Insane dominates the news; it is the mourning and burial of the children (and adults) in Connecticut.
Unthinkable.
Insane drove the day. We are left with the pieces.
Someone aptly wrote that Jesus was born into just such a time. King Herod, enraged that he was not told of Jesus' whereabouts, ordered the murder of every toddler boy age two and under.
Unthinkable.
Insane drove the day. Precious families were left with the pieces.
If Jesus is the sane side--the Chapel of our worship--what do we do with insane?
We bear it, call it out by name, and, entering into the pain with new action, call on the Sane Side to once again be our Living Chapel.
When Sane is driven out, Insane moves into the vacuum left behind.
That has authored our unthinkable. Unlike Herod, we know the whereabouts of Jesus. He's waiting on us.
May the unthinkable move us back to the Sane Side of the Chapel.
