In very tough times, we lean hard on community and faith. We did this during the horrors of Jan. 6 and on 9/11. In past decades, some of us drew deeply from our moral stance about civil rights and we need to do so again. Some of us prayed at vigils against the Iraq war and more recently held our faith communities close during the COVID-19 pandemic. These are, if you like, the chapters of our experience as people of faith. They may help us feel that we were there; they date and define us. May we prevail. In between, here are a couple of my chapters.

Chapter 1: Do you remember the way it felt when it was finally possible to go to the movies? Some of us went from our church to the Amherst Cinema in February 2022. It was all very carefully staged and safe. We saw “Minari” and decided to go back with partners and friends in tow. That time the movie was “Nomadland.” No more than five people in all were allowed in the theater at one time.

Going to the movies was one of the things I missed most during the pandemic along with group singing and attending services in the sanctuary of our church building. Experiences of both being in church and at the movie theater confirm that they are social occasions, helping create or sustain community. Perhaps most importantly, they both potentially offer an encounter with something new or different to shift one’s own experience or perspective.

I am reminded of the fact that in any positive experience it is how we are encouraged or made to feel that assists in making for a positive memory or association. That evening at the cinema was so sweet; welcoming staff members, Italian soda drinks, restrooms you could use (just one, but no lines). We wore our masks and were careful to social distance. There was free candy the second time around as a boxed order of Swedish Fish and Junior Mints and such was about to expire. We renewed our memberships as if they were our vows. All the drama of the movies was in place; the previews and the trailers; the wonderful riff announcing the feature; the house lights going out. My kind of church. Some angels were making the Amherst Cinema an “in person” visit again.

Chapter 2: Let’s come forward in time. It is now 2023. I am making time to spend by water, in nature, in historic buildings, making or listening to music. Often, I walk with friends and sing with a chorus group. I look around me and admire one of my church friends who makes embroideries. It is like a ministry as she often has someone in mind as she sews. Life is so precious. Will we heal after the violence committed against Black and brown people, like the murder of George Floyd in the summer of 2020? Will we prevail after the assault on our democracy on Jan. 6? None of us can do this alone.

Chapter 3: It is 2025 and the day of an inauguration that fills me with dread. Thankfully, it is also Martin Luther King Jr. Day and I decide to mark it as I want to remember it: by writing letters of appreciation at my local community center. I navigate the snow and join neighbors and town residents with staff from the Rec. Dept. and the town manager’s office to make cards for first responders. There are all sorts of materials and supplies at the card-making tables. There is fresh water, mandarin oranges and little Italian cookies as a snack to share. I think everyone was represented at that occasion, from little kids to elders over 70. We also made bookmarks and as we worked, we occasionally asked for a glue stick or a marker or commented on a cool design or just quietly got on with our work. The warmth of building beloved community.

As U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said, “Community is the antidote to despair.”

Hetty Startup just stepped away from the leadership team of the Interfaith Council of Franklin County and is a trustee of the First Congregational Church/UCC of Ashfield. She writes on behalf of the church for The Ashfield News occasionally and for the Amherst Indy.