Darkness Amidst the Light: Light Beating the Darkness

Dec. 28- Liturgical Calendar date of The Slaughter of the Innocents

 It is now 14 days since the tragedy at Newtown's Sandy Hook Elementary School. Two weeks of mourning, questions, fears, and a seemingly endless news cycle broken only momentarily by Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Time to make real what President Obama said at the vigil on that Sunday evening: This has to end.

That means some sensible gun control discussions and debate. Let's forget the hysteria. You know it well. I know it well. We need assault weapons in private ownership like we need to return to using quill pens and oil lamps. NO, it is not a way to protect ourselves from the government, as I heard one legislator say. Are you freakin' insane, I wanted to ask? Having hoardes of private citizens own assault weapons to "protect from our own government" is not a constitutional right. That is NOT a "well-regulated militia." That is anarchy, which by definition is not well-regulated. Arm the principals of the schools? You may very well lose a lot of good principals who don't want to be part of a gun-culture. Put armed guards in every school? Columbine and Virgina Tech had those.

And will we put armed guards at every mall, place of worship or beauty spa in the country? Will we become an armed camp with guns in the hands of every Tom, Dick, and Harry? How scary!

Cars don't kill people, drunk drivers do. That is just insane to even post as a reasonable thought. It is why we have laws ABOUT drunken driving, what you could call "Drunken Driving Control." When Minnesota got tough on drunken driving, for example, DUI arrests shot up AND deaths from drunk driving dropped. Note that no one outlawed cars- or even drinking. Just putting the two together.

Why should it be harder to get good mental health care than to buy an assault rifle? Why are background checks for gun ownership so difficult? We do it for teachers and counselors. Is owning a gun so much of a right? Freedom of the press is just as constitutionally protected, yet we say there are times and places when there is such a thing as privacy and confidentiality limiting some of that. Why are firearms so sacred?

Perhaps in that last word is part of the problem. They have become sacred- a holy grail- inviolable- more important than human lives. They have become a god. There is the real, profound issue that no one can talk about. We have set up a false god that controls us. The power of the gun. No, not the gun lobby. The power of the gun. It is devouring our nation in its primal scream to survive.

I am not a gun owner. I don't believe I would ever own one. Protection? I wouldn't be able to use it for that. I would be so afraid of over-reacting and shooting someone I love by mistake. It happened locally here just a few weeks ago. Accidental deaths by guns may be more than were killed at Newtown.

I am not against gun ownership any more than I am against people owning cars or driving cars. Let's not over-react in either direction. But let's be sensible and reasonable about it. High-capacity weapons and clips controlled or banned; assault rifles made for the single purpose of killing people banned; background checks required. These are reasonable.

Is this politicizing the deaths on Connecticut? Yes. It was politicized the minute the shooter walked into the school. It is an issue of how resolute we can be to both protect lives and rights. We have to be able to do both. We remember the freedom of speech measurement- you can't yell "Fire!" in a crowded theater. That limits free speech just as libel laws limit it and the freedom of the press. Democracy is a delicate balance between rights and protection; freedom and life.

We can do it. We are a bright and caring nation. Let's use our ability to overcome the barriers to discussion and sane legislation. Too many ore people will die if we don't.

Protecting the Schools?

NRA: Armed Security in Every School

Actually, it does make a little sense. Kind of.

But it does not address the issue. The real issue.

Gun culture. Gun worship.

Armed security in every school?

Sure- until the next mass shooting

at a mall

or a place of worship

or a beauty spa.

I'm tired of the debate. It is time for action.

I will have more reflections on this next Friday. Until then let's refocus on peace. For all.

Reflections on Newtown - part 3

Finding Forgiveness

Seems like an odd thought as we continue to reflect on the tragedy in Newtown, CT. Yet it is connected in my mind by a stroke of fate. Let me explain.

Two weeks ago I began a six-month course/training in Attention and Interpretation Therapy as developed at Mayo Clinic by Dr. Amit Sood. He has written an excellent book (link) on how mindfulness and developing certain core principles can make a huge difference in one's life. As part of the 6-month training the participants are to cultivate a different aspect of the principles each day of the week. Monday is gratitude; Tuesday is compassion; Wednesday is acceptance; Thursday is meaning; Friday is... yes, forgiveness.

The instructions are basically to become mindful of the world around you as you move through each day and bring the principle of the day to all you do. Last Friday was the first Friday to be practicing these principles. Gratitude and compassion were easy as the week began. Acceptance has been a core of my life in recovery for over two decades. Meaning- hey, I have been searching for that on a regular basis for most of six decades.

As I got up last Friday morning and did my morning gratitude list and lifted people into the sphere of compassion, I paused and wondered how I would ever bring the concept of forgiveness into life. At noon my wife called all distraught by the news that I hadn't even heard yet. It shook my world as it did for many. I went back to my office and looked up the news. I began to feel the anger of others watching this horror unfold. The early stages of the thoughts I would write last Saturday (posted Tuesday) began to form.

Forgiveness wasn't one of them. About mid-afternoon I stopped long enough to think of the AIT training course.

Oh, yeah, that's right. Today's about forgiveness.

Not now. No way.

In any case, forgiveness isn't mine to give in this setting. That belongs to the victims; young, hopeful angels cut down in a moment of terror and God knows what. Forgiveness belongs to them and their families; and the first responders still reeling, I am sure, from the sight they had to witness. Forgiveness? No, that's not for me to give. In the end it may only be for God to give, whatever that may mean in this terrible context.

Or is it?

A week has passed. Again I have given gratitude on Monday and compassion on Tuesday. Much of that came as a result of last Friday. I am grateful for so much and my compassion went flowing out to the victims and their families in waves of sadness. Acceptance- well, I have no choice. It has happened and cannot be changed. It is now indelibly etched in the American psyche, mine included. It is the way it is, like it or not. In the midst of that has to be a meaning to be learned. Maybe we as a nation will finally make a long-delayed move to keep these from happening as frequently as they do. Maybe that will give meaning to a meaningless act.

I come again to get ready for Friday with its core principle of forgiveness. Part of me wants to cry out to God: "Instead of forgiveness, how about fairness and justice and healing?" Many have cried, "How can Adam Lanza be forgiven? Let him burn in hell!" Great parts of me agree.

Yet, as the course I am doing reminds me, forgiveness from me isn't for Adam Lanza or anyone else. It is for me. My health and the health of my soul demands my participation in forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not:

• condone
• justify
• excuse or
• deny

Rather it

• sets me free
• to live by my own core values and spiritual principles. 

 It sets me free from the

• prison of 
• hatred and 
• anger and 
• fear.

It sets me free to

• envision hope and 
• a future where these unspeakable atrocities are part of a past evil.

Easier said than done.

That is my goal for tomorrow as it unfolds, though. I need it. The people I will meet need it. Not my forgiveness but their own. Not my condoning Adam Lanza's insanity or excusing it away; but putting it in its proper place- an act of a lone, sick, perhaps even evil young man trapped in his own hell that was far beyond his meager ability to control. As he planned and plotted he was making, perhaps, some last ditch effort to feel pain or loss or to get rid of it. Only in his own mind, twisted and unbalanced, it meant visiting more pain on others.

My forgiveness is so I do not get trapped in his sickness and continue to live his pain in my soul. I will not allow that to happen. I cannot allow that to happen or I will be another of his victims as my soul dies under his evil and hatred.

"Adam Lanza," I now want to cry, "Enough. Be gone! I am through with your works and scary eyes gazing from  over-pixeled pictures. I leave you to God and grace or forgiveness or whatever the Creator has for you."

This does not mean that any of those devastated parents or clergy or neighbors of Newtown need to do this. I cannot - I must not - pretend to even know the tiniest bit of their pain. But if I am to be part of a solution to this nightmare, if I am to be here to help them and our nation, I need to do this for me.

Forgiveness now has a new meaning as this Friday, a week later, dawns. May I have the grace and strength to find ways to live it as the day unfolds.


As if that wasn't enough for my tired soul, my Higher Power, my God, was not finished with me as I wrote those lines. My iPhone music shuffle worked its mystical ways one more time as what may be my most meaningful hymn came through the headphones.

Reminding me that we each are called to find that peace in our soul. It is the only way we can life it.

When peace like a river attendeth my way When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot you have taught me to say
It is well with my soul.

Though the devil will ruin Though trials will come
Let this blest assurance control That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And shed his own blood for my soul.

It is well with my soul...

Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight The clouds be rolled back like a scroll
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend

Even so
It is well
With my soul

Reflections on Newtown - part two

Grace arrived on Sunday evening. Gathered in the high school auditorium in Newtown, CT, the power of community came forth. Clergy and representatives from diverse faiths and backgrounds, stood before national cameras and showed that power comes not from the big names and fancy titles, not from the pundits or professionals, but from everyday people. The pastors, the Rabbi, the young Muslim singing the prayer were just like you and me, living in a world like you and me, until Friday. Or perhaps even until a few minutes before the cameras came on Sunday.

As a clergy myself I realized that these were all like I would have been on Friday. Getting ready for my service. Doing my thing. Just living the vocation I was called to. No one out of the ordinary, unknown beyond my relatively small circle. They were then swept up in huge happenings. They were called to minister to a town devastated, even as they themselves were devastated. That in itself would have been enough.

But it wasn't.

They have now been called to minister to the nation across the cable and TVs of millions. We watched looking for the signs of grace. We listened, straining for the words of redemption.

I don't know about you, but I heard those words and saw that grace as they put arms around each other, as they solemnly, but confidently took their moment in the spotlight and pointed to others beyond them. I felt the pain of the Rabbi as he chanted the mourning of centuries. I experienced the weariness as they all seemed burdened by a weight that is not a normal daily load. They did so with humility and gratitude for the community they were a part of. Differences of faith and belief were at least momentarily swept away and we had a glimpse of the hope of the Kingdom of our Creator.


It was no longer the slaughter of the innocents. It was a tiny glimmer of light once again shining in the darkness of a very dark place. The secret to that grace is not just turning to God, it is also in turning to each other.

Community.

I use that word often. I try to live within that word often. I am not sure I can live without it. It is not always easy. But it is first and foremost in community that grace becomes apparent.

To the clergy and people of Newtown, CT, I give humble thanks. You have a long way to go, I am sure. Healing has hardly been able to break through such tragedy. But you have, as the President said, been an inspiration. Now you must face the coming days of sadness and dread beyond the spotlight or the unblinking eye of the camera. We will be watching, hopefully as part of your extended community and not voyeurs.

Go about your work now. Go about life as best you can. But do not give up on grace or community.

Your children and grandchildren will need it as much as you.

Peace.
Shalom.
Salaam.

Reflections on Newtown - part one

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                20 children - massacred

                                Grisly descriptions fill the airwaves

                Almost obscene in the details.

                A President stands with tears as

                Parents across the nation hug their own children

                                more closely than usual.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                A Biblical image that we often gloss over.

                It's right there- December 28-

                Right there in the calendar as part of

                                Christmas. But no one wants

                To go there. Not at the Season of Light in the darkness.

                Why be reminded of the darkness:

                                "Weeping and great mourning," says Scripture,

                                "Rachel weeping for her children.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                We wail and bemoan the state of the world and yet

                                Prepare for another Quentin Tarantino blood-soaked movie,

                We urge people to "Not get political" which means

                Do Nothing

                To slow the slaughter's flow of blood across the nation's landscape.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                Columbine                          Aurora

                Milwaukee                         Virginia Tech

                Shopping malls                  Factories

                                Sikh Temple and Beauty Spa

                There are no boundaries to slaughter in a culture mired in it.

                Innocents all - children and adults-

                                Bystanders to horrific history.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                I keep trying to clear the phrase and images from my mind.

                                Black clad gunmen, hiding their pathology

                                behind false strength and bullets.

                I sit listening to Bach or the hopeful seasonal music of

                                John Rutter.

                But Magnificats and Glorias sound hollow as the images of

                                traumatized children remain on the TV.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                Now I am caught up in the anger of the days. My Christmas world has been shattered. 
                                My peace on earth has been broken. I am caught in the

                Web of violence within by the events- inexplicable, but so deadly common-

                                on the evening news or movie screen.

                I shudder - cringe- at my own response. At my own anger at

                                the powerlessness- the inability to make a difference. The

                hurt- and then the fear that someone- anyone- could do the same right here

                                where I am sitting- at a mall bookstore.

                Newtown is anywhere- and potentially everywhere.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

                I'm getting worn out. I can't imagine what the people of

                                Newtown must be feeling like. They are in need of healing.

                The wounds will go deep and broad, barely touchable

                                By anything available to them - or us- today.

                Untouchable by our words- the language of mere mortals.

                Only the grace of God may be able to bring about the healing.

                                But it is not the easy grace we often try to pass on,

                                The philosophical pablum that reduces God to less than

                Human, rather than greater than human.

                                It is not grace to say that God willed it, or even

                                Allowed it to happen for some unbelievably fearsome reason.

                No! This is a far more powerful grace. Not costly, like Bonhoeffer foresaw,

                                But awful. A grace that inspires awe- even as we cower in

                                Dread, anger, or hopelessness.

                The image comes of Bobby Kennedy on a chilly April night on the streets of Indianapolis

                                Giving us the words as he tried to make sense of

                                Martin Luther King's assassination, but his own brother's as well.

                They were the ancient words of Aeschylus:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget

falls drop by drop upon the heart, until,

in our own despair,

against our will,

comes wisdom,

through the awful grace of God.

Written on Saturday, Dec. 15, the day after.

A Prayer After Newtown

A Prayer for Our Journey from Violence to Wholeness

Spirit of God, we long to mend the broken circle.
We long to heal the fractures in the world around us and within our own souls.
To learn from one another the ways of living fully alive.
To transform those parts of ourselves and our world
that block our making contact with our deepest reality
and with the deepest, richest and most sacred dimensions of all other beings.

Spirit of God, we long to see reality.
To contact our deepest yearning for a world pulsing with justice and truth.
To dream of a society where we all sit down at the Great Banquet,
where every person eats until they are full.

Spirit of God, we long to discover anew the courage deep within us.
To see and to listen. To discover our true selves.
To take steps to stop the cycle of violence
in our homes, in our work-places, in our neighborhoods, in our country, in our wide world.

-Link

Tomorrow, Wednesday, and Thursday: Some reflections on Newtown.