This is a quick letter "from my desk" to provide a bit of guidance and comfort - even in the midst of my own confusion. As we are inundated with thenews of what happened early Sunday morning at a gay bar in Orlando, our feelings are probably running the spectrum of human emotions. Pain, anger, fear, sadness, confusion, and outrage are all feelings I am experiencing. And if I am honest, I am also feeling a bit numb.
As humans, we need to be aware of these feelings, especially as they pertain to the suffering of others. At the very center of our Christian faith is the ability to suffer with other humans, which we experience as compassion. It was the same passion with which our God became human. God could feel the spectrum of human emotions. The incarnation, however, was more than God's selfish intent to see how it felt to be us. God also used those precious years to teach us how to be fully human. In the form of a person named Jesus, God called us friends and disciples. He showed us how to discipline our feelings in order to respond to one another with love. God showed us that love is a verb. It is an action. Like any action in our lives, it takes practice to become experts.
So when we combine our feelings (currently steeped in the recent tragedy) with action, what does that look like? How can you, a single human being in the midst of several billion people, do anything to stop what happened in Orlando? And most importantly, how can we use these feelings to help us practice being the essence of love in theworld?
To answer these questions for myself, I begin by sitting with God. I sit still and am present in God's love. I practice the art of being still. I practice quieting my mind. I am still not an expert. And I get frustrated. But I am determined to get better and better in this practice of contemplative prayer. From this practice, I have learned that words, like compassion, depict a deep understanding and respect for other people.
The next thing I do in the midst of tragedy and violence, is to allow my heart to break. I hurt. I cry. I weep for those families who lost loved ones. It is not a good feeling. It is raw. But as my heart breaks, it is also in a state of openness. Being open allows me to see others more clearly. In this tragedy alone, I have learned quite a bit about other peoples' suffering. At some point in my life, I learned from those who suffered because of their sexuality. I had no idea that people who loved one another were being treated as less than human.
When I heard about the violence that was being unleashed on this group of people, I remember a time in my past when I asked questions about what it meant to be LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bi-Sexual, Transgendered, Queer). At that time I got to know classmates who let me ask questions about their sexuality. I listened. I tried to understand. I learned what it is like to not be "me." Whereas I would normally "mind my own business," I practiced being friendly to people whose sexual orientation was different from mine. I learned that, like people of different skin colors, people with different sexual orientation experience love, sadness, joy - the entire gamut of emotions, just the same way I do. I was more like my new friends, than I was different.
Our Muslim neighbors are another group affected by this recent tragedy. At some point in my life, I was taught what it meant to be a Muslim. Our children are growing up in a completely different time, and they are hearing the word Islam in a completely different context than I did. I was taught that Muslims caused the pain and suffering of theJews in Israel.
Our children, however, are hearing something else. They hear the word, "terrorist," in the same breath as the word Islam (or something close to that word, like radical Islamist). My own journey caused me to try to help my Jewish friends. But when I entered a community of peacemakers, I became friends with people on both sides of theIsraeli/Palestine conflict. And I am so grateful that I did.
Peacemakers are trained to "sit in the fire" of violence caused by extreme fear of other people. In this new community, I learned that Islam, like Christianity, has a violent past. I learned that much of the thinking of current violent groups, such as ISIS, represent nothing close to the Islam that my peacemaker friends' practice. I know that violent acts by these extreme radical groups cause fear in our communities. Unfortunately, that fear is directed towards our peace-loving friends who practice Islam. I now reach out to our neighbors in times like this to reassure them that I am here, and that I still love them. In return they respond with thelove they learn in their own religious practice.
The common thread for me in the aftermath of violent acts of hatred, is the art of practicing love. Our faith as Christians is not going to magically make us love one another. Love is action. And like any action, it takes practice. Whether it's the act of walking, writing a grammatically correct letter (as you can see, I am still practicing), learning to talk, being a good friend - it all takes practice.
We need to practice, fail a little, and keep trying. As we are inundated with the spectrum of human emotions, be aware of their effect. Be present with God. Let your heart break. In this state of brokenness, try to practice which feelings create Christ-like activities. Which ones allow you to be compassionate? Which ones bring God's love into the world through your actions? Which one's allow you to emanate love?
It took only one human to perpetrate thehorror in Orlando. More than two thousand years ago, God sent just one incarnate person to spread a love we rely on and cherish today. When we each practice love within the smaller worlds we inhabit, we are helping the wider world replace hatred with love.
