Dear Friends,

This evening, as I drove home from my office at the church, my heart broke as I listened to the news reports providing updated details on the Hamas terrorist attacks on Israel and the intensification of conflict to the level of war. I could feel myself praying the words of the Prophets and the Psalms, “How long, oh Lord?” How long will we go on like this? How long, oh Lord, before you shall “judge between the nations, and arbitrate for many peoples; so that they “shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks”; so that “nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore?" (Isaiah 2:4).

In the face of unspeakable tragedy, what am I to do? What are we to do? There are, of course, no quick or easy answers to these questions, and the few concrete things we can do, like send money for aid or reach out to comfort our Jewish brothers, sisters, and siblings won’t end the ongoing strife. 

This week in church, we will be reading Paul’s letter to the people of the church in Phillipi whom he nurtures with his teachings and guidance. This letter is known for its emphasis on joy, but the reality is that Paul writes from prison, during a time of hardship and oppression. I’ve always wondered how Paul could have mustered the faith and courage to focus on joy when his life was in such turmoil. 

It is during times like the ones we face right now that we might take our cues from Paul. Because what he is doing is bringing peace to the world from the inside out, not unlike what Ettie Hillesum intended when she wrote during the Holocaust, “Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it toward others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world.”

Or as Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things."

So, as I finished my drive home this evening, I took a deep breath and thought to myself, “What is true?" Do I notice what is noble? Can I write about what is right? Do I embrace what is pure and lovely and admirable? Things come to mind, of course, extraordinary signs of God’s radical goodness in the world, in spite of the tragedies. But in these early fall days, I try to look for more ordinary signs in my own tiny world. The beauty of strings, woodwinds and voices at last week’s Mozart Festival, the glow on children’s faces after their baptism last Sunday, the gathering of neighbors at Powhatan Hill Park on Monday to celebrate the Indigenous tribes of our land. The overwhelming gratitude I felt as helping hands and open hearts embraced beneath the falling leaves, growing crisper now and rustling in the breeze. 

What is true? Do I notice what is noble? Can I write about what is right? Do I embrace what is pure and lovely and admirable? How about you?

 In Christ,

 Amelie+