“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” — Matthew 5:4
I woke this morning with grief curled in my chest. Maybe you did too.
It’s not just the news—though there is plenty. It’s the dawning realization that, in the wake of Tuesday’s meeting between Donald Trump and Nayib Bukele, we have crossed a threshold. We are no longer watching the erosion of democracy. We are in a full constitutional crisis.1
Even some who supported this administration feel the shift, the tremble underfoot. The rule of law no longer applies. The norms we trusted are being shattered. The illusion that this would all self-correct, that leaders and institutions would push back, has dissolved.
I find myself grieving—not just the danger we’re in but the future we thought we might have. I am grieving who we might have been as a nation and what could have been possible if we had chosen care over cruelty, integrity over impulse, and courage over control.
This is not just political grief. It is soul grief. And it’s not a detour. It’s the path.
Holy Week teaches us this.
On Palm Sunday, Jesus entered Jerusalem not on a warhorse, but on a donkey. It was a protest march against the Empire. The next day, he flipped tables in the temple. He didn’t go quietly. He named corruption. He exposed injustice. For that, he was betrayed, arrested, disappeared.
But he never lost the thread of love. Even in his grief. Even in the dark.
That story holds a mirror to ours. We are not living in peacetime, not spiritually. Not politically. These are crucifixion days. We are called to walk them with open eyes and cracked hearts.
What I’m learning—slowly, imperfectly—is that grief is not a sign of failure. It’s a sign of love. Ferocious love. Unyielding love. Grief is the ache of the heart recognizing what matters most.
If we let it move through us—if we don’t try to numb it, dismiss it, fix it—it becomes something holy. It becomes devotion: Devotion to walking in integrity, even when the road is unclear. Devotion to tending what still burns, even when the sky is falling. Devotion to something more durable than dominance: relationship.
I’ve been noticing how my emotions come in waves:
Shock — “This can’t be happening.”
Disorientation — “Who am I now? What matters now?”
Despair — “There’s no way out.”
Stillness — “Maybe I don’t need a way out.”
Softening — “I can’t control this, but I can feel it.”
Reverence — “Even now, life is sacred.”
Devotion — “What can I tend, even in the dark?”
There is no clean progression. These are not stages. They are tides. You might feel three of them before lunch. That’s okay.
What we are opposing is not just authoritarianism. We are opposing the disembodied logic that says only power matters. We are opposing the lie that numbness is strength, that detachment is wisdom, that love has no place in politics.
The truth is, grief is political. Care is political. Tending the sacredness of life is political.
Jesus never taught us to avoid suffering. He invited us to stay awake through it. To weep. To pray. To hold each other. To walk the road anyway.
So this Holy Week, let us feel the rupture. Let us grieve what leaders we elected have shattered. But let us also rise, as people who still choose love, as people who still walk each other home, as people who will not disappear into despair because we belong to one another—and the story isn’t over yet.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What part of you is grieving right now? Can you name it without trying to fix it?
What small flame of devotion—care, action, tenderness—can you tend today?
How does your grief connect you to others, even across difference?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer for the Grieving and the Devoted
O Holy One,
We are not okay—but we are here.
We are tired—but we are still tethered to hope.
Grief is rising like a tide, and we will not silence it.
Not today.
Not when the world is aching.
So we bring our tears, our numbness, our trembling hands.
We bring our questions, and we bring our rage.
We bring it all to You—not for fixing, but for holding.
Transfigure our sorrow into compassion.
Turn our heartbreak into holy fire.
Teach us not to escape the pain, but to listen to its message.
And when the fog lifts, even slightly,
Show us where to place our feet.
One step. One breath. One act of care at a time.
Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Tending in the Dark
Find something small you can tend today.
A cup of tea. A seed in soil. A note of comfort to someone who is grieving too.
Let it be a prayer not of words, but of presence. Let it be a devotional act that says, “I am still here. I am still loving. I am still awake.”
Then, if you’re able, take ten minutes and simply breathe.
Place your hand on your heart and whisper: “Even this. Even this is part of the path.”
Let yourself be fully human.
That is resistance. That is grace.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
May 19-22, 2025 - Preaching and Worship FREE Online Summit: From war to genocide to a global climate crisis to a nation that perpetuates racism, misogyny, transphobia, and more from the highest office in the land, how do we prepare a sermon, a liturgy, a song, a prayer? Learn from some of our best preachers. REGISTER HERE.
June 4, 2025, 12pm ET - Jeff Chu has written a new book on a topic close to my heart: Soil! The title is “Good Soil: The Education of an Accidental Farmhand.” I am so pleased to be interviewing him. Together, we’ll explore what it means to cultivate “good soil” in our lives, our communities, and our spiritual practices. I hope you will register. Your registration includes a copy of his new book.
July 20-25, 2025 - The Art of Wilding: A 5-Day Expedition in Wyoming for Women Leaders. Click here to learn more. Only one spot left!
August 11, 2025, 2pm ET - Dr. Andrew Root and I will be hosting a 6 part series on Spirituality in the Secular Age based on his research. The dates are August 11, 18, September 8, 15, and October 6, 13. Mark your calendars! More on this soon.
September 4, 4:30pm ET - I will be collaborating with the Anderson Forum for Progressive Theology to host a conversation with Thomas Jay Oord on Open and Relational theology. It’s a FREE event. Register here.
October 15-18, 2025 - Converging 2025: Sing Truth Conference (all musicians invited!) at Northwest Christian Church in Columbus, OH. Register here!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
I was in a little outdoor market here in Spain yesterday. I wanted to buy a €0.60 hair clip. The vendor was busy with other customers and not paying attention to me. It would’ve been so easy to slip that small thing into my pocket and walk away. But I thought of the importance of integrity and honesty and doing what is right, and how that all seems to be slipping away in my home country. My small act of resistance and rebellion was to pay for it.
Thank you thank you thank you, Cameron. This is so right on. Amen and amen.