We need to talk with you about how we feel right now.
Because in this place, in this land, in this world, there are troubles.
You told us, Jesus, that in this world there would be troubles.
We can’t say you didn’t warn us.
But in this place this week and in this land this week and in this world this week,
it feels like lots of people I know, and we each know of,
are harried and hurting and hollow.
Seventeen-year-olds shouldn’t die without much warning, with no one to blame.
Last rides on motorcycles shouldn’t end all possible rides.
We all can fill in the stories.
We all read the faces around us and we read the news.
Paul talks about glorying in our sufferings and that feels tone-deaf
when our loved one is dying, when our heart is broken.
We want to be angry at someone. At Paul for saying such things, at the people around us, at you.
We want to be angry at you for not fixing the shoulds.
And as we are stewing and screaming and sobbing,
we slowly realize that you are in the room with us,
you are in ourselves with us,
you are all around us for all time,
aware and working and loving.
It’s Trinity Sunday.
Though we don’t understand you, we proclaim you.
And we are thankful you are here.
Because in this place, this land, this world, there are troubles.