I had a whole different sermon planned out; Jesus encouraging His disciples during the Ascension farewell discourse and promising them their Advocate, the Holy Spirit to continue to guide them. Maybe I would go on about it in a vague way. But my God, do we need an Advocate NOW in a concrete way.
19 children, murdered. 2 teachers, murdered. 17 more wounded.
These were 4th grade children. CHILDREN between 8 and 10 years old. With families and friends and toys and baseball bats and Xboxes and Barbie dolls and favorite colors and favorite games and hopes and dreams. Terrified, screaming, snuffed out, one by one, with their heroic teachers doing everything they could to get themselves between the bullets and their kids.
Where, God, is our Advocate, we rightfully wonder in these situations??? Our Church celebrates her Pentecostal Birthday in only a week’s time, but the Holy Spirit seems so far away doesn’t She? It is so tempting to bathe in the relative safety of a progressive state like New York, to the point of numbness. Texas is so far away. Hell, even Buffalo – the PREVIOUS week’s mass shooting – is on the other side of the state. It can happen anywhere, though can’t it? How many elementary schools, middle schools, high schools, colleges and churches are here on Long Island? Hundreds upon hundreds.
It can happen anywhere – back in 1993, my father was in the same car with Colin Ferguson, the Long Island Railroad gunman. It was December 7th 1993, my mom’s 52nd birthday. He caught the 5:33 out of Penn Station as usual. Dad got off at the New Hyde Park Station, as usual. And the shooting began when as the train pulled out of the station. Dad was late coming home because he stopped by the florist to pick up roses for mom. By the time he arrived home 20 minutes late, our household was in a frenzy; Mom already saw what was happening on the news and knew it had happened on Dad’s regular train. We were all imagining the horrific worst… and then dad walked in the door, roses in hand, wondering what all the fuss was about. When he saw the news; he realized he had been sitting only a few seats from Colin Ferguson. God smiled on dad that day.
But not on others. Six were killed and nineteen were wounded on that train.
WHY does this happen? Why this school and not that one? Why THESE kids and not those? Why those other commuters and not my Dad? It’s senseless, isn’t it? Where is God???
Years ago I asked my old spiritual director, Father Jim, a crusty ancient Irish priest, about the location of God during these horrible times such as these. At that time and in that spiritual counseling session specifically, I was wrestling with being a victim of serial childhood assault – I don’t remember how it came up. I remember being in session with Fr. Jim and crying, angrily asking him, “Where the hell was GOD when I was being assaulted???” Jim breathed in deep and said “He was being assaulted with you, Tom. God is with us. ALWAYS Emmanuel. Our Passion our trials our crosses are HIS. Fully God and FULLY HUMAN. God goes through everything with us. ALL OF IT.” It sounded horrific when he said that to me 15 years ago. And I don’t much like to think about it now, in all honestly.
But….let’s together think on it a moment.
Emmanuel. God with us.
We are the hands and feet and head and heart of the Living God. The Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit dwells right here in this gathering, right here in each one of us and in all of us together. There is Hope to be found in that knowledge, even if our anger and sadness and fear cloud that knowledge for a while.
By all means, LET’S BE ANGRY.
We’ve all heard of righteous anger –the senseless murder of 2 classrooms worth of 4th grade children and their teachers cry out for that anger.
AND we all must grieve – this was a horrific and preventable act.
And we are human beings; we are allowed to be afraid. This past week I was speaking with a man I have been friends with since childhood – we spent the tail end of grammar school and all of high school together; we were the weird bullied kids. First ones on our block to get our ears pierced, listen to heavy metal and punk rock music and play in a band together. He was best man at my wedding in 1996, and we have remained close since, though we see each other far too seldom. He and his wife adopted a little girl 6 years ago; she is truly a model in the making, an old time beauty with the heart of an angel. Being a father has made my friend an even better man than he was before; I have never seen parents more in love with their child. After the shooting I spoke to him and his wife this week to check in on them – even here in NY they are terrified to send their girl to school. What is it’s the last kiss? The last goodbye? His wife posted that she said cheerfully the day after the shooting that “I think today is gonna be a great day, Mommy!”, and felt a sinking feeling I think is reserved for parents panicking about the safety of their kids. I’d feel the same if I had to send my boys to school under similar circumstances when they were younger. My friends are atheists – and they gladly accepted my prayers for their daughter and their family.
So we can be angry and sad and fearful. But Pentecost is coming. And so is the Holy Spirit.
Let us turn our anger into Justice – we need to remember to stay or get involved in the civil process, contact our elected representatives, write “letters to the editor” or elsewhere, demonstrate as we are able, and open our mouths to decry the injustice for all to hear. We need to ask hard questions like; what roles did the gun debate, mental illness, high school bullying, and systematic racism play in placing those automatic weapons into the hands of Salvador Ramos and a tactical vest around his body last Tuesday morning?
Let us turn our grief into consolation – notice those around you who may have been affected in a profound way by this and similar events. Be the presence of Love to them, however they need you to be. Call or email or text or visit them. Listen to them. Hold them. Cry with them. Sometimes simple presence is all that’s required to let light in. Even a little light. Even if it’s just for a moment. And above all, notice when YOU’RE being affected. Reach out to your beloveds. Practice self-care and self-healing. Remember that we’re never alone.
Above all - Let us turn our fear into Hope. It is easy to despair when we look at the state of our communities, big and small, particularly when seemingly unbearable tragedies like this occur. Never forget we are an Easter People, we are a community of Hope. Hope is our hallmark. As Bishop Ken wrote in his address to this tragedy, we as Christians need to be a sign of the healing loving presence of the Divine in our prayers and actions toward all people.
So let us be a sign of Hope. Live Emmanuel, God with us. WE ARE THE ADVOCATE. We are the Spirit’s hands and feet and head and heart. As the Living Breathing Body of Christ, let us not only merely offer our thoughts and prayers; the term has become a punchline, almost a verbal tic at this point from politicians who see the horror but are loathe to change it. Let us bring form and shape and LIFE to those prayers by being the Spirit of Love our world is so very thirsty for. Let us BE the prayer. Let us BE the change we wish to see in the world.
Our Lord Jesus has ascended and is now “working from home”. Let us BE the Spirit that now dwells within us all.
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