Sunday