Coping with Tragedy in our Community
It is unspeakable, dear Jesus. Someone from among our own community, suddenly gone. How can it be? It was an ordinary day until we heard the news, and still we don’t believe it.
Our hearts are filled with dread and uncertainty, and we want to pull our children closer and hold them tighter. What do we say to them? To each other?
And from the confusion pounding in our ears as we pray comes a grace. Your words surface: Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid. You first called those words across the turbulent surface of the wind and water to your apostles, who were huddled in terror in the boat. You say it now to us.
Take courage. You are inviting us to take on your courage. We don’t understand what has happened. We have no words. We know only that we turn to you and ask for courage, and you offer it.
It is I. I am with you always. Yes. We take a deep breath and feel your presence. You are with each of us right now and with us as a community of faith. It doesn’t help us to understand, but it helps us to calm our breathing.
Do not be afraid. Really? Dear Jesus, right now it feels like that is all we have to cling to! The panic may return, our bewilderment and uncertainty. But yet, your invitation is clear: Do not be afraid. That is for me. For all of us.
My dear ones, I know you will continue to grieve and be stunned by this loss. Your pain and confusion will only gradually recede. My assurance is that you don’t need to feel this pain alone. I will be with you. And the good news I am offering you will give you hope.
Dear Jesus, who understood fear and confusion so well, bless this community in our great hour of loss and need. Be with us as we gather to weep and mourn at your altar. We beg you for the courage to delve into the silence, the wisdom to speak at the right time, and the fidelity to remember that you are with us in this great hour of need.
Amen.