Dear Ones of St. Columba's,

Safety feels so hard to come by right now. Like many of you I have been feeling so many things in the wake of the several mass shootings in our nation. It feels like there is no safe place for Black people, for children, for churchgoers, for those seeking medical attention and so much more. I have found a special sort of comfort in the words of the Eucharistic prayer we have prayed together all of Easter - which comes from our siblings in the Anglican Church of Kenya. It seems like a prayer that was written by a culture that is deeply aware of humanity's need to find comfort in the complicated and supreme love and power of God. 

The prayer after Eucharist is from the same source, and this past week as we prayed it together my heart caught on this phrase: We thank you that in you we are kept safe forever. Oh, friends, how my heart longs to be kept safe forever! How I long to know and experience this safety for my children, for my husband, for my friends, and for all of you. 

I cannot help but think about the lies our world tells us about how to be "kept safe." These are lies about defensive posturing, the possession of firearms, building fences and borders, and nurturing fears when faced with humans who are in some way demonstrably different than me. And as my heart hurts for the parents of Uvalde and the Black community in Buffalo and the peoples of Ukraine and Russia and all the places in the world where violence is robbing us of precious human lives with weapons and ideas about how to be safe from each other, it occurs to me that being kept safe in God may not feel like any kind of safety this broken world of us has to offer. 

This week we will wear red and once again renew our baptismal promises. (We have been lucky to have so many chances to do this lately, and I tell you the truth I would not mind renewing them every single week!) And, we will hear our scripture's story of the arrival of God's Spirit - which I hope you notice shows up when the disciples are also feeling very unsafe, and actively dismantles the locks and doors and windows they were counting on to protect them. The story of the birth of our church - The Church - is a story of vulnerable human beings daring to follow the spirit out of what felt safe and in to new relationship with God and each other. 

The Spirit of God isn't safe - at least not in the ways that our world promises safety. She is not comfortable or predictable. This Spirit leads us into relationships and moments that will push us to rely on the only safety that truly exists - the safety we find in God.

I feel this Spirit at work in our St. Columba's community even now. I trust that the doors and windows of our frightened hearts will be pushed open, and I hope that we can together accept the invitation to speak, move and live in new ways. Not because we are afraid but because we know that it is only in God that we are kept safe.

with care and gratitude,

Alissa