12 September 2021

Violence, Twenty Years Out...

It was a cool fall day, twenty years ago, as I watched the towers fall from a TV in my office at the Bishops’ Conference in Washington D.C. The smoke from the Pentagon rose beyond the glass of my office window, and fear began to show on the faces of my colleagues, a fear which would last for weeks to come.

Such moments of unexpected violence come often, even if on a smaller scale, in the life of a parish priest.  The fire that devastates the lives of three families down the street, the suicide of a teenager from the youth group, the domestic abuse that lands the lector from the ten o‘clock Mass in court and in the paper...all are unexpected and all have the same destabilizing effect on our lives.


As the hours following such traumatic events pass, everyone begins to think the same thing: There but for the grace of God go I.  And it’s true. 


I recall a spate of teenage suicides when I was pastor in Spencer.  First one, then two, then three kids took their own lives, most frequently with a shotgun.  Each parent had the same thought: There but for the grace of God go I.


And what could I, as the Pastor of Spencer, offer to their paralyzing fear? Certainly not lies.  It will be alright.  It probably won’t be. 

What can a Pastor do at times of the inevitable tragedy and violence that marks our lives, or even on their anniversary?  He can tell the truth. The truth that there is sometimes a real and present danger, but that it is not always present. 


The truth is that none of us are immune.  From violence, or from cancer, or from accidental death.  


But the point of life is not staying alive and happy and healthy.  The point of life is doing the will of God.


And that often involves the Cross, a Cross which gives meaning even to senseless and random violence.  God writes straight with crooked lines.  Even from darkness and pain and senseless suffering he can bring forth his light, and his truth, and true hope.


For Christ walks into the dark upper rooms of our lives and says “Be not afraid.”  Not because there is no such thing as suffering and death (he shows us his wounds and invites us to touch them).  He tells us not to be afraid because he is ever present and in our suffering we are drawn closer to his Cross, the Cross by which he has defeated Death and Darkness and Sin.  We have nothing to fear, ever again, as he whispers in our hearts: “Peace be with you!”


That’s why the impetuous Prince of the Apostles, responds to the Lord with four simple words today: You are the Christ.


You are one who the world has been waiting for. You are the way we were made to live. You are the truth, and the life.  You are our Savior and the purpose of our being.   


You are the Christ! The one who seeks out lost sheep and carries them home, who stretches out his arms on a cross and prays for those who nailed him up there. The one who comes to lead us home from this valley of tears.


Your are the Christ, and with you at our side, we don’t have to be afraid, ever again.

“The sense of the joy in anything is the sense of Christ.”   ( Caryll Houselander, The Reed of God ) Is there anything sadder than a miser...