On Friday, November 30, a young man murdered two people then killed himself. One of the victims was the young man’s father. The murder took place in the father’s classroom at Casper College in Casper, Wyoming, in front of the father’s students. A parent murdered by his own son. A group of young people having to witness the horror. I have an indirect connection to this horror because the husband of a friend of mine is one of the Vice Presidents of the college.
We are all connected.
Two days ago a young man in Newtown, Connecticut murdered his mother then drove to an elementary school where he murdered twenty children and six adults then killed himself. Another parent murdered by her own son, and this time six other adults and twenty small children died as well. This time small children both witnessed and fell victim to the horror. And again a connection. The granddaughter of a long-time friend attends the school where the massacre took place.
We are all connected.
At church this morning in our adult Sunday school class we heard a presentation about Palestinian children being terrorized and sometimes killed by Israeli soldiers in the Occupied Territories. Still another connection. The woman who did the presentation is a long-time acquaintance who has visited Palestine numerous times and been witness to the events she spoke about.
We are all connected.
Between Sunday school and worship I told a friend about the connection I have with the killings in Casper and in Newtown. I was in tears and he was nearly so.
We are all connected.
Later during the worship service I found I could not sing the songs. I could not chant the psalm. I could not say the creed. I could not pray the prayers. All I could manage was to make the sign of the cross and utter a whispered “amen” at the end of the prayers. During the Prayers of the People we heard the names of all the victims of Friday’s shooting read aloud. I am glad they were included.
We are all connected.
Two prayers came to my mind. The first was prayed by my priest, Lorraine Ljunggren, on Friday:
“Holy God, who desires life for all: We commend to your loving care this day those little ones and grown ones of your family --the human family -- who died today in the Connecticut school. We pray that the strength and power of your mysterious Holy Spirit will uphold and sustain all who mourn, particularly the parents and guardians, the families and friends of those who have died. Comfort all who mourn and grant us the courage to be makers of peace wherever our paths take us. All these things we pray for people of all faith and for those who claim none, and we pray in your Holy Name. Amen.”
We are all connected.
The second prayer was prayed by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat:
“God, let me cry on Your shoulder.
Rock me like a colicky baby.
Promise me You won't forget
each of Your perfect reflections
killed today. Promise me
You won't let me forget, either.
I'm hollow, stricken like a bell.
Make of my emptiness a channel
for Your boundless compassion.
Soothe the children who witnessed
things no child should see,
the teachers who tried to protect them
but couldn't, the parents
who are torn apart with grief,
who will never kiss their beloveds again.
Strengthen the hands and hearts
of Your servants tasked with caring
for those wounded in body and spirit.
Help us to find meaning
in the tiny lights we kindle tonight.
Help us to trust
that our reserves of hope
and healing are enough
to carry us through.
We are Your hands: put us to work.
Ignite in us the unquenchable yearning
to reshape our world
so that violence against children
never happens again, anywhere.
We are Your grieving heart.”
We are all connected
During her sermon this morning Lorraine talked about how she believes with all her heart that God is with and within us in the midst of even the most intense pain and suffering the times when there is no sense to be made of what is happening around us. And she reminded us why week after week we gather around the table to share bread and wine, the sacrament of that very real presence. I found myself drawn to her absolute faith.
We are all connected.
During the Eucharistic Prayer as the celebrant said the words of consecration I found my gaze fixed on the bread and wine there on the table. Two words came to me. They repeated themselves over and over in my mind, “Be there…Be there…Be there.” As we gathered around the table I looked around the circle of fellow parishioners, some friends, some acquaintances, and the words kept repeating themselves, “Be there…Be there…Be there.” When the bread was placed in my open palm, instead of immediately putting it into my mouth I gazed at it there in my hand for a few seconds. “Be there…Be there…Be there.”
We are all connected.
When I cannot sing, someone somewhere is singing for me. When I cannot pray, someone somewhere is praying my prayers for me. When I cannot believe, someone somewhere is believing for me.
We are all connected.
Be there…Be there…Be there...
And be here, too.
We are all connected.
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