Held in the Heart of Christ: A Reflection on Tragedy, Tenderness, and the Call to Peace
In the wake of a devastating school shooting during chapel at Annunciation Catholic School, I grieve the loss of innocent lives, reflect on Christ’s comforting presence in suffering, and find solace in the tender embrace of grandmothering—reminded of our sacred call to love, serve, and be instruments of peace.
Rev. Anne
This past Wednesday the country once again experienced the shock and horror of a school shooting. This time while the children, the faculty and staff prayed in chapel at the Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis. I weep for each of those children, their parents, the teachers, the administrators and others whose innocence was taken with such a jarring act, and who will live life forever experiencing this trauma. And I grieve for the two children who have died and their parents because their children’s lives were cut short.
In reflecting upon this event, the Dean of Christ Church Cathedral, Eau Claire in the Episcopal Diocese of Wisconsin published a pastoral letter online. Dean Richards wrote:
“As people of the Resurrection, we know that Christ is not absent in these moments of darkness. The God who entered fully into human suffering is with us now—holding those who mourn, walking with those who are brokenhearted, and sustaining us in our own grief and questions.”
On Thursday and Friday, Stacy and I were called down to Charleston for Grammy Duty to baby-sit our 20 month old granddaughter. It was a great and tiring 48 hours where I experienced the essence of parenthood, or should I say, grandmothering.
I experienced snuggling with my granddaughter for over an hour after she had awakened from her afternoon nap. I imagine she had these thoughts in her head. “This is someone I feel safe with”, “This is someone who cares for me”, “This is someone with whom I can lay my head upon their chest and be held gently and with reassurance in their arms.” With wide eyes she quietly looked about checking to make sure Grammy Stacy did not leave her sight. Her breath slowed to a rhythm of my chest rising and falling as she laid there in peace.
I envision the tender way Jesus welcomed the souls of the children this week—held close in divine embrace. Picture the serenity beyond comprehension, the peace that surpasses all understanding, as one rests their head upon the heart of Christ.
Again quoting Dean Richards, “Let us hold one another close in prayer during these days, and let us recommit ourselves to the mission of Christ to love, to serve and to be instruments of peace in a world longing for hope.”
May we never forget!
Blessings,
Rev. Anne