...and a few rolls of garbage bags, some serving utensils, and ice cream sandwiches. I have no idea why someone would steal these things from the church kitchen. But they're all missing of late. And (consequently) there's talk about building security and catching a thief and who's going to pay to replace stolen stuff in the meantime.
My first thought about the mini-uproar surrounding these things was that folks were over-reacting to the situation. Then I remembered. Hospice was called in yesterday for one. The cancer has returned in liver and bone for another. The chemotherapy isn't going all that well for one more. Some difficult decisions had to be confronted about long-term care for a loved one. And yet one more was laid off permanently after sixteen years of hard work and loyal service. That's in the last 16 hours.
Sometimes, it's just easier to be mad about dish soap.
Thankfully, anger isn't the only reaction. There's been lots of fervent prayer. And a family gathered with their ailing one around Word and Meal. One is taking up her Bible in a new way. Still another is learning forgiveness. Even amidst the tears, hope grows.
So faith stirs within us.
Perhaps the more cynical would dismiss this pious activity as "foxhole religion." They may, to some extent, be right. But if we take seriously the notion that God meets us in our deepest need, then we should be looking...anxious and expectant...to find wholeness and salvation when we need it most.
Make no mistake: there will be difficult outcomes here. Several funerals. Financial struggle. Criminal charges. But there will be...indeed, already is...Christ here, too. We walk tearfully, angrily and yet confidently through all that comes our way when we remember that we do not walk alone. Thanks be to God.
