My oldest friend, Jay, took me up on an adventure to walk from Chico to Red Bluff (about 40 miles) right before New Years 2017. We decided to take the railroad track for most of the journey. It became a way for us to “clear the cobwebs,” talk with each other, and hear God’s will. It was so meaningful; truly, a pilgrimage that I will never forget. I’m grateful in more ways than I can say for all the yearnings that we expressed and all the lovingkindness given.
Thank you, Jay, and all our traveling angels (especially Joana and Joann!).
The killing of Desmond Phillips exactly one month ago has been on my mind in a special way today. His brutal death reveals a community tension around black lives, law enforcement, and mental health disability in Chico. Even while the District Attorney officially announced that the officers were “justified” in shooting Desmond, I find no comfort in their verdict. Desmond had no trial, yet he was sentenced to death in less than 30 minutes. On this Good Friday, theologian James Cone would have us remember that these “crucified bodies in our midst” are “the real scandal of the cross.”