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I first heard of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde in the days following her sermon during the National Prayer Service at Washington National Cathedral. Preaching after the inauguration of the United States’ 47th President, her final plea for mercy was all anyone could talk about:

“In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now.”

Not “my God.” Not “your God.” Ours. Appealing for mercy on behalf of all God’s children, Bishop Budde reminds the president and all in attendance of the One to whom all allegiance is due. Exceptional bravery in exceptional circumstances. In the wake of these remarks, the Bishop’s plea was pilloried by the president, her life threatened by others. But what I hear in her words are as much a challenge to me as to anyone else. 

In the face of violence, the church’s call to extend God’s grace and mercy is more vital than ever.  

I went back to read the Bishop’s sermon in light of all that has taken place in the intervening months. What I found in her words was even more challenging and expansive than what I initially remembered. 

Preaching in the midst of a growing storm of outrage and contempt, Bishop Budde’s sermon calls for unity across whatever lines otherwise divide us. Unlike many modern calls to unity, she relies neither on unswerving submission to coercive power, nor on “you do you” relativism. Instead, the Bishop roots her call for unity in an appeal to “honour the inherent dignity of every human being.” 

Bishop Budde’s call to mercy is rooted deeply in the promises of the baptismal covenant (see Book of Alternative Services p.159 for context). 

In baptism, we rehearse the story of God’s grace and mercy from the very beginning to the very end. In baptism, and in response to God’s self-giving love, we renounce evil and sin, along with the powers of this world which corrupt and destroy God’s creatures. In baptism, we commit to align our whole lives with Jesus. That is to say, we pledge our ultimate allegiance to no one and to no thing but God. 

This is the way of discipleship to which our God calls us: joining Jesus on his mission of liberation and love for all who find themselves in the valley of the shadow of death. Discipleship in the way of Jesus calls us to fervent and expectant prayer. But Jesus’ call to “pick up the cross,” asks something more, too. When our neighbours are suffering, we are called to put our bodies and resources on the line, embodying mercy for all who are scared. 

In the introduction to her 2023 book, “How We Learn to Be Brave,” Bishop Budde explores the dynamics of faithful, imaginative bravery:

“The courage to be brave when it matters most requires a lifetime of small decisions that set us on a path of self-awareness, attentiveness, and willingness to risk failure for what we believe is right.”

I want to follow Jesus. I want to be faithful, imaginative, and brave. Oftentimes I find myself (not unlike the first disciples) feeling scared and alone, longing for simpler days. I feel the pull of self-sufficient individualism infecting me. That pull is as present in the world as it is in the church. And it leaves me wondering: has the church prepared us for the bravery this moment requires? 

Perhaps anticipating such feelings of helplessness, Bishop Budde reminds us, “most of life is lived in smaller acts of faithfulness.” Not every moment has us pleading for mercy before a power-hungry despot. And yet, should that day come, this is a promise we have made: to renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy. 

I don’t know anything about Bishop Budde’s thought process in crafting her prophetic sermon. But as I re-read its text, I was reminded of the question the celebrant asks following the renunciation of evil and commitment to follow Jesus with our whole selves, “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?” 

Will you do all in your power to be Christ's body, the church, a people who stand in the way of evil, defend God's creatures, and seek the flourishing of God’s good Creation? 

Who can anticipate what such a commitment will require?

Perhaps we imagine small acts of faithfulness. A meal here. A prayer there. An awkward coffee hour conversation with a confused teenager searching for God-knows-what.

Further from our mind might be the offer of sanctuary to a refugee at risk of deportation; defending the dignity of the trans kid being mocked at the bus stop; calling out a longtime friend for a racist joke.

Even harder still, the challenge of speaking honestly, humbly, and publicly to one wielding unimaginable power, pleading on behalf of the scared, that they act in light of God’s mercy.

And yet, throughout Christian history, and in these last days, God’s people are repeatedly called to faithfully, imaginatively, and bravely embody our faith. We are being called to put our reputations and lives on the line to honour the dignity of every human being and to safeguard the integrity of God’s good creation. 

How might we learn to be brave?

Through the intentional practices of the discipleship community, a community dedicated to embodying the promises of baptism, for the life of God’s beloved world. Through intentionally encouraging and challenging one another in small acts of faithfulness. Through intentional opportunities to extend grace and mercy to those in our congregation, to those in our families, to those in our neighbourhoods. Through a community that supports each small decision to embrace the risk of failure in pursuit of what is right.

And where does it all start?

It starts in our response to the question that comes in many moments, and in many forms: “will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?”

It starts when we exuberantly recommit ourselves to becoming the community of God’s mission, bravely responding, “we will, with God’s help.”