"the crucifixion of Robert Lewis" mixed media collage with leaves, acrylic paint, and found objects by gregory a milinovich october 2023 this october i was invited to participate in a three day trip which was called a "pilgrimage of pain and hope." while that may not sound super exciting to many of you, it actually really intrigued me. i am the kind of person that wants to feel big feelings, and i am drawn to the deep places, so i was interested in traveling to the scranton area, where the trip was planned, to see what it might look like to be a pilgrim that was wide-eyed and listening to the pain and the hope in the stories of others. this trip included hearing the stories of immigrants to the northeastern pennsylvania area, and the work in the coal mines that many of them did. it included hearing from folks who are working for housing justice and equity in downtown scranton. it included hearing from those indigenous people who first inhabited that land.
note: i wrote these words back in 2017, after a series of tragedies. you can see the original post here . i have adapted these words to deal with the unthinkable gun violence perpetrated against people of color and children in our country in the last couple of weeks. i share them here as a way to move us, as people of faith, to something more than just words, cynicism, or empty religious platitudes. It has been a season of terrible tragedy. And once again I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers. It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way. People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is often only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement. The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer. We are