It could have been 2:00 in the afternoon, and the theater could have been filled with folks who came out to watch a movie about the migration of butterflies. We all know that there is no rhyme or reason to where or when violence occurs. The best among us, missionaries, peacemakers, and public servants, who leave their homes and families for the love of others, have been murdered for their kindness and generous spirits. Open fire has taken place in sacred spaces of worship, in hospitals, and in Amish schoolhouses. Elders, mothers, babies, sons, teachers, healers have been murdered time and again on bright sunny days when life was good.
And we watch the news, and we shake our heads. We cry. We ache. We blame. We try to understand. We
fight the laws that enable the insanity to continue. We also lock our doors tighter and grow more and more fearful of those we do not know… the stranger, the one somehow different from our close-knit kin. And then, we go on. The shock wears off as the days go by. We shop. We travel. We go to school. We fuss about what to eat or what to wear, and we argue with those we love.
We are blessed with the gift of resiliency and the human spirit rises up
in the most overwhelming circumstances to embrace new days, new opportunities,
and challenges.
But might we question for a moment the human thirst for violence? Might we ask what pulls us into creating, supporting, purchasing, glamorizing, and even enjoying that which is violent? We spend our money, we celebrate life occasions, we give of our time to sit alongside of the boxing ring, the bull ring, the latest Hollywood multi-million dollar flick, and we are awed by the gunfire, the bloodshed, the gore, and the ultimate death of the villains who are deemed solely responsible for the need to respond with more violence. The good guy violence is revered when it silences the bad guy violence.
Somewhere, today, a mother is giving birth to a bad guy. She may or may not love him or her from the very beginning. They may or may not have money, food, safety. They may or may not be well educated. Perhaps they live under a thatched roof or near the sea. Maybe they have guns in their home that she will teach early on how to use. Or perhaps in the evening they sit together and quietly read the sacred texts. But no matter the
circumstance, this child was born holy and wholly. This child was born as gift. Until we as parents, as individuals, as societies, as nations, as the world find our way back to seeing the Divinity in one another and in ourselves…
until we can decide that killing perpetuates killing… and that violence begets violence, we will continue to bury the murdered and secure our lives with bullets rather than peace. We are making our choices. We are teaching each other to love and to hate. Surely there is something deeper and wiser we have yet to consider.
And we watch the news, and we shake our heads. We cry. We ache. We blame. We try to understand. We
fight the laws that enable the insanity to continue. We also lock our doors tighter and grow more and more fearful of those we do not know… the stranger, the one somehow different from our close-knit kin. And then, we go on. The shock wears off as the days go by. We shop. We travel. We go to school. We fuss about what to eat or what to wear, and we argue with those we love.
We are blessed with the gift of resiliency and the human spirit rises up
in the most overwhelming circumstances to embrace new days, new opportunities,
and challenges.
But might we question for a moment the human thirst for violence? Might we ask what pulls us into creating, supporting, purchasing, glamorizing, and even enjoying that which is violent? We spend our money, we celebrate life occasions, we give of our time to sit alongside of the boxing ring, the bull ring, the latest Hollywood multi-million dollar flick, and we are awed by the gunfire, the bloodshed, the gore, and the ultimate death of the villains who are deemed solely responsible for the need to respond with more violence. The good guy violence is revered when it silences the bad guy violence.
Somewhere, today, a mother is giving birth to a bad guy. She may or may not love him or her from the very beginning. They may or may not have money, food, safety. They may or may not be well educated. Perhaps they live under a thatched roof or near the sea. Maybe they have guns in their home that she will teach early on how to use. Or perhaps in the evening they sit together and quietly read the sacred texts. But no matter the
circumstance, this child was born holy and wholly. This child was born as gift. Until we as parents, as individuals, as societies, as nations, as the world find our way back to seeing the Divinity in one another and in ourselves…
until we can decide that killing perpetuates killing… and that violence begets violence, we will continue to bury the murdered and secure our lives with bullets rather than peace. We are making our choices. We are teaching each other to love and to hate. Surely there is something deeper and wiser we have yet to consider.
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