The Center of the Universe
January 2025
When I went off to school at the College of William and Mary, I suddenly met all these people from Northern Virginia. For the first time I encountered people who, we jokingly complained, "thought they were from the center of the universe."
Later, as I've moved closer and closer to DC in my adult years, I've learned those kids weren't all that wrong. Here, we work, live, exercise, relax, and raise children just a bridge away from the center of so much of the world's power. It's the air we breathe, and so national news events hit close to home.
Especially this week, as we've watched tragic images of the aircraft and helicopter crash, and started to hear the stories of lives lost and families grieving, our neighbors, it is so near to us. Especially this week, as we all know (or are) federal workers who are deeply proud of what they do, the center of the universe is an intense place to live.
Of course, in reality, DC is not the center of the universe. Nor is NYC or Hollywood or any other place. Rather, we are a people who are chosen and created and claimed by God, who is the center of the universe and all things. By God, who centers us in love. By God, who calls us to love others deeply and center ourselves in the priorities of those who are poor, excluded, and estranged.
Good Shepherd is a congregation full of people who are remarkably, powerfully, and deeply connected to what happens in our country every day. We are a congregation of commercial and military pilots, of air traffic controllers and airport support staff, of health care advocates and lobbyists and legislative aids, of immigrants and immigration attorneys, of students and social workers and educational specialists, of federal employees and contractors, of military photographers and policy writers – just to name a few.
You have been in my prayers this week, each and every one of you. You are beloved by God. The work you do matters. The way you show up—for those impacted by new executive orders, those who are suffering, those who are grieving, those who are being excluded in new-old ways, those who are struggling to keep up—matters.
And the work we do as a church—to speak a word of peace and justice, to advocate for those most in need—matters.
This week, in my sermon I invite you to the simple task of praying the Lord's Prayer, daily. In the Small Catechism Martin Luther reminds us that our "daily bread" is not just food. It is also "...upright and faithful rulers, good government, good weather, peace, health, decency, honor, good friends, faithful neighbors, and the like."
These familiar words are indeed a radical prayer for a world turned on its head, re-centered in love. A world that cares more for "the least of these" than maintaining our own interests and power.
Give us this day our daily bread. Amen.
Please don't hesitate to reach out to me to plan a time for coffee, to let me know how I can pray for you, or to just let me know what's going on in your corner of the universe.
Peace and joy, Pastor Kate