Clergy Notes — Pentecost 8, July 31 2022
Even at night, their minds do not rest.” (Ecclesiastes 2:23)
Thinking on the events of this past week, I am certain I am not alone in recognizing the timeless wisdom in this bit of scripture written thousands of years ago. Is it any wonder our minds do not rest when we are worried and afraid amidst reports of shootings and wildfires and rising costs of living and lack of housing? Is it any wonder our minds do not rest when First Nations, Métis and Inuit friends and relatives continue to wait for apologies, recognition and reparations more than overdue? Is it any wonder our minds do not rest as wounds are freshly opened in those whose precious lives and God-given love have been the subject of seemingly endless arguments within the church?
In times like these I think it is right and proper to feel a sense of helplessness. Sometimes all we can do is weep, and stand with one another. It doesn’t mean we need be paralyzed there forever, but I think it important to pause and acknowledge grief together, and love with presence. As Christians, this is what we proclaim God has done for us in Jesus, and – having shared in this loving solidarity – it is also what we are called to do for others. Every small act of kindness, of justice, of love, adds to the kingdom of God – we are building it together even when it feels like we are doing nothing. Even when we feel helpless.
Please know that, wherever you are and whatever you are going through right now, this priest is praying for you, fighting for you, loving you. I hope that at night when your mind cannot rest, that it may find some comfort in knowing you are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God, and that you too may offer your healing presence to someone you love. In our striving together for what is true and right and good, we are not alone. We are building the kingdom of God together.
