Welcome to Grace!

We are…..

  • A center for worship and fellowship;
  • A school for discipleship and stewardship; and
  • A community for healing and outreach.

We live our mission through regular participation in the Eucharist and the practice of our baptismal promises. Traditional Eucharistic liturgy and fine music are hallmarks of worship at our parish. Please explore our website to get to know us or, better yet, come visit!

For more information or to be added to our mailing list, please contact us at [email protected].

From the Rector: Our Grief Can Change Us

Dear Friends in Christ,

 

I had written a completely different letter to you this week. And then I heard the news of the
shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. My grief at that event has crowded out
other thoughts right now.

 

I felt helpless in the face of the world’s brokenness. Like many parents, I imagined my own
children at school, and I felt their vulnerability so acutely. I tried to figure out how to explain it
to them, and then I realized I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I have spent too much time
reading the news, trying to understand the unfathomable brokenness.

 

What makes this moment so heavy, for me, is that it comes hand in hand with so much other
grief. I read that the shooter in Texas had been bullied throughout childhood, and I think of the
stories I know of malice, exclusion, and bigotry, both among adults and kids. And of course this
evil comes on the heels of the shooting in Buffalo and its testament to the persistence of white
supremacy. We humans pass on the disease of hatred.

 

The larger picture is no better. We have just passed the milestone of a million dead in this
country from COVID. The war in Ukraine is sending out ripples of devastation, driving up global
food prices and creating hardship far away from the fighting.

 

I know that people turn to the church for answers. But, at a time like this, there is no
theological answer. There is no tidy explanation of why God allows suffering or why evil
defeats goodness.

 

But the church does offer us two tools.

 

The first is lament. There is a long, long tradition in our faith of refusing to pretend that things
are OK when they are not. It is in the psalms, and the prophets, and in the words of Jesus
himself. Matthew’s gospel quotes the words of Jeremiah, words that feel all too apt this week:
“A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children;
she refuses to be comforted, because they are no more.” We can and should lament. Perhaps
it is right that we cannot find comfort, because our grief needs to change us.

 

The second tool—which flows from lament—is solidarity. We Christians try to live in the
pattern Jesus set. Jesus came to be with humanity, even if it meant sharing in our suffering,
because he so much wanted to be with us. So whom does our grief put us next to? How do we
show the suffering that they do not grieve alone?

 

This weekend, our country observes Memorial Day. Officially, it is a time to honor the war
dead; culturally, it is the beginning of summer, a time for pool parties and barbeques. I hope
this weekend might be something more than either of these things. I hope it might also be a
time for lament, for finding the people whose sorrow you need to share. Find a way to stand at

the foot of the cross with them. Weep with them. And them remind them that they are not now

and, God willing, never will be alone.

 

 

Yours in Christ,
Anne+