On the Minister's Mind

by Rev. Laine Morgan

This has been a very big week for spiritual practice. I’ve found myself repeatedly re-centering—coming back to an awareness of my place within my own realm of influence—and I know I am not alone. When we explored these themes together at the Center on Sunday, it became clear that many of us are carrying the same sense of uncertainty and asking similar questions about the role faith plays in the midst of it all.

For me personally, two situations have been competing for my attention. One is the upheaval and chaos unfolding in Minneapolis. The other is the winter weather, impacting a vast portion of the country, including places where people I love live. Both are creating stress. Both are costing lives. Both invite scrutiny of preparedness and leadership. And both leave me feeling helpless and far away. Ultimately, both turn me back toward faith.

If I allow it, I can easily lose sleep—or entire daylight hours—absorbed in media coverage of events happening hundreds of miles from where I stand. I can second-guess every decision made, or not made, by those closer to the unfolding events. I can waste precious energy assigning blame for every semi-truck sliding across an icy interstate or every violent encounter erupting on a city street corner. I can analyze the senselessness of lives lost in an instant, or project today’s circumstances into the future and wonder if the “ice”—of either kind—will ever melt.

And yet, I’m aware that for most of us, what’s happening in Minneapolis feels more distressing than the winter storms. Why is that? I believe it’s because we tend to categorize snow and ice as “natural,” quietly absolving human systems and decisions of responsibility. Human conflict, on the other hand, demands moral clarity—we want to label it right or wrong and assign blame. We have a clearer relationship with weather, and a far more complicated one with power struggles between people.

So what is spiritually true here? What can we place our faith in?

In both situations, we can remember that every person involved is on a soul journey, and that Spirit is present and available in every moment to every individual. We can recognize that what we are witnessing reflects the collective beliefs of humanity—our current understanding of how challenges are met and handled on the human plane. We can hold the truth that individual choices led each person to this moment, and that lasting change only emerges from unified community responses rooted in love and care for one another. And yes, we can also remember the simple but powerful truth that “this too shall pass.”

At the heart of it, these situations have entered our collective awareness to teach us something. They are teaching me to hold compassion for those navigating an icy winter storm, trusting that others hold that same compassion for me when I am sheltering from the next hurricane. They are calling me to be part of a collective voice that denounces violence and advocates for thoughtful preparedness in the face of human stress and strain.

And in the midst of it all, I am reminded to stay centered in my own realm of influence—to be a voice of peace whenever I am in direct relationship with those affected, whether by lived experience or by the inner turmoil that comes from watching events unfold from afar. I must continually ask myself whether I am contributing to the vibration of the solution or the problem.

All of this takes practice. As I said, this has been a very big week of spiritual practice.