Dear Ones of St. Columba's,

This is a hard week. It's hard to know how to feel or what to do, as we await news from the election. It is extremely difficult for many of us to see results come in that show us in frank and unrelenting numbers just how divided our nation is at this crucial moment in time. If you are like me, then perhaps you had hoped something about this election would turn out a little (or a lot) differently than it has. 

Last week I preached from the book of Revelation, and one of the things I talked about was how Revelation and judgement in our Bible are not about predicting the future but helping us to see and to face truth here and now. I do think that this election, and every election, is a judgement in that sort of Biblical way. This shows us a truth that was previously hidden about who we are, and just how much work there is ahead of us to bridge divides, find healing, and protect the most vulnerable among us. 

Truth is a blessing, friends, but it is not an easy blessing. The challenges we face as a nation, and as Christian people called to follow the way of Jesus in this national context, are unveiled in a new way this week. The wounds that divide us are real. So is the God who calls us to love and healing and justice and wholeness in the middle of all this mess. 

Wherever you are today, please know that you are not alone. We will navigate the waters ahead together, as a community of faith, seeking the face of Jesus to the best of our ability. We can do this, with God's help. 

I want to leave you with a blessing from poet Jan Richardson. Take some time to read it. Keep breathing, and praying. Remember that hope and curiosity are spiritual disciplines that we can choose to engage in, as is the call to love. 

I am so glad to be on this road with you. 

with care and gratitude,

Alissa

THE HARDEST BLESSING

If we cannot lay aside the wound,
then let us say
it will not always
bind us.
Let us say
the damage
will not eternally
determine our path.
Let us say
the line of our life
will not always travel
along the places
we are torn.
Let us say
that forgiveness
can take some practice,
can take some patience,
can take a long
and struggling time.
Let us say
that to offer
the hardest blessing,
we will need
the deepest grace;
that to forgive
the sharpest pain,
we will need
the fiercest love;
that to release
the ancient ache,
we will need
new strength
for every day.
Let us say
the wound
will not be
our final home—
that through it
runs a road,
a way we would not
have chosen
but on which
we will finally see
forgiveness,
so long practiced,
coming toward us,
shining with the joy
so well deserved.

Jan Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons