Monday, April 6, 2026: A note and invitation from Rev. Lindsey Kerr of Christ Church United Methodist: (sorry it's so late...)
A note and invitation from Rev. Lindsey Kerr opf Christ Church United Methodist:
Emmaus friends - we're at crucial moment for the Sanctuary Coalition. Next Tuesday (that's tomorrow) the Sonoma County Board of Supervisors are voting on a sanctuary ordinance that excludes the sheriff (which permits the sheriff to continue to collaborate with ICE).
We're looking for as many people of faith as possible to turn out and be in solidarity with migrants. Any chance we could get a handful of folks from your community to turn out?
Date: Tuesday, April 7th, 2026
Time: 9:00AM
Location: Board of Supervisors Chambers
575 Administration Drive, Room 102A
Santa Rosa 95403
And a poem by Joy Harjo to lighten us along our paths
Morning Prayers
I have missed the guardian spirit
of Sangre de Cristos,
those mountains
against which I destroyed myself
every morning I was sick
with loving and fighting
in those small years.
In that season I looked up
to a blue conception of faith
a notion of the sacred in
the elegant border of cedar trees
becoming mountain and sky.
This is how we were born into the world:
Sky fell in love with earth, wore turquoise,
cantered in on a black horse.
Earth dressed herself fragrantly,
with regard for aesthetics of holy romance.
Their love decorated the mountains with sunrise,
weaved valleys delicate with the edging of sunset.
This morning I look toward the east
and I am lonely for those mountains
Though I’ve said good-bye to the girl
with her urgent prayers for redemption.
I used to believe in a vision
that would save the people
carry us all to the top of the mountain
during the flood
of human destruction.
I know nothing anymore
as I place my feet into the next world
except this:
the nothingness
is vast and stunning,
brims with details
of steaming, dark coffee
ashes of campfires
the bells on yaks or sheep
sirens careening through a deluge of humans
or the dead carried through fire,
through the mist of baking sweet
bread and breathing.
This is how we will leave this world:
on horses of sunrise and sunset
from the shadow of the mountains
who witnessed every battle
every small struggle.



Comments
Post a Comment