From the Rector…
There has been much conversation surrounding the events of Saturday night in downtown Montgomery—some accusatory, some solution-oriented, and much of it rooted in deep anxiety. In today’s world, our perceptions are often shaped by social media. Who we follow influences what we see, how we interpret events, and what we’re willing to believe. Yet the internet and television rarely offer the full truth. As the old adage warns: a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. In the information age, I wonder just how much danger our fragmented knowledge creates.
The truth is, we each carry only a piece of the truth. Listening deeply to others—especially when their truth differs from our own—helps us gain a more complete understanding. This kind of listening requires us to take what some call “the balcony view”—the ability to see the broader context—not just our limited, street-level perspective.
When we insist on seeing only from where we stand, we narrow the world. We constrict what is possible, not just for ourselves but for others as well. Expanding our vision calls for curiosity, humility, and imagination. It invites us into a place of vulnerability—but it also opens the door to transformation and possibility.
Jesus had a gift for seeing both the suffering in front of him and the deeper truths beneath it. He didn’t offer easy answers to the problem of suffering. Instead of casting blame, he revealed the shadow sides of society and invited people to imagine a different way. He taught that peace is not simply personal—it’s social, even eschatological. It is part of the very kingdom of God breaking into the world.
Jesus called us to love God, love our neighbor, and love ourselves. He embodied that love through acts of healing, feeding, deliverance, and ultimately resurrection. But more often than not, he simply listened. He sat with people, saw them, and responded with a calm presence in the midst of a system ruled by fear, propaganda, and scarcity. He reminded his followers that they needed each other—and that to love others was to trust that their own needs would be met, too. This is the essence of beloved community.
Jesus also reoriented his followers toward the eternal Kingdom, not the fragile empires of this world. For him, salvation was liberation. He taught that while suffering is real, it is never the end of the story. The worst thing is never the last thing. Our hope is always in what is yet to come.
As I reflect on the mass shooting Saturday night, I share in the grief, fear, and exhaustion so many feel in the face of growing violence. But from the balcony, I also see a world full of unwell people—those who committed the violence, and those responding with scapegoating or silence. No one who is well discharges a gun into a crowded street. And no one who is well lacks compassion or refuses to understand a situation truthfully in order to make it better.
There were no inherently bad people on Saturday—only profoundly broken decisions. And those decisions don’t stand alone; they reflect a broken system we all inhabit and, in some way, sustain. Until we’re willing to step onto the balcony, examine our own shadows, and listen deeply to one another, we will continue to miss the fuller truth—and with it, the path toward healing and peace.
Light and Life,
Candice Frazer+