“You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the heart of a stranger—because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” —Exodus 23:9
Lately, I’ve been watching the headlines with a knot in my stomach. The global economy is trembling under the weight of reckless policies and sweeping tariffs. Every new announcement from the Trump administration seems to bring another jolt—markets down, prices up, trade partnerships fraying. For many of us, that anxiety shows up in very real ways: the shrinking of a retirement account, the worry of a job loss, the quiet panic about whether we’ll be able to care for the people who depend on us.
This kind of fear is not abstract—it’s personal. And it’s valid.
But there’s something else stirring beneath the worry. Something quieter, harder to name. As the system lurches and groans, as we begin to acknowledge just how fragile it all really is, I find myself wondering: What if the system that’s collapsing was never really sustainable to begin with?
What if the capitalism we’ve been conditioned to trust—this machine of constant growth, extraction, and inequality—was already failing the vast majority of people, and the planet itself?
And what if this moment of collapse, terrifying as it is, also cracks open the possibility for something better?
I’m not talking about naive optimism or bypassing the grief. I’m talking about holy imagination. The kind of imagination that emerges when we allow ourselves to dream beyond what we’ve known. The kind of hope that grows not in spite of the ashes, but through them.
Could we imagine an economy rooted in care instead of consumption?
One that values interdependence over individualism?
One that recognizes the sacredness of the Earth—not as a resource to exploit, but as a relative to honor?
Robin Wall Kimmerer writes,
“Wealth among traditional people is measured not by how much you have, but by how much you give away.”
What would shift if that were our shared economic ethic?
We’ve lived for so long under the myth that there is no alternative—that capitalism, in its current form, is the only way. But that myth is breaking down. And in the breaking, we are invited to become co-creators of something new. Not simply to resist collapse, but to compost it. To take what is decaying and turn it into soil for a future that is more just, more loving, more alive.
So today, if the fear is real—and it probably is—let it come. But let it come alongside wonder. Alongside a deep remembering that empires fall, but love endures. That economies crumble, but communities remain. That even when everything feels uncertain, God is still moving, still mending, still making all things new.
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
But maybe… maybe today is a good day to plant a seed.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
When you imagine the collapse of our current economic system, what fears arise in your body? What longings?
What inherited assumptions about “security” or “success” might be ready for composting in you?
Can you envision an economy shaped by compassion, generosity, and sustainability? What would change for you, your community, and the Earth?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer for Holy Imagination
God of seeds and stardust,
You know how afraid we are to lose what we’ve known.
We have clung to systems that promised us safety,
even as they stole from the Earth and our neighbors.
We confess our complicity. We name our grief.
And we dare to believe that this breaking might also be birthing.
Give us courage to feel what is dying.
Give us wisdom to see what is being born.
And give us hearts tender enough to imagine
a world made not for profit,
but for presence, for sharing, for joy.
May we not run from the collapse.
May we compost it.
May we rise, not to rebuild what was,
but to tend what could be.
Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Tending What Wants to Grow
Today, instead of trying to fix or control what feels overwhelming, begin with your body.
Notice where the tension of economic uncertainty lives in you. Is it your shoulders? Your chest? Your gut? Gently place your hand there and breathe. Inhale enough. Exhale release.
Now, imagine something small and true that you love—an herb in your garden, your child’s laughter, the warmth of your neighbor’s smile. Let that memory root you.
With that grounding, choose one action—just one—that reflects the world you long for. Maybe it’s offering help to someone in need, redirecting a resource toward mutual aid, or writing down your vision for an economy that honors the Earth and every body.
It doesn’t need to be dramatic. Think seed, not skyscraper. As you move through your day, repeat to yourself like a prayer:
“Let this be the beginning of something beautiful. Even now.”
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.
This writing breaks through my inner turmoil and discomfort. This piece truly opens my hope with new energy. It coincides with the liminal space of my night-time wandering and wondering. Thank you. I am "in" as we take each other's hands and "wonder" and "dream" together.
Thank you! I needed to hear this today.