Summer in New England

Hark, the cry of my poor people: “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” – Jeremiah 8:19a, 20 (NRSV) 

My friend Marissa is a social media influencer who focuses on New Hampshire politics, organizing, and motherhood. She recently posted a one-minute video entitled, “Summer in New England as a toddler mom,” finished with a shooting-star emoji.  

The opening clip is her sweet 3-year-old daughter—who’s friends with my 3-year-old son—climbing rocks at the beach, looking for snails in the sunshine. It’s picturesque, the kind of moment any parent treasures. I have dozens of videos of my son just like it. 

Then, the screen shifts, cutting to a grainy clip of ICE detainees being transported from an airport barely 20 minutes from her house and mine. This particular airport transports about 100 detainees a week.  

Next, back to sweetness: her daughter in a pink life vest, kayaking with her dad.  

Then, men climbing out of a van onto the tarmac, hands zip-tied tightly in front of them.  

It keeps going like this. Toddler dancing on a dock, then masked ICE agents waiting in an unmarked vehicle. Rain-booted toddler splashing in puddles, then people pushed up a boarding ramp.  

Do you, like me, live with this kind of moral dissonance? Do you look at your sun-bathing cat or your adorable grandchildren, and wonder how in God’s name do we hold these two realities side by side?  

Or perhaps you’ve spent this summer coordinating rides, making sure your husband isn’t driving alone in case he’s pulled over. Perhaps you’ve filled out a family preparedness plan, naming who will care for your toddler if the unthinkable happens. 

Here we are, at the end of the summer, and we are not saved. Not one bit. There are actions that we can take every day to do justice in this unjust world. And still, the grief of this time is deep and lasting. It’s the grief of Jeremiah, who prayed: 

Prayer
O God, our eyes are fountains of tears, our hearts are sick. For the brokenness of your people, we are broken. Send us the balm that will heal our nation. Amen.

About the Author
Rev. Kate Kennedy is a New Hampshire-based UCC pastor pursuing a career in family therapy.