With our “own eyes” we have seen a tragic display of despair, bravado, violence and division play out in our nation’s capitol this week. I am in shock, as you may well be. I understand secondhand that this has not happened since the British invaded the capitol in 1814. I’ve been too busy to research that, but it’s such a sobering thought.

I am heart-broken and tempted to give up hope that our national fabric can be mended. (Yes, I said tempted to give up hope just three weeks after Advent ended with the birth of Jesus.)

Yes, I said tempted.

Hope remains.

My hope is actually renewed, not with easy answers or even doctrinal affirmations. My hope is renewed by seeing evidence of care, conviction and new voices condemning the energies of our worst angels. My hope is renewed that maybe there are some boundaries that we hold (in common) that we have consensus we do not want to cross.

That is no pollyanna hope. So much has already been inflamed and perverted in our way of being together as a nation. It is hard to imagine that any potential bridge-building efforts of a new administration will be met with goodwill or trust by a sizable portion of our land. There are times in history when deescalating just seems impossible. When mending seems beyond us.

Indeed, spiritually speaking, IT IS beyond “us.” This is a time for people of faith to turn away from the functional atheism of our day-to-day material reality and look beyond ourselves, to look beyond any fantasies of our power or any fixations on our apparent limitations. This is a time for people of Christian faith to take refuge in the living wisdom of our tradition, the Holy Spirit’s ongoing work, and to practice the hope Christ gives us.

This hope is not in us. Or in our neighbor. Or in our political victories. Or in the status of our national fabric.

It is a hope in Christ’s way, truth, and life. It is a hope hardwired for resurrection, through repentance and reconciliation. It is a hope guarded by a trust the Holy Spirit is at work doing Christ’s work: unveiling and revealing – even in and through such chaos and sin – so that we might be changed. It is a hope born of every confidence that we are not alone.

Emmanuel, God with us, is here. Oh, how we need his grace and truth.

Peace and love,
Pastor Jacki