Swords into Plowshares

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Helena of Constantinople, May 22, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Today we remember Constantine’s mother, Helena whose leadership fixed the spot of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. As the story goes, a woman was healed by touching a cross that had been buried at a possible building site. Helena declared that to be the True Cross, and so that is where the Church was built. It is a day for honoring the Cross as the symbol of our faith, and it is a day when the Prophet Micah reminds us that God desires to turn swords into plowshares.

So, I would like to tell you the story of a cross I have that brings these two themes together. This cross is made from the firing pins of an AK-47. It was a gift to me from a friend and mentor. It comes from the Diocese of Lebombo in Mozambique. A parish I served and my diocese as a whole have had a longstanding companion relationship with Lebombo. Through that relationship I learned the remarkable story of what happened to the guns at the end of their civil war. Their bishop started a program that quite literally turned swords into plowshares. People were invited to trade in their guns for farming equipment and tools of industry. And the people did. Over 800,000 guns were turned in. Those guns were then turned into artwork, such as the cross I have. One of our bishops has a sculpture of a saxophone player that is made entirely of gun parts.

Because of the sheer size and weight of the cross, it is not one for everyday wear. I have worn it on multiple occasions as a testimony to a different way forward, to our Gospel call to seek peace and to transform tragedy and violence into beauty and new life. My diocese (Connecticut) has done a lot of work and witness against gun violence. My bishop is a founding member of Bishops United Against Gun Violence. We have marched and advocated for changes in policy at a local and a federal level. I have worn this cross at marches in Hartford and DC. I often wore it with a photo of one of the children killed at Sandy Hook elementary school in 2012. [See inside cover of our CT Stations of the Cross for 2013.]

As some of you may know, I had the opportunity to assist at his funeral in 2012. It was a difficult, heartbreaking day, of course. And yet, there were also moments of beauty and hope. The truth of Easter was spoken and felt, even though many of us felt like we were still living out Good Friday and Holy Saturday. One of the images from that day that will stay with me is the moment we walked out of the Church at the end of the service, singing “Joyful, Joyful, we adore thee.” Surrounding the lawn in front of the Church was a line of Boy Scouts in their shirtsleeves (in December!) standing at attention with their flags. They had been there for the entire service creating a human fence to ensure that if the rumors of Westboro Baptist coming to picket were true no one would not be able to get near the Church. That image has stayed with me as an icon of community care and support. Even in the midst of tragedy, the fundamental goodness and resiliency of the human spirit shines through.

Over and over again in our history and in our lives, God’s healing, redeeming love is at work transforming swords into plowshares. Transforming pain and tragedy into hope and new life. In these days when the realities of pain and suffering in our world are ever present, we can easily lose sight of all the signs of hope and new life that are present all around us. I hope that each of you have something like my cross in your workspace. Some small, tangible reminder of a time or a place or a way you have witnessed God’s love at work in the world. Keep those items nearby, and keep your eyes and your hearts open to discover more. They are there. Everyday. I promise.

Amen.