A D.C. POLITICAL REPORTER ON FAITH
Photo from Unsplash.
I started my day on Ash Wednesday three years ago like most other ordinary days. I got up for an early morning spin class in downtown Washington, D.C. and stopped by my parish, the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes, on my way back to receive ashes to mark the beginning of Lent. I remember feeling joyful and peaceful, speaking briefly with my priest before walking home and getting ready for my 9 am- 6pm shift as a breaking news reporter at The Hill. That Lenten season was particularly special to me, because it was the first I would observe as a newly-confirmed Episcopalian.
However, any sense of peace I may have felt during the day was shattered between 2 and 3pm when news broke that a gunman had opened fire at Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. I was quickly thrown on the story, writing through the latest developments and monitoring more. Instead of sitting with the news and digesting the horrific impact of what happened in Parkland, I found myself almost robotically watching for updates to add to my original story and later moving on to the next story. There was only time to carry on in that moment.
Three years later on Ash Wednesday, I found myself sitting in the sanctuary of my parish experiencing a very different mass amid the throw of the global coronavirus pandemic. The U.S. was nearing 500,000 deaths from the virus, a number that continues to grow. Far too often, journalists and readers alike get caught up in the numbers and the developments of tragic stories like Parkland and the coronavirus pandemic that we forget to digest the enormity of what happens in the moment a story breaks, and we become almost numb.
As a Christian and an Episcopalian, I feel fortunate to have a faith and community where I can sit and process these issues. Whether it’s through meditative prayer or talking things out with fellow parishioners, my faith has served as a refuge for what can be a rewarding, yet exhausting career.
It reminds me of Matthew 11:28-30: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”
As for why God allows horrible events like shootings and pandemics to happen, I don’t know. My mom once told me that when my Grandma Donna died, her grandmother told her ‘it was God’s will,’ which quite understandably was not appreciated by my mother. Yet some 40 years after her death, my grandmother’s spirit influences my family in so many special ways. I felt this three years ago when my mom and I drove by the family’s old house just outside of Rochester, NY. The house was under construction and happened to be unlocked and mostly unchanged! For the first time, I got to see where my mom, aunt, and uncle grew up. Three months later at Christmas time, we visited the house again with my aunts, uncles, and cousins.
For my cousins and I, who never had the opportunity of meeting her, seeing the house was a special way to get to know our grandmother. While it sounds strange, I have no doubt God and my grandmother had a hand in creating this joyful moment. Our faith really does work in mysterious ways that we don’t always understand, and maybe that’s a part of our journey.
I do know that my church inspires us to take action against injustice to create a better world as Christ did nearly 2000 years ago. As a journalist, I am given a platform to call attention to injustice and shine a light on how we can do better. As an Episcopalian, I am blessed to be a part of a church that is actively working to grow while combating injustice. I am immensely proud to be a part of a church that has prioritized having women, people of color, and members of the LGBTQ community throughout its leadership ranks. While there is still much work to be done, the effort has given way to empowering us to create change.
The Most Rev. Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop and Primate of the Episcopal Church, famously described this power at the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle in 2018. “I am talking about some power,” Curry preached. “Real power. Power to change the world. If you don’t believe me, well, there were some old slaves in America’s Antebellum South who explained the dynamic power of love and why it has the power to transform. They explained it this way, they sang a spiritual, even in the midst of their captivity.”
My career often puts me close to the turmoil of the world, and oftentimes I struggle to feel at rest in the moment of covering those events. But my faith always gives me the safe space to be with God. Whether it’s praying, meditating, or taking a walk with Him, I know that my spirit will find its way back to rest.
