Courageous and Naive
Dear St. John’s
This past Sunday, if you were at church, you likely recall the jarring sound of the fire alarm going off several times during the service. After the second or third time, I noticed how anxious many of us—myself included—were becoming, not knowing if or when the ear-piercing siren would malfunction again.
It made me reflect on a book I’ve been reading, Christ in the Rubble, by Palestinian-Christian pastor Rev. Munther Isaac. He argues that the horror in Gaza is sustained by international complicity, silence, and political favoritism. He lives in a world where when an alarm goes off, it isn't a minor inconvenience—it is a matter of life and death.
Moments like this leave me riddled with guilt and helplessness. In a world marked by so much suffering and despair, it feels impossible to keep up with all that’s happening, let alone feel like I’m making a meaningful impact.
The “Season of Creation” can evoke a similar weight. With so much pollution, misinformation, corporate greed, and political maneuvering, it’s easy to become cynical—to feel like using a reusable water bottle or recycling a cereal box is done in vain. And perhaps, on a global scale, it feels that way. Yet our actions at St. John’s—small as they may seem—do make a difference. Every canned good or box of diapers donated, every encouraging email or drop-in visit to a sick parishioner, every Halloween costume given so a child in need can celebrate: all of it matters and all of it is connected.
I’m not trying to be overly optimistic. I find it hard enough to be optimistic in general. Rather, I am choosing to strive for courage—and perhaps a bit of ‘holy’ naivety. Courageous enough to still believe in God in a society that often views faith as antiquated or, worse, champions a god antithetical to the Gospels. And naive enough to hold fast to hope and light amid the darkness of our current moment, especially as we approach the upcoming elections.
In this week’s reading from the Psalms, the poet writes: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; my God, I put my trust in you…” (Ps. 25:1–2a). I find solace in this declaration, and my prayer is that you will, too.
In Christ,
Anthony+
