What Might Have Been

This week there is nothing else to write about. The deep pervading sorrow and loss, in the wake of such a violent week has everyone captured. Some, much more than others, depending on how connected they are to the lives lost. If you are deeply connected, I hope that this reflection does not offend. I can’t imagine what I would want to read, were I in your shoes. What I do know is that we will carry this, for a long, long time. We grieve for what is lost, and we grieve for what will never be. We are angry, scared, horrified, overcome with sadness and a sense of helplessness. I can literally feel my chest tighten and have to remind myself to breathe. Drawing air in, then exhaling, stifled for so many.  The pain is too immense to fathom.
There will eventually be a story, but it will not satisfy. No explanation can ever be given that will make any sense. Unprecedented is a word used often these days. We look for the nightmare to end, and we try to find comfort or a response or a way to console each other.
 
This week the gift of the best story in all of scripture (my humble opinion) is offered for Christian reflection (Luke 24). Two distraught friends are walking away from Jerusalem, where they have witnessed unspeakable violence. They had such high hopes for him. He would be the one to lead. He would be the one to challenge the forces of oppression and build a new kind of reign. And he was executed among criminals. As they walk, their conversation focusses on the events of the past week, and they are joined by a stranger. Its as if he knows nothing about the crucifixion. As they talk, they gain a deeper understanding and begin to see something they had missed. Through the crack in their grief, Jesus is made known to them. In the ordinary act of breaking bread, they have an experience that changes them. Their journey changes, but the mission of bringing hope to the hopeless, compassion to the grieving and love to the outcast remains.  
 
Nothing they can do will ever change what has happened. What is done is done. What might have been, will never be.  I wonder if they ever moved past finding someone to blame, someone who might have been able to change the outcome. When the stranger on the road, becomes the Christ beside them, new possibilities open. We are not there yet, but the stranger still walks beside us. In time, perhaps we will recognise the God who joins us in grief.
 
What happened last week was not God’s dream for any of us. What might have been, is changed forever and we live with what is. May we remember that we are not alone.
 
Rev. Donna Tourneur ministers among the people of Trinity United Church in New Glasgow and beyond.