We want to begin each day, not with the noise of the world but with God's Word. Help us gather ourselves each morning to pray the Psalms, sing hymns, and hear Scripture. In doing so, we may anchor ourselves in the truth that Christ, not the state, is our true Lord of history.
Remind us that our calling is to live together as a visible sign of God’s peace. Let our homes and churches be open to those who hunger, who need shelter, who tremble with fear. We won't ask first whether they are a protester or soldier, for Christ comes to us in the distress of our neighbor. In the table fellowship we share as citizens, the world glimpses a justice not enforced by weapons but given in mercy.
The state has a duty: to preserve justice and protect the weak. Yet when the state arms itself against its own citizens, when it answers cries for equity with shields, batons, and arms, then it exceeds its calling. Citizens and the church must speak. We do not honor God by silence in the face of injustice. We honor God in reminding rulers that their authority is bounded, that power without justice is no authority at all.
To the soldiers of the Guard and those crying for order, remain firm in your humanity before God, not merely acting as instruments of command. Examine your conscience. Where order violates the dignity of our neighbors, it also violates Christ's command. To follow an order violating that dignity is to betray both God and our own humanity. It is better to suffer the judgment of men than to lose our souls to violence.
I confess all the deep fears, pettiness, and hatred that, at times, wash over me. I pray that any anger or bitterness does not poison the fellowship of this city we share. Speaking truth in humility, forgiving as we are all forgiven, and bearing each other’s burdens are all important. Hopefully, we will become strong enough to stand with the oppressed without hatred and to address the powerful without cowardice.
The church is not the church when it seeks its own safety. The church is the church when it exists for others. I want to go into the streets not with stones and gas masks, but with prayers; not with slogans of contempt but with songs of hope. Let's be willing to suffer with our neighbors, for in that suffering Christ himself is present.
Even now, I know that beauty persists in Portland and in the world. A river still flows through our city. The cactus still blooms in Zion. Miracles continue. Feeling wonder as we perceive that beauty, particularly at this moment, may not be our first, immediate reaction, but it is not naïve. It is resistance. It is a way back to wisdom, to belonging, to gratitude for all we are provided.
If our spirits feel dry these days, let's find manna. Find wonder. Let our prayers rise with clouds and marvel at our city's trees. Let our tears mingle with the Willamette. Let your breath fall in rhythm with the wind. We do not need to be productive to achieve a pie-in-the-sky community. We only need to be present.
Because our God of manna and the God of Zion is still teaching us how to live differently. Not by fear, but by wonder. Not by force, but by bread.
The light of dawn will come again. May our life together bear witness to that dawn.
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