Beacon of Hope
PRIDE EUCHARIST
Isaiah 55:11-56:1 • Psalm 2:1-2, 10-12 • Acts 14:14-17, 21-23 • Mark 4:21-29
I commend you, us all, really. Pride Weekend isn’t for the faint-hearted! And concluding Pride weekend within the walls of a church may seem odd to many. I not only commend but also thank you for bringing your whole, beautiful, radiant, beloved selves into this sacred space. A lamp, the light that you are, is not to be hidden, under a bushel basket, under a bed, or in a closet. The Light, your light, is meant to shine.
Along Dickson Street yesterday, the sun shone on everyone in dazzling brightness. The sweat on every body glistened without discrimination, though those with glitter were a little extra, as intended. While the radiance of the sun burned our eyes and skin, the light and love of Christ filled our hearts as much as ever. The radiance of the Son of God calls us together, illuminating us to one another, including those who wonder if love has forsaken them, if God has abandoned them.
Such wondering is common among the faithful, those who know love enough to know its loss or lack, the deprivation of that for which they yearn, especially if they have been intentionally wounded by those they love and churches they’ve trusted. It is approval and acceptance that brings comfort and encouragement, creating a sense of security, and I am immensely grateful for the inclusion and affirmation we provide in this church. Hopefully we always have those around us who maintain such security and affirmation of unconditional love, especially when we show our truest selves, the person God has created us to be.
I love the witness of The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray shared in the documentary My Name is Pauli Murray, available to watch on Amazon Prime.
Anna Pauline Murray was orphaned as a young child and went to live with extended family, including Aunt Pauline, who was the extender of unconditional love toward Pauli. Aunt Pauline recognized her—what she would call niece but what we would call—nibling for their intelligence, willfulness, and gender nonconformity. Pauli, as they are most commonly known, sometimes referred to themself as Pete or The Dude as a youngster. Reflecting on Pauli’s life, Dolores Chandler, who was the former coordinator of the Pauli Murray Center, said Pauli lived “the turmoil of someone who was trying to live … life as a complete being with an integrated body, mind, and spirit.” Pauli lived in the in-between of race and gender, and biographer Rosalind Rosenberg believes it’s the “sense of in-betweenness (which) made (Pauli) increasingly critical of boundaries,” why Pauli was so far ahead of their time. Pauli graduated college in the 1930s and participated in nonviolent direct action for civil rights in the early 1940s, which prompted her to attend law school at Howard, after being denied at University of North Carolina. Pauli was a pen pal and friend of Eleanor Roosevelt, and after news of a lynching in 1959, Pauli went to teach law in Ghana until realizing the democratic principles and independence being taught was raising suspicions from the government. Pauli was one of the 28 founding members of the National Organization for Women, and it is Paul’s foundational work that led to the ACLU winning the 2020 Supreme Court Case to prohibit discrimination against LGBTQ folks 35 years after her death. These aren’t even all of Pauli’s contributions, accolades, or honors.
Pauli focused all their public light on the law because of their indefatigable passion for social justice. Pauli’s private life was just that, but when their long-time love and partner died of cancer, Pauli realized the law didn’t address the moral and spiritual problems we face in life and wondered what to do in life with the time they had left. Pauli had long worshiped in The Episcopal Church and was among the first ordained women in 1977, the first Black female priest.
Someone who had been primarily a talker became a listener, family shared in the documentary. Given that Pauli’s autobiography is titled Song in a Weary Throat, maybe Pauli was tired of being the voice crying out. Being a prophet is tireless, thankless work, even if it is a calling. The powers that be are not always on the right side of justice, of God’s will which is life, love, and liberation for all. Professor Tina Lu from Yale’s Pauli Murray College said Pauli’s time had not yet come but that “we have to work for a world in which it does come.”
I share so much about Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray not only because I find them so inspiring nor because their feast day is tomorrow, July 1st, nor even because they’ve gotten their own quarter as of this year. Pauli carried their light as brightly as they could. Striving to live fully integrated meant struggling with breakdowns and depression. Like Pauli, we know what it is to struggle, how hard it is to carry the banner for justice, how thankless and neverending it can be in the face of oppressive systems and -isms, how much we hope that through all the persecution, the reign of God brings a new way, a new day.
God scattered throughout creation all the seeds for hope we need to bring about the kind of community we seek, where all are beloved and the image of God in each of us is celebrated in unboundaried beauty and diversity. In the face of all odds, sometimes we don’t know where that hope comes from, but there it is, sure as the sun rises and the seed grows. Pauli says in her poetry, “Hope is a song in a weary throat.”[1] May we never tire of proclaiming hope, of sharing our light, of growing in love for one another and of God. This is the prophetic witness needed here and now and always. And as Pauli said, “Surrender to none the fire of your soul”; it is your fire that strengthens and encourages us today and all those who look to us for hope for tomorrow.
Quotes and information about The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray are from the documentary My Name is Pauli Murray, watched on Amazon Prime.
[1] https://trinityepiscopal.org/cathedral-blog/2020/5/22/hope-is-a-song-in-a-weary-throat
© 2024 The Rev. Sara Milford
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church – Fayetteville, Arkansas