My spirit feels heavy this morning with the violence and tragedy and ugliness of last week. As I sit here trying to hold that reality, I also remember and gently remind myself how I was uplifted and encouraged in our Sunday morning service and then in the afternoon vigil in Pack Square for the Tree of Life Congregation and the victims and their families and loved ones. We sang and prayed and hugged and held hands in grief and outrage and in solidarity for peace and our neighbors of all faiths. The gatherings and support and outcry across the country give love, hope and strength to hold us in these days so that they and we might re-emerge in new expressions of life giving resilience and resolve.

I wrote the first draft of this Beacon column before these particular recent events of hate and violence erupted. The image I used to start my column seemed too light at first, but on reflection is still speaks to me and carries the message: When our heart is heavy and our head is down, we may need to sit with that for awhile, not because we are giving in or giving up, but in order to strengthen our hearts, lift our heads and come alive for justice and joy and the inclusive spirit of life and love.

I had come into the office to write. It was one of those days we think of as regular and uneventful, not bad but not great either. I was weighed down a little by some news or world events, caught up in my worries about the elections and a congregational email or two. I was thinking about a couple of the November services. It didn’t help that it was dark and a steady rain was falling.

I settled in and when I looked at the Order of Service from last year’s Hymn Sing Sunday, I paused, and for some unknown reason I just sat there and held it and really noticed it.

First I noticed the date, November 5: my birthday, followed by the title, “Always Singing Proudly.”

I read those words and heard them as a reminder of what is there for us as part of being alive; it’s “inherent.” I also heard them as an admonition or a challenge of how to be. And there directly underneath the title and my birthday was a joyous picture of a warbler, head up singing his song proudly and confidently into the great big world around him. It was a life-filled image from spring in a grey down day.

It was also a reminder of what lives inside each and every one of us waiting to lift us up, waiting for that moment to feel alive, hopeful, purposeful and good. Yes, it may be momentary – I’m sure he flew off after a few songs and after the photo was taken. But in a quiet moment of reflection the photo became a touchstone of strength, encouragement and inspiration.

Thinking on it again, I know that when the warbler gives voice to his song he puts himself at risk. A singing bird attracts notice. But if he doesn’t give voice to that which he knows to be true, the song will not survive the winter. The beauty will disappear.

The write up for “Always Singing Proudly” says that in some traditions your song gives the world form and resonance. The picture of a warbler singing enthusiastically is after all just a picture of a bird, but it is also a picture of a day in the life of this congregation and other congregations of similar orientation formed by each of us coming together, where each day our song, our voice gives the world form and resonance for life and love and beauty that will not be silenced.

This week we ordered a new sign to replace the one that has been torn down twice. Have you ever noticed that Sign and Sing have the same letters? It reads: Love Welcomes All. (and then in rainbow colors says) We are: All Connected, Stronger Together, Responsible for Each Other, And for Stewardship of the Earth.

So let us Sing. Sign. Vote.

And In the midst of all that would have it be otherwise, may you find your thankful song this Thanksgiving month.

May you be nourished that you may nourish life!

-Rev. Jim McKinley