The crisis can be generative, too
Will we learn from it?
Hey friends, before I get into my reflection for this week, I wanted to remind you of last week’s announcement. Myself and some colleagues have launched the National Faith Coalition to End Homelessness, and announced National Homelessness Sunday on May 3rd, 2026. This is a huge deal, and we’re so excited to roll this out. Make sure you get all our upcoming announcements by signing up for our mailing list at NFCEH.org.
Can’t wait to see what we can do together.
When I was writing my new book, I spent a lot of time interviewing churches and faith-based organizations on the frontlines of homelessness. My goal was to tell their stories—past, present, and future—to give the rest of us hope and ideas about what’s possible.
It wasn’t until about the tenth time it came up that I realized how much COVID-19 was part of every single story. It was like the virus was a recurring character in my book, leaving its mark on every story in a similar way.
I want to be so clear and precise here: None of what I am about to say should be seen as negating or overruling the devastation of COVID-19. Over a million lives were lost, futures derailed, permanent illness started, and so much more. This isn’t about “a blessing in disguise” or even a “silver lining”.
This is about how crises force us to depend on one another in new ways—how they generate a renewed commitment to flourishing—and the lessons we can choose to learn from that (or not.)
The stories I heard all reflected this generativity. Firm Foundation Community Housing in Hayward, CA talked about how the loosening of approvals and the generosity of bored professionals allowed them to build 74 brand new units of deeply affordable housing in a single year. Church at the Park in Salem, OR partnered with local officials to open and operate several new shelters because the pandemic revealed just how vulnerable the unsheltered were and allocated new funding. The inability to use their building for worship helped All Saints Episcopal in Portland, OR double-down on their community support, and helped Calvary Lutheran in Minneapolis, MN finalize their decision to sell their building to become affordable housing.
We experienced this in broader ways as a country, too. The nationwide eviction moratorium gave us the first plateau/decrease in new homelessness in two decades. Relief payments and child tax credit payments helped families stay afloat, and others put toward savings for the first time. Our lessened environmental impact gave us clearer skies and healthier ecosystems. We learned ways of connecting and even working remotely that benefited those with disabilities and lessened the strain of long commutes and rigid work schedules.
It was like we all caught a glimpse of what life could be like if we slowed down and took care of one another first.
And then, we threw it all away—and forced ourselves back to the “normal” that wasn’t working for the majority of us.
So we find ourselves in another crisis. As Trump decimates what little safety net vulnerable people have in the form of healthcare, supportive housing, and SNAP, we are again called back to a way of living that is generative and deeply relational. We are already seeing it. I pray we see more of it.
But I pray more that we learn the lesson. The generative flourishing can’t go away when the immediate danger fades (if it ever does.) We can’t go back to “normal”, when “normal” keeps leading us here.
These moments reveal more than a reaction to disaster, but a reorientation toward one another—trading the revolving door of crises for a gentler, kinder life together.
The crisis is an apocalypse; a revelation.
Will we learn anything?
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a crisis as a revelation !!! !!!!!!