Our kids go to school and daycare. Usually drop off is by rote—be kind, listen to your teachers, have fun, remember that so-and-so is happening tonight. A brief morning litany, followed by "Oh thank God the car is quiet. Who am I, again?" But too often, it's not. Too often, drop off is harrowing. We still do the litany, but underneath we're praying, "come home again. Let it not happen here. Dear God, keep these children safe." And then a drive away from the school wondering whether we're mad to do something as normal as dropping our kids off at the most normal place in the world.

This week, drop off was harrowing, after the national news of a school shooting in Nashville and the very local news that a student at our partner school, Hornsby Middle School, was killed by gun violence outside his home in our church's neighborhood. I don't know any parents who still think "it couldn't happen here." It happens everywhere: firearm related deaths (of all kinds—accident, homicide, suicide) are now the leading cause of death among children and adolescents in the United States.

Our horror and grief, for these events that make national headlines and for those that touch closer to home, have become familiar. As has the cynicism about the willingness of our rulers to make the situation better. They're familiar, but we are not and cannot become used to them.

I'm not going to try to make sense of senseless violence here, nor am I going to tell you what to do or how to vote. I am supposed to be inviting you to our Holy Week services. But I'll tell you what I did. I called my Congressman and advocated for policies that I think would make our kids less likely to experience gun violence. I coached a youth soccer practice as a way of investing in the lives of local children. And I gathered with other members of Saint Paul's to tell the story of the world's redemption and to meet our Lord in the breaking of bread and the sharing of wine. It wasn't enough and it didn't save the world, but I think it was faithful. 

These horrors, whether national or local, should spur us to action. The destruction of anyone created in the image of God (and that's everybody) should appall us and set us to honest work. I will not tell you what to do, but I will tell you to do. Quite literally for the love of God, take some intentional action that you believe might help.

And for making sense out of evil and senselessness, yes: come to Holy Week. Don't try to set aside your grief and anger or numbness, or your Masters distraction and busy-ness. Bring it all with you to our many opportunities this week to pray. Holy Week has a lot to say about the world's worst evil (rampant and banal) and God's response. Holy Week insists both that Golgotha is real and Easter is true. These stories are where Christians find meaning if we find it anywhere. So come. And be changed by the Spirit of God and then go change the world. 

Eric+

Offerings Received this Week $3,091.90

Operating Expenses to Date $193,093.26

Total Income Received to Date $369,543.02

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