Light in Darkness

I write this still reeling from the news of the massacre in Nova Scotia on Sunday and the senseless loss of so many lives. Yesterday was a day of sad and troubling news for some in my congregation and I felt overwhelmed. And now as I look out my office window it’s snowing.

To say I’m not motivated to do the work I need to do today is an under-statement, and I remind myself of the wise words I read in a facebook post that we are all, in this Covid-19 world, not able to function at 100% because we are all grieving in some way. We are all experiencing a kind of trauma, some of us more acutely than others for many reasons. We can’t expect ourselves to be as productive as normal. We need to be gentle and compassionate with ourselves right now.

We did an Earth Day service last Sunday, so now I’m gearing up to preach about John 20:19-29 with the disciples huddled together in a locked house in grief and and Thomas’ doubt. I do feel a bit like they did, holed up in my apartment and rarely venturing out for fear of the virus. Especially after the events in Nova Scotia, trust is at a low. I’d rather in hiding, lying on the couch buried under a blanket and sulk or lament or cocoon.

But the risen Christ could not be held in the tomb and could not be thwarted by locked doors. He shows up in their midst, knows how upset they are, and the first words He says are “Peace be with you”. He shows His hands and side, His wounds, and repeats “Peace be with you”, adding the challenge that they are to be sent just as God had sent Him. He breathes the Holy Spirit on them, letting them know the power they have to forgive sins or not. Thomas shows up late to the party and will not believe the story of the others until he sees Jesus for himself. Jesus obliges, coming and allowing Thomas to touch His side and hands, proving that it’s really Him.

We are counted among those who believe without having seen the risen Jesus. We need the reminder of Jesus being with us, and that He is able to break through any barriers we try to erect for ourselves that will supposedly keep us safe from harm and the evil outside our doors. We need the reminder that He is gentle with us, holds us in our grief and pain, and yet is not content to leave us in that space but challenges us to rise up and be sent. Even with our imperfections and fears and doubts, Jesus sends us. And in sending us, in saying that our gifts are needed, our care and compassion are needed, we turn our focus from us to those around us.

My facebook feed has been filled with photos of candles lit in solidarity, of Nova Scotia flags, of the smiling faces of victims being remembered rather than the perpetrator. The media has been advised to take the focus away from the one who caused the harm and onto the ones who lived well as long as they had that gift. The focus is where it should be - those we lost and those left behind who need comfort and care. And maybe, in time, they will be able to forgive so that the burden of bitterness and anger in their hearts is lifted.

In this time of battling an invisible virus that is wreaking havoc and a visible evil that took precious lives in close-knit small towns, we are still seeing Christ among us. We are seeing Him in the many who are at risk for us, the many who are sewing masks and gowns from home, the many who are prayer warriors, the many who are distributing food to the homeless and shut-in, the many who are continuing to lead online worship, the many in leadership guiding our safety. We are still seeing Christ among us and in seeing how we rise above this situation we remember that we are not alone.

Jesus stands with us in His risen power, offering us comfort that we can extend to others in spite of our own wounds and fears and questions and doubts. May we shine that light in the darkness around us.

Peace be with you! He is risen! He is risen indeed!