top of page
Search

Watered by Grace

A Reflection on Justice, Joy, and Resilience

by Rev. Robin Lunn


My Lenten Rose
My Lenten Rose

One of the things I love most about this time of year is sitting outside in the early light of an Oregon summer. This morning felt especially delightful—the air cool and soft, hawks circling overhead, and the blueberries on my bushes just beginning to ripen. Against all odds, the Lenten Roses are still blooming! Just days ago, they had been flattened by the heat, but with a little water and a bit of time, they’ve been revived.


It’s a moment of quiet beauty, the kind that almost tricks you into thinking the world is well.


But beneath this stillness, I feel the tension—because the world isn’t well. As I breathe in this small peace, I’m also grieving the cruelty unfolding around us. The latest policies coming from the Trump administration, especially the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill”, are not beautiful. This bill and other policies are brutal. They strip rights, remove protections, and target the most vulnerable. And more chilling than the policies themselves is the twisted glee with which some receive them.


It is not joy: It is something far more hollow, and dangerous.


It is a glee rooted in denial, in a broken spirit that believes scarcity can be solved by erasure, that if they are gone, I will be okay. But that’s not salvation. That’s fear, weaponized and internalized.


As James Baldwin wrote, “The reason people think it’s important to be white is that they think it’s important not to be Black.” That same toxic logic persists today, only now it clings to new targets: immigrants, trans people, unhoused neighbors, Muslims, and anyone deemed “other” by those desperate to protect a fragile sense of identity and control.


This is not just about race, it’s about every form of supremacy that feeds on the lie that someone must be less so I can be more. That is not joy. It is not beauty. And it is certainly not the Gospel.


But this past Sunday, in the face of that distortion, our congregation said something radically different. We said yes.


We said yes to becoming a Justice-Focused Resilience Hub—a place where grace is lived out through relationship, healing, welcome, and commitment. In a time when fear is being sold as policy, and cruelty as strength, we chose the path of community and courage. We chose to be people who water the earth with compassion, who rise up again like those Lenten Roses, even when the world burns hot literally and figuratively.


2nd FCC Building
2nd FCC Building

This Sunday, we will celebrate 173 years of mission and ministry at First Congregational UCC in Salem. Over nearly two centuries, our church has seen fires and floods, wars and reckonings. There have been many seasons when our petals were wilted, and our roots strained. And yet, time and again, love and commitment have revived this community.


Our ancestors believed in the radical hospitality of the Gospel. They took seriously the words of Jesus in Luke 17:21: “The kingdom of God is among you.” Not far away, not someday. Here. Now. And if we, like them, truly believe that, then we are called to build a world where justice is not a dream but a daily act.


In a few days, I’ll head to the UCC General Synod, our national gathering, to be nourished by the wider church. After that, I’ll travel to Maine for time with family, rest, and probably some lobster. Like the Lenten Rose, I need this watering, this grace, to be ready for the work ahead.

3rd FCC Building
3rd FCC Building

And there is so much ahead. Becoming a Resilience Hub isn’t just a title, it’s a commitment to transform how we live, give, serve, and love. It’s a decision to amplify the power of God’s love through our building, our hands and hearts in this urgent moment.


We have already said yes. Now let’s tend what has long taken root in this place—where radical welcome has been planted, sustained, and renewed across generations. Let’s keep watering the soil with love and purpose, trusting that even in a scorched and divided world, something beautiful, true, and joyful can rise again—made new for this new day.


Here's to resilience!

Pastor Robin


Click Here to see the presentations and learn more about what being a Justice-Focused resilience Hub might mean.



 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page