Last December, This DEcember, Holy Rage & Mittens

Last December my middle child was in first grade. Last December I had no words to offer as either a mother or a minister. Last December I had no “religious ability” to make sense of such horror. Last December I only had tears and rage. Righteous, holy rage. 

As a minister, people call upon me to make sense of the world, especially after 20 children and six teachers are slain, a mentally ill boy lies dead clutching an assault rifle, a school is forever stained with blood, dozens of emergency workers are permanently damaged, and an entire community is stricken with collective PTSD.

Last December my middle child was in first grade. Last December I had no words to offer as either a mother or a minister. Last December I had no “religious ability” to make sense of such horror. Last December I only had tears and rage. Righteous, holy rage.

Last December I tried to pray, but what for? I tried to send every ounce of love and presence to Newtown, CT. I held each child, family, teacher, police officer, administrator, neighbor, as close as I could to my heart, but what for? I knew the God of the universe was on her knees with them, weeping, spinning, disoriented. I did not need to pray God would draw near to the Sandy Hook community; she was already there.

Last December I signed every petition I could lobbying our government for gun control. I plastered a bumper sticker on my car that read: Ban Assault Weapons Now. I searched the editorials for a shift in our nation’s obsession with guns, but learned only that guns sales were up and the NRA was brasher than before.  

Last December I felt certain God was powerless as were the families of the slaughtered.

This December I still have no words. This December I am still filled with righteous rage, although I believe it is more tempered. This December I am able to pray, although I still wonder about the efficacy of my prayers.

Yet, this December, I am hopeful that God is more active and powerful in the universe than I believed a year ago. This December I am fervently praying that the light of the world will break into our lives in a palpable way. I am praying that the child born to us, to two unwed teenage parents, will once again turn the world upside down with his light. I am praying that guns will cease to be owned, children will skip off to school, teachers will laugh, police officers will rescue cats out of trees, and communities will be blessed to bury their elderly, not their sweet mittened children.

If you feel powerless as the one year of Sandy Hook is upon us, please join Grace Community Boston in collecting mittens and gloves for families in need. We will be hanging 20 children’s gloves/mittens and 7 adult gloves in our sacred gathering space as a way to remember those who were lost. At the end of Advent we will donate them to a local shelter. Gloves and mittens can be dropped off at 28 Gould Street, Walpole or during a Sunday evening gathering at 10 Cottage Street, Norwood.  For more information visit GraceCommunityBoston.org

---