Beloved in Christ:

I’ve had some rich discussions this Lent with a variety of people, some of our Calvary brothers and sisters, some clergy colleagues, and some people I’ve just encountered along the way, about how, as Christians, our voices can and should be heard in our times. There is no way to deny that we are living in a tough moment, in a wounded world that is full of confusion and violence and all that comes with that. We may be tired of hearing that truth, but it is there and it is harder and harder to avoid it. We must of course find the love, joy and blessings that God has brought to our lives; we must use our spiritual disciplines to live in gratitude, for in noticing blessings and living in gratitude we can find grace and redemption.  But today I write less than 24 hours after the latest tragic school shooting.  As the usual voices rise up to explain, blame, and say “when will we ever learn?”, the cacophony that is caused by the predictable responses has become noisy to the point of drowning out the unbelievable, shattering reality of families whose lives will never be the same, and it is hurting my ears.

The initial Christian response is to remind ourselves and others of the constant presence of the risen Christ. To remind our selves of the power of prayer and assurance of God’s love always. But as many people are reminding me, challenging me lately, “thoughts and prayers” are not enough to stop our country’s movement towards the worship of guns and violence.  Prayers are a first response, but we must enter into the pain and the power we have as people who follow the Way of Love, the Way of Christ, to make our voices heard too. Jesus Christ always goes to where the pain is, shining God’s light of healing and hope into the dark shadows. Jesus sits with people in their grief, weeping as he wept for his friend Lazarus. We are the Easter people, and our voices need to be heard, declaring that out of death comes new life.

At the same time, we are confronted in this final week of Lent, as we prepare to enter the holiest week of our church year, with our own confusion, our understandable desire to protect ourselves and our families, and perhaps our own complicity, understood or not,  subtle or not subtle, in the institutions that allow extreme gun violence to rend our social fabric. As Christians, we are called to walk a different path, and especially as we ready ourselves for Holy Week, even as many of us are getting ready to head out on well-deserved, much needed Spring Break and Easter vacations, we are called to dwell in the tension of living in a country we cherish, with all of the rights and responsibilities therein, and living a Cross-shaped life as Jesus did, prayerfully following that way daily. And so, I was given this poem this morning, written by pastor and writer Benjamin Cremer a few years ago. It is helping me to live in that tension, and be honest with where I am in it, even as I walk with Jesus towards Good Friday.

With deep love and respect,

+ Beth

By Benjamin Cremer

We want the war horse.
Jesus rides a donkey.

We want the bird of prey.
The Holy Spirit descends as a dove.

We want the militia.
Jesus calls fishermen, tax collectors, women, and children.

We want the courtroom.
Jesus sets a table.

We want the gavel.
Jesus washes feet.

We want to take up swords.
Jesus takes up a cross.

We want the empire.
Jesus brings the Kingdom of God.

We want the nation.
Jesus calls the church.

We want the roaring lion.
God comes as a slaughtered lamb.

We keep trying to arm God.
God keeps trying to disarm us.