Listen to him


It's been a hard week; suffering is hitting pretty close to home. Stories of sexual harassment in workplaces - including a place where I once worked, Parliament Hill - continue to surface. The Gerald Stanley verdict on Friday night showed clearly how very far Canada is from reconciliation. And we caught the end of a documentary last night that profiled the opioids crisis and its effects on the small city in which my husband grew up, where his family still lives. I am feeling overwhelmed.

And this is where, in line with what Karen said this morning, I can empathize with Peter. Just as Peter started to build tents, when the documentary concluded last night, my husband and I had that very discussion - what can we do to reach out to so many of those around us who are addicted? To address gender inequality? To foster reconciliation? We cannot just sit back with suffering all around us. What can we do?

I think, like Peter, our asking this question didn't come from a bad place. I recognize that we - as white, educated, heterosexual, middle class Canadians - have privilege and that action on our part is necessary to change things. Peter just wanted to figure out what was going on, to be able to explain it.

And then - "This is my son. Listen to him." And everything Peter knew about the Jesus as the Messiah started to change... and Peter realized that, in following Jesus, he would also be changed.

Despite my impulse to do something, to act - God is telling me to listen. And I know that God makes a point of standing with those who are suffering, with those who are not being heard - so maybe, if I am still, I will hear God through Indigenous people who are marginalized, through women who are not believed, through people with addiction who are trying to tell us what supports they need, if only we would listen. And in listening, I can only pray that we will be changed.

Laura S.