It’s the way of love. It’s the way of mercy. It’s the way of peace. And we see it arising all around us. We are told that safety requires someone else’s suffering, but that isn’t the way of Christ.

Instead, we see grandparents sharing their voices on street corners and young adults keeping watch. We see restaurant workers bringing food to the traumatized, neighbors delivering groceries, and strangers protecting strangers. We see a 70-year-old Lutheran woman following ICE around Minneapolis in her Subaru Crosstrek. These are ordinary people who trust that mercy has the power to crack the armor of domination.

Community is beautiful and holy and diverse. We will not allow brutality to redefine who we are.

Join us in saying “enough.” Not here, not anywhere.

As Black History Month begins, we honor the legacy of Black faith leaders, organizers, and communities who have long stood at the forefront of justice, dignity, and collective care.

Black history is not something we remember once a year—it is something we live. It reminds us that faith has never been passive, and hope has always been practiced through courageous action, collective care, and community organizing.

This month, we invite people of faith and goodwill to recommit themselves to telling the truth, staying rooted in love, and organizing together for a more just and liberated Nevada.

A couple of weeks ago, a video from the Chair of the Legislative Committee to Review Oversight of the Lake Tahoe Regional Planning Agency popped up in my Instagram feed. She was sharing about her role overseeing planning agencies in the Lake Tahoe Basin, and it was a timely reminder of how much work happens after the Legislature gavels out.

When the Legislative Session ends, the Interim Session begins.

Earlier this month, the newly created Regional Rail Transit Working Group held its first meeting. This group, authorized during the last session, is tasked with studying regional rail options, including the heavily congested I-80 corridor to Storey County. During the interim, lawmakers, agencies, and community partners are digging into issues ranging from education and housing to the Nevada Youth Legislature and rural behavioral health.

While we won’t see new bills introduced until 2027, the work very much continues. These interim conversations, studies, and working groups are where ideas are shaped, relationships are built, and momentum begins, long before a bill ever gets a number.

So I’m curious: what issues are on your mind right now?
What should LEAN be paying attention to, organizing around, and preparing for in the months ahead?

Drop a comment, send us a message, or grab coffee with us. The future of Nevada’s policies is being shaped now—and we want to build it together.

How might we, in the coming year, use our mouths and our minds, our hands and our feet, to bear true witness—always within the light of God’s amazing grace?

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Just weeks ago, we proclaimed Emmanuel, God is with us. We gathered around the waters of baptism, lifted the voices of our youth, and celebrated new life in Christ. And at the very same time, we have been living amid grief, violence, fear, and uncertainty.

This week, Jesus meets us on the mountain in the Gospel of Matthew and speaks his first sermon, not from a place of power, but from a place of deep seeing. Jesus looks at the crowds, hears their cries, and declares nine times in a row: You are blessed.

Blessed when we are exhausted.
Blessed when we are grieving.
Blessed when we are struggling just to make it through the day.

Before anything else, Jesus names this truth: we are blessed because God is with us.

And this blessing is not meant to be hoarded or individualized. Jesus’ “you” is plural. It is for the crowds on the hillside, for generations past who endured suffering and cried out for mercy, and for all of us today, carrying burdens both seen and unseen.

The kingdom of God does not dwell in the halls of power or where wealth flows easily. God’s reign is found among those on the margins, among those seeking justice, among those showing up for their neighbors even when the cost is high. In these places, love is made manifest.

So how do we lean into this week, living in the tension of the already and the not yet?

We begin by remembering our blessedness—not as a denial of hardship, but as a grounding truth. And from that place, we take up the call of the prophet Micah: to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God—a daily, faithful walk, one step at a time.

Some days will be joyful. Some days will be heavy. And on the days when fear or exhaustion creep in, Martin Luther’s words still ring true: “I am baptized.” Or perhaps for this week, we remind ourselves again and again:

I am blessed.
God is with us.
We are not alone.

May this truth carry you into the days ahead.