By Taina Diaz-Reyes, ELCA Hunger Advocacy Fellow*
Paul, as described in Acts 21, arrived in Jerusalem to some strong responses. Buoyed by a crowd incensed by rumors that he was encouraging Jews to no longer observe Jewish law, a Roman tribune arrested and interrogated Paul to determine his crime. Following the Jewish law was central to the life of those identifying as God’s chosen people, and this man was accused of overturning the practices and covenant of their ancestors. (I probably would have been similarly roused. In fact, as I learned more about the history and present-day legacy of colonialism among communities with which I identify, I was roused – but I digress.)
We’ve heard a lot of rhetoric about our laws recently – from politicians, from pulpits, and most recently, from angry mobs of people rallying around a cry to hold fast as a country to tradition or law and order. The Constitution, the source document from which the laws of the U.S. came to be, is considered by many to be the ancestral heritage of the U.S. To many it’s what makes this country unique, and identity as “Americans” is marked by adherence to following law. As in Paul’s day, it becomes a problem now too when someone is accused of attempting to disregard the law for their own purposes.
But what was Paul doing, if not what he was accused of?
A moment of confusion
TEXT Acts 22:1-16 – I asked, ‘What am I to do, Lord?’ (v. 10)…
Acts 22 is known today as the account of Paul’s conversion. He was in Jerusalem because he had been given explicit instructions described to go (v. 10) and to do (v. 16). He attempted to convey this to the angry crowd, saying he lived “according to our ancestral law” (v. 3), saying it was as precious to him as it was them. He had dedicated his life to the law, to tradition, to persecuting those who sought to preclude the law with a new Way (v.4). Jesus, when addressing Paul on the road, anticipated the uproar when Paul testified to his encounter on the road.
When Paul tells of his conversion, he’s been confronted with his sins. Like many in the crowd, pre-conversion Saul had used the law and tradition to persecute and oppress others (even though many had heard of Jesus’ making an entire speech in Matthew 25 about how any treatment of the oppressed and marginalized among us is done as though it were being done to Jesus Himself… again, I digress). He asks Jesus, “What am I to do, Lord?”
The interesting thing about what Jesus says? He doesn’t tell Paul anything. He just says to go.
“What am I to do, Lord?” is a question we must ask ourselves daily. It is a question I ask about my work in advocacy. The response is always the same: Go.
Going it alone
After his encounter with Jesus, Paul tells us, “those who were with me took my hand and led me to Damascus” (v. 11). Like Paul, we need accompaniment in our mission. The task of pursuing God’s call on our lives as believers is a charge made possible by the indispensable resource of community. As we “go,” we do not journey alone. In the work of advocacy, we do not labor for justice alone. The work of advocacy is a journey to join God in restoring all things to Godself. The work is urgent, as we strive to ensure the needs of those made vulnerable to suffering are met.
A refreshed beginning
As it was with Jesus’s, Paul’s baptism (v. 16) marks him as a member of the Christian community and as at the beginning of his work. And as it was with Paul, our baptism marks us as members of the Christian community and the beginning of our work. As Lutherans, our commitment to advocacy comes in response to our baptismal covenant, just as Paul’s faith and mission were confirmed by his baptism (v. 16).
Paul was forgiven his sins of persecution in order to be proactive in his commitment to Christian community and faith. We must repent of the sins in which we unknowingly (and sometimes knowingly) participate. Judgment. Discrimination. Apathy. Inaction.
Forgiveness leads us to repent of our sins and move forward in faith. A recent example of repentance is the commitment to anti-racism that individuals and organizations have made to turn away from discrimination and become proactive in using anti-racist language, behavior, etc. To repent of racism is to live out anti-racism.
Timeless and timely advice
Ananias tells Paul, “And now, why do you delay? Get up, be baptized, and have your sins washed away, calling on his name” (v. 16). Ananias’ words to Paul reinforce what Jesus said to Paul on the road: get up and get moving – why do you delay?
And it is a sending I take with me, along with you, in advocacy action.
* This New Year Devotional Series has been composed by the three ELCA Hunger Advocacy Fellows serving in 2020-2021. “The ministry of ELCA World Hunger involves young adult engagement in conversations and formulating solutions to this systemic and universal obstacle to physical and spiritual well-being. Hunger is one of the key issues we must address as a church, for injustice and inequity are consistent themes across our local and global food systems. One way to address hunger and ensure young adult involvement in the ELCA and in World Hunger’s faith-based work is by funding the Hunger Advocacy Fellowship (HAF) position, a year-long contract position designed to cultivate the leadership of individuals looking to halt the expanding reach of hunger through advocacy,” describes Taina Diaz-Reyes, Hunger Advocacy Fellow in D.C.
Taina Diaz-Reyes‘ placement is with the ELCA advocacy staff in Washington, D.C. She says: “I am a ‘Lutheracostal’ originally from Tucson, Ariz. but raised in the D.C. area. It was here I was exposed to the power of protest and political movements present in the city over the course of my youth. I graduated from the George Washington University with a BA in Geography and Sustainability, then completed the MDiv/MA in Sustainability dual degree program at Wake Forest University in December 2019. My personal and professional interests lie in the food-climate-policy nexus and the theological frameworks that help Christians determine points of action for racial equity, food security, climate justice and decolonization. My hope is to gain skills that will help me advance the pursuit of food justice via theologically-informed advocacy.”


Repentance is at the core of Christian living (the first of Luther’s 95 Theses). During the season of Lent, we all become a “penitent” with ashes on the forehead, looking toward to the cross as a sign of God’s reconciliation with all creation (with the absolution on Maundy Thursday). Ashes appear throughout the Hebrew Bible as a sign of mourning and repentance, but Isaiah reminds us that such practices point to the larger call for justice (Isa. 58:5-6). These ashes are at the very beginning (“dust” in Genesis 3:19) and connect each of us to all of creation and to our own mortality.
The power of receiving the cross on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday is in the layering: there is a sign of sin and death traced and layered on top of the tracing in water and oil of the promise of life, rebirth, and liberation from sin and death. On Ash Wednesday, we feel the full weight of the ashy tracing. It does not negate or obliterate the liberating sign it is layered with, but it is a suitably tangible reminder of the reality of grief, loss, and death.
Most of my personal study and continuing education for the last several months has been focused on trauma-informed care, recognizing that living through the varied events of the last year affects not only our spirit but also our mind and body, and requires adaptations honoring this challenging new space. A best practice for trauma-informed care is to remember that significant stress and trauma are not just intellectual exercises. Our bodies respond to and reflect the events of the day. It may be using prayer beads or a finger labyrinth to make home worship feel more real or wrapping myself in a favorite sweater or soft blanket when I miss the comforting hugs of family and friends. Being mindful of how my body responds to grief and loss and finding ways to care for and comfort it has been both personally and professionally beneficial.
Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of a journey when we remember Jesus’ ministry, his ability to heal and care for humanity, and at the same time, his passion, death, and overall, his glorious resurrection. In a “typical” year it might seem too soon to even talk about Easter on Ash Wednesday. However, I don’t know if that’s the case for 2021.








