Dear Friends,

Even though it’s 25 degrees as I write, and in church we’ve just entered the season of Lent, I can’t escape a familiar creeping giddiness. The sap is running, the pussy willows are peeking out, and colorful seed packets are blossoming in the hardware store and the mailbox. Yet, even as the sunlight lengthens both ends of the day, some of us may not feel that spring energy. We may be weighed down by issues beyond Canterbury’s garden beds and frost heaves. We may hunger for signs of healing in our nation and peace beyond our borders, but the news is so bleak. Good people, good citizens feel the urge to withdraw, to stay home, to keep hibernating. The problems are so big, so deep, so dangerous that we may think, what’s the point? These days it’s just so easy for people who care to fall prey to fear and cynicism about life and our life together.

But now we’re in March, and this March ends in Easter for many of us. So with that in mind, perhaps we can help each other resist our impulse to hide away. March is an in-between month, part sleet and part crocuses. If past years are any guide (I hope they are), we still have at least one more blizzard to shovel out from, and still we’ll manage to stomp through the new snow to harvest branches and force some forsythia and crabapple on the kitchen table. Now is the time to let hope be nurtured by neighbors and friends. We can help each other make it to spring. Easter reminds us that even in the face of great evil, life persists, not just for some but for all, and together we can know liberation and hope. And we New Englanders know something about hopeful waiting: even in the grip of spring fever, somehow we manage to wait to start our seeds!

In Peace,

CUCC Pastor Becky Josephson