What a profoundly sad week.
It started with a viral video of a random, brutal killing of a young woman on a train. Then came a horrifying political assassination of a young man on a college campus. And yesterday, on the 24th anniversary of 9/11, always a gut-wrenching day, there was also a high school shooting.
My heart is so heavy.
In moments like these I turn to writing. So, here goes...
We are living in a time of massive political unrest, much like the 1960s, I suspect. A powderkeg ready to explode with wars, protests, riots, violence, and assassinations, where the sanctity of human life comes a distant second to the blind pursuit of ideology, regardless of whether or not it is rooted in reality.
People casually toss heated words around like grenades: Fascist. Socialist. Marxist. Communist. Does everybody who uses these radical labels even know what they mean? Can they explain the differences?
I know I can't.
But we all know they are bad. Labels you don't want. Designed to hurt and dehumanize people with whom you disagree in order to justify awful actions.
Words like these -- and worse -- when repeated ad nauseum and amplified by politicians, celebrities, the media, teachers, and your next door neighbor can hypnotize you into believing they are true and motivate the mentally unstable to act in unthinkable ways.
Ultimately, I think fear got us here.
Fear of opposing ideas. Fear of a different way of life. Fear of losing a deathgrip on absolute power. This fear has led to rage. And hollow condemnations of the violence that fearmongers inspired makes it all worse.
Inbetween my sadness, anger and shock of this week, I have to wonder... when did we stop agreeing to disagree? And when did the ideas we disagree with stop being simply WRONG and start being EVIL?
I mean, you'd do anything to stop someone truly evil, right? Even something as extreme as taking a life feels justified when the stakes are that high.
But what if YOU'RE wrong? There are no do-overs in life and death.
Whether it is the last gasps of a woman on a train, or a man on a stage or thousands in burning skyscrapers, death seems like the ultimate silencer -- quieting the deafening voices floating inside someone's mind or firing out of someone's mouth.
But voices are stronger than bullets. And knives. And planes.
There are countless examples throughout history, from Joan of Arc to John Lennon. When someone attempts to unjustly silence a voice, it becomes an echo.
On the surface, it may look like our country is divided left vs right, but I think the existential battle we are facing today isn't political, it's spiritual.
Good vs evil, hope vs hate. Could a belief in something bigger and better than ourselves fix this frightening state we're in? Maybe. Faith steps in to right our path when we've lost our way or swallows us up into the darkest hole when we turn our backs.
Faith. We need more of it.
My faith is usually private. Quiet. And strong. Even as a Catholic, my faith doesn't expect me to sit in a church pew every Sunday to be considered a good person -- doing good things does! Especially when they are hard, unpopular or inconvenient.
On their worst days, people of faith don't look down, they look up. Anybody who thinks otherwise doesn't really get why people pray. It isn't the same as a wish you make on a birthday cake or a dandelion. It comes from your soul to ask for strength and courage in the dark.
Today is dark. So this is me, asking.
We are at a tipping point. This experiment called America is fragile and wounded, but I still wouldn't want to live anyplace else. Sitting here in the long shadow of 9/11, I never thought I would want to go back to that time. But amidst all that numbness and horror, a beautiful light emerged as our country united, as AMERICANS.
Stitched together by what we had in common, not ripped to shreds by what divides us.
Tonight, I pray to God that the brave souls who lost their lives 24 years ago and the precious lives lost this week will join a chorus of angels who will heal our nation.
We need it now more than ever.
Amen.
.jpg)
