And I don’t know about you, but here at TLU, we’ve been in a season where one of those seems more… more urgent than the other. As much as we are a people of grace, and as much as grace defines so much of who we are and how we engage the world around us, what it seems like the community here needs even more right now is peace. You see, on top of the “normal” chaos and cacophony of our world, on top of the expected stressors of grades, athletics, extracurriculars, family, friends, and everything else that one might at least have a semblance of control or influence over, we are a community that has been rocked by three deaths in as many months.

Peace seems like a lost commodity when you are reeling from the sting of death, when those around you are grieving and mourning. Especially for a community of our size, for us to lose two beloved faculty members and a first-year student is not only abnormal; it is devastating. And in many ways, our students, faculty, and staff are still sitting in the ashes of heartache.

And. As I write this, we are a day away from Spring Commencement and all of the pomp, circumstance, and celebration that it will hold. It will be a wonderful time, full of laughter, smiles, hugs, and tears of joy. Even those still shying away from the sting of death, even those still mourning the loss of Dr. Bailey, Dr. Abbasian, and Kayla, will join in the festivities.

Because sometimes, the hardest and holiest thing we can do in the face of death is stand up and step forward.

For after the Sabbath was over, very early on the first day of the week and before the sun had even risen, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome brought spices so that they might go and anoint Jesus’s dead body. And after hearing the news of the resurrection from the women, two of their number left on a journey to Emmaus, a town about eight miles from Jerusalem. And while in the upper room, Peter announced to the other disciples, “I’m going fishing.” Even though the one they had loved, the one they had followed, and the one they had placed all of their faith in was gone, and while everything within them just wanted to give up and give in, they got up, they ventured back out into the world, and there, in their grief and heaviness and fear and so much more: There, the resurrected Christ met them.

Sometimes, in the midst of death and the heaviness of grief, the hardest and holiest thing we can do is stand up and step forward. And, as we take that step forward, we might just find the resurrected Christ waiting, with outstretched arms, to meet us as well.

Friends, may you find peace this day. May the family and friends of Scott, Reza, and Kayla find peace this day. May we sit in the ashes when that is the necessary and right and holy thing for us to do. And when the time is right, may we do the hard and holy thing of standing up and stepping out.

Amen.