These words are a conjoining of the traditional liturgy from Ash Wednesday and the first question and answer from the Heidelberg Catechism. These words are about the frailty of human existence, about the hope to which we must cling, and about God’s faithfulness even in the midst of suffering, loss, and death. These words give voice to my heart this week.
On Monday, we received the news that the Rev. Mat Grover died while on a mission trip to Uganda with World Vision. Mat was the associate pastor of St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in Tucson and an effervescent presence within St. Andrews, Presbytery de Cristo, the young pastors’ group of the Synod of the Southwest, and all other groups, teams, ministries, and missions of which he was a part. Mat was the consummate “glue guy” whose sheepdog-like instincts sought to bring all wayward souls back into the safe confines of Jesus’ beloved community. Our prayers go out first and foremost to Mat’s wife, Amy, and their children, Jane and Ethan, and our prayers continue from there in an ever-widening circle to include his colleague, the Rev. Dr. John Tittle, and especially, the St. Andrews congregation.
And our prayers continue to reach outward in ever-widening circles, for all of us have lost those whom we call beloved. Throughout the synod, in both our presbyteries, in every church, every congregant, including every pastor, elder, and deacon: We all walk the valley of the shadow, which is why Ash Wednesday can be so poignant. As we remember that we are earth and ashes and dust, we also proclaim a legacy of life and light and love that will not let us go.
As we are those whom God, in God’s love, will not let go, may we be those through whom God, in God’s love, reaches others. May we, like joyful, springing sheepdogs, corral the lost, accompany the lonely, and bring together all in need of the Lenten message that in Jesus Christ, sin is forgiven, guilt is removed, shame discarded, brokenness healed, evil overcome, love encountered, light illumined, and eternal life received. Oh, and Jesus’ beloved community found in one another. May we never forget in the darkness the gift of God’s community that shines light most bright.
Amidst our sorrow, may we long for God’s joy,
Brad Munroe
|