Some cry out warning with megaphones; others with whistles. And still others rise to raise their voices in song: Hold On, Hold On, My Dear Ones. Here Comes the Dawn, they sing- first a few, then hundreds- joining the choir as they march through the streets of Minneapolis.
I have been following the Twin Cities Singing Resistance on Instagram and feel emboldened by the movement that is spreading to cities throughout America. It is a movement of love, of resistance, and of the spirit’s steadfast refusal to succumb to numbness and despair.
January has surely beaten us down. With snowstorms and cancelled plans; with personal heartbreak we hold tender and close; with fascism and violence throughout this nation that fills us with fear, outrage, grief – and perhaps a renewed resolve.
We are overwhelmed by the attacks on other nations and on our people here at home in the United States– by the impact of ICE on immigrant families; the imprisonment of people- including young children- in inhumane conditions; the violent murders of ICE citizen observers Renee Nicole Good, a mother of three, and Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse in a VA hospital. And by so much more.
And yet we are told over and over again by the prophets: Do not Turn Away.
February invites us to Embody Resilience. In times such as these, embodying resilience is a ‘both-and’. It invites us to join a grounded movement of resistance: choosing love, compassion, and joy in the face of hate. In the midst of despair, it invites us to sing.
But embodying resilience is also an invitation to step back, to renew our spirits with rest. And with play.
This past week, I have been attending virtually the UUMA Institute for the Learning Ministry- a ministers’ conference I had originally planned to attend in person, but weather and personal circumstances had other plans. Thankfully, we have learned well throughout this decade how to adapt– as evidenced by our own UUC shift to online services the past two weeks.
Yesterday, I walked outside in my neighborhood while listening to the Institute worship choir on my cellphone singing joyfully. I walked past many neighbors shoveling, some a bit disgruntledly. But then I saw her: a little girl in pink atop the largest pile of snow, laughing gleefully. I was reminded of my own snow adventures in the Rochester winters of my youth, and when I returned home I collapsed into the deep white of my yard and looked up at the clear blue sky, soaking in the light. I waved my arms and legs to form a snow angel, embracing the moment with joy- taking in the beauty, the cold, and the wonderful feeling of being alive.
May you embrace the invitation to embody resilience this February– whether you are called to sing resistance songs in the streets (or on Moral Mondays in front of the courthouse), or simply compelled to play in the snow like a little child. Or, perhaps, a little of both.
May our spirits find ways to rise together, once again, to meet the moment with joy and with love.
Peace and Blessings,
Rev Terri
Join me for lunch in the Community Room on Wednesdays February 4th and 11th from 12:30 – 1:30 PM. Pastoral care, counseling, and other appointments in February can be made via my calendly.
