What We Can Do Now

Again I saw all the oppressions that are practiced under the sun.

Look, the tears of the oppressed - with no one to comfort them!

On the side of their oppressors was power - with no one to comfort them.

And I thought of the dead, who have already died, more fortunate than the living, 

who are still alive; but better than both is the one who has not yet been, 

and has not yet seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun.

-Ecclesiastes 4: 1-3

Tree of Life Synagogue was not far from where I went to seminary.  That doesn't really make it any more tragic to me than the numerous other incidents of mass violence that have wracked our nation over the past few years, but I guess it does sort of deepen my own sense of dread.  It brings me to contemplate the limits of rationality when it comes to things like this.  As I read the papers this morning, listening to people trying to make sense of the whole thing from various angles, the voice that keeps coming back to me is one from the very Hebrew Scriptures that both Jewish folk and Christians hold as holy.

Granted, the "preacher" of Ecclesiastes, is far from typical, and certainly not the "go to" adviser if you need some cheering up, but he is a bracing bit of reality that I find I deeply need in moments like this.  Ecclesiastes is sort of like the Blues, it doesn't make you feel better, but it does make you feel less alone.  That's an important thing, because being alone is what allows you to become like that guy who shot those people in the synagogue and the one who mailed those pipe bombs last week.  Alone you feel like all "those people" are against you, and sooner or later, if you're alone long enough, everyone becomes "those people," even nice Jewish people in Squirrel Hill going to services on the Sabbath.  Of course it doesn't help if you insulate yourself with hate spewing internet sewers and only watch news that tells you all the things you should be afraid of... constantly... 24-7 with increasing foam around the mouth.  But to tell you the truth, people went crazy with hate and fear before any of that existed, all it really takes is alone-ness, or in more specific terms, the absence of community. When you are isolated, you tend to consume hate with more gusto.  When you do not regularly see other people, and relate to them, and make the effort of connecting with them, it is far too easy to de-humanize them into the enemy.

In that state, people tend to see those who practice community as particularly galling.  In addition to simple logistics of getting people when they're all together, at church, synagogue, rock concerts and schools, there is also the probably unconscious pathology of attacking the very thing that you need, but which you do not have.

As dangerous as it may be, community is the only cure for this disease.  Witness the grace, even in mourning, of the communities that suffer like this.  Mature religion will always give people a different way to respond to this problem.  Remember when the families of those people who Dylan Roof murdered forgave him?  Remember the Amish who forgave the Nickel Mines shooter?  Give Tree of Life time, they will also astound you with their grace.  It's hard to say how, but they will; pay attention to them when the shock and awe are done with.

Immature religion will clamp down and tense up and try to harness the fear and hurt of a moment like this to bring down the curtains of control.  Many people will tell you that armed guards and increased security are the solution, that is not only untrue, but an evil distortion of what communities of true faith hold as their deepest value.

Jesus, who was Jewish by the way, said it this way, "Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for may sake will find it."  That's not endorsing wanton self-destruction, it's all about control and whether you must be in control, or give that control over to God. If you trust, if you love, if you live in faith, you are truly alive.  If you live in fear, hate and anger you are more dead than you even realize.  That's what we have to tell ourselves, over and over again, in moments like this: love is dangerous, do it anyway; community is difficult, do it anyway; forgiveness can be heart-wrenching, do it anyway.  It's not because it's the obvious reaction, it's because it's the only reaction that will ever heal this broken world of ours.