Let Speeches Fall Silent

Let speeches fall silent and platitudes cease

from hawkers of violence they brand as “peace.”

Let people who suffer find places to speak,

and holders of power give way to the weak.

 

Let teachers of hatred, suspicion, and fear,

and those who would kill for the views they hold dear,

be turned from their ways and disarmed of their wrath

to walk on a new, more compassionate path.

 

Forgive us the times we neglected to act;

forgive our excuses for courage we lacked.

God, teach us the wisdom that leads us to grace:

your image is found in our enemy’s face.

Adam M. L. Tice, June 15, 2016, ©2016 GIA Publications, Inc.

 In the chaos following  the Orlando shooting, which was the thousandth mass shooting in almost as many days in the United States, words flew from all corners. There were words of accusation and blame, of grief and anger; there were words expressing hope and words asserting hopelessness.

The appalling experience is not a new one, especially to those living in the USA.

Too easily we hear – and beat – the drums of war, as if they have ever been a way to peace, or justice. What is the creative act we can offer in the face of so much violence, even hatred, and the violence they beget?

What will it mean to embrace our neighbour?

The story of God in the world is one of creation; what will it mean for us to create relationship with those around us? I can’t resolve the crisis in Orlando, but I can care for the person the café who is weeping, or battling with a difficult child, or chatting to me as we wait for our coffee.

I can wait, and watch, for a friend whose life has been shattered, and listen to their grief and the pinch of hope like yeast they hold in their heart. I can encourage the young person who pushes the snake of trolleys in the supermarket car park, or attend to the person behind the counter who seems dismayed at her place in our community.

In a culture where denial and punishment are interpreted as leadership, Jesus speaks to the demon-possessed foreigner and asks him his name. Jesus heals the man who creates terror by his presence, and leaves him nameless, because the demons who define him are defeated.

Can we believe that our hope we find in Christ not only saves, but defeats the demons which define the world around us? Can we believe that grace and forgiveness, that justice informed by Christ’s love will indeed rename and recreate the world?