No more words.

This post is quite delayed today, mostly because I have run out of words to say about things like this.

I am tired of crafting special pastoral prayers multiple Sundays out of the year.

I am tired of having conversations about the 2nd Amendment.

I’m tired of lighting candles.

I’m just tired.

I have nothing inspirational to say. I have written and rewritten this, not because masses of people will read it, but because I just don’t have anything to say. We have been saying so much and doing so little for far too long.

In asking for unmitigated freedom, we have given ourselves death. I was reminded of the Luke 11 passage where Jesus instructs the disciples that God, who is the giver of all good things, deals graciously with us. When we ask for food, we are not given a scorpion. And yet, when we ask for what we think is freedom, we are constantly dealt death and destruction by our own hands.

Death is not freedom. This is not freedom. I do not know how to get us to freedom (I’m not paid the big bucks for that) but I can say with certainty that this isn’t it. No one is free when death is lurking in the room. No one is free when destruction threatens our community spaces and the places where we gather. No one is free when they lose a son or daughter. No one is free when they learn that their family member is the one who took deadly aim. No one.

God promises us freedom through Christ, who did not come into this world armed for war, but instead found himself a victim of violence.

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