No easy words - Rev. Catherine Nance


(Picture from the Associated Press)
The first image I saw from Parkland, Florida on Wednesday afternoon was a woman reaching for other people, her face wracked with grief, eyes red from tears. We have become used to these pictures after ‘another school shooting.’ This one was different, though. The grief, the disbelief, the horror was the same we’ve seen before. What grabbed my attention, and my heart, was the cross smudged on her forehead. 

She had been to an Ash Wednesday service perhaps early that morning or at noon. Did the minister say, from dust you came and to dust you shall return. Repent, and believe the gospel? Or other words. Did she kneel? What was her prayer? Did the ritual bring her comfort or give her courage to face the coming days?

As the photographer snapped her picture, was he or she aware of the cross? I know nothing about the woman in the picture except that she is a practicing Christian (who else goes to Ash Wednesday services?) and, at that moment, the last thing on her mind was the cross made of ashes on her forehead. A witness to the rest of the world that she – no matter what – she believes in a sovereign God, believes that love overcomes hate, and that God’s unity drives out the fear of disunity.  It may not have been until later that evening when she was getting ready for bed (did she sleep at all Wednesday night?) and looked in the mirror that she remembered the Ash Wednesday service.

As she grieves and comforts and works through the numbness, as she answers questions and enters into debate about new policies (or chooses not to), I pray that the smudged, shadowy cross is an anchor for her. Who knows how many were touched, empowered, or perhaps confused, by the testimony on her forehead?

There are no easy words. No solutions to be made without honest talk about where we truly put our trust. There is no explanation that will turn the horror into sense. But we do have a testimony. Even when we’re not aware our picture is being snapped, we are testifying. What is your anchor?

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