…continued…
I mentioned a few days ago that Paul’s letter to the Romans is my favorite book of the Bible. I have a really good reason for that. When I struggle to understand, when nothing makes sense, when I feel completely lost, Paul has a way of reminding me that I don’t have to have all the answers.
This past week has seen a new way of pushing me to the heights of frustration which have driven my emotions to a place I haven’t visited in nearly twenty years. I vividly remember the events of 9/11. Our immediate response was to open the doors of the church. We didn’t have texting or much of email at that time, but we somehow got the word out that the church was open. Hundreds of people flocked into the Sanctuary where we sang and prayed, cried and prayed, reflected and prayed, worshiped and prayed. We allowed folks to talk – about a husband who was in the Pentagon, about a daughter who was patrolling the streets of DC, about all the friends who were missing. We shared life, fears, and questions.
There were times we just didn’t have the words. The silence was difficult. We were in a damaged state and desperately needed answers. We felt engulfed by the chaos and the unknown. We were hurting but couldn’t quite name the anxieties. We needed to talk, but nothing meaningful came from our mouths. We felt lost, but there was great comfort in being lost together and in God’s home.
The woundedness of our country, the unrest, the anguish, the distrust, the disrespect… all of it builds into a frustration that fuels rage and antagonizes fear. These past few weeks have sent me scrambling to remember that feeling of comfort gained from gathering as God’s people in 2001. The biggest difference is that today I cannot run to God’s home. My go-to reaction is to throw open the church doors and invite God’s people in to pray and share hope. COVID-19 has created a wall of silence and a state of damage from which we may not recover any time soon. The church doors remain closed, and the silence of an empty Sanctuary is thunderous.
The resulting frustration reached a pressure so intense that today I developed a leak. I can no longer hold back the tears of anger and sorrow, and the dam of strength I depend on has burst. The tears flowed yesterday, and today the heartbreak is more than I can process in my tired brain. All I can think is that I don’t know how to do this anymore. Life has become too complicated, too chaotic, too scary. I feel the hurt but cannot name the torment. I need to talk… to others but especially to God… and yet, I have no words.
That’s where Paul comes in with a promise of hope. “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27, NIV)
Paul has an undeniable ability to reach across the centuries and shove the truth of God’s Love right into my heart. I don’t need words, Paul says, because God’s Spirit helps when I’m weak. When I cannot find the way to prayer, when my heart is torn open, the Holy Spirit groans for me and my speechless voice is heard.
I will never understand the divisions among us, but with God’s help and the Spirit’s intercession, I will find my voice and share the Love of Jesus. Time to repair that dam.
Thanks, Paul.
Pastor Beth
I mentioned a few days ago that Paul’s letter to the Romans is my favorite book of the Bible. I have a really good reason for that. When I struggle to understand, when nothing makes sense, when I feel completely lost, Paul has a way of reminding me that I don’t have to have all the answers.
This past week has seen a new way of pushing me to the heights of frustration which have driven my emotions to a place I haven’t visited in nearly twenty years. I vividly remember the events of 9/11. Our immediate response was to open the doors of the church. We didn’t have texting or much of email at that time, but we somehow got the word out that the church was open. Hundreds of people flocked into the Sanctuary where we sang and prayed, cried and prayed, reflected and prayed, worshiped and prayed. We allowed folks to talk – about a husband who was in the Pentagon, about a daughter who was patrolling the streets of DC, about all the friends who were missing. We shared life, fears, and questions.
There were times we just didn’t have the words. The silence was difficult. We were in a damaged state and desperately needed answers. We felt engulfed by the chaos and the unknown. We were hurting but couldn’t quite name the anxieties. We needed to talk, but nothing meaningful came from our mouths. We felt lost, but there was great comfort in being lost together and in God’s home.
The woundedness of our country, the unrest, the anguish, the distrust, the disrespect… all of it builds into a frustration that fuels rage and antagonizes fear. These past few weeks have sent me scrambling to remember that feeling of comfort gained from gathering as God’s people in 2001. The biggest difference is that today I cannot run to God’s home. My go-to reaction is to throw open the church doors and invite God’s people in to pray and share hope. COVID-19 has created a wall of silence and a state of damage from which we may not recover any time soon. The church doors remain closed, and the silence of an empty Sanctuary is thunderous.
The resulting frustration reached a pressure so intense that today I developed a leak. I can no longer hold back the tears of anger and sorrow, and the dam of strength I depend on has burst. The tears flowed yesterday, and today the heartbreak is more than I can process in my tired brain. All I can think is that I don’t know how to do this anymore. Life has become too complicated, too chaotic, too scary. I feel the hurt but cannot name the torment. I need to talk… to others but especially to God… and yet, I have no words.
That’s where Paul comes in with a promise of hope. “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27, NIV)
Paul has an undeniable ability to reach across the centuries and shove the truth of God’s Love right into my heart. I don’t need words, Paul says, because God’s Spirit helps when I’m weak. When I cannot find the way to prayer, when my heart is torn open, the Holy Spirit groans for me and my speechless voice is heard.
I will never understand the divisions among us, but with God’s help and the Spirit’s intercession, I will find my voice and share the Love of Jesus. Time to repair that dam.
Thanks, Paul.
Pastor Beth