A Letter From Lindy
Beloved Pilgrims,
I lost count of how many of you offered me the comment of “tough sermon, Lindy” last Sunday as God challenged me to reflect on yet another racist mass shooting tragedy in Buffalo, NY. For good or for not, that with which I wrestle, I bring to you to hold with me. It is my understanding of the preaching moment, always contextual between pastor and congregation.
Like many of you, I struggle with a crisis of faith, not of God, but of humanity and the evil we inflict upon the world in so many ways. How can one not feel helpless in the wake of such senseless violence and pain, only to listen to excuses and misdirection from our elected leaders who refuse to take action about the prevalence of guns which make such deadly encounters not just possible, but easily accessible.
My heart could not hold just days later the excruciating images from Uvalde, TX. Like a primal scream that took over, my whole body shook in horror and pain at the families crumpled against each other in learning whether their 10 year old babies would be coming home or not. The incomprehensibility of its commonplace in our country’s narrative hurts my soul. How long, O God, how long? The thought of having to put pen to paper exploring this aching pain feels too much. Especially upon hearing the political snippets of obfuscation from Congress who could with a vote alter the gun-filled landscape of our country. One has to wonder if their plan is to just jadedly wait out our collective attention span.
Wouldn’t it be amazing if the American people came together in this midterm election cycle and said ENOUGH! We are grieving. We are raging. And we will fight and reimagine so that no child feels fear as they walk through their school’s doors.
I believe that is the kindom God hopes for.
Pastor Lindy (she/her) why pronouns matter
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