Day 34: Let it burn

 I don't read the news often.  Especially triggering news like school shootings.  It's enough for me to know that there was one.  Much more detail than that and my empathetic heart breaks too much. But whatever the state of my heart,  I stand convicted reading another headline.  I haven't personally done enough to change the world around me. 

I spent the better part of a week engaged in debate about the world's big problems - war,  racism, poverty,   climate change. And part of me wrestled with what we as individuals could even do about these things. Even if we somehow managed to bridge the tribal partisanship that plagues our current politics,  big problems are hard to tackle.  Even good ideas can only make small incremental dents. 

But there are problems we can fix. We just let pride and blaming the other guys stand in the way of humility that we need to accept that certain parts of our culture,  our communities and our policies aren't working.  

In Genesis,  God was so fed up with people and just turned on the rain until there was just one righteous family left. Perhaps if humanity started with good people,  we would stay on track.  But it didn't work.

My heart aches that there are mothers who are burying innocent children because of senseless  violence. All around the world. 

My heart aches that there a mother who's child was so broken that she saw no other way than violence. That mother grieves double and she buries her child alone. 

My heart aches for a friend who's toddler is entering hospice. 

My heart aches for the Ukrainians and for the Africans who suffer energy shortages because of a war in Europe. 

And sometimes I just want to burn it all down. 

A flood or a fire or some aliens that could help this earth start over. 

But Genesis shows us that burning it down doesn't work.  Doesn't fix the grief.  Doesn't heal humanity. 

God shows us a new path. God came down to join us. To suffer at our hands.  To walk through hell with us. To be present in our darkest moments. 

To change the story. 

The worst thing that can happen is not the final word. The brokenness of creation is not beyond repair. We don't need to burn down this earth to build a new one. 

The Holy mystery of Easter is that somewhere being the veil of our understanding lies a new heaven and a new earth and in the depths of our brokenness,  there is no place unreachable by the love of God. 

I will never come close to understanding this gospel.  But I lean hard into this beautiful mystery and a Easter draws near I can feel it in my bones. 

We are entering holy week.  Jesus walks deep into the heart of human darkness.  He experiences hell after hell until there is no more darkness left to throw at him.  And at the foot of that terrible cross I despair at how terrible we were... how terrible we still are. 

But Christ does not let hell have the final word.  He comes back to us and greets us with peace and breathes upon us and heals us all.