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This week is hard. Aside from Monday, January 20 being “blue Monday” and quantifiably the hardest day of the year for many people, it was also the date of the inauguration of the 47th president of the United States.


We’ve known since November that Monday would be hard for many of us. Maybe most of us. And for those who don’t find the leadership change in the US troubling, I can’t imagine that being a small minority in our church would be any easier. And all of this in a context when the leadership of our own country is in turmoil – between the leadership race in the Liberal party and the likely election soon to follow, realistically the government will not get much substantive work done through the end of summer.

Most of you know that I’ve been in recovery for over two decades. A friend in recovery once said to me a long time ago: “Sometimes you know it’s going to hurt, and then it hurts way, way worse.”

Watching parts of the inauguration left me speechless, as I’m sure it did you. Seeing Elon Musk (whether intentional or not) use a salute used by Hitler and then reading the administrative priorities outlined by the President and his intended cabinet outlined on the White House’s updated website… all of it is heart-wrenching. It makes me livid. I’m sure it makes you livid, too. I knew it was going to be bad – and then it was way, way worse.

We are at a time of social reckoning that requires serious care and attention, community building, and community organizing. While all this is happening south of the border, we also see the signs of increased polarization and the compulsions to reassert white (male) dominance here at home, too. We like to think this couldn’t happen here, but it’s on its way for us, and for our communities. As someone who has bounced back and forth between both countries my whole adult life, in my experience, we tend to trend about 10-15 years behind the U.S. on many things.

I also wrote this letter to you on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. A friend had posted many quotes that are a balm during what is a dangerous and turbulent time, remembering that Dr. King’s work was not done alone, but as part of a collective:

“The time is always right to do what is right.” MLK Jr.

“Women, if the soul of the nation is to be saved, I believe that you must become its soul.” Coretta Scott King.

“The ultimate measure of a [person] is not where [they] stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where [they] stand at times of challenge and controversy.” MLK Jr.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” MLK Jr.

This last one hit me hard. Because I know with every fibre of my being that the polarization we are experiencing here in Canada is the same as what has been happening in the USA for decades. And we have to find a way to overcome polarization and to build bridges across seas of anger and oceans of disagreement and difference.

Our scriptures from the Gospel of Matthew may be instructive in this sense:

Matthew 5: 43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be children of your God in heaven, for God makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your siblings, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the gentiles do the same? 48 Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Creator is perfect. [Adapted from the NRSVUE]

We know none of us are perfect; we also know we are children of God. And it is ok to grieve and to rage and to despair deeply. But then, like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., we must refuse to be overcome by hate and we must live out our values by building those bridges that strengthen community. And, if you’ve seen Bishop Budde’s sermon from Tuesday, I think she spoke so prophetically and in love. I deeply appreciate her leadership for such a time a this.

If you know me, I don’t think or plan on a 3-5-year timeline… I think in decades. And while both the present and the immediate feel challenging, I am reminded of Cardinal Dearden’s prayer, “Prophets of a Future Not Our Own”:

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us… We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.


The challenges we face are symptoms of a larger struggle. They are the outcomes of decades of oppression and of struggles to dominate at the expense of others. They are currently acute, but they are not new. And so, I hope for us that we continue to interrogate what are the root causes of our polarization? What has contributed to the rise of plutocrats and oligarchs? Where have we failed to exercise political agency to engage policy limits on domination and oppression? Where do we see ourselves as powerless? Where and why have we given up?

And… if we approach leadership for such a time as this, how can we do that in a trauma-informed way? How do we build agency and circles of solidarity and support so that no one of us needs to carry the entire burden? I’m writing this from the (Re)Generate residency for leadership development. A couple of the participants are in places physically and emotionally where they can’t be fully engaged in the ways they intended. This morning after worship, one of them said that they appreciate our collegiality functions like a choir where when someone needs to pull a breath, the rest of the choir still carries the tune.

In building circles of solidarity for the challenges that are before us, I hope you know that you are seen and you are enough, and you, in your showing up, you can also take the time you need to drop back and breathe, knowing that together we call carry the tune.

Please know during this time I am praying with you and for you. And I am here with you, even if I am not there with you. And I hold each of you in so much personal regard – no matter who you are, no matter where you come from, and no matter what your ministry. Even when we don’t see eye to eye, know that you are seen and loved.

I leave you with the words of the Christ from the Gospel of John:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

With deep love and respect,

Moderator Carmen Lansdowne