Dear St. Luke’s,

One year ago, was a monumental day for my family. I helped Leandra fill her car with toddler supplies and crammed our son into his car seat and we took one last picture before they left our home of four years to begin anew in Alexandria. I stayed behind and worked with the movers, and as each box was taken out over the next two days, I could feel all of the memories and stories we created in that space leave as well.

That was a sad day that was also filled with excitement and hope. Now we are settled in our new home, pictures are hung, furniture is placed and we are creating new memories. Our old home will soon be filled with life when the new rector, an old classmate of mine, moves in to start his ministry in Martinsville.

Going through transitions and changes can remind us that no time is without meaning. It was often the most mundane, or even stressful times that make the biggest imprint on our psyche and our environment. The hardest thing we had to leave behind was the train stencil that we made over our son’s crib right before he was born. It was a total disaster. The stencil did not work as expected, we argued about colors, and an hour-long project turned into a two-week-long ordeal, and we both shed a tear and waxed poetic when we realized we could not take it with us. Getting upset with each other and working through it made that symbol more powerful than if everything had gone smoothly because it came to represent how we grew together.

This week also marks a year that the Capitol was invaded by a group that actively sought to stop the election from being certified. I remember calling Leandra to tell her what was going on while she was driving and she almost didn’t believe me. As I packed boxes, I stopped to check my phone every few minutes and I could not believe what was before my eyes, and that we were moving in right down the road. The last few years made me realize that our democracy was flawed and fragile, more so than I assumed, and all of that brokenness, division, and lies seemed to be focused in that one place in that one moment for the world to see.

Symbols, intentionally created or otherwise, are all around us, and they carry tremendous power. In our Christian life, we use these symbols to remind us of the grace that happened long ago but continues to reconcile us to God today. The cross is the most recognized symbol that we use, and it reminds us both of that terrible day filled with pain and of the resurrection that followed. In my family life, that train stencil was a symbol of the strength of our marriage. In our religious life, the cross is a symbol of God’s enduring commitment to a broken but beloved people. I pray that in the near future when we are reminded of what happened a year ago at the Capitol it will be a symbol of how far we’ve come, rather than a symbol of the discord that persists in our political lives.

In many ways, the cure for our political instability is those WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) bracelets that were briefly in vogue a couple of decades ago. If Jesus thought you were fundamentally sinful for your political beliefs, he would probably ask to have dinner with you, rather than avoid you. Loving your enemies is a good way to do away with enemies altogether, and as we face symbols of the division that is amongst us, we need to be prepared to show love to those who are determined to make us enemies.

Blessings,

Nick